#also dear fucking god someone make this women wear a fucking suit

[butmakeitgayblog]

[kimberlyannharts]

LAST TIME ON RANGER ACADEMY:

Dark Specter has begun to infect Ranger Academy, and Sage and Tula tapped into the age-old Red/Green shipping to save the day! Unfortunately Ranger Academy is full of fucking narcs and expelled Tula for being cool and wanting justice for her dead sister or whatever. In general the Headmaster might be cool with children dying? Yeah, Sage, I think we gotta take your polycule and go.

It's RANGER ACADEMY #9!

= "what are you?" "an idiot sandwich" but like, in a gay best friends way

= they are so dear to me

= "his friend" girl I think your dad is gay

= I know the whole plot with the Green campus and the question of "hey, is being Green bad?" is a big source of contention in the fandom, and I've brought up similar criticisms, but the whole thing kind of makes more sense if you look at it outside of the context of the PR universe and more in terms of it being some kind of LGBTQA+ allegory. Like it was kind of hinted at before, and I don't know if it's still 100% intentional considering this book is full of legit LGBTQA representation that isn't treated like a big deal in-universe, but panels like this feel especially blatant with that kind of message

= a lot of children swearing in this issue

= this is sooooooooo cute but also my old post about how her Ranger team is going to end up being her friends with her dad filling the Red spot is going to come true isn't it

= so some more answers! The infected friend was Zilan. We don't have a legit design for him yet (he's either covered up or just shown with no detail) but he IS confirmed to have hair, so probably not an Eltarian despite the Z-name. Thank god, I was getting Eltarian War flashbacks

= the last time someone I cared about tried to handle things alone, he broke the multiverse with an Egg and caused three women to get wiped from existence and went on to wear combat boots over his Ranger boots. wait, wrong comic

= you know I don't mind stuff like "oh my Grid" and "thank the Grid" because it's pretty cute and makes sense in-universe the same way that stuff like "StarClan help me" and "trust the Force" does but idk. It always just throws me because of how secular the school is for them to suddenly use phrasing that implies religious framing. Mathis Has Become Catholic

= If you wonder why I keep complaining about the overuse of romance in Darkest Hour, stuff like this is why. We don't know if Mathis and Tula is romantic - but what's important is that you can really feel how powerful their bond is that they could be believably romantic if the comic chooses to go that route. Darkest Hour seemed to rely on just the fact that they have a romance to do the heavy lifting for actually proving how close they are

= heyyyy the debut of Theo and Maev's Ranger forms (yeah the Ranger Academy suits are just recolors, but shush, it's still cool) and Ranger weapons! Maev's pretty much got Power Daggers like MMPR Yellow but Theo has a spear that shoots fire, so a W for Black Rangers here

= Lindy if you're coming on this adventure we are going to get you a Ranger suit by god

= HOT DAD NOOOOOOOO

[cjsinkythoughts]

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink. 

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you.  Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing. 

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

[bloodxbat]

(Part 1) Triple W Mafia George x Fem! Y/N series

Warnings: Swearing! that’s it really (unless I've missed something then please let me know)

Word Count: 2,174

Summary:  George Weasley is a renowned Mafia boss who took over from his Father Arthur once he retired, to carry on the Triple W mafia legacy. The only mafia known to be able to keep the Death Eaters (their rival mafia) at bay. However there is one item that they stole from the Triple W’s which George is determined to get back...his mothers necklace, the family heirloom. Y/N Greyback has been forced to comply with the Death Eaters wishes as her family are high up members. What happens when George and Y/N meet? And what happens when they fall in love?

Series Masterlist 

The lights were dim in the what looked like to be an old bar room, the red hue coming from the red lamp shades hitting the walls. Smoke from cigars fogging up the top half of the room barely keeping the floor below visible. At each table there were groups of men, all sitting in perfectly tailored suits, sipping on their glasses of whiskey, laughing and having a good time. At the back of the room however, sat one man, alone. His elbow propped up on the arm of his chair, his finger brushing over his top lip as if he were deep in thought. His other hand held the same glass as every other man in the bar, lazily not caring if it were to fall and smash everywhere.

The man, George Weasley, a tall ginger man who’s eyes were the dark but kind shade of brown. Although seemingly intimidating, George had a kind heart, if he seen someone being attacked or robbed in the street, everyone would end up feeling bad for the attacker by the time George was finished with him. He had no time for the scum who go out of their way to make someone else’s life a living hell in order for them to feel a small, temporary taste for a God complex.

George had only recently taken over the title of the Triple W Mafia Boss, when his father Arthur had decided it was his time to retire and pass over the family ‘business’ to one of his sons. George was one of 6 sons and one daughter within the Weasley family. His identical twin brother Fred was technically supposed to become the next Mafia boss, as he was the older twin. But, he had decided that his brother George was more fit to the job than he was. So, George gratefully took over the role and appointed Fred and his younger brother Ron, to be his sort of ‘Body Guards’ although, of course George was far from needing any form of help when it came to beating or killing a criminal, it was still always good to have a little back up sometimes.

“Hey Georgie, what’s the plan then? What we gonna do about these damn Death Eaters?”

George sat, not moving, deep in thought. ‘What was he going to do about those Death Eaters?’ He has no where to start, the bastards are constantly on the run. He was determined to find their whereabouts however, as they had stolen something very precious to him, his mother’s necklace. The Weasley family heirloom.

-

In a room that was very clearly abandoned and covered in moss and mould, sat groups of men and some women in black cloaks with peculiar pointed hoods. These people, in contrast to that of which the Triple W members, appeared extremely intimidating. The members of Triple W were intimidating,  but these were the sort of people no one would want to encounter in the streets, day or night. There was no smoke from cigars in this small dingy room, there was however and eye watering stench, that was so strong some of the Death Eaters swore they seen a slight foggy green haze floating around the room.

All cloaked members were sitting in a circle all surrounding their leader Tom Riddle, or as he likes to call himself ‘Voldemort’. A tall man (not as tall as George) with black, short curly hair. He wasn’t wearing a cloak like his ‘followers’ but was wearing something that looked more like a bath robe, it was all black of course to fit in with the rest. All were listening in carefully to what he was saying, all apart form Y/N Greyback, daughter of Fenrir Greyback, a man who is considered very high up in the Death Eater mafia. She was sat in the corner, wearing a contrasting blood red dress that hugged all of her curves perfectly. Her Y/H/C hair was curled at the ends in neat ringlets, and she had some makeup on but not too much so she looked ‘dolled up’.

“We all know that the Triple W are cowering out in some fancy old bar, trouble is we don’t know where, I’ve had a few out scouting round the area, unfortunately they have all been caught” Riddle speaks out gesturing and engaging with his followers.

“What do you suggest we do then sir?” Said Fenrir who was sitting right next to where Riddle was parading around the room.

“I say we send out our most valuable member, of course, real them in, make them vulnerable” he smirked

“You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, but I do, your daughter shall make excellent bate my dear friend, for she wears what Weasley most desires” Riddle finishes

Y/N too busy sat in the corner reading an old book, didn’t even notice that every Death Eater members eyes were on her, all smiling to themselves.

This may actually work, if we send out Y/N who is wearing that incredibly expensive looking, diamond necklace, it may just lure the idiot ginger straight to us” Fenrir laughed.

So their plan was set, send Y/N as bait and hopefully George would follow.

-     George still hadn’t moved from the position he was sat in, he hadn’t taken a single sip of his drink, his eyes focussed and barely ever blinking. He was seemingly ignoring every person who tried to get a word out of him for some sort of plan to take down their Rival mafia. Sure he had killed a lot of spies they had sent out, but he was getting absolutely no leads on where exactly they were coming from, Riddle was smarter than he thought. It seemed he had Death Eaters coming from all over the country in all different directions and disguises. George had to find some way in order to track down where exactly they were based.

The sounds of other members arguing, specifically Fred and Ron who were standing right next to where George was sat, started to sound like a horrible ringing noise, it was driving him insane, how could he concentrate when these buffoon’s were yelling nonsense at each other.

“WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP” He yelled now getting up from his seat and walking to the middle of the smoky room.

“I can’t fucking think when you’re all fighting and arguing with each other on what we’re going to do. I am very aware that those bastards are close to finding us, alright? They’ve gained more members in the past few months than I can count on my two hands. Problem is, they’re coming from all over the country, there is no set direction from where they’re all coming from, meaning that they aren’t coming from their base. This brings us to our next problem, what we’re going to do about it. The only thing I can suggest right now, which I believe may actually be our only two options, is either we leave and find a new base OR we send out multiple people all round the general area of here just outside the boarders of this town where the forests are. Each mile will have two of our members, armed and ready to capture and interrogate anyone that comes from outside the town. This includes anyone who seems innocent to the eye I.e. a mother and child as we all know by now there are families who have been a part of the Death Eaters for years, long enough for them to welcome their children. If you see a mother and child however, you of course don’t attack them straight away, you take them for questioning and more importantly, you look for that damn skull snake monstrosity that they all have tattooed on their left forearm.”

George stands looking between each of his guys trying to gauge what they were thinking by their faces.

“So what’s it to be? Hands up if you think we should move”

No one put their hands up and George smiled knowing that everyone in Triple W are too loyal to the town of Diagon to even consider leaving.

“Good choice boys, now” he rubs his hands together “who’s volunteering to be part of the watch team?”

- Y/N couldn’t believe her ears when she heard the plan to trick Triple W into following her back to the Death Eaters. She also had no idea that the beautiful silver diamond necklace that hung lazily round her neck was the stolen Weasley heirloom.

The actions of her family disgusted her, she knew that what they stood for and what they were doing was wrong, but putting her in harms way all over a stupid rivalry, AND tricking her into thinking that the necklace she had was a gift. She felt so stupid for believing them, Y/N had no options but to accept that she was going to have to go along with their horrendous plan and bait George and other members of Triple W into following her back into her family and Riddle’s evil grasp.

“Perfect” Riddle smiled grimly when Y/N accepted

“But of course, we can’t just lure them in, in one mere night, no, you have to spread this out over the course of a few days. Have him become intrigued by you, follow you a little while. You’ll be staying in a place called the Leaky Cauldron, don’t let him see you in there, it’ll blow your cover. Make sure he only sees you walking through the streets. Got it?”

Y/N tentatively nodded her head

“Good, and then, when the time is right, you’ll lead him straight here. We’ll be in communication with you, don’t let me down”

Y/N shakily made her way to Diagon, bags packed and the necklace still hanging round her neck. She had since changed into a black, silk dress, helping the bright silver of the necklace stand out against the dark colour of her clothes, further, of course to draw George Weasley’s attention.

Once she had settled into her room at the Leaky Cauldron, she was given specific instruction to make sure she wondered round the street at night, as that is most likely when Triple W members will come out from wherever they were hiding.

Y/N took a step out into the cold crisp night air, her heels click clacking off the stone pavements. She couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the town, cobblestone roads winding all through it, the windows on each building slightly askew but somehow didn’t seem out of place. It was as if she were walking through an old victorian town.

Snapping her thoughts back to the task at hand, she pulled her black shawl over her shoulders more and continued to wander aimlessly round, trying to find some form of clue as to were Triple W were hiding.

- George was more than satisfied with the outcome of the meeting they had today. He had 40 people on a list to keep watch each mile surrounding Diagon, meaning that all 20 miles would be covered. They all had their instructions ingrained into their heads and were ready to get to work the next day. Fred and Ron as usual would stay within Diagon with George, communicating to those who were out surrounding the area getting updates and passing round information. George had also decided to send a few extra spies out, including his younger sister Ginny to be on the look out for any Death Eater members who may still be lurking round the town.

George, Fred and Ron made their way out of the old bar room, and onto the streets. George made sure that they each had means of contacting each other. Fred whom George would normally live with, agreed that they each should have their own flats or place to stay in order to cover more of Diagon, and therefore be more accessible to those out in the forest. With their last goodbyes and a few phone calls to book places to stay, the three brothers separated all going in opposite directions.

George headed down the street, his hands becoming slightly red from the cold, and he could see his breath in the air. The dim orange streetlights barely lighting up the path as he walked past the old crooked houses and shops.

Just a George turned the corner he bumped into someone, a woman, dressed in a black dress and shawl.

“Oh I’m so sorry miss, I wasn’t looking where I was going properly, these damn street lights barely light up 2 feet in front of you. Are you alright” George asked looking into her eyes with worry

“I’m perfectly fine, sir, thank you” she smiled back and walked away

But George followed her with his eyes, more specifically he followed her neck, because what was hanging from it made him do a double take. He knew those diamonds from anywhere, they way they glistened brightly in every light. Was that, his mother’s stolen necklace?

Taglist: @amourtentiaa​ @love-peachh​ @pens-and-roses​ @rosietoesy​ @comfortwriting​ @famdomhideout​ @dracofknmalfoy​ @pandaxnienke​ @georgeweasleysbabe​ @le-weasley-simp​ (MESSAGE/ASK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED)

[adaodinson]

Starsco

I don’t know where this came from, it’s quite weird, but I liked it, I hope you do too.

Oh and a small side note, the 5 songs that I mention, I really do recommend you to hear them if you haven’t.

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Feedback is appreciated :)

Summary: You start working for Bucky. An important event comes but someone messes up and you have to do something about it.

Warnings: Swearing.

Relationship: Company director!Bucky x female!reader

You´re heart dropped at the sound of your phone announcing that you had received an email. You had been like this the whole day waiting for that damned answer on the job you had applied for. You were insanely nervous. Even though you were only starting in the industry, the Starsco company was a pretty good place to begin at.

You had always been good with words, you were great at convincing people of selling things, of buying things, of doing things, etc. You were a natural (which was quite ironic sine you sere socially shy and awkward) and you knew it. You had wanted to make a living out of getting and selling strange things. Sure, it sounded weird, but, isn´t weird always interesting?

It had all started a month ago, when you told your aunt you needed her help. You had found a vacancy in a company called Starsco that basically, took care of finding the weirdest things other companies might need that couldn´t easily be found or bought in big amounts. The job was everything you wanted. The company was run by James Barnes, a successful businessman that was known for being a quite unique boss, and an amazing and talented person. You had worked with your aunt for the past few years, but when you told her about the job she immediately used her contacts to get you an interview, and before you knew it, that had passed and all you could do now was wait.

And this was it, this was the moment you would know if you were gonna start working for such a company and such a person in the business you had wanted for so many years. You opened your phone without looking at the content of the email, you then slowly lowered your fingers as you read line by line until you got there.

-YES- you yelled and jumped around like a maniac through your apartment. You got it, you were starting in three days, on Monday. WOOOHOOOOO hell yeah.

After telling your aunt about the news the weekend flew by, and in the blink of an eye you were walking through the crowded streets of New York headed to the building you had only seen once for your interview. You weren´t one to lie to yourself, you were fucking terrified. You had met Nat and Clint at your interview, they were important workers at the company, and seemed quite serious at first, focusing on the “at first”. You got along with them just fine. Even though you had all been insanely professional during the interview, when it finished, they let out a bit of themselves as regular people, and you got to like them since then. You hadn´t met your boss, though, and that was your main concern.

You pushed through the huge main doors and led your feet through the crowded and busy main entrance. You spotted Nat as soon as you got to the first floor, and she headed straight to you right away. She was wearing a beautiful black suit with a white blouse underneath, and you were wearing a dark blue one with a gray blouse under it. She smiled widely at you, and you returned her the smile.

-Hey, how are you? Are you nervous?- She asked happily, with a hint of playfulness in her tone.

-Hey, I´m good thanks, and yes of course I´m nervous. How are you?- You replied honestly.

-I´m good, and happy to see you here- You smiled at that even more.

She gave you a tour of the places in the building you didn´t know, and then led you to your desk that was placed in a huge room with beige walls. It was pretty big and seemed quite comfortable. It had a computer and office supplies.

On the other side of the room there was a big window with two desks in front of it. On them there were two people already standing up to say hi to you.

-Hey, I´m Wanda and this is Thor- Wanda was gorgeous, just like Nat. She had bright orange hair and was wearing a dark red blouse with a lighter red pencil skirt. Thor was a huge (insanely handsome) guy, with blonde hair and a big smile. He was wearing a black suit with a red tie.

-Hi, I´m Y/N, I guess I´ll be working with you now- You said happily and shook both of their hands. They seemed nice, like, really nice. Nat had told you about them, or specifically, she told you about everyone in the company that she got along with and that she knew you would too.

Nat left after saying goodbye, and Wanda and Thor explained more of what you would be doing; you would basically take care of making meetings and gatherings possible by having every person that was needed present, and you needed to get whatever your boss asked you to get, as weird or difficult as it sounded. That was, of course, hard as hell, because it meant dealing with weird ass people, but as always, that was your area of expertise. This was what you signed up for, and you were really good with words, that was your “ability”, and that´s why you had been hired. You were excited, it sounded really interesting.

Wanda told you Mr. Barnes was at a meeting, but he had made himself a little space to meet you, and that would happen in exactly an hour. You started settling in your desk, glancing up at the clock that hung in front of the door to your left (door that led to Mr. Barnes´ office).

Before you knew, the door to the left had been open, letting a crowd of men and women out, and finally showing your boss. Jesus fucking Christ. You knew about his reputation of being one of a kind, but damn, he was the most freaking beautiful man you had EVER seen, even more than Thor. Fortunately, you knew how to keep your composure around attractive people, you had since your interview with Nat.

-Ms.Y/N, hello, I´m James Barnes- he said with a smile that adorned those perfect deep blue eyes of his. And dear God, didn´t your name sound beautiful coming from his mouth. You took the hand he had just offered you.

-Hello Mr.Barnes, thank you for giving me this opportunity- You said while shaking his strong hand that happened to be huge compared to yours.

-Oh no, I´m thanking you, you have an amazing resume, it´s pretty clear you know your way through words- Damn it, this man is so charming, this is ridiculous.

-Well, if I have a skill I´ll use it- You answered, realizing either of you had let go of the handshake. You let go of his hand slowly, trying to not make him uncomfortable, and it worked. He just retreated his hand.

-Mmhh I like you already, doll- you couldn’t help the smile and small giggle that came out of you at his words. And well, the nickname, God the nickname. At first you thought that´s how he referred to all women, but you would soon learn he called everyone by their last names, except for Wanda and Nat (he referred to them by their first names), and you, you were “doll”- I´m sure Wanda and Thor already told you were to start-.

-They did indeed- You answered.

-Okay, then I´ll head back to my office, I´ll use the communicator if I need you, okay?-

-Okay- You smiled widely and watched him walk back to his office and close the door behind him. You headed to your desk, to start with your work, not noticing the confused looks Thor and Wanda were exchanging after the curious interaction they had just witnessed. But they weren´t gonna mention it until they were sure it had been what they thought.

Your job was just as hard and challenging as you had expected, but you loved it. You got to talk to the strangest people ever and go to the weirdest places with a bunch of security people just to protect you. You sure as hell wouldn´t have done any of that at another job.

Three months had passed, and you already loved everyone that worked with you. You were becoming close with almost everybody: Nat, Clint, Wanda, Thor, Pietro, Bruce, Tony, Sam, etc. Nat, Wanda and Sam were your closest friends so far. You also got along amazingly with your boss. You two already even had inside jokes, always spoke to each other with a playful tone and were quite touchy. The thing was either of you seemed to notice. You two were always brushing shoulders when walking together, he played with your hands when you were casually talking (you were already used to the feeling of his metal arm, and you seemed to be the only one he trusted to touch it and be touched by it), and both of you laughed like crazy when you were together, even if you were supposed to be professional (except, of course, when you were in front of people from outside the company, but that seemed to be the only time you didn´t look like a couple of idiots).

He called you doll and occasionally by your first name, and of course you called him Mr. Barnes: But one time you had seen him at a company event he casually asked you to call him Bucky, but it just felt wrong, so you kept the professional name.

You were working on getting 384 kilos of carbon (no, you had no idea why and you weren´t sure you wanted to know) when your boss appeared and called Wanda, Thor and you into his office. You shared looks since it was weird for him to ask all three of you in at the same time.

-What can we do for you boss?- You asked with the playful tone you and Bucky (yes, in your mind you did call him Bucky) often used when you talked. He smiled widely, but a hint of tiredness adorned his face.

-Well, I need the three of you working on an event that we are having next week. I need you to make sure everyone that is needed there will attend. This is a really important meeting, and it´s not any type of event, this could be a game-changer for the company, it has to be perfect. Someone really important is attending so I need you there to make sure everything that he wants he gets. It´s Ronald Lazo and I trust you to get what he asks for. He is known for only attending meetings that have a singer singing five specific songs, I´ll give you Thor the details and I need you to get that. He only drinks some weird kind of rum that I need you Wanda to get, and Y/N, I need you at the event to check that everything is working and that he´s getting what he needs. You guys can postpone what you´re currently working on except for the Cryt check and get these things done. Thor and Wanda, thank you, you guys are excused, Y/N I need you to stay-.

All three of you nodded and your workmates left the office. Once they closed the door, Bucky stood up from his desk and walked toward you.

-Listen, I only trust you in case something has to be done at the last minute because you have proven to be capable of doing so at emergencies, so I need you to finish the last thing I requested and then make sure this place- he said handing you a paper- will be available on Tuesday next week. That´s all I need you to do these few days because you´ll be at the event on Tuesday since 5pm to check and supervise that everything works-.

You didn´t even notice when he got closer to you, but you could smell his scent (a strange but nice mixture of metal, wood and cologne) as he spoke.

-And another essential thing I need to ask. On that day I need you to stay away from anyone that is not from the company. Stay really close to me, I´ll let you know what the guy wants, what I need you to get, but please stay away from him. I´m asking you this as hopefully your friend, not as your boss. This mas is known for easily losing his shit. I know you can take excellent care of yourself, but this guy is a whole different story. Please stay safe-.

-We are friends- you answered, truthfully- and I will stay close to you, I´ll stay safe. And of course I´ll do my work as you ask, everything that is needed- You said with a reassuring tone, as he did seem worried. Your heart flipped at the thought of him considering you his friend and caring this much for you.

-Perfect- He said as he walked back to his desk, as his worried tone disappeared, almost as if he had reset. You just nodded and waited for him to nod back. When he did, you took that as your sign to go out, back to your desk and get to work.

Tuesday came by in a flash. You woke up with a knot in your stomach, but you were kind of excited. It was 4pm, so you had to rush to get ready.

Bucky had told you to dress fancy but simple, so you went for a black dress that had a lose skirt that reached your knees and a beautiful top with sleeves that showed your shoulders but covered part of your upper arms. You choose a pair of black ankle boots that were easy to walk with, but that fitted the dress perfectly. You took one final look on the mirror and since you liked how you looked, you went to your bathroom to put your make up on. After you were happy with it you took your keys and purse and headed towards the place.

After parking your car you headed to the garden (the event would be at one), and you thanked your past self again for your choice of shoes. You walked toward the table where the people you knew were. You said hi to Sam, Clint, Bruce and Nat (the ones that were attending) and went to look for your boss to let him know you had arrived.

You just couldn´t get used to how handsome he was, it was impossible. He was wearing an all-black suit with a turtleneck and you felt your knees literally shake as you walked. He turned to you in response to the person that he was talking to looking stunned by you. I mean, I know I look good but that was weird. That was your thought until your boss looked at you. His eyes widened and he stood completely still. The only part of him that was moving were his eyes, as they seemed to be exploring you. You were fucking dying. He was checking you out and you were about to faint, so you decided to smooth the tension with a joke before you passed out at how he was looking at you.

-See something you like, boss?- You asked quietly enough for him to be the only one to listen. He bit his lip. Oh you´re not fucking helping. And he giggled.

-Wow, you do look amazing, doll- he stated. You felt yourself blushing like hell, but come on, he had to be more embarrassed than you at this point.

-Thank you, you look quite handsome yourself- That seemed to take him by surprise, but he then smiled and thanked you as well. He introduced you to the people around and informed you Mr. Lazo hadn´t arrived, but that he was counting on the singer that had been requested to have arrived already since it was the first part of the event, so he asked you to call Thor for him to tell you who and where she was.

As you started walking away, still laughing to yourself at what had just happened, you heard your phone ringing. It was Thor. How convenient.

-Hey Thor, how ar-

-Y/N, shit, I need your help- He said with a terrified tone. You had never heard him swear so you knew he had either screwed up, or he had been fucking kidnapped.

-My God, what happened?-

-The singer that I hired just cancelled, she found out more about Mr. Lazo and said she´s not coming-

-WHAT?- Okay, that came out way louder than what you wanted.

-Where are we gonna get a singer that knows the specific songs at the last minute?!- You asked, lowering your tone.

-I don´t know, please help me- He was truly desperate, so you agreed to help him.

He told you the songs were: Cry to me by Seal, Missing you by John Waite, I hope I don´t fall in love with you by Tom Waits, December 1963 by Franki Valli and The Four Seasons and Do you really want to hurt me by Culture Club. Okay maybe the guy was weird for always requesting to hear the same five songs at any event he went to, but he surely had a good taste in music, you knew all of them by heart. Although it was ridiculous that he wanted a female singer to sing all male songs.

After agreeing with Thor, you hung up, but the second you turned around, you saw your worst nightmare: Mr. Lazo had arrived, and he was heading to a freaking pale James Barnes that was mouthing you the question “where the hell is she”.

You were dead, Thor was dead, everyone was dead.

Lazo sat down at his place, and shortly everyone imitated him. He was seating next to Bucky that looked like he was about to faint. You had NEVER seen him like that, like ever, before tonight you couldn´t even imagine him getting so nervous.

You knew the songs would lighten up the mode, and that show working out would probably give Bucky the confidence he needed to be himself again, so you sighed, feeling a huge knot on your throat and texted Thor that it had been taken care of.

You never would have done this unless this exact thing was happening: everyone was seated, looking at the empty stage with nervous musicians and your dying boss. It had been at least two years since your last singing class, and even though you knew you were good, you hadn´t sang in front of an audience since you were 18. Lazo was clearly getting impatient, so you rushed to the stage, nodded at a confused Bucky, smiled at the musicians and died internally.

They understood and started playing the first song, and the second the words started getting out of your mouth, you remembered how much you adored singing. No one in the office knew you could sing, so they were all stunned at how beautiful your voice was. But there were two particular people who´s reaction you loved: Nat, that had the proudest face you had ever seen in anybody (she knew about what had happened with Thor), and Bucky´s. His face was lit up in a way that made his eyes and smile shine like diamonds. He seemed lost in you, and you were doing this for him, you sure as hell would make sure he knew that later.

Weeeell, nothing can be sadder than a glass of wine alone.

Loneliness, loneliness is such a waste of time.

Oh yeah, you don´t, you don´t ever have to walk alone, you see.

Come on and take my hand, and baby won´t you walk with me, oh yeah.

Just like that, the first song ended and the crowd applauded at your improvised performance. After seeing Lazo´s happiness with you, Bucky even stood up.

Shortly after, the next song began and you continued singing the five songs until the last one.

You´ve been talking but believe me.

If it´s true you do not know.

This boy loves without a reason.

I´m prepared to let you go.

If it´s love you want from me.

Then take it away.

Everything is not what you see.

And it´s over agaaaaaaain

Eventually the last song ended, and now the whole crowd (including Lazo) stood up, clapping. Your smile was huge, you really couldn’t (nor wanted) to control it. You looked for your boss in the crowd, and when you spotted him, you realized he was pointing at a door. You took that as a sign of him wanting to talk to you, and your overthinking ass managed to worry you and make you believe he could be mad at you.

You went to the place he pointed at, it was a maintenance closet filled with garden tools, but it was pretty big. Shortly after, Bucky found his way inside and before he could say anything, the second he closed the door, you started.

-Listen, Mr. Barnes, I´m so so sorry for having to do that, there was a problem, you see, the singer Thor hired cancelled like 30 minutes ago and everyone was waiting and Lazo was getting impatient and-

You couldn´t finish before you felt two strong arms hugging you and lifting you from the floor. Your reaction was to put your hands on his shoulder as he turned you around in his arms and laughed. You were gonna need a doctor´s appointment after your boss´ action, or you were literally gonna die.

-DON´T, don´t you dare apologizing! That was AMAZING, I didn´t know you could sing, that was impressive, he was so happy, Jesus. Thank you, Y/N- He said as he placed you back down. He looked at you with those deep blue eyes that had you dying for him. You felt like he was stealing your heart and soul only with his eyes, and you couldn´t help but placing your hand on his cheek.

-You don´t need to thank me, it´s my job. I mean, I did it for the company, and for my boss, and for Thor, and for the event. I couldn´t just let everything fall apart before it started, I couldn´t do that especially to you, Bucky-.

-Especially to me, Bucky?- He asked with a smirk. Fuck, fuck, no, what did I just do.

You just stared into his eyes, expecting him not to take much from what you said, but your mind imploded and stopped working the second you felt his lips covering yours. What in the actual fuck is happening? You didn´t let your mind wander in that question for too long, after all, you were KISSING him. Your hands went to nis neck and his grip tightened in your waist. You both split your lips, letting the other´s tongue explore. He was just perfect, you were covered in his scent, in him. You tasted all you could for as long as you could. But then you both remembered you kind of do need to breath.

You two parted slowly and let your foreheads rest together with wide and dumb smiles. At the same time, you both walked a few steps away and he then opened the door for you. He followed closely behind and soon enough, you were lost together in the crowd with your minds still clouded by the other´s presence. The event started great, it could only get better, and what would happen next, well, you were pretty sure it was gonna be awesome.

[bitchybutcher]

Texts I sent a friend the first time I watched The Boys, Season 2:

-        Gird your loins

-        I’m dying to know more about Black Noir

-        Ugh ffs Homelander smarming about on stage at Translucents funeral

-        It’s an empty box but I suppose how would people know cause invisible corpse

-        WHY IS ANNIE SINGING AT THE INVISIBLE PERVS FUNERAL

-        Aw no straight in with Sad Kevin

-        Oh ok angry drunk Kevin

-        Ugh not these Samaritans Embrace fuckers again

-        Oh Annie. Parroting the company line. I hope she’s gonna fuck them all over

-        SAD HUGHIE OH NO

-        BILLY JOOOOOELLLL

-        Aw Kimiko is learning

-        Her lil smile

-        Oooh Hughie is a liiiiiar

-        Meeting on the subway like a couple shifty teenagers

-        Oh I forgot they microchipped the supes like dogs

-        Oh nooooo young love angst

-        Oh no a Sad Kevin incident

-        Aaaaand he’s been arrested

-        A nice archer bailed him out

-        Omfg the fake Butcher re-enactment

-        Oh do NOT tell me this crazy bastard is gonna drink the frozen breast milk

-        Oh fuck he is

-        What the FUCK, HOMELANDER

-        This visually impaired ninja seems nice

-        That probably means he’s gonna turn out to be a dick

-        OH FUCK

-        Homelander what the fuuuuuck

-        Ok what the shit is happening here in the motel

-        WHAT

-        What the fuuuuuck

-        I – MM is making a dolls house? That’s so cute

-        Oh shit smuggled people

-        Homelander is nuts with power

-        Uhhhh who is Carol and why is she staring at Kevin while he sleeps

-        Finally an archer who is honest about how useless they can be once they run out of arrows

-        Oh noooo are they gonna try brainwash Kevin with homeopathic stuff? And why do they keep offering him Fresca

-        OH FUCK ME NOT ANOTHER RELIGION THING

-        Oh Hughie has grown a pair since last season. Good for him

-        Where’s Butcherrrrrrrr

-        Body gore porn dude is called Gecko that’s too cute a name for him

-        Stormfront seems like fun

-        She’s gonna be pissing off Homelander so much I like her already

-        OH WHAT THE FUCK THE CIA LADYS HEAD EXPLODED

-        I like Stan

-        Giving Homelander the dressing down he needs

-        I know it’s convenient for Toni to wear the padded suit all the time but does Homelander ever wear anything else

-        Oh hiiii Becca I still think you’re a bitch and Butcher deserved better

-        BUTCHERRRRR YASSSSS

-        “Daddy’s home”

-        I’m dead. It’s official.

-        The fuckin smirk and the voice I’m fuckin dead

-        OH NO KEVIN IS TRYING THE CHURCH THING

-        Is he making shroom tea

-        Why is Patton Oswalt voicing Kevin’s gills this is delightful

-        Atrain is awake again that’s not good

-        I’m cracking up at Sad Kevin and his singing gills

-        Homelander is gone way off the deep end oh boy

-        Awwww soft Maeve in the hospital with her girlfriend

-        I want to like Becca but I can’t shake the bad feeling

-        Homelander is a terrible father

-        I mean I know he has no role models to base his parenting on, but yikes

-        It’s like if Scar was raising Simba instead of Mufasa

-        ….are the gang raiding a party city store

-        I love how Frenchie always looks a mix of horrified and amazed whenever Kimiko kills someone

-        AWWW IT’S HER BROTHER YAY

-        Oh shiiiiiiiit

-        Butcher STOP JUST SHOOTING PEOPLE

-        You were right this season is weird

-        I like Kimiko’s brothers bedazzled denim jacket

-        Butcher don’t punch Hughie wtf

-        Starting with Hughie listening to the same song again, nice

-        Butcher is terrible at apologising it’s so cute

-        I’m sorry did Hughie just fall over trying to throw a punch

-        The kid’s a dandelion omg

-        Why are they on a boat? Did Karl just decide “I like being on boats lemme go on a boat”?

-        I see what you mean about Homelander being scary

-        He’s completely insane

-        Why does this storyboard guys shirt say assbinder

-        Chace Crawford is an excessively veiny man

-        BLACK NOIR IS CRYING

-        Or possibly laughing

-        Hard to tell when they have no face

-        Annie actually leaked all the compound V stuff good for her

-        FRENCHIE KISSED HUGHIE

-        Homelander is gonna get this kid killed tryna make him fly

-        Honestly the kid looks more like Hughie

-        OH MY GOD HE PUSHED HIM OFF THE ROOF

-        OH MY SWEET FUCKING JESUS HOMELANDER YOU CAN’T DO THAT

-        Oop there’s the laser eyes

-        Oh Homelander is back at the Tower and freaking Maeve out

-        OH FUCK THE BROTHER IS LOOSE

-        Hughie don’t do it

-        Oh ok I thought he was gonna jump off the boat

-        Kevin and the cult weirdos are up to something

-        Hughie no you don’t call the girl you like crying over Billy Joel lyrics

-        Oh god boyo you don’t then drop the L word in the same voice message!

-        He’s hopeless

-        Oh nooooo Kevin is attacking the boat goddammit Kevin

-        OH FUCK A WHALE

-        For fuck sake Kevin

-        Ewwwww

-        Butcher what the fuck

-        Hughie having a nervous breakdown inside of a whale

-        No but why is Karl so hot covered in blood

-        Actually I didn’t even need to include the blood part of that question

-        Oh boy here we go, the 7 show up to find Sad Kevin crying over spilt whale

-        ….why is Stormfront tryna get all up in Homelander’s ass?? I thought she was cool but now she’s all lemme suck that radioactive dick

-        OH NO

-        Poor Kevin he’s worked so hard to accept his gills and now Homelander has knocked him back down

-        Oooo dear Atrain is having a heart attack again this isn’t good

-        Oh fuck is Hughie gon get caught

-        Oh no it’s Annie it’s ok

-        OH FUCK

-        ANNIE WHY

-        THAT’S YOUR HUGHIE

-        OH MAN KIMIKO’S BROTHER IS BADASS YES SQUASH THE SMUG PRICK

-        Oh I do NOT like Stormfront holy fuckin shit what’s wrong with this woman

-        Poor Kimiko

-        What’s with the random woman talking about calling off her wedding?

-        Why is Frenchie taking drugs

-        FUCK SAKE FRENCHIE DON’T TRY KISS A GIRL WHEN SHE’S GRIEVING

-        What the FUCK is thiiiiis

-        Is he dreaming or is this the shapeshifter tryna stay alive by granting Homelander some sick wish

-        Yikes I feel bad for Doppelganger

-        I am fascinated by whoever and whatever the fuck Black Noir is

-        MM sees right through everyone’s bullshit

-        I feel so bad for Annie

-        Ooooo Atrain getting fired

-        MM having to put up with Hughie and Annie having a we didn’t start the fire singalong 😂

-        Ok who’s in the weird group therapy sesh with these women with strange views on love

-        Vending machine date so cute

-        Omfg ahahahaha the girl with the Ed Sheeran tattoo

-        I really want to like Becca cause she stands up to Homelander but I can’t shake the suspicions about her

-        I feel bad for Butcher

-        Homelander is a scary good liar

-        Oh shit interviewer lady is pulling out the diversity questions

-        OH FUCK

-        HE’S OUTED MAEVE

-        Poor Maeve what the fuck

-        Ugh Stormfront

-        Shut your racist hole bitch

-        Oh shit Kimiko on the warpath

-        Frenchie! Kimiko listen to him he’s tryna help

-        MM is doing a lotta sharing this episode

-        Ohhhh something bad is gonna come out about this Liberty lady they’re looking for oh fuck

-        Wait WHAT. STORMFRONT IS LIBERTY

-        Stormfront is like 70????

-        She’s really good with social media for an old bird

-        Ohhh fuck Homelander is pisssssssssed

-        Christ you’d know Homelander was an only child

-        Bitch you better not be fucking Butcher over

-        I FUCKIN KNEW IT

-        BECCA YOU RAGING BITCH

-        Got her goodbye fuck then called the supercops on him cause he’s a little broken? FUCK BECCA

-        Oh no Annie don’t give Hughie the “we can’t do this” talk

-        Pick your emo ass up and stop being melodramatic

-        All these women are chatting to Kevin?? Why??

-        Also this most recent one is super weird

-        THEY WERE INTERVIEWING TO BE KEVINS WIFE

-        This cult thing is so fuckin weird omfg

-        KEVIN GET YOUR SAD BUTT OUT OF THE CULT

-        Oh gross not the Doppelganger shit again

-        Doppelganger is really bad at flirting

-        ….

-        WHAT THE SHIT

-        Nonononono don’t do the selfcest

-        Not even Homelander is that fucked up

-        This is super weird

-        Why is Homelander crying

-        OH SHIT HE KILLED HIM

-        Uhhhh are they doing a lesbian scene in a vcu movie

-        Christ that was terrible and way too on the nose

-        “Strong female lesbians”

-        Homelander you himbo fuck what other kind of lesbian do you get

-        I feel bad for Ashley

-        She just wants to do her job well

-        Poor Butcher. His lil heart is broken

-        Oh no baby you’re hurt and upset? That’s so sad let me suck your dick about it

-        Oh no what’s he gonna do

-        BUTCHER WHAT THE SHIT

-        I mean it’s really fuckin hot but still

-        There’s always a cut on the cheekbone

-        “They’ve been moving her around like a Catholic priest” omg HUGHIE

-        Aww he called Hughie his canary

-        Oh shit are Frenchie and Kimiko missing?

-        KEVIN GOT MARRIED

-        BILLY HAS AN AUNTIE

-        Doggiiiiie

-        Awwwww soft Butcher with his dog

-        Aaaand now I feel bad for Atrain cause he’s being kicked to the curb

-        Oh gross this interview with Kevin and his cult wife

-        This is so cringe holy fuck

-        Bring back the Patton Oswalt gills

-        Why are the gangsters discussing musicals specifically Hamilton

-        FUCKING HELL KIMIKO PEELED OFF THAT GUYS FACE

-        Ahahaha the boys showed up at Butchers aunties house

-        The dog’s name is Terror that’s so cute

-        Hahahaha Hughie was holding the fuck pig

-        Why is there a sniper on the roof

-        Oh shit it’s Black Noir

-        Ugh what does Annie’s mom want and why is Stormfront being her friend

-        Oh hey it’s dickless

-        These two writer dudes are hella irritating

-        Poor Elena getting dragged into this shit

-        Yes Maeve scheme against his ass

-        Heartbroken Butcher is so tired

-        He needs a hug

-        Hughie give Butcher a hug please

-        Why is Kimiko in a church

-        Oh hey its Frenchie’s other girlfriend

-        Oh ok Kimiko is doing hits that’s fair

-        The old man just looking away like “I do not see it”

-        Aw no Frenchie don’t break up with Kimiko

-        Oh fuck off Cult Kevin

-        Stormfront again?????

-        Does this bitch ever fuck off

-        DID SHE JUST CALL ATRAIN GARBAGE

-        Wait why is Homelander giving an unapproved speech

-        This is gonna end in someone getting murdered isn’t it

-        OH FUCK

-        That’s a lot more murder than I expected

-        Ohhhh phew ok he was just daydreaming

-        Ashley is gonna go bald from stress

-        I adore grumpy Butcher

-        Omg auntie Judy is a drug dealer I love her

-        Ohhhh shit Homelander is having a nervous breakdown

-        BOBBY FROM X-MEN????

-        Uhhhh why is Homelander talking to Stormfront this can’t be good

-        Ooh MM set a trap this gon be good

-        BUTCHER HAS A BROTHER???? THAT HUGHIE IS LIKE

-        Oop Lenny is dead

-        The random explosions as Black Noir trips the traps

-        Oh shit Butcher locked the others out to face Black Noir alone

-        YES MM

-        OH NO MM

-        YES HUGHIE

-        Oh fuck did he KO Butcher

-        Shiiiit shit shit shit

-        Yes Butcher save your Hughie

-        Oh good they all survived

-        For fuck sake Kevin stop with the cult shit

-        Maeve please save Kevin from the cult

-        Annie why are you sneaking around don’t do it

-        There’s a lot of shots of Annie’s bum

-        What the fuck is Sage Grove

-        Stormfront needs to go choke on a bag of dicks

-        Oh fuck no not Homelander again

-        Uhhhhhhh

-        Stormfront x Homelander was not what I was expecting

-        These two have the WEIRDEST relationship

-        They’re gonna do some really fucked up supe bdsm shit aren’t they

-        Frenchie is Betty White. Fair enough

-        Wait what is happening. Why is Annie letting Frenchie at her with a lil saw

-        Ohhh the chip

-        “This might sting a little” FRENCHIE IT’S A FUCKIN SAW

-        Oh fuck that’s a big chip

-        Oh look it’s loves psychotic dream

-        Well that’s suitably gross

-        Aww Kimiko hugging Annie

-        Butcher is so menacing I love him

-        Kevin tryna be helpful to his buddies he’s so cute

-        NO! NO BAD KEVIN! STOP TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE JOIN YOUR CULT

-        Kimiko with her brass knuckle

-        Oh man, flowers??? Homelander has it BAD

-        Annie back the fuck off and leave Butcher alone

-        OH SHIT IT’S STORMFRONT AT THE HOSPITAL NOOOO

-        What the fuck is going on at this hospital

-        OH FUCK BOBBY FROM X-MEN IS LAMPLIGHTER

-        Oh shit who got let out

-        What does Cindy do

-        OH SHIT SHE’S THE HEAD BURSTER

-        Aaaaaaand now they’re all out

-        Good job, guys

-        Ewwwwww acid vomit

-        OH NO HUGHIE

-        Are you kidding me?? Annie can’t go all Starlight unless there’s a power source in the immediate vicinity??

-        What kinda fuckin shite superpower is that

-        Aha Butcher agrees with me

-        Ok so I’m guessing Homelander went berserk on set

-        Uhhhh apparently Cult Lunch is a therapy sesh?

-        Atrain get outta there

-        This cult leader guy is an arsehole

-        Hospital escape lookin like a horror survival game

-        Awwww flashbacks to happy times

-        Omfg Butcher with the slicked back hair

-        Welp, Annie just killed a guy

-        Oh shit a baby seat

-        Annie is gonna have a bad case of the guilts now

-        Oh fuck ok Lamplighter killed the kids by accident

-        So Frenchie went to save his friend instead of tailing

-        Oh god that’s the penis isn’t it

-        Stormfront to the…rescue? Maybe? She’s gonna kill Lamplighter isn’t she

-        Oh, no ok she didn’t kill him

-        Aw no sad Butcher cause Hughie’s hurt

-        Oh nooooo Elena found a video from the plane

-        Mallory gon kill sad Lamplighter?

-        Stormfront is coming clean to Homelander? Whaaaa

-        She was buddies with the Nazis??? SHE WAS MARRIED TO THE VOUGHT FOUNDER GUY

-        Oh fuck the head burster is still alive

-        A montage of how Stormfront is brainwashing people into racist attacks, nice

-        I hate Annie’s mom so much

-        Black Noir has just fuckin LAMPED Annie

-        Butchers mum called him 😂😂

-        Oh shit his dad died

-        Why are Hughie and Lamplighter watching knock off supe porn

-        Oh boy a racist rally

-        Homelander just threw Annie under the bus

-        Hughie that’s a really weird pep talk

-        And he’s gonna get Lamplighter killed

-        BUTCHERS MUM IS ADORABLE

-        Oh shit it’s Denethor

-        And he’s not dead

-        Oh fuck he’s why Lenny died?

-        Shit Lenny shot himself

-        Butcher was SAS???

-        WHERE ARE MY PICS OF BUTCHER IN HIS ARMY UNIFORM

-        Ah fuck he’s bringing stepmommy Stormfront to meet the kid

-        I have an urge to run my fingers through Butchers beard

-        Frenchie and Kimiko are too cute she’s teaching him her sign language

-        Is this a cult birthday party?

-        Poor Eagle the Archer. He pissed off the cult so he’s gon be excommunicated

-        Uhhhh kiddo made a Lego film?

-        Good for him

-        I know it shouldn’t be sexy when Butcher starts threatening to brutally murder people in his growly voice, I know, but hear me out: sexy growly voice

-        11/10 would let Karl Urban murder me

-        Oh FUCK Lamplighter killed himself

-        Poor Hughie

-        Why do all the bad things happen to him, like having to saw off a dead guy’s hand with a broken whiskey decanter

-        Annie versus Black Noir, beat his/her ass girl!

-        HUGHIE COME SAVE YOUR ANNIE

-        YAY MAEVE

-        Black Noir has an almond allergy that’s such an off the wall weakness

-        Annie’s favourite chocolate bar saved her life

-        Well Maeve did, technically. But still

-        Omg Hughie accidentally saving Annie’s mom

-        Hughie and Annie are too cute

-        Oh shiiiiit Homelander screwed the pooch and showed the kid everything

-        HAHA SUCK IT BECCA

-        OH SHIT HEADS ARE BURSTING ALL OVER THE PLACE

-        Butcher in his lil jumper

-        For a non-American, this school safety psa video is supremely weird

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS CALLED BOB

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS JUST BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURAL BUT FANCY

-        Annie’s mom critiquing her choice in boyfriends while in mortal danger is gas

-        And typical

-        The lads going nuts with weapons they’re so happy look at them

-        And Butcher in his lil jumper again he looks so comfy

-        I would very much like to cuddle him in the soft jumper and give him beard scritches

-        Annie ffs let Hughie enjoy his Billy Joel, that’s a good choice

-        Ahahaha Maeve just called Hughie a twink

-        She’s not wrong

-        Oh fuck off Becca

-        Uuuuugh OF COURSE Mr Edgar is in with the cult

-        Oop Atrain overheard all of that

-        Poor Ashley she’s going bald from stress

-        The kid is gonna have a meltdown

-        Poor Hughie with his mom leaving

-        I wonder if she’ll pop up at some point and turn out to be a supe that would be fun

-        ATRAIN YOU CAN’T JUST APPEAR IN A CAR LIKE THAT YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEONE

-        Hold the phone is Homelander actually being a good dad for a minute

-        What the actual fuck is Stormfront on with this white genocide shit

-        Ahahaha the news broke

-        Uh oh the Vought soldiers got caught by Homelander

-        OH SHIT

-        MM BETTER BE OK

-        Becca fuckin constantly squawking about Ryan is so annoying

-        WHY IS KIMIKO LAUGHING

-        It’s adorable but still

-        Oh FUCK she snapped her neck

-        She’ll be fine

-        She’s like a wolverine, snapped neck won’t keep her down

-        AYYYYY MAEVE

-        The lads just watching them kicking the shit out of her like uhhh

-        Oh hey Becca did something useful and stabbed the Nazi in the eye

-        Huh. The kid melted Stormfront

-        Good for him

-        AHAHAHA YES HE GOT BECCA TOO

-        BYEEEEE FELICIAAAAA

-        I mean yeah, heartbroken sad Butcher isn’t nice to see, but Becca sucked

-        Aaaand now Homelander covered in blood has arrived to listen to Stormfront babble in German

-        This is like in those scenes where it’s like oh who will the dog go to

-        Ayyy Atrain got back into the 7

-        Aww poor Kevin getting rejected again

-        See Kevin this is why we don’t join cults

-        Annie thought he was breaking up with her, girl don’t be daft

-        Butcher and the kid, not awkward at all

-        The one lesson Butcher can teach a kid – “don’t be a cunt”

-        Aww happy endings for all the boys

-        Aaaaand a “happy ending” for Homelander too by the looks of it

-        Oh ffs a corrupt politician in with the cult, what a surprise

-        HIS HEAD BURST

-        Wait the politician lady is the head burster? I’m so confused

-        Confusion may have been aided by it being almost 3am

-        Hughie getting a real job, bless him

-        Too bad it’s with the head burster

-        Oh this is such a good song to end the season with

-        Welp, now begins the long wait for season 3, I guess

-        Should I sleep or find fic to read

-        Body says sleep, heart says fic

-        That’s a lie, heart says Butcher

-        ….Butcher fics it is

[imnotwolverine]

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

< PART 2 | PART 3 Women and Wine

Summary: Things don’t always go as planned. But Henry has learned that’s quite alright. If anything, it may just make you closer to loved ones. Also, the banana sock wearing princess is her clumsy-as-ever self. 

Word count: 2.178

Disclaimer: Breakup, teenage insecurity, fluff and wet dicks. I mean. In the fluffy awkward sense of the word. 

--

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

--

‘So far for an outdoor date.’ Aurora scrunched up her nose and looked down at Kal who didn’t pay any mind to the drizzle, nose sniffling through some bushes.

‘Sorry..’ Henry pouted, making her laugh.

‘You know, my apartment isn’t far from here. We can dry off, have some tea? I mean..’ She hesitated, looking back to Henry who got a particularly large drop of rain in his eye.

‘Mmpfff.’ He groaned, wiping furiously at his eye.

‘OH! Are you alright?’

Kal looked up and Henry chuckled. ‘So your initial reservations of not wanting to meet at someone’s place are...gone?’

She shrugged. ‘Drastic times, drastic measures. Come on!’

Kal yapped in agreement and Aurora laughed heartily, the heaven’s cold tears of rainwater not bothering her one bit.

‘Why..?’ The woman who had once kept his heart sobbed, thick tears rolling down her sweet cheeks. Henry swallowed as he clutched her hand a little tighter, her whole body shaking with agony. With every tear on her face he was less sure if he made the right decision.

‘Why don’t you love me?’ Her wine-red lip trembled. ‘Did I..’ She sniffed and burst into another onslaught of tears. Henry sighed quietly. Why did love have to be so hard? With a quick glance he looked at Kal who was lying in the corner of the living room, careful eyes looking back at his owner after he had been told off by the woman - the two had never quite gotten along.

Perhaps that had been a sign.

Henry waited for his mom to pick up the phone. It was Sunday, it was raining in London and he had nothing better to do then..

‘Hello dear.’

‘H-hi mom.’ Henry quickly clicked back to the flower webshop on his browser.

‘Are you alright dear?’

Henry laughed - even after all these years his mother was straight to business when her children called. ‘Mommm…’

‘What?! You never call so early in the day. I can remember the days when you called every hour of..-’

‘Mom, I’m fine.’

‘Alright alright. So there’s nothing the matter?’

‘Nothing. Or well, I just wanted to check if you’re home on Thursday, so your package won’t get lost like last time.’

‘Oh.. OH! Mother’s day. Henry sweetie. You know you don’t have to buy me flowers every year.’

‘And yet I do it anyway, mom.’

Marianne laughed before the line crackled, her voice hushed as she spoke to someone else - probably his father. ‘Alright. Oh! You are too good for me! Also, Colin’s at home. I’m picking up Nick’s cat, since they’re going on a holiday. So no lillies please!’

‘Noted.’ Henry stared at the pictured bouquet on his screen and smiled. 100 roses. ‘No lilies, got it.’

With a confirmative nod he pressed “order”.  

‘And say hi to dad for me!’

Awkwardly tugging at the far too tight and strange looking noose of a knot around his neck, young Henry waited for his father to answer his phone. Nerves were tickling his loins and the more he looked back at the reflection in the mirror, the redder he seemed to get. He had seen his father tie a tie a million times, and yet doing it himself left him suffocating and disappointed in his own abilities.

‘Henry boy.’ His father’s low voice crackled through the bad phone line. He was probably abroad right now.

‘Pa..’ Henry tugged at the tight material around his slim neck.

‘How’s it hanging, hmm?’ -- Colin tried his best to stay hip and cool, but it only made conversations between him and his sons more awkward. Henry silently rolled his eyes.

‘Ehm…’ He cleared his throat, wishing that for once his voice wouldn’t get pitchy mid-sentence. ‘I--’ He pulled at his tie again and managed to let the knot slide out like it had never been there at all. ‘I need your help dad.’

‘Something the matter? Henry, you know you can ask Mr. Mindel for help.’

‘Yea well..eh..I want to learn it myself.’ He squared his shoulders as he looked at his mirror reflection again.

‘And what is..”it” exactly?’ A mix of mirth and pride was heard in his father’s voice.

‘A tie. I’m..I’m trying to get this stupid thing on and ..’ Henry voice got pitchy and unleveled again and he groaned in annoyance.

Colin chuckled and hushed his teenage son. ‘Alright alright. First step..’

With a trained tug at the knot, Henry released the silk tie from his neck. Perhaps it had been a bit over-the-top to wear a suit and tie when going out for lunch and walk Kal with Aurora. But Henry just couldn’t help himself. These clothes just made him feel powerful and secure. Like a modern day armor, shining, sleek and - right now - also terribly uncomfortable and wet.

They had been caught by one of London’s infamous rain showers and had been soaked to the bone. Suit included.

Removing his tie, Henry let his eyes glide over Aurora’s cosy but luxurious apartment, Kal trotting behind Aurora as she ducked into one of the closets in the hallway to fetch some fresh towels.

‘You want one as well, hmm?’

Henry looked up and noted that she wasn’t talking to him, but Kal, the dog happily wagging his tail as he pushed his nose in the fresh towels in her hands. She laughed.

‘Alright then.’ With a quick swoop she pulled another towel from the closet before bumping it closed with her hip, offering one of the towels to Henry who accepted it graciously.

‘Shall I see if there’s some clean clothes that ..fit...you?’ She looked him up and down, obviously unsure whether ANYTHING would fit the colossal form of bulking muscle that was Henry. Henry shrugged.

‘I’ll keep this on if you don’t. Don’t worry.’ He smirked perhaps a bit too temptingly.

They both laughed and Aurora turned around before he could see the blush on her smiling cheeks.

Left alone in the hallway, Henry dried his face and hair, removed his jacket and sauntered over to the living area, which reminded him in a strange way of the 70s decor of some other woman’s home. Letting his eyes glide over the furniture he smiled; large leather couch with a bounty of pillows, Pilea pancake plants, the tiniest tv he probably had seen in his long life and then on the long wall on his right, one absolutely hu-freaking-mongous bookcase.

Turning his attention to said bookcase, he let his eyes roam over the more empty shelves, finding a book he knew well; it once had been his. But there was also her copy. The berry juice ruined one. King Arthur and His Knights. With curiosity Henry opened her berry ruined book, not sure what to find there other than exactly the same exact text. His eye fell on the personal note that was scribbled on the inside. Apparently it had been gifted to her.

‘To the woman who “doesn’t need no knights in shining armour”. Andy.’

‘I eh..oh!’ Aurora shrivelled away as she found Henry. Henry quickly shut the cover of the book, near stumbling back as he tried to apologise for snooping around.

‘I’m sorr-’

‘Sorry!’ She looked away. 

‘No I’M sorry, truly.’

‘No.’ Aurora shook her head and her voice sounded terribly queasy. ‘I’m sorry. Here. Hope it fits.’ She pushed a pile of what looked like a white shirt and jogging pants in Henry’s arms with a quick little glance in Henry’s blue eyes.

Did he fuck it up? Looking with a pained expression at the soft white and grey fabrics in his hands he sighed, forgetting all about his wet clothes and the way a little stream of water was running straight into his butt crack right this instant.

‘I didn’t mean to..snoop.’ He tried, but Aurora shied away even further, making a clear demonstration of turning away from Henry.

‘Aurora? Will you forgive me please?’

Aurora nodded with her head still firmly turned away.

‘Will you at least look at me?’

And then, with the slowest of head turns in human history, one beet red head looked back at him, lips biting to keep a chuckle at bay. Henry frowned, before realising that he had completely, utterly miscalculated the situation. She was not mad at him, she was.. With a slight slip Aurora’s eyes moved back down - before quickly shooting back up and away. So that was it huh? She was trying to look anywhere but to the very clear outline of his …

Dick.

--

So this is why men don’t partake in wet T-shirt contests.

‘Oh my gods!!--’

‘It’s like sugar--’

‘TURN IT OFF.’

‘So sweet.’

‘HEN.’

‘Good enough..’

‘HENRY.’

‘..to eat.’

Grumbling a hand appeared from beneath the fluffed up blankets, searching blindly for the phone that was blaring out happy tunes into the dark bedroom. In the background a shower was heard, Henry totally oblivious to his very displeased bedbug.

Turning off the hot stream of water, Henry wrapped himself in a towel, hair dripping wet as he brushed a hand over his cheek to check if it could do for the moment. Geralt could have a little stubble right? He grinned at himself in the mirror and made for the bedroom, silent feet padding to reach for his gym gear like he did every morning.

‘Baaaabeeeeeee.’ A groggy voice that in no way fit his pretty girlfriend erupted from the sheets. Henry halted his tiptoeing.

‘Your phoneeeeeee.’

‘OH! oh.. Sorry.’ Henry bit his lip as the groggy voice mimicked in horrid echo:

‘All I wanna do is get ye

Body next to mineeee.’

Henry chuckled as the sheets folded back a little so a grabby hand could reach for him.

‘Haha..oh why love, I’m WET.’

‘AS AM I. Now get in here.’ The blindly grabbing hand searched like a needy worm for anything it could attach to, making Henry chuckle even harder.

She truly was atrociously cute in the morning. With a quick flip of the hand he managed to slip back under, making the room echo with a loud squirming squeak.

‘HENRY.. YOu!’

The both of them laughed.

With a little kick in his step Henry stepped into his parent’s kitchen, the rural stone tiled room filled with the smell of fresh baking pastry and female chatter.

‘A rose..’ He pulled one of his hidden away hands from behind his back to offer a rose to his mother. ‘For my dear mom.’

Marianne chuckled and rolled her eyes at Henry’s antics, before smiling even wider when the other hand served an even prettier rose to the brunette with the princess name. Aurora snorted out with laughter.

‘YOU DORK!’

Henry gasped in mock-hurt and grasped for his chest. ‘My heart, my love! Why must thee hurt it so.’

Aurora stepped in and pressed a little kiss on Henry’s pouting lips. ‘For love cometh of the heart and not by constraint.’ She smiled and smelled the rose ‘..for love is free.’

Marianne chuckled. ‘Well it’s from the garden, so I guess it’s free. Can you call your dad for me? Lunch is almost ready.’

‘Why of course I can mother dear!’

Marianne widened her eyes, urging him to move on. Henry laughed and winked at Aurora before he made his way to the back of the house.

‘These men of ours. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.’

Aurora leaned into the kitchen counter and smiled. ‘It takes a lot to make a man. Tis true. But I do think Henry is a man enough on his own.’

‘You do?’

‘You raised him well you -- all of you did.’

‘Two books?’ Aurora frowned as she pulled the books from their pretty packaging. Henry was beaming with a smile from ear to ear.

‘The same exact..books?’

Henry nodded eagerly.

‘Hen..I know I might be a little clumsy, but…’

‘Nooo no. I thought..’ He scooted a little closer to her on the couch, making Kal grumble who had just found the perfect spot atop Henry’s feet. ‘I thought we could read together. On the plane? It’s a long way to Canada.’

Aurora flipped open the cover of the book on top, shrugging that Henry might have a point, before letting her eyes roam over the little note written in the inside of the cover page.

‘Careful with that berry juice, princess. x. Henry’

‘Youuu…’ Aurora moved to jab at Henry, but he managed to reflect her hand with practised ease.

‘Me?’ He grinned.  

‘Oh yes you.’

‘What about me?’ His smile grew wider.

Aurora shook her head then sighed in defeat. ‘Alright then. You win.’

‘I win?’ Henry acted overly victorious and smug.

Aurora’s smile melted away. ‘I..’ She swallowed. ‘-I think I love you. I wanted to say it when I meant it an--’

Henry’s smile dropped as well, eyes widening.

‘You..? You mean..’

‘You have to kiss me now okay? I mean..that’s what princes do when..--’

Henry didn’t skip a beat. 

And good gods did they kiss a lot. 

--

Also: good gods, who in their right minds places red wine on the edge of the couch seating with a pristine looking book like that nearby? Let’s just say the plane ride to Canada only had one copy of Pride & Prejudice - The Illustrated Edition on-board. 

--

End. 

--

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69​ @madbaddic7ed​ @luclittlepond​ @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @hell1129-blog​ @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide​ @elinesama​ @maddyreads14​

@beck07990

[notphilosopherstudentblog-moved]

unnecessary dream smp (but not really) mock trial post

pt. 2

*warning: long post* 

I have been having a terrible mock trial season so far, so I decided to cope by theorizing what the dream smp members would be like in mock trial. I will try to explain mock trial terms as much as possible, but all you really have to understand is that it is fake court. it is court roleplay, that’s it

Direct - an interrogation of your own witness to help you prove your case

Cross - an interrogation of the opposing teams’ witnesses to help you prove your case by poking holes in theirs

Case law - the “laws” of the fake world that the American Mock Trial Association set in place that set precedents for how each side is supposed to argue their cases; these are typically in the form of court cases

Voir dire -  a preliminary examination of a witness or a juror by a judge or counsel; this comes in the form of opposing counsel interrupting a direct in order to prove that the witness is not fit to make their testimony for one reason or another 

Wiggling - the refusal to answer a question with a direct yes or no in order to not weaken a witness’ testimony

Defendant - the person/corporation being charged with a crime

Dream Team and Co.

Dream 

everyone hates him as attorney and I say this with full confidence

because he’s hyper-aggressive during cross

but also because he’s right 

like a lot

he knows case law like the back of his hand 

he made flashcards

and he’s memorized this year’s case like immediately after it comes out

he made spreadsheets and like ten page document for every witness, including what they bring to the case and what makes them a weak witness 

I mean come on this is the same dude who played one game and hyperfixated on it so hard that he became one of the best players on the internet

his team loves him because he basically writes their entire case for them, but they’re also worried for him because he just rewrites cases on whim in the middle of the night and doesn’t mention it until someone (usually sapnap) brings it up during practice

back on topic, he usually kills it as an attorney and people are like visibly terrified when he’s their attorney

he was pretty meh as a witness when he first started but he’s actually really good now

he used to be terrible at holding a character during a direct/cross

as he’s gone along and practiced, he’s gotten much better!!!

he’s terrifying to go against as an attorney or witness, but attorney is definitely his strong suit

George

george as an attorney is a concept that I hold near and dear to my heart 

I feel like they treat him the same way people treat him playing Minecraft: by severely underestimating him because he makes dumb jokes and is super quiet, but he’s actually really good!!

he’s probably super nonaggressive during cross and directs, but he goes hard during voir dire

he’s like suspiciously good at voir dires

and like forcing people to impeachments

he decimates witnesses and gets their testimonies thrown out

his teammates are suspicious that the other teams are in on it because there is no reason why he should get this many voir dires/impeachments...but he does

(he’s just really good guys, I promise)

it’s definitely not because he’s cute and witnesses don’t know how to handle it and then they slip up and he comes down hard on them

people always forget he set, like, a record for number of voir dires at a tournament, so he has this reputation as being the weakest of the dream team

he’s such a strong attorney

but oh my god his witness

do not, and I repeat, DO NOT let this man be a witness

he cannot act

he just reverts back to his personality and he has No Inflection

you think the British accent will give you points?

they can’t make up for his inability to maintain a character

Sapnap

this man is fucking PSYCHOTIC whether he is attorney or witness

he goes absolutely feral on crosses and it intimidates witnesses so much, even if they’ve been competing for years

he’s just super good at crosses, but do not put him with an emotional witness because he has this remarkable inability to act comforting

his friends can come to him with anything and they’ll talk about it and he’ll comfort them

but it’s like his emotions turn off as soon as he enters a round

it’s fucking wild

you only put him as a witness if you want that witness to have a) feral characterization, b) sexual undertones, or c) both

his witnesses are infamous every year

he is very good for throwing people off their game with out-of-left-field characters and other teams hate him for it

every single one of his characters dresses up like a frat boy trying to dress for court and it’s so funny

but he still gets other competitors hitting him up after comps, men or women

Do Not try to approach him outside of trial though because he is the definition of a quiet kid if he’s not around his friend

he will be too awkward to talk to you

Karl

I love love love Karl to death, but he is not built to be an attorney

he only plays witness

and he’s really good at it!!

he’s super fun as a witness and he wiggles a lot on answers

attorneys hate that he wiggles a lot because it’s frustrating

but there is nothing they can do about it

he doesn’t get a lot of witness roles, but the ones he does get, he kills 

he gets an absurd amount of thirst posts on the mock trial confessions facebook page

like an absurd amount

it’s become a joke amongst the dream team

there is a tally kept for how many thirst posts Karl gets

he doesn’t even have to compete

people will just see him in the room and become thirsty

an icon truly

it’s because his character outfits are hot as hell, literally all the time 

you have to wear business casual/professional during trial and we all know that Karl would look hot as FUCK in a suit

also everyone in college mock trial is horny

Badboyhalo

bad in mock trial would kill as an attorney

everyone loves bad

even opposing teams

because he’s just so sweet??? for like no reason??? 

he’s done mock trial since freshman year high school and he’s competed against (and earned the respect of) some of the best mockers in the country

he’s notorious for being super kind outside of trial and during pre-trial

but he’s terrifyingly ruthless during trial

he’s similar to dream and george, but he has a much better reputation

there was an anonymous hate message about bad on the mock trial confessions page and there was a crusade to figure out who it was

(his teammates ended up snitching on him because bad is just that beloved)

he definitely received several scholarships because he is just that good

he does not like witness

so he just does not do it

Schlatt

schlatt is the most iconic mocker

like people outside of mock trial know who he is

he’s trended on twitter

he’s really good at every role he plays, even though he plays them to their most feral extremes

he played an expert last year and spent the entire time heavily implying that his character was god

the worst part is he received a witness award for it at

every

single

tournament

every single one

judges would make a point to commend him after matches

every single time his name got announced at closing ceremonies, people died inside

it was extremely amusing for everyone on the dream team

the same year as his maybe-god character, there was a rash of anonymous confessions about schlatt and wilbur soot from another team

a cross between them at competition was so extremely homoerotic that people began shipping them immediately

this is carried on for the entirety of the season

they played into it heavily

there is still an ongoing bet on whether or not they’ve fucked

Quakity

quackity always ends up playing the defendant and always plays them super sus

memes are made about him simply because he is so suspicious every time

he once brought a guitar and attempted to sing his entire direct because his character was a singer

he was asked to leave by the judge immediately

his teammates made him an award titled ‘quickest disqualification in mock trial history’

he treasures it like a child

his teammates love him because he is hilarious

but they also hate him because he always tries to make his characters’ background that they are or were at one point strippers 

no matter if they already have a background laid out by AMTA, alex

he never plays attorney

there is no reason why

he just never does

this became extremely long for absolutely no reason, but I hope you enjoyed it. I wanna do another one for SBI and co, but not right now. I’m writing this at 215 with a Slimecicle video playing the background. I have to be up at 7 for a mock trial tournament

this is helping me cope

[eponymiad]

Queen’s Thief Appreciation Day Four: An AU (this is a country western AU. Drag me for it, if you must. I deserve it. But it has been a JOY to write). 

Irene's friends drag her out to a country western bar. She's less than thrilled to be there. Helen's obnoxious cousin, on the other hand, is thrilled.

*

Irene can’t believe her friends tricked her into a night out at this godforsaken country western bar again. She’s leaning against a wall in the darkest, emptiest corner of the bar and she’s— well, she’s painfully aware of what a TV stereotype she looks like, brooding in a corner, sipping her double whiskey and glowering at the crowded dance floor. She’s not going to pretend otherwise.

She’s still annoyed when her brooding is interrupted.

“Those are really cool earrings.”

She jumps at the sudden voice in her ear, close and loud enough to be heard over the music. Irene turns to look at the guy, who looks pleased to have gotten a reaction. How the hell hadn’t she seen him walk up?

Irene knows him, but can’t seem to place him. He’s got warm, brown skin; dark, curly hair, and... Oh. He only has one hand.

Helen’s cousin.

Irene can’t remember his name— something old-school, maybe a family name? Or religious?— even though they’ve met a few times, at bars and parties. He’s much younger, and from what she can remember, immature and desperate for attention.

Clearly that hasn’t changed. He’s managed to take the western theme entirely too seriously. He’s in a Nudie suit — dear gods, did he own this already? — embroidered with erupting volcanoes, some men sword-fighting, and what looks, inexplicably, like elephants. His brown leather cowboy boots have matching gold accents, and his double ear piercing includes a thin gold hoop and what looks like a carved sapphire stud. The entire outfit is ridiculously over the top.

Much to Irene’s irritation, it actually works.

“What?” she says. She’s distracted.

“Your earrings — they’re really cool,” he repeats.

Her hand flies up to the golden bees dangling from her ears. They’re her favorite earrings, inherited from her mother. She wouldn’t have worn them tonight if she had known she’d be coming here. “Thank you.”

He smiles at her, warm and friendly, if a little awkward. “Gen, by the way,” he says loudly, talking over the noise. “I know we’ve met but, well.” He gestures at the loud, drunken space around them as if that explains why he expected her to have forgotten him.

It probably does.

“Irene.”

“I remember,” he says with another warm smile. It tugs at something in her chest.  

“But really, what’re you doing wearing those earrings here? Those are the nicest things this bar has ever seen,” he says.

She gives his Nudie suit a once over.

“Well,” Eugenides says, with a thoughtful head tilt. “Maybe tied for the nicest thing.”

“Mmm,” she says, and half-turns back to look at the dance floor, worrying one of her earrings between her thumb and forefinger. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

From the corner of her eye, Irene can see he brightens, though she can’t imagine why.

“Well, you’d have to ask me out first, but I’d say your chances are pretty good.”

Her single raised eyebrow belies the hitch in her breath she manages to hide. That was obnoxiously smooth.

“I’m going to dance,” he says, left hand — only hand — palm up, tilted slightly toward her in offering. “Join me?”

She looks at him. “No.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. It was nice talking to you, Irene,” he says, and waltzes off to the dance floor. Within seconds, he’s found someone else to dance with.

*

Irene is leaning against the bar, a fresh drink in her hand, when the music shifts to something upbeat and familiar. Oh — apparently they’ve moved on to the line dancing part of the night.

She’s watching the drunken crowd dance to “Cotton-Eye Joe” when she spots Gen. He’s front and center, dancing in a group, and somehow, inexplicably…he’s good.

A line dance to “Cotton-Eyed Joe” isn’t supposed to be something anyone is good at — it’s a dance they teach five-year-olds in PE. It doesn’t involve any actual skill.

Except apparently it does. Gen is moving with a practiced grace that shouldn’t be allowed at a country western bar. He’s dancing in time with Helen and five or six other people who look as though they could be relatives . Irene wonders if they’re one of those families — it happens sometimes, a group shows up who is so good it blows everyone else in the room out of the water.

Irene can’t stop watching them.

Eugenides looks over at the bar and catches her eye. She still can’t bring herself to look away. He gives her a giant, toothy grin and, without ever looking at his dance partners, slips his right arm over one man’s shoulder, his left arm around a woman’s waist, and together they lift two women off the ground for a spin.

*

“Red wine, please. And a cup of water?”

Gen has appeared at her side again, fresh off the dance floor, face sweaty and hair a little wild.  

The bartender looks back at him funny. Gen tilts his head, feigning ignorance. Irene snorts. Gen doesn’t turn, but she sees a tiny upward tilt at the corner of his mouth.

The bartender rolls his eyes and pours the wine without any more fuss. Gen’s smile is victorious when the other man looks away.

Drinks in hand, Gen turns toward her. “Having fun?”

“Definitely,” she says, sarcastically. “Nothing more fun than fending off drunk assholes at a bar.”

Eugenides wrinkles his nose. “Well, I’m not that drunk. But point taken,” he says, with a nod, and starts to leave.

Ah, shit.

“No,” she says, with a quick hand on his elbow. He freezes. “I meant— Not you.”

“Ah,” is all he says, and takes a sip of his wine. “Why’re you here, then? Aside from admiring my dance moves.”

She gestures at the throng of people. “Got dragged out by friends. If I leave, they’ll just make me go out next weekend. If I stand here and drink my whiskey while they dance with drunk strangers, it buys me another two months.” She shrugs.  

Gen smiles. “Do you want to get some air?” he says, and gestures at the exit with his right arm.

Irene debates. She doesn’t want to give him the wrong impression — she knows what men are like. One yes and suddenly they think they’re entitled to positive answers the rest of the night. Alternatively, he seems marginally less drunk than everyone else who has approached her, and it’ll get her away from the guy who’s been leering at her across the bar for 20 minutes now.

“Sure,” she says, and heads toward the door without waiting to see if he follows.

*

Of course he follows.

Outside, where the din from the club is distant, they have a real conversation. He lives up in the mountains, and hates horses, and asks for the story behind her earrings. She tells him about the vintage jewelry collection her mom left behind, and about running her dad’s company.

“What do you do? Or are you still in school or...?”

Eugenides laughs.”I’m a computer hacker, basically. But an ethical one,” he assures her.

“What does that even mean?”

“Companies pay me to break into their systems and expose security threats. It’s fun,” he says, and waggles his eyebrows a little. Irene laughs despite herself.

They chat some more, but eventually there’s a lull in the conversation that neither of them seem to know how to fill. She’s swirling the ice in her glass idly, fighting her desperation to be home with a reluctance to end the conversation.

“Do you want another drink?” Gen says tentatively, like maybe he thought she was angling for him to buy her one.

“No, I think I’m going to head home,” she says, because the...everything is getting to her, the concentration of stimulus and emotions making her skin itch,

“Oh, okay,” he says, and he definitely sounds disappointed. Which, again, is the problem with ever telling men yes.

“I need to close out my tab though,” she says. He nods, and makes his way toward the door.

*

The dancing looks fun. It always looks fun. It’s the actual act of dancing that’s less than enjoyable. Crowded dance floors, strangers trying to touch you, people watching…

Irene wishes — though she’ll rarely even admit it to herself — that she could dance with the carefree abandon she’s seen people like Eugenides relish in her entire life. Unfortunately, she wasn’t afforded that luxury.

Irene is eying people on the dance floor while she waits for the bartender to finish up with someone else. She sees Eugenides watching her in her periphery. She looks at him. Gone is the shy kid from two minutes ago. The sly smile is back. It’s like he can see through her; it’s unnerving.

“Irene...do you want to dance?”

She hesitates, but just for a second. Fuck it.

Gen looks delighted.

He leads her out to the dance floor. The song switches just as they find an empty spot, and Irene freezes. She’s not going to do a fucking square dance, and she’s certainly not going to do it with him. Gen might have a modified choreography with his relatives, but that doesn’t mean he can manage to dance one-handed with a woman who barely knows the steps. She’s awful at following dances she doesn’t already know. She’s going to fuck this up and embarass them both.  

Somehow, Gen picks up on her exact freakout. He shakes his head. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got you. Just reach for me like you’re expecting my right hand, but I only use my left.”  

And he does.

Irene is fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to explain, even in an hour, how the hell Gen does it, but she makes it through the entire dance without messing up a single time. It’s entirely thanks to him.

It’s also...very fun.

She’s not sure how long they’ve been dancing, but Gen is spinning her every few seconds to something carefree and upbeat, her hair slipping out of her bun, when a very large man puts an arm on Eugenides’s shoulder to get his attention. Irene recognizes him from earlier — she’s fairly certain he’s one of the cousins.

“Gen,” says the man, with an accent so heavy she can hear it from the first word. “We have to go.”

Gen looks at his cousin sharply. “Why?”

“Boagus,” the man says with a heavy eye roll. “Got into a fight outside.”

Gen narrows his eyes up at the man, but eventually shakes his head in resignation.

The tall man looks from Irene to Eugenides. “I’ll meet you outside,” he says over the music, and walks off.

Eugenides turns to her. “What luck you have,” he says, and his smile is back to shy. He hesitates for a second.

Irene wants to say something — though she has no idea what — and she’s probably being ridiculous — when Gen leans forward just enough for her to realize what he’s going to do. He pauses, and gives her time to pull away. Instead, she can feel herself swaying toward him just enough that he takes it as invitation to close the gap.

He has his hand on her jaw, angling her face down toward his just a little. The kiss is far too soft and sweet for the middle of a sweaty dance floor, surrounded by drunken fools and loud, pounding music.

It’s a really nice kiss.

When he pulls away, he grins at her, a full-faced thing that makes his eyes twinkle.

“Bye,” he says, with a quick wave, and he’s gone.  

What the fuck was that?

*

Irene kicks off her kitten heels and dumps her purse on her silver entryway table the second she’s through the door.

This was a weird night, and she’s so relieved to be home she could cry. Her skin is still prickling from the kiss-and-dash, and all she wants to do is scrub the night off of her with a hot shower.

She gets the water running, and doubles back for her phone while it heats up. Maybe she’ll put on some music — ABBA or Beirut or literally anything but country music.

She flips open her crossbody bag, and sees a folded napkin she definitely didn’t put in there. Opening it, she recognizes the horse and lilies from the bar’s logo. Scribbled in terrible handwriting just below it is a name and number—

Gen

471-288-6547

*

Find it on AO3 here! 

My ETERNAL, undying love to @helvetica-upstart for the life-changing betas. 

[nightwingshero]

Character Study

I was tagged by @scarlettkat86 thank you, dear!

Yeah...I only did my favorites the ones I’m currently focused on right now. Jane is on the list, but I honestly think three is enough for this. Besides, it’s super early in the morning. 

Dahlia Strong

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Dahlia Mae Strong

EYE COLOUR: They’re ice green

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: It changes, darling. It’s brown, clearly, but whether it’s short or long usually goes with the trend. But it’s normally short with curls.

HEIGHT: 5′03″

CLOTHING STYLE: *sigh* obviously whatever is currently in style. Mostly a dress with heels, stockings, a clutch and a nice coat and hat to go with. Now, I have heard of the women’s suits. Aunt Pol just got one and mine are coming in soon. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: *laughs* All of me isn’t enough? Mmm...I would say that perhaps my eyes would be the best. Maybe my smile, it tends to get people’s attention. Although Alfie would say it’s something else...and well, that’s not exactly appropriate for polite conversation, now is it?

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: I’m a Shelby, we don’t fear anything. But if I had to choose...losing my family and those dear to me. Our family is very close, don’t fuck with us, dear. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: I have a weakness for treats and sweets. There’s also a “baker” in Camden Town.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Stupidity. I have little patience for it. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Succeeding with our family, dear. Shelby Company Limited is doing well. But I think deep down, I really would like to retire somewhere relaxing and enjoy that success. 

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Fucking hell, what did I have to do today?

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: The business, of course. Business comes first, darling. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: None of your bloody business.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: Darling, I am very good at sweet talking and getting out of trouble.I’m also good at yelling at people...

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Group date...? Is that another term for orgy? I would prefer not to, but thank you. There’s a certain...someone who would not appreciate my participation in such a thing.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Respected. People don’t listen to you if they don’t respect you, my dear. Make sure they know who the boss is. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: What’s wrong with having both? That’s where the power lies, dear. Always choose both.

DOGS OR CATS: I have a cat, but I also adore dogs. They’re very cute, and good to keep around the house in case of protection. 

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, would I?

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Bloody hell, of course I do. 

BELIEVE IN LOVE: Oh. Well, that’s an odd question. What does that matter?

WANT SOMEONE: *clears throat* I...I would rather not talk about this.

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Oh, of course. I was a burlesque dancer. 

DONE DRUGS: No, although Finn tells me that snow is fun. Or well, cocaine, I should say. I haven’t tried it though, I’m rather fun without it. 

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: No. I am who I am, darling. People change to fit in with me.

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: I like creams, grey, and blue. Also black. Very nice. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Animal? I like horses and deer. 

FAVORITE BOOK: I have too many to name. I have a full library. Would you like to see?

FAVORITE GAME: I like playing cards with my cousins. Arthur always gets so upset when I beat him. 

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: Oct 2.

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 36. That’s a rude question, dear. 

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: My family, money...a certain man that will remain nameless, and if you say a word, I will cut out your tongue.

I FEEL: Fine. I feel fine. 

I HIDE: Whatever I have to. 

I MISS: running in the grass in my bare-feet. That is fun, darling. 

I WISH: You’d piss off. But I suppose I wish something planned out would go right for fucking once. I swear, Tommy and I will go grey from it. 

Wren Blake

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Wren Marie Blake

EYE COLOUR: Blue green, they kinda change. 

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: My hair is black. I either keep it in a ponytail because it’s easier, but I also wear it down, too.

HEIGHT: 5′04″, unfortunately.

CLOTHING STYLE: I like skinny jeans, honestly. With a tank top, maybe a flannel. I have some t-shirts, too. And I’ll wear a leather jacket sometimes with combat boots. I have dress pants, heels, and some button ups, along with some dresses that John bought me. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: My body from the neck down because have you seen my tattoos? *goes to take shirt off* I can show you if you like?

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: Not being good enough and being alone. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: Singing in the shower. 

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Being lied to. Don’t fucking do it. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Enjoy peaceful time. Is that so bad?

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Five more minutes. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: How fucking stressed I am all the damn time now. Fuck. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: I think about going to sleep because I fucking need it. 

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: I don’t know, my sense of humor? Randy says its my talent at trying to kill people with my driving, but fuck him. 

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Single dates. I don’t do groups of people, not my thing. 

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Both. I want people to love how much the respect me, and respect how much they love me. *chuckles* see, sense of humor. I’m hilarious. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: Brains. But not in a zombie way. 

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: I try my best not to. 

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Eh...

BELIEVE IN LOVE: ...Yes

WANT SOMEONE: None of your business!

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Yes

DONE DRUGS: I had some fun in college...ever had acid?

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: I’ve done it before, but I don’t anymore. What’s the point of it?

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: Black, navy blue, and burgundy. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Ravens, hawks, owls, and foxes.

FAVORITE BOOK: I like a lot of things. Jane Austen is a personal favorite, along with Edgar Allen Poe. Crime and Punishment is a good one, too. But I think Carrie by Stephen King holds dear to my heart. 

FAVORITE GAME: Video games or...? Because Spider-man, the Arkham trilogy, and God of War are pretty awesome. I like kicking Randy’s ass at Uno. There’s also drinking games...

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: June 24th

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 28.

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: Singing, reading, listening to music, doing whatever I want that makes me happy. My friends. 

I FEEL: Stressed. All the time. 

I HIDE: My feelings and my stash of energy drinks. 

I MISS: *sigh* My mom. I really miss my mom. 

I WISH: This shit would stop, I’m tired of the fighting. 

Randy Miller

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Randall Michael Miller. But just...call me Randy, okay? I fucking hate  that name. 

EYE COLOUR: Blue

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Uh, it’s brown...and I brush it sometimes, does that...does that count as styling? I wear hats too. 

HEIGHT: 5′09″

CLOTHING STYLE: Pants, shirt, leather jacket and boots. I have suits too, I think. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: *laughs* arms. Definitely my arms. I tell Jane it’s my ass. 

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: *coughs* Wren’s fucking driving. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: Fruity drinks. I don’t give a fuck, they’re good and they fuck you up quickly. Jane makes fun of me. 

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Don’t...don’t touch my bike, man. If you don’t want your face beat in, don’t touch my fucking bike. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Pssh, don’t have any. Can I just worry about today? I think that’s enough. 

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Fuck this. And then I go back to sleep. Jane usually drags me out of the house. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: My dogs and my bike.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: I can’t wait to go to sleep.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: Oh...I guess my loyalty? Trustworthiness? Fuck if I know...my arms? Look, I can fight, okay?

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Eh...that all sounds like a rough time, I don’t date...well. Can...can we just skip that?

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Respected. Respect me, respect the bike, don’t touch it, and respect my dogs. Or else. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: I have both, so no brainer there...wait...

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs. Cats freak me the fuck out. 

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: When I need to

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: I believe I’m pretty fucking awesome.

BELIEVE IN LOVE: Why are you asking?

WANT SOMEONE: *clears throat and shifts uncomfortably* Why are you asking these weird questions?

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Fuck no.

DONE DRUGS: I plead the fifth...Johnny taught me that one. 

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: Fuck no. 

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: Black and dark green. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Hawks and wolves are pretty cool. So are bears, when they’re not trying to kill you. 

FAVORITE BOOK: I like a lot of Ernest Hemingway, but I read mostly poetry. 

FAVORITE GAME: I kick Wren’s ass at Uno. We do drinking games, too. And Monopoly, but don’t tell her I told you. 

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: July 1st

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 31.

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: Fighting, riding dirt bikes and my motorcycle, my dogs...all kinds of things. 

I FEEL: Tired. 

I HIDE: My fucking whiskey because Wren and Jane steal it. 

I MISS: Motorcross racing. It’s so much fucking fun, man. 

I WISH: I had another dog. I’ve been thinking about either getting a German Shepherd, Boxer, or a Pitbull. I don’t know yet...I might get all three. 

Tagging: @pd3 @simonxriley @xbaebsae @tomexraider @faithchel @risenlucifer @abosaa @ja-crispea @dieguzguz @trialandseed @princess-underthemountain

[awakenthereveal]

A CRIMINAL MASQUERADE

CHAPTER 1 — JU HAKNYEON

“Being rich is pure torture”

MASTERLIST

"Darling," a familiar voice calls, capturing the attention of Haknyeon, who has his nose dug into the intriguing plot of a story about a psychopath on the loose. Haknyeon looks up to see his mother smiling at him, her dress and hair extravagant as per usual. Haknyeon closes his book after bookmarking his page and feeds his mother his attention, his face poker as per usual. "You do remember the masquerade party we are to attend, right?" She inquires.

He grips his book tightly, attempting to contain and mask his annoyance. He hates masquerade balls since no one ever has anything interesting to say and the girls there would try hopelessly to seduce him. Visuals are a curse in his eyes. He'd much rather be ugly and not be harassed by annoying woman. God, the things he'd do to feel like a normal person who isn’t cursed with his visuals.

"Unfortunately," Haknyeon replies, standing from the comfortable aqua single couch decorated with light pink roses, outlined in white. His mother sighs and shakes her head at his unwillingness to go to something as fun as a masquerade. Who wouldn't miss the opportunity to socialise and dance to wonderful classical music?

The answer to her question is Haknyeon. He hates interacting with people and much prefers to keep to himself, diving deep into a world of fiction to escape the harsh reality before him. Being rich is also a curse. He'd do anything to be a simple middle-class citizen, though his mother would strictly forbid it.

"Why are you so hesitant to go, my dear? Chanhee is attending, and you ought to see your best friend, don't you?" His mother tries to shamelessly bribe him, making him sigh and remove her hand from his arm.

"I know I ought to meet Chanhee, it's just that I wish to meet him under different circumstances, not at a damned masquerade ball," Haknyeon answers, spite painfully evident in his voice. He never cares about whether he offended his mother with his brutally honest answers because he has been taught to be honest. It'd be against his morals if were to lie to his mother.

"Don't use that language with me, young man," reprimands his mother, a frown on her face. Haknyeon rolls his eyes, sighs and shakes his head. His mother has always been annoyingly sensitive about his language and it annoys the shit out of poor Haknyeon.

"Don't frown, mother, it makes you look like a fucking horse," he advises snarkily, srunching his face. "Anyways, I'll start to get ready, farewell." He turns his heel and waltzes into his room before his mother could continue to nag him any longer. He laughs quietly to himself before shooting a bitter look at his massive wardrobe full of suits that he hates weating with a passion. Oh, how I'll never miss you, he thinks as he searches through the similar suits for something to wear.

After a long time of being indecisive, Haknyeon settles for a simple black suit with a golden mask that circles his eyes, the glitter shining under the dim lighting in his room. His hair is styled simply, tousled, raven black and swept to one side that slightly covered his mask. He looks unreal in the mirror, his soft features added with the simple and formal look creating a godlike look on him.

His mother claps and squeals excitedly as Haknyeon trudges down the stairs, his pink lips a straight line. "Look at how handsome my son looks!" His mother boasts to his father, who is an exact replica of Haknyeon but older and taller. They even share the same stoic look.

"Of course," his father replies in his deep, cold voice. "He takes it after me." He adds with a small, prideful smile. His mother lets out a loud laugh and agreed, her arm around Haknyeon's waist. Haknyeon feels extremely uncomfortable in this awkward situation. He wants nothing more than to leave this awkward situation.

He watches with a bored expression as his mother, who has adorned herself in a baby pink dress with a tight corset underneath, struggles into the carriage, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. He finds his mother too over dramaitc and social, and the fact she expects him to be like that annoys him even more than he he was.

The ride to his mother's friend's mansion is long and bumpy. Every time Haknyeon tries to take a nap, he is jerked awake by a rock on the road. He doesn’t want to be awake listening to his mother rave on about whatever comes to mind. He respects his father for being able to deal with someone as obnoxious as his mother.

"Haknyeon, I think it's time we talk about marriage," his father addresses. He is trying to take a nap but is wide awake when he heard the word he dreads most: marriage. He is only twenty-one and has aspirations of staying single and perhaps even start his own business with Chanhee, but no, his obnoxious mother just had to persuade his father into getting him to marry. We'll get grandkids, darling, imagine how cute they'd be. Her words make him want to barf out his afternoon tea.

"Father, I've told you countless times that I don't want to get married," Haknyeon frankly tells his father, his tone flat as usual. "Children, women, being a father, none of it appeals to me. I wish to start a business, do something productive, not simply be a father. Why must you treat me like a damned woman?" He rants, concluding with a scoff.

"Haknyeon, how dare you oppos-" his mother starts.

"Be quiet, will you? We're here and I don't want my experience to be worse than it already is." Haknyeon requests rudely, jumping out of the door opposing his mother. He can hear how offended she is from where he stood, her voice loud and angered, but he doesn’t give a damn. It isn’t like she wanted the best for him, just the best for her.

He marvels at the magnificent structure before him, his mouth agape despite being to places like this countless times. Pristine white walls; two marble pillars that holds the shelter above the doors; a well-maintained garden; windows covered by white lace curtains; golden outlining on the roof and other edges. It is dreamlike.

Hesitantly, Haknyeon follows his parents into the elegant mansion, but there is there was something in his gut that tells him that something is bound to go wrong.

[yeeterparkersblog]

Last Days | PART 2

Pairing: 6 Underground! Four/Billy x reader

Word Count: 5.9 k

Warnings: Stealing is bad, kids; Fat shaming, oops; drinking?; bleeding? Ohno!; baby boomers.

Summary: To everyone else, he was a suave young man in a gang of thieves, someone they would rather not get tangled up with. To you, he was a cheeky bastard who wouldn’t get out of your hair and most of all, a rival thief. But one day, Billy decides to reach out to you, proposing that you work together.

Publishing Date: 22 January 2020

A/N: Right. It’s been a month. I am sorry. Point is, school started and I hate Chemistry. I didn’t expect all the love that Last Days Part 1 has gotten. Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs and hella nice comments I’ve gotten. Thank you for being so patient. I have no idea when Part 3 will come out, but I will always try my best. You guys are the best, thank you so much, you have no idea how much my face lights up when you leave a sweet comment or you message me to tell me how much you liked the story. Anyway, here’s Part 2.

PART 1

((this is what reader wears to the gala. ALSO OSCARS BEN!!))

“Now remember the plan. Be confident.”

The BMW neared the country club, and even from the car, you could see how luxurious it was. Elegance was radiating off the pristine white walls. The topiaries were clean cut and even the grand fountain in the courtyard seemed to mock you.

“Yes I remember.” You shifted uncomfortably in the car seat, the nerves undoubtedly setting in. “We’ve gone over it a dozen times.” But it was easier said than done.

“It’s alright. The gala is an open event.” He glanced at you sideways, pulling into the main entrance. “But the snooty rich can smell peasants from miles away, so I’m going to need you to stop fidgeting.”

“Just act like you know you belong. They’ll feel too stupid to ask what you’re doing here.” He nudged his head towards the gate. “Steady, (Y/N). Security guards.”

You sat up in the seat, putting on the most snobbish face you could muster. You hear Billy quietly chuckle beside you.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” Billy whispered, his lips barely moving as he drove past the guards. He gave them a small nod, the kind that rich people would give to ‘simpletons’. The security guards didn’t give either of you a second glance and just proceeded to let the car in. As soon as you were out of their range, you resume your relaxed form almost immediately.

“Wow.” You chuckle. “Did it take you long to learn that nod?”

“Took me a while to get the amount of narcissism just right. But the whole ensemble is what ties it together.” He smiled. “Lavish clothes. Expensive car.  Trophy wife.”

“They really should get better security.” You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing. “The museums too. It’s like they want us to rob them. They’re practically begging for it.”

When you don’t hear a response from Billy, you turn to him, only to see a hint of a smile ghosting the corners of his lips. “Yes, they are.”

We were pulling up closer to the banquet hall. We could hear the slight chatter of the upper class and the hum from other luxury cars.

“One month of planning.” You take a deep inhale to attempt to soothe yourself. “Let’s see if it’s all worth it.”

“Eyes up. Stay sharp.”

As soon we reached the hall, two valet attendants rushed to our car, opening the car door for us. The attendant on my side offers his hand, and with my nose in the air, I take it and assume my role for the evening. He guides me to Billy’s side at the foot of the stairs, and almost instantly the other attendant sticks out his hand.

I mentally sigh. These people probably make more money in one evening than I do at Ritter’s in one year. Must be nice.

Meanwhile, Billy didn’t bat an eye. He gracefully took out 2 hundreds and placed them in both attendants’ hands. It was probably the last of his money, but he wasn’t fazed at all.

All to play the part, I guess. This heist better work.

The two attendants thanked him with a small smile, and the two of them strode off. One to park the BMW, one to find another rich customer.

“Right.” Billy clears his throat next to you and the two of you face the grand staircase that leads to the banquet hall. He holds up his arm.

“Ready, Charlotte Hallowell?”

You smile up at him, lacing your hand in his. “Why of course, Arthur Hargreaves.”

 ---

 “…and he left me the fortune in his will, including the company. My dear father, may he rest in peace.”

The two middle-aged women nodded solemnly, too intrigued in Billy’s sob story to notice your smile. You swirl the flute of champagne in one hand, the other still holding onto his. Billy’s thumb would occasionally swipe over yours, a reminder to play the part.

“Well I know you’ll do a brilliant job.” The brunette spoke first. “You must be devastated after your father’s passing though, Mr. Hargreaves.” Her words sounded sincere, but her face, probably from too many Botox treatments, failed to convey any emotion.

“Please, Dolores. Call me Arthur.” He smiled charmingly at the now blushing woman.

“Oh- Oh my.” You hear her let out a giggle. “Aren’t you delightful?”

An unsettling feeling suddenly made its home in your gut.

“So Arthur.” The second woman, Margaret, spoke next. “You and uh… Catherin-?”

“Charlotte.” You cut in. “It’s Charlotte.” A fake smile crept on your face. You took a steady breath to calm down.

“Fine. Charlotte.” She turned her attention back to ‘Arthur’. “So are you two dating? Married? I don’t see a ring.”

There it was again. That unsettling feeling rearing its ugly head. A visible frown made its way upon your face, and your hand instinctively gripped the champagne flute tighter. But of course the ladies didn’t notice, too fixated on what ‘Arthur’ was going to say next.

God, you really shouldn’t be letting this affect you. But the two women’s complete disregard of you was throwing you off your game. Or maybe it had something to with Billy? Nah, can’t be. You doubt rich housewives are his type.

So you kept quiet. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak sensibly if you were to open your mouth. Too much was at stake.

“Charlotte and I are married.” Billy suddenly blurted out, and you felt his hand squeeze yours tightly.

Shock was evident on you and the ladies’ faces, but you did a better job at hiding it. But this wasn’t the plan. The plan was Arthur and Charlotte were supposed to be just dating. You felt his thumb run over yours again – this time a comfort.

But no matter how taken aback the ladies were by the news, they still had more prodding to do.

“If you’re married,” Margaret interrogated first. “How come Charlotte isn’t a Hargreaves? I seem to recall her last name being something else.”

“That’s right. Her name is Hallowell.” Dolores continued. Good to see someone remembering your name. She suddenly turned to you. “Are you too proud of a woman to take your husband’s name?”

Oh wow. Okay, fuck you too.

Steam was practically exiting your nostrils. It took all of your will to hold yourself back from saying something that you’d regret. You took a sip of your champagne, all while maintaining Dolores’ piercing eye contact.

You felt Billy’s hand let go of yours, and protectively wrap around your shoulder instead.

“The Hargreaves may be a family of class, but so are the Hallowells.” Billy’s voice was controlled. “Charlotte isn’t too proud to take my name, she’s proud because she knows her worth.”

You grin to yourself. How nice of Billy to stick up for you, even if it was a cover story. But if Billy felt that this was okay… Oh well, a little wouldn’t hurt.

“See? I didn’t have to take my husband’s name to be somebody.” You gave the both of them a sickeningly sweet smile. “But you two wouldn’t know anything about that.”

The two women clasped their hands to their hearts in unison, and it would have been creepy how on beat it was if it hadn’t been so bloody hilarious! They gasped audibly, their form amusingly resembling that of Joffrey Baratheon when he had been poisoned.

You bit down on your lip to stop your grin from spreading any further. You were trying your best, but you could already feel Billy’s body shaking with silent laughter beside you.

It was only now you’d realize how close you two were. His body was pressed against yours, and his laughing had sent jolts of electricity down your spine. Your shoulder, where he still has his hand on felt warm with his touch.

“WELL I NEVER!” Margaret suddenly burst out, and you force yourself to swallow your oncoming fits of giggles. “You millennials are just so rude! How-!”

“Come. Margaret.” Dolores interrupted before she could go into a full rant. “We know when we’re not wanted.” The both of them stuck their noses in the air and shoved their way through you and Billy, separating you two.

The spot on your shoulder felt excruciatingly exposed.

“I don’t think they know when they’re not wanted.” Billy scoffed at the ladies who were making their exit hastily. He smoothed down his white suit. “Or they wouldn’t have come to the gala at all.”

You let out a hearty laugh, the first real one ever since your arrival here.

“I think they’re just intimidated, (Y/N).” His voice dropped to the lowest whisper at your name. “Their husbands would take one look at you and drop them the very next second just to get a chance with you.”

You chuckle quietly, a pink hue tinged your cheeks. “Aren’t you a charmer?”

“Of course. Why else did the women approach me?” He stood up just a little bit straighter. “Maybe they would have backed off if they knew I had you as my gorgeous wife.”

You shoved him playfully. “Piss off.”

But you didn’t fail to notice how your heart had sped up with his words.

“But I don’t think it was a complete waste of time.” You continued.

“How so?”

“Dolores strikes me as a person who’d love attention. I mean, did you see the pearl necklace around her neck?” You were received with a small smirk of his. “Would be a shame if she lost it.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The clinging of a fork on a champagne glass brought you and Billy out of your hushed discussion. A silence went over the crowd as all heads turned towards the man.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re so very delighted to have you all here tonight. But you’re not here to listen to me talk, you’re here for my newest addition in the collection, of course!”

Resounding applause came from the crowd, who were now anxious to see the necklace. Many of them were tiptoeing and tilting their heads, trying to get a better view of the covered case at the front.

“Forget everything else that the committee has to offer. All the other gems that you’ve all seen in the country club’s jewelry room? That’s absolutely nothing!” The man boasted loudly, and the crowd was egging him on. Billy’s demeanor shifted to that of concentration, his body suddenly rigid. But you barely noticed, you too were caught up in the man’s boast.

“This is the most beautiful and priceless artifact I have ever set eyes on. That’s why I am honored to present to you…” He took a step back next to the case with a flourish, whipping off the black cloth in a second.

“The Ruza!!”

Oh, it was beautiful. It was glittering gold and as bright as the sun. The small gems on the necklace made for intricate patterns on the design. It was big, but not so bulky that it felt like too much. 5 million pounds. Not too shabby.

But of course, you weren’t the only one who thought so. Oohs and aahs from the crowd were taken in by the presenter with pride. He had more words to say, more facts to gloat about, but you’ve heard enough.

“Billy!” You whisper-shout at him. “The Ruza. We gotta put the plan in action now.”

He didn’t say anything back, he looked too deep in thought. His brilliant eyes darting back and forth between you and the gold necklace.

“Billy?” You waved your hands in front of his eyes. “You should get ready. I’ll go get Dolores’ pearl ne-”

“(Y/N), I don’t think we should steal the Ruza.”

His words took you by surprise, and a stunned silence was your first response.

“What!” You took a deep inhale to calm yourself down. “Billy, please don’t tell me y-”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He cut in. “Like I said before, there are always certain risks involved in this job. But my new plan will significantly decrease those risks.”

You pursed your lips in uncertainty. “Billy…”

“Trust me, please.” He scratched the back of his neck. “(Y/N).”

You bit down on your lip. “I trust you.” A small smile creased his lips. “Let me hear it.”

 ---

 “This must be worth at least 50 million.” You managed to breathe out.

The sight before you was one to behold. Twinkling and shimmering in their individual cases, more than thirty types of jewelry. Diamond necklaces, ruby rings and Swarovski crystal earrings. SO! MUCH! MORE!

“Billy, this could set us up for life!” you gasped. You were shaking with anticipation, looking around like a little kid at the toy store.

“We’re only taking one.”

Your smile dropped. “Of course we are.”

“Question is, which one.”

He walked around the jewelry room, examining each case and the treasure inside. He took his time. There wasn’t a single person in or near the room besides the two of you. Security guards were either posted at the front gates or in the banquet hall where the gala was.

“(Y/N), do you know why we’re taking one of these and not the Ruza?”

Your memory went back to when Billy stiffened up during the Ruza’s reveal.

“Forget everything else that the committee has to offer. All the other gems that you’ve all seen in the country club’s jewelry room? That’s absolutely nothing!” The presenter had said.

Billy saw the glint of recollection in your eyes. “They don’t care. They really should know better.” He did a double take at a gold bracelet, and kept on walking. “All the attention’s on the Ruza now. But I bet someday, it’s going to be replaced just like these.”

“Well, which one of these is going to get a new home?”

“Even though they don’t get a lot of attention anymore, somebody’s gonna notice if we steal an important one.” He shook his head at a large assortment of gems on main display. “We’re choosing something that people won’t miss.”

You made your way to the corner of the room, where the display lights weren’t as bright, where the display cases weren’t clean. A sapphire tiara caught your eye. You ran your finger along the glass case, leaving a clearer line.

“A tad dusty.” You observed. “Probably hasn’t had any love since its revealing.”

He strode over next to you, and observed the case. “’S nice.” He circled the case, looking around for any security measures. “Do you see anything to look out for?”

“The pedestal looks different from the newer ones.” You remarked. The displays at the front had a shiny gloss, the glass looked too thick to even cut, and clean as a whistle. Meanwhile the tiara’s pedestal was older, dusty. It looked like no one even bothered to upgrade it since its installment.

Billy took a few more seconds to deduct it.

“I think this is it.” Billy said. “2, or maybe 3 million?”

“The Ruza was 5.”

“The Ruza has 200 sets of eyes on it right now. This one doesn’t.”

You smacked your lips. “Suppose 1.5 million is better than prison.” Your mind went back to the original plan. “Do I still get to steal off Dolores?”

He sniggered at your question. “Right now I just need you to make sure no one comes in here. That, and delete the security footage.” He pointed up at the corner of the room, the red blinking light of a security camera staring back. “So no, you don’t get to steal off Dolores.” You frown in disappointment.

Heavy footsteps suddenly neared the jewelry room. A guard! Billy caught your look of distress.

“But you get to do Plan B.”

And your frown was replaced with an excited grin.

 ---

 “Hey, please!” You run up to the security guard, the click-clacking of your heels echoing in the hallway. You fan yourself, taking shaky breaths as you approach him. “You’ve got to help me!”

“Ma’am, what’s wrong?” He asked, watching you as you wiped away a tear, a trail of mascara streaking down your cheek.

“My earring. It’s missing!” You pointed at your left ear, which was without an emerald stud. “I don’t know where it’s gone. You must help me! Please, please.” You let out another sniffle and sob, adding onto the act.

“Oh uh…” He looked nervous, he didn’t know how to comfort a hysterically wailing woman, losing her mind over a missing earring. “Does anyone else know ab-”

“NO! You mustn’t tell either!” You dabbed away your nervous tears. “You mustn’t tell my husband. He’d be livid!”

“Where’s your h-”

“The banquet hall!” You spat out a little too quickly. “But I don’t dare go in there. Arthur will see its missing! And then… ” You wail loudly, your hands covering your face to muffle it. The security guard looked around uncomfortably, finally settling on awkwardly patting you on the back.

Needless to say, ‘Arthur’ or Billy wasn’t in the banquet hall. Duh. He’s getting his hand on the tiara. And the security guard had been walking too close to the jewelry room. Plan B was that you’d kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of the guard, and delete the footage. And so you had stuffed your left earring in your bra as Billy watched in amusement, and ran out the room in inconsolable tears.

“Maybe it’s in your purse?”

“Don’t be daft!” You shoved your open purse in his face. “I’ve checked!” And that was why you had to, unfortunately, stick the earring down your bra.

“Oh!” You shot up, wiping away another crocodile’s tear. “The cameras! Perhaps you could see where the earring has went!”

“I doubt the cameras can-”

You cut him off with another loud dramatic weep, and a fat tear rolled down your cheek theatrically. “Arthur will never let me hear the end of it. This is all YOUR FAULT!!! The committee will be hearing about this!”

That did it. The guard silently sighed and with a final roll of his eyes, he plastered on a fake smile. “Alright we’ll go check the footage. Please follow me.”

 ---

 Either you played ‘damsel-in-distress’ too well, or the guard was dumber than he let on. He had left you alone in the surveillance room.

The moment you two had entered the room, you cried out for a drink. And the guard, not wanting another tantrum from you, obliged immediately without giving it a second thought. That, or he wanted to get away from your whining.

Again, there was no one else in the room but you. There was a lock system at the door, where you needed an authorization card to get in. Security was probably confident that no one could enter.

You executed the plan immediately. Your fingers danced across the control panel, pulling up the current feed from the jewelry room.

Billy was looking at you, well the camera. You couldn’t help the grin pulling at your lips. He waved up at the camera, knowing that you had probably made it to the surveillance room already.

“Hey there.” You said back, fully knowing that he couldn’t hear you.

You took one last look at his smiling figure before disabling the camera and security measures in the jewelry room. And when Billy saw the red blinking light on the camera go off, he got to work.

For good measure, you deleted the footage that placed the two of you at the scene of the crime. Footage in the hallway which you and Billy had to pass to get to the jewelry room. Footage when the two of you were inspecting the displays. Footage when you ran up to the guard. And of course, footage inside the surveillance room.

You were sure to replace the missing footage with stills, as to make it look like it hasn’t been tampered with.

And... Done!

You took a breath of relief, leaning back into a chair.

“I’ve done my part, Billy. Now it’s all up to you.”

 ---

 After chastising the poor security guard for not finding your tiny earring on the cameras, you left with a huff and headed for the banquet hall. If things went off without a hitch, Billy would be right there waiting for you.

But he wasn’t. Though you were sure he wasn’t caught or anything.

No alarms had gone off. No security guards have ran to the jewelry room. No blond man had been tased and handcuffed. That was enough to reassure you. For now.

You head towards the hor d’oevres table anxiously, stuffing down a bruschetta in an attempt to calm yourself. You took a quick once-over of the large room, but there was no sign of him still.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn around rather excitedly, expecting to see Billy. Instead, you were met with the cold and calculating eyes of Dolores. Your shoulders drooped with disappointment, but you plastered on a smile nonetheless.

“Charlotte.” She smacked her thin lips. “Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s g-”

“Oh dear, has he gotten sick of you already?”

A sly smile accompanied the nasty remark. You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from throwing all of the curse words in existence at her.

“But not to worry. A pretty thing like you.” She stared you down head to toe, tutting. “But I think if you scarf down another bruschetta, I’m afraid that dress of yours won’t be able to contain anymore.”

OH! You fumed quietly, purposely taking another hor d’oevre from the tray with a flourish.

“I don’t appreciate your passive aggression, Dolor-”

“Why I’m just stating facts now, dear. No need to get upset.”

A silent stare-down ensued. Dolores, judgy and critical; you, silent and furious.

“If I may ask Dolores,” You start. “How much money does your husband’s company rake in per year?”

She suddenly threw her head back in shrill laughter, as if you had said the funniest joke she’s ever heard. “My dear, if you’re comparing that, I’m afraid you’ve already lost.”

You scoffed. “Humor me.”

She tossed her curls back with pride. “At least a billion a year.” She boasted with a conceited smile on her face. “Why do you ask?”

You mirrored her smile. “Then you’re living proof that all the money in the world can’t buy you class.”

You took a big bite of another piece of bruschetta in front of her, savoring the taste. The offended look on her face added a satisfactory zest to your bite. The red on her cheeks resembled that of the cherry tomatoes on your snack.

While Dolores struggled to form words, you noticed Billy enter the banquet hall. He was fidgeting with his suit jacket, arm placed strategically over the outside of his pocket.

He caught your eye, and nudged discreetly at his pocket, then the hallway.

Dolores suddenly grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to look back at her. “This is extremely disrespectful. You’ll regret messing with me and my name. My husband will be hearing about this.”

“I don’t even know your last name.” You dusted off the crumbs. “Is it Malfoy?”

“But I know yours, Charlotte Hallowell. And I’m asking you to leave.”

You laugh. “Gladly. Oh and, remember that name.” You brushed past her towards Billy. “The woman you chastised for being in a happy marriage.”

“Watch it, Hallowell.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at her over your shoulder. “I’m just stating facts now, Dolores dear. No need to get upset.”

And with a final grin, you strut off to Billy, much to the fury of Dolores. You were greeted by his curious smile.

“What was all that? She looks like she’s about to explode.” He offers you his free arm.

“Just teaching someone a lesson.” You laced your hand in his. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you get it?”

He nodded, fingers tapping on his pocket. There was a barely noticeable bump, but it was scattered, definitely didn’t take the form of a tiara. You questioned that.

“Had to break it into smaller parts. More discreet.”

You nodded. Makes sense, all you needed were the gems on the tiara. It didn’t matter if it was whole or not.

“But it was a lot stiffer than I thought.” He subtly turned over the hand covering his pocket. A napkin was bundled in his hand, it was stained red. He discreetly moved it to the side, revealing a gash on the inside of his palm. There were wisps of dried blood around it, hastily wiped. The gash looked red and angry.

“Dear God, Billy!” You whisper-shouted at him, suddenly stopping in your tracks to rummage through your purse. “Let me ge-”

“Not now. Not here. Keep walking.” With his voice hushed, he turned his hand over like nothing ever happened. His arm tugged on yours to keep walking.

“You’re b-”

“Later.” He insisted. “The sooner we leave the better.”

You didn’t argue with that. The two of you left the banquet hall, fortunately, without a problem. And it was at the valet, waiting for the car, where you realized the two of you didn’t plan for what happens after the heist.

Perhaps you may work together again. Or maybe you’ll take your share of the money, and part ways.

Your heart, unbeknownst to you, ached at the possibility that this might be the end. And so your grip on his forearm tightened.

 ---

 It wasn’t until after Billy had drove the car out onto the main road, that you two could let out a huge breath of relief. You immediately hunch down into a more comfortable position, kneading your back which was sore from standing up as straight as a plank the entire night.

“Wow.” You sigh. “You know I actually anticipated a lot more Mission Impossible out of this.”

“I only wish my other heists have gone this smoothly.” Billy removed his injured hand carefully from the wheel, leaving a small stain there. “Do we have any ointment or bandages in the kit?”

“Hold on.” You pulled out a small box from the back seat, looking through it. “Bandages yes. Ointment no.”

“That’ll do for now.” He sticks out his hand to you, but with his eyes still focusing on the road. “If you don’t mind…?”

“You’re going to need to disinfect it.” Your fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, guiding it into the light. “God knows how long the tiara’s been polished.”

“You said there’s no ointment.”

“There’s a convenience store not so far away. We’ll go there.”

“In these clothes?”

“We’ll be quick.”

“Fine.” He took a quick glance at you examining his palm. “But can you wrap up the cut? Bandage it or something. At least to stop it from bleeding out.”

You nodded, returning your focus to his wound.

Up close right underneath the dim light in the car, you could see how rough and calloused his hand was. The concealer on his knuckles, just slightly wearing off to reveal the tattoos underneath. Tiny scars dotted along his thick fingers, from scrambling up too rough of walls or ledges. They left small white dashes that were barely visible.

“(Y/N), if you could just stop my bleeding instead of caressing my fingers, that would be gr-”

“Eyes on the road, tosser.”

 ---

 You had just finished up bandaging his hand when he pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. You were careful to not slam the car door shut on your silk gown. Billy watched, entertained, as you lifted up your dress to walk, like a proper princess.

“Don’t laugh.” You bunched up the bottom of the dress, kicking off some material with your heels. “You wouldn’t want to get this dress dirty if you knew how much it was.”

“I paid for it.”

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go to a convenience store dressed like you were going to the Oscars. Two people smoking outside the door gave you and Billy some funny looks. You avoided their curious stares while continuing to struggle with you dress.

“(Y/N), this is hard to watch.”

Billy started to crouch down behind you, collecting the flowy material in his larger than yours hands. He ignored the stings in his palm and lifted it up like a cape, or like a really long bridal veil.

“Hurry on in.” He stood up. “Floor inside is definitely cleaner than tarmac.”

You blinked at him with large eyes. You quickly whip your head to the direction of the store, hiding the tinge on your cheeks that just barely showed up. Shrugging it off, you nodded your head in response.

“Right.”

You headed towards the store, walking slow enough so that Billy could keep your pace steadily. As soon as you stepped in, the lone cashier slightly widened his eyes at you and Billy’s fancy get up, but didn’t say anything else. ‘Beat It’ by Michael Jackson blasted through the speakers.

“Is the floor okay?”

His voice was right beside your ear, his hot breath fanning your cheek. His deep voice a sudden contrast with the loud music. You instinctively bit down on your lip in response.

“Yeah, you can put it down.”

He carefully let down your dress, bending down to smooth out any wrinkles that have formed. You smiled at this, heart fluttering.

“Thank you.” You suddenly whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“’S nothing. No need to be so grateful.” He laughed, brushing it off. “You look great!”

If he had just stayed one more second before leaving abruptly to get the ointment, he would’ve noticed your face fall with disappointment. You had so much more to say to him.

But you digress. There was a time and place for everything. And the doorway of a 24-hour store while a cashier looked on from behind a comic book was neither.

While he looked over the variety of medications on the shelves, you chose to browse through the refrigerated beverage section.

Deep green bottles catch your eye. Bottles of beer stored neatly in the fridge, the same one that you had served Billy months ago.

-

“Okay alright.” He pursed his lips and gave you a twenty. “I’ll buy a beer. But I want to talk to you, alright? It’s about the ring.”

You glared daggers at him, trying to see if he was just playing if you. Maybe he’s finally come to his senses and has decided to give you ring.

“Fine.” You said. “Hold on.”

You came back with a warm bottle of beer and sat down, pocketing the change. It was the least he could do for you. You shoved the bottle towards him. “Well?”

He shot you a look before he started talking. “Look I’m very sorry to have left you behind like that. I’m glad you got out fine, yeah?”

“Good, thanks.” You mumbled. It was nice, but not quite what you wanted to hear. “So I’ll be taking the ring now.”

“W-What? No?!” Billy looked almost baffled. “I already pawned it off! Where do you think the money for this disgustingly warm beer came from? And the ring is rightfully mine, by the way.”

 -

A/N: I use the word ‘ointment’ a lot, I’m sorry. I hate it too. It sounds too much like ‘moist’. I can’t, for the love of baby yoda, think of a more suitable word. Also I’m thinking the beer bottles as Heineken because it suits the mood board I made and its green like Ben’s eyessss, but this is not sponsored obviously, I just like the green. Also Billy in the store, is inspired by Ben Hardy at 7-11 after the Oscars so just imagine that :3. Alright, back to the story. yeet~

-

 A light bulb went off atop your head- an idea. You grabbed two cold bottles straight from the fridge, and trudge towards the cashier counter, where Billy was already paying for a bottle of ointment. ((im so sorry lol))

The two bottles thudded against the counter and you looked up at Billy expectantly.

“What?”

“As a small celebration!” You nudged the bottled closer. “It’s just one bottle each. I’ll even pay you back if you want me to.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no need.” Billy remarked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The confused cashier looked back and forth between the two of you. “You’ve had quite a bit of champagne already tonight.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” You push the bottles in front of the cashier and looked at him instead. “We’ll buy these.”

 ---

 “What are the beers for, really?” He asked, both of you getting in the car.

“Fine, an apology. For the crappy warm beer I gave you a few months back.” You admitted. “It’s an apology.”

“It’s not really if I’m paying for them.”

You shoved him playfully in his seat. “Then it’s a thanks.”

“A thanks?”

“I meant what I said inside the store, Billy. Thank you so much.” You put heavy emphasis on the ‘so’. You had on a sincere face, trying your best to express your genuine gratitude for all that he’s done for you. But you were still met with his puzzled stare.

“It’s just a dress, (Y/N)” He laughed. “I mean it’s expensive but it’s j-”

“NO! I mean…” You trailed off, taking a few seconds to think of what to say. Billy looked questioningly at you the whole time.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname he’d decided to call you.

“Okay can we find somewhere we could talk? Have a drink?” You pointed at the two bottles in the cup holders. “A car isn’t going to cut it.”

His lips creased with a soft smile. “I tell you what.” He put the bottle of ointment ((sigh)) into your hands. “Fix up the cut for me, and I know exactly where we can go.”

No words were spoken on the way there. The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Only the occasional hiss of pain from Billy or a check-in from you temporarily broke the silence while you cleaned and re-bandaged his wound.

“It’s alright.” You said quietly, finishing up the job with medical tape. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now, thanks to you.” Billy smiled at you warmly, and you knew he meant it with every word. Your smile followed his, only bigger.

The car had stopped and Billy got out before you. You didn’t know where you were, or at least you weren’t familiar with this area. But you weren’t complaining.

It was gorgeous up here. Yes, up.

You two were on a sort of hill, overlooking the city. No buildings or other people around, not bustling with the sound of traffic and loud chatter. You and Billy were probably the only people within the mile radius. It was quiet. And peaceful.

The closest light source was from a solitary streetlight a few feet away.

Billy was sat on a nearby bench. He patted on the seat next to him, brandishing the two bottles of beer you had bought earlier. You gladly accepted, making yourself comfortable.

Even in the darkness you could see the outline of his sharp features, see how handsome he was. The distant city lights reflected in his emerald orbs, and his plump lips curved in a small smile as he handed you your bottle.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked.

---

A/N: Yes basically thats the end of part 2. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE like, reblog or tell me what you think. IT MEANS SO MUCH! it would make my whole day. I can’t promise you when 3 is coming out, but i’m trying oml.

Tags:

 @pippin248 @takemetoneverland420 @queenlover05 @sjeunhaelover

[slashhinginghasher]

Social Engagement for Misanthropes: Jesse Cromeans x Marena Polunochnaya

Jesse Cromeans cleaned up nice, and he damn well knew it. It was one of the first skills he’d cultivated after leaving his shithole hometown. One of the best ways to get money, he’d found, was to look like you already had it. The looks he got from women (and some men) were a welcome (some would say unnecessary) boost to his ego, and a sharp suit could always be counted on to draw the piggies out of their pens. The first few times he’d worn designer had felt strange, like a kid playing make-believe, though after a while it became as natural as breathing.

Now, as he stood in front of the mirror in his walk-in closet and fiddled with a tie he hadn’t touched in over three years, he felt a bit like that broke, backwater kid again.

He didn’t particularly want to attend this event, but it was, unfortunately, somewhat necessary. Spann had called it “proof of life” when she handed him the invitation, an actual, physical piece of paper that had been calligraphed and embossed within an inch of its life. It contained phrases like “humble gathering” and “the pleasure of your company” and had, apparently, been mailed with an honest-to-god wax seal.

Pretentious prick.

Jesse had been to his fair share of “humble gatherings”; you couldn’t conduct real business without them. They were mind-crushingly boring affairs, a slow-moving social dance of caviar, expensive booze, and pathetic attempts at wit. If nothing else, the people-watching was usually interesting. For all their “good breeding”, wealthy families could be far more dysfunctional than the most slovenly of small town homes. Upper class socialites didn’t blink at multi-million dollar checks, but flash a bit of ink and they’d fall over themselves to choke on his cock while their husbands talked golf in the next room. He’d even picked up a piggy or two at a few events, though you had to be extra careful with that (chain of association and all).

But he hadn’t shown his face in public since it had been ripped off and reattached, and some of his business contacts were getting suspicious. Spann’s iron-clad assurances were no longer enough to quell the rumors that Jesse Cromeans had died, or been deposed, and that someone else was running the company under his name. And that just would not do. He’d RSVP’d immediately, memories of Preston’s failed takeover flushing his system with old rage.

At least he’d be guaranteed some interesting company tonight, he thought, smirking at the garment bag draped over the stool next to him as he tapped out a quick text.

💀🖕: COME UPSTAIRS, I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU

Macarena: IF IT’S YOUR DICK I DON’T WANT IT

Jesse chuckled and went back to his tie, certain that either Marena’s curiosity or the urge to insult him to his face would bring her up shortly. He knew bow ties were traditional for black tie events, but wearing a fucking bow around his neck was a concession he’d never been able to force himself to make. Besides, he had a reputation for being… unconventional, and reputation was everything. Satisfied with the crisp Windsor knot, he shrugged on his black waistcoat, secretly pleased with the way it showed off the breadth of his chest.

“You look like a goth pirate,” came Marena’s voice from the doorway. “What the fuck.” As usual, he hadn’t heard her approach. She was the only person he knew who could sneak up on him, which was fun. Made things exciting.

“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘black tie’ before?” Jesse signed with a grin.

“Call me surprised then. Are we done?” In lieu of a verbal response, Jesse tossed the garment bag at her. Marena unzipped it enough to peek inside, then immediately re-zipped it.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nyet.”

“Can’t go to a gala wearing that,” Jesse replied, looking pointedly at her worn t-shirt and jeans. Marena threw the garment bag back and crossed her arms.

“How sad. Guess I won’t go.”

“Sure you will. I can think of a few things to make it fun.”

“So can I. Like not going.”

“Not an option.” Jesse was struggling to smother his laughter. The stubborn furrow of Marena’s brow was too cute to keep a straight face around.

“Why are you going?”

“Business.”

“And that has what to do with me?”

“You’re my plus one, little wench.” Marena visibly cringed.

“If we’re being pirates, I want a fucking sword. And I don’t mean your dick,” she snapped, cutting him off before he could sign a single word. Jesse’s shoulders shook with a full-body laugh, composure completely shot. He cupped Marena’s face in both hands and kissed her forehead, which he knew she hated, before pressing the garment bag into her hands once more.

“Try to look a little less like a corpse,” he advised, stepping around her to grab his dinner jacket. A litany of Russian curses followed him.

***

Marena’s concession to not resembling a corpse was a violently red lipstick that made it look like she’d been eating human hearts for every meal, which Jesse immediately wanted to smear across her face. The dress was black, of course, with a high collar and long sleeves. It would have covered her neck to toe had she not hiked one side of the skirt nearly up to her hip while she slipped a set of throwing knives into the holster around her slender thigh.

She made a compelling argument for ditching, Jesse thought, feeling a familiar tightening in his slacks. He couldn’t resist smoothing a hand along her exposed leg, fingers coming to rest just shy of her underwear.

“Once this dress comes off, it’s not going back on,” she warned.

“Noted and appreciated. You still have to come to this party.”

“Fuck.”

“Later.” 

Marena said nothing, just glared at him through her curtain of hair - which she had brushed just enough that the messiness looked intentional - and let her skirts fall back down to her ankles. Jesse quickly ushered her out of the room before he could do something ingenious like cancelling all of his commitments for the next month and spending the entire time in bed.

The ride in the Bentley was tense and silent. A sick pit of nerves was brewing in Jesse’s stomach, all too similar to the way his boyhood self felt on the way to school, and that was ten kinds of bullshit. He was a grown man. He was motherfucking Chromeskull. He should not be feeling like a little kid about to face a playground bully. But he was finding it very difficult to push the feeling away. His face looked a damn sight better than it did several years ago, but it would never go back to the way it was before, and he was about to walk into a room full of people who treated a minute blemish like a national scandal. He wanted his mask. He wanted to say fuck it and just keep driving until he hit someplace tropical. He wanted to kill something, to drown his insecurities in blood and adrenaline.

He half-wished he’d flown Asa out to rig the whole venue beforehand in case things went south.

Beside him, Marena was deathly still, one white-knuckled fist gripping the fabric of her skirt. She looked a million miles away, lost in whatever personal hell her own brain was conjuring for her. Jesse reached over and squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. It was his version of a concession; a silent expression of gratitude. The fact that Marena didn’t push his hand away was a testament to how anxious she was.

“I still want a sword,” she grumbled. Jesse smiled and chucked her under the chin, which she also hated, and felt the knot in his chest loosen a bit.

***

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. People stared, of course, but they were too “polite” (which was money-speak for “two-faced”) to say anything to his face. There were far more eyes on Marena, which Jesse both loved and loathed. The women’s jealous eyes tracked her every move like sharks scenting new prey, which was admittedly hilarious to watch; but the barely-concealed desire on the men’s faces sent prickles of possessiveness down Jesse’s spine. He kept his hand glued to Marena’s lower back, low enough to skirt the line of what their current company would consider decent.

If there was one thing the rich understood, it was possession.

“Cromeans!” the host bellowed, arms spread like they were old friends. “Still alive and in the flesh, I see! Some of the lads were getting worried!” A few of the “lads” murmured noises of agreement while the host gave Jesse an overly enthusiastic handshake. Jesse could feel their gazes catching on the eyepatch and the new curl of his lip, and he almost wished one of them would say something, just to give him an excuse to lash out. But the host’s attention wandered over to Marena, whom he foolishly deemed to be a safer topic of discussion.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” he asked, ignoring the sinful glances his wife was casting Jesse’s way.

“No one of consequence,” Marena replied sweetly with a tight, close-lipped smile. The man tipped his head back and guffawed, trying not to wither under the combined weight of Jesse and Marena’s unimpressed stares. He forged ahead anyway.

“You always did have a penchant for… unusual company, Cromeans, I’ll give you that. Tell you what,” he rubbed his hands together eagerly, “I’ve got a bottle of Lagavulin with your name on it in the gentlemen’s lounge. I’m sure Genevieve here can handle your lovely companion for a bit while we talk business.” He beamed benevolently at his wife, who looked as though she’d rather eat glass.

“Of course, dear,” she said, pasting a megawatt smile on her botoxed face. “It’s such a treat to see a new face around here. I’m sure the other girls would love to meet you.” She swept away towards a group of tittering young women draped in diamonds and pearls, Marena following with the stiff spine of a person walking to their execution. Jesse felt much the same way as “the lads” filed into the oak-paneled gentlemen’s lounge.

“Business” was code for the same inane bullshit being discussed in the ballroom, with the addition of whiskey, cigars, and complaints about wives and mistresses. These conversations were usually a goldmine for Jesse. As a mute, he was rarely expected to be an active participant, and the number of weaknesses people revealed when they assumed they were surrounded by allies was astounding. Tonight, though, he was twitchy and bored, distracted by thoughts of Marena stabbing one of those debutante brats through the eye with the stem of a champagne glass. As if on cue, his phone vibrated.

Macarena: I’M GOING TO KILL EVERYONE IN THIS BUILDING

💀🖕: DON’T START WITHOUT ME

Macarena: IT’S CUTE THAT YOU THINK I WON’T TAKE YOU OUT FIRST

💀🖕: AWW YOU THINK I’M CUTE?

Macarena: I WILL RIP YOUR SPINE OUT AND BEAT YOU WITH IT

💀🖕: DON’T TEMPT ME WITH A GOOD TIME BABY ;)

Macarena: THIS FUCKER KEEPS TRYING TO GET ME TO DANCE

Macarena: CAN I KNEECAP HIM

Macarena: I’M GONNA KNEECAP HIM

The little bastard’s kneecaps were spared when a staff member scuttled into the lounge to inform the host of some dire emergency, effectively breaking up the little gathering. Jesse strolled back into the ballroom and spotted Marena at a table near the exit, cornered by a little bitch with slicked-back hair and a greasy smile. The waves of irritation coming off of the girl were palpable and her smile obviously fake, and Jesse couldn’t decide if the guy was too stupid to notice, or was ignoring it because he had that effect on every woman he spoke to.

“Come on, baby,” he goaded, and Jesse could have broken his neck just for that, “it’s just one dance. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

Marena’s smile froze on her face, and Jesse could practically hear the Kill Bill sirens going off in her head. The barb would’ve worked on any other woman in the room - horror of high society horrors, to be considered ill-mannered! - but for people of Marena and Jesse’s backgrounds, it hit much harder and much deeper.

“No,” she said, rising slowly and deliberately from her seat. “She didn’t.” She turned on her heel, leaving the idiot to gape at the failure of his clumsy manipulation tactics. Jesse grabbed her elbow and she passed and made a beeline for the exit. Not that he didn’t relish the prospect of a bloodbath, but initiating one right now would make future business dealings… complicated.

He memorized the fucker’s face on their way out, though.

***

Marena spent the next few days in a well-deserved sulk, resulting in the destruction of two punching bags and a serious case of blue balls for Jesse. He’d really been looking forward to ripping that dress off of her, damn it. He distracted himself with work and few more personal arrangements. At the end of the week, he tracked her down on the rooftop deck.

“Say your piece and fuck off,” she growled as he stood silently next to her chaise lounge, hands behind his back. She sounded exhausted and looked as though she hadn’t slept in at least two days. Affecting an air of mock seriousness, Jesse moved in front of her and bowed, offering her conciliatory gift on open palms.

“You did not.”

The shashka’s scabbard was a deep midnight blue, with subtle patterns of tree branches embossed in the fine leather. The hilt was smooth, black horn. The blade gleamed in the afternoon light as Marena unsheathed it with a fluid schnick.

“You are the absolute worst fucking person in the world,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching dangerously close to a smile. A glint of wicked delight sparkled in her eyes as she gave the sabre a few experimental twirls and slashes.

“Only for you, baby,” Jesse replied with a cheeky grin. “Want to test it out?”

***

All it took was a pair of handcuffs and a dark warehouse to really bring out the bitch in some people. The asshole from the party (Jesse really needed to come up with a term for male piggies if this was going to be a recurring thing) had been tied up for barely a day and he was already a sniveling mess. Jesse, on the other hand, was in a great mood. He had his mask, his camcorder, and his favorite knife, and judging by the way Marena was practically purring as she traced her fingers around the shashka’s hilt, he was for sure getting laid tonight. 

The rich bitch didn’t recognize Jesse with his face covered, but his eyes went wide and he started screaming obscenities into his gag when Marena stepped under the light. She yanked the fabric out of his mouth.

“You fucking cunt! You’ll fucking regret this! Do you know who I am? Do you-” All the blood drained from his face when Marena drew the sword and held it to his throat in a lightning-fast move. He swallowed hard, the tip digging in just below his Adam’s apple and drawing a bead of blood. She really was a natural with that thing, Jesse thought as he circled the tableau with his camera. It was hot as fuck.

“Hi,” Marena said.

The man sweated in silence.

“I wanted to go back to our conversation a few nights ago,” she continued. “About my mother.” She let the sword drop to her side and the man relaxed fractionally.

“See, she did not teach me manners, but she did teach me a lot of other things.” She pushed the gag back into place and patted him a couple times on his quivering, tear-soaked cheek. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a black butterfly knife.

“Lesson one: bleeding.”

[escapekissed]

Lucky do you have any favorite pieces of media from the psychological horror genre? Feels like its a genre that matches ur interests very well 👉🏽👈🏽

there are a couple that really speak to me!

first is rule of rose, which is a game that is incredibly formative to me. in a time where i was looking for representation as a young gay person and REALLY into looking up wiki pages for horror games, rule of rose showed me the symbolic trauma of puberty and toxic ‘love’ between girl children and the violence of patriarchal figures that i was looking for. it showed such cruelty but also such strength in its main character, and the symbolism? exquisite.... it also just has such a creepy atmosphere and the fact that the game is near impossible to play along with its shitty graphics for the enemies makes it so. peculiar and creepy in a very special way to me.

catherine is another atlus game near and dear to my heart, tho i dont  think i’m ever going to be playing full body for that exact reason. it’s a game basically about eugenics and misogyny, about gods&devils thinking of women as only reproductive objects and the men in their lives that ‘waste their reproductive time’ being tortured and killed for it, taking away a woman’s choice. i always thought it would be so interesting to do trans and lesbian takes on this game, and i have never really? stopped thinking about how this game is so thrilling in its themes of entitlement and stopping people’s freedom to love as they wish. this is also one of the only horror games in which the ‘human element’ actually interests me. so many horror games give u terrible people and i dont give a FUCK ABOUT THEM. but the way this game shows u just snippets of his life as a ‘break’ from the excruciatingly scary (to me, because time limits scare me LOL), stressful as hell puzzles. and u get to figure out the mystery of what is going on in people who would otherwise be boring to you, but in this game are shrouded in just enough mystery that ur actually interested in their boring day-to-day lives. its so satisfying just to drink with ur buds. its like really great gameplay to me tbh. i also just love katherine and catherine and they frusturate me so much and that’s exactly what they’re supposed to do which i LOVE. extremely effective atmosphere setting and worldbuilding, basically.

the lighthouse is my favorite horror movie tbh because it does suspense so well. the movie is literally themed around suspense, the suspense of not getting sexual satisfaction to completion, of being touch starved and lonely and repressed, of being able to hold ur boss but never kiss him, of being fed lobster but it tastes flavorless and bland and u can smell ur boss’s farts the whole time while he prattles on with disturbing sailor’s tales and barks out orders until he’s lulled into his drink. i honestly love this movie. and the acting is brilliant and unhinged

there’s a few indie games i really like that have been either formative to me or i just??? really like their vibe and i can basically tell from them i would like every game in the ‘genre.’

pocket mirror to me is like, this beautiful game about your own inner toxicity and escaping from yourself. i love indie 64-bit games like this, the background art is so beautiful, and while i’ve never played all the way through it because it scares me too much---i love ib and all the games in the ‘ib’ genre LOL.

doki doki literature club i know is a very strange game to like, but i enjoy it for letting the women be actual characters with their own thoughts and feelings. the pychological horror movie ‘i’m thinking of ending things’ is the exact opposite of this game.'i’m thinking of ending things’ is a backwards approach to feminist horror in my opinion. it’s from a male’s perspective of his hallucinations of a girl that once didn’t give him a second glance and his violence towards her in these fantasies. it takes itself painfully seriously. it pretends to deconstruct something that the director helped soldify (the manic pixie dream girl trope) in the public eye. doki doki literature club on the other hand, the passive character who ‘things happen to’ is the man. the active roles all go to the women in the game and what they do to themselves in order to be loved by not just a man, but the player, and in doing so they often become the all-knowing god of their own prison. like tell me that’s not the dopest thing u’ve ever heard of!

twilight zone is a big one for me but 5 episodes in particular have shaped how i view horror forever. ‘to serve man’---where the greatest, scariest thing in the world is not being able to understand the language another person is actually using and for them to manipulate u using ur own, actually wishing u harm as they placate you with your own interpretations. the episode where a rich man’s last will and testament is for his vain, selfish relatives to wear a mask until midnight that reveals symbolically how ugly they are to him. they bicker all night with petty squabbles, and then at midnight he reveals the mask has permeanantly shaped their faces to reveal who they really are and the abuse he suffered under them. the cornfield episode still scares the shit out of me as someone with an entitled younger brother whose entitlement and anger is often enabled by those around us, and i’ve always thought that it was such a good show of like, how patriarchy enables little boy’s violence. the episode ‘all the time in the world’ where an abused man with a shitty life is finally the last man on earth and he can do anything he’d like to do and all he wants to do is read but then he breaks his glasses. and finally! the episode where toys in a box come to life and bemoan their fate as they realize they will be trapped there forever in clothes and identities they do not recognize. these episodes always scare the shit out of me LOL.

besides that i really like. low-budget passion project indie games. the first that comes to mind is ‘the path’ which is about a family of four sisters of various ages all inspired by little red riding hood who stray from the path and are hunted by the woodsman. and then the game that YOU my dear myers! showed me! that haunts me to this day. basically a tape talks to you about the areas of a house and then starts to talk about the house as a living creature. and the living creature is hungry, without you inside it. the living creature is tired of being alone, it’s tired of being abandoned, it’s tired, and it’s eyes are empty with no one in the windows, and it’s mind is blank with no one in the bedroom, and it’s hangry there’s no one in its basement to feast on, to torment as it has been tormented by disuse.

last but not least, i really enjoy the book ‘sharp objects.’ which is not technically a horror novel. but it is about a serial killer, and about women and abuse and it has some of the best writing ever. so i highly recommend it AND the miniseries (watch the miniseries first then read the book bc the miniseries is like. directed better? but the novel is written and characterized better. it’s also very short u can finish it in like a day and a half).

honorable mentions for horror In General (not necessarily psychological horror) are: 1) the birdcage. i honestly consider this movie entirely unsettling. robin williams failing to portray a man that is actually attracted to nathan lane, which could be because they have simply been married so long but also is just awful to me in general bc it makes me feel like even our outwardly gay but still more masc gay men can’t love and be attracted to femme camp gays even when they’re married to them. the fact that both these men that could be so in love, that were so in love at one time, you can at the very least imagine, are told by their only son that they need to go back in the closet to impress some old ass republicans, giving the message that no matter how succesful you are in the gay community, no matter how bright and wonderful a presence you are, no matter how loving you are, no matter how much you love, no matter how interwoven you are in lgbt-ness, the straight people you love most will still try to change you to impress the wold. horrifying.

2) coraline. its children’s horror but that’s still horror baby! i think lately about how much the movie talks about mothers and birth. coraline calls whybie ‘why born’ and i just think about how much she thinks about creating a new life with a new mother, and how going through that small door into a long tube... it’s like crawling into a new womb and being reborn to a new mother that loves you. and that’s horrific from a feminist perspective in and of itself---that your child would feel so unloved and unimportant to you that she would literally... rather die in this life, technically, rather be ‘unborn’ to you and born anew to someone, someone just like you but better, someone just like you but what SHE wants a mother to be, feminine and skirted and smiling. and then there’s the fact that coraline only gives this up when she realizes her other mother basically wants to change her more to suit her liking in ways that would cause her pain, at which point she realizes this whole fantasy is a lie, not real, something meant to entice her and control her and make her ‘perfect’---the same way she wants her mother & father to be ‘perfect’ in a way that causes her to act out and hurt them. it’s psychological horror that’s technically not psychological horror in the best way, something you can really dig your teeth into, something that has so many layers to it. and the animation! gorgeous!

3) finally i have recently watched annihilation. and it kind of changed my life a little bit.... so often we’re used to viewing monsters as either 1) malicious or 2) romantic/sad/sexy. but the monster in this movie is literally a metaphor for cervical cancer. 

to me, the monsters and the corpses and all the beautiful scenery in this movie, in every color u can think of, a muted rainbow of flowers and nature at its best and most bizarre and sprawling. i often say that monsters are beautiful, but tbh, i feel like... somehow i always mean that in a way that is near-fetishitic, somehow self-depcrating way, where i want to consider what other people think is ‘ugly’ is ‘beautiful to me’ because what i am also ugly to other people as a monster to the cishet white patriarchy. there are things i consider beautiful, certainly, purely beautiful. but when i talk about monsters being beautiful, it is in the way the sublime is beautiful. it scares me, it haunts me, i love it, i want to possess it as part of me, a totem to carry in my back pocket to make the strength in my own ugliness stronger.

when i saw the monster in this movie (SPOILERS) i was immediately unnerved at this bad cgi abomination that bloomed from the most beautiul cgi cancer death cosmos imaginable. it scared me and i had to sleep with a light on for 2 days after LOL. but i was also moved by its gentleness. by the fact that the cervical cancer alien, when it tried to hurt you, wasn’t trying to hurt you at all. it was simply copying your movements. in the movie, it says that the creature wants nothing. it was simply copying. it was simply changing. it’s a prism of nature---and it corrupts yes, and it can hurt people and things and turn them into scary but still terribly unique and beautiful things that also kill---but the movie says that it wants nothing. it simply exists. it’s a part of nature, same as us, a part of the same universe and cosmos, despite being alien to us and stange and hurting us sometimes in ways that it doesn’t understand.

i don’t know. if i quite believe the movie when it says that, though. because i think if you copy someone, like a child would, you are trying to understand them. you are trying to understand yourself. you are trying to form yourself in another’s image when you have none, and you are failing at that, and hurting people and creating monsters in the process, but you are trying as best as you can to be whole and beautiful and sane like the lovely creatures you’ve met on this earth, or this body. to be part of something great and beautiful. to be part of another world.

maybe it doesn’t want anything. but do WE want anything as children, when we copy adults? why did the bear and the alligator try to eat our heroes if they were not hungry? did the bear and the alligator not WANT to eat? i think everything wants to live, and everything wants to grow, and if it can learn to live better and grow better it Will learn even if that is not its explicit intention. does the alien have feelings? does nature? do we have to personify things to understand them? no. does personifying things make us understand them less? no, yes, sometimes. we ask animals and nature to copy us, follow us, so that we can understand them better. the relationship in between----from the hurt, from the pain, from the droughts and the food shortages and the hurricanes and the fireworks---forms from our kindness and understanding. that our crops are useful, and the man-made mutation of our crops and the help of the ran and the sun is also useful. that our animals may not love us, but they need us, and we love them for putting their paw on our thighs to be pet, for following us into the bathroom even when we just wanted a moment alone.

regardless of its intentions, the alien, cancer, every creature, every human, they simply want to grow. in copying others---in trying to touch, to change, to understand, and be close---we learn to live in the same body, learn to live in the same world. the togetherness--the new sight the prism brings---it’s beautiful. it is beautiful to copy, however poorly. it is beautiful to try. we all shape others to our own standards---we sometimes forget we too, were made in own own perception of others’ image.

[malethirsty]

Follow The Buzzards - Bray Wyatt

The Eater of Worlds 

Summary: Turfed from what you thought was your home, you ran for your life. But your saviours came from the shadows rather than the light.

Warnungs: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), TW: Homophobia, TW: Cult

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197987463223898112?s=21

You ran, as fast as you damn could, away from your brothers who would surely be running after you with pitchforks soon enough. You had made the brave decision to come out to your family, a decision you really should have thought about more carefully before your hateful father slapped you & had your brothers kick the shit out of you “Cause you’re my flesh and blood, I’ll give you five minutes before I send the men out to beat you like the fag you are!” And that led to right now, you running along the Louisiana forests, frightened for your life.

Cries of Buzzards made it’s way through the sky, and in that moment, you cursed them for making noise, it could lead your so called brothers to your location. All of a sudden, you tripped on a twig causing you to fall flat on the ground. You attempted to get back up, but your leg seemed sprained & was causing such pain. Picking yourself up, you tried your best to move on one leg, you heard gunshots nearby and knew your five minutes were up. All of a sudden you saw stuff that made your heart freeze: A man in a sheep’s mask stood before your path, looking very sardonic. You were frozen in horror, you turned around to see another man, dressed in a grey tank top, reaching out to you. Both your front and back ways were blocked and you couldn’t east as your home, or what you called a house was situated there. You turned West & was met with another man who had a scraggly beard, in a Hawaiian shirt & who was holding a lantern “Welcome to the Land of the Free.” Everything overwhelmed you and you feinted.

You eventually came round a while later inside a derelict house, the room seemed very dark, and you thought you could heard feint sounds which sounded like ‘Obey’ from a far off distance. “There you are!” Came a familiar voice, the voice of the man whom had spoken to you earlier, you turned your head to see him sitting in a rocking chair, gazing at you “We bandaged up your leg, don’t put too much pressure on it, it will heal soon.” “Thank you Mr.- Who are you?” “My dear, my name is Bray Wyatt.” “Y/N” you properly introduced yourself “I should apologize for feinting on you, cause that’s not common way to meet a stranger but I was scared. I thought you were sent by my brothers to take me down.” The man shook his head “Ain’t your brothers, they were mine. Luke Harper and the man in the mask, Erick Rowan. They’re gone now, patrolling the forest.” Somehow this news relieved you somewhat, as now with you & Bray, things seemed calmer, which he picked up on “You’re calmer now than before, why were you so scared?” Bray asked “It was my family, or people who I thought were. I came out to them, I knew I loved men but I wanted them to know cause they’re my family. They didn’t take to it well, my father beat me, let my brothers kick me till I bruised, then said I’d get a five minute head start before he sent them after me, they would have killed me had you not shown up!” Tears began to fall down your face as you recounted your story, Bray crossed to you and wiped your face

“And that’s how you found the buzzards.” You blinked “No, they found me, I was worried they’d give my position away.” Bray laughed “No my dear, you misunderstood. Me and my folk out here, when you walk where the Buzzards are flying overhead, they lead you right to us. Someone would follow the buzzards if they were in need of us, and so we heard you running and came to greet you. Your so called ‘brothers’ will not be able to find you here with us.” You somewhat smiled, leaning into Bray’s hand, looking up at the mysterious man. “Y/N, you need to sleep. There will be time to explain tomorrow, Sister Abigail will guard you through the night.” He pressed a kiss to your head as you slowly but surely began to drift off into a contented sleep.

A few weeks had passed, and you had settled into the Wyatt compound. You were certain that your brothers were not able to find it, so you were able to relax a little bit. Despite initial appearances, Luke & Erick were kinder than you expected, Luke had gotten you a new set of clothes “You probably don’t want to wear the stuff you were beaten up in.” He explained, ultimately finding a set of plaid shirts, and some denim jeans, you picked out a pair that matched him to his delight. You also talked with Erick about his life as he made campfire every night “I was ostracized by nearly everyone like a heard of sheep, all moving in one motion.” “So that’s why you wear the sheep mask?” You asked “Yeah.” Erick responded “You made the right decision to follow the buzzards, we’ve taken good care of you.” They did, as they’d made sure to rehab your leg and slept around you on the off chance your ‘brothers’ come knocking.

When it came to Bray however, he was completely different from the others. He had business to attend to in the forest with Luke & Erick. As you healed up, you would watch as he left hear feint murmuring in the trees, then him returning. You would always greet him afterwards, him courteously holding conversation with you. You liked these moments, somehow much more than with Luke & Erick, there was something about the man’s aura that gave you butterflies. When your leg was fully healed, Bray called on you to go with him out to the woods “You’ll here all I have to say, Luke & Erick will be with you so you have company.” So when your leg seemed better, you trudged out with Bray, Luke & Erick out into the forest, Bray perching himself atop a tree stump, Luke & Erick kneeling before him, you hastening to do the same. After a while, others began to emerge from the trees, men and women from what it seemed to be all walks of Louisiana. They all walked forwards to the stump and knelt down, looking up at Bray.

“It’s amazing how even I can still learn from my surroundings. The world is an evil place, this I have been told by Sister Abigail, and I have shared with all of you. But it’s only a few weeks ago that I discovered the full effects of it. I was out with my fellow brothers Luke & Erick, when we heard the buzzards calling. Not unusual, but we went to investigate and we found a broken man, chased from his own home, by the people he loved and cared for, only because he happens to love men.” You looked around somewhat worried that there may be an outburst, this was the South after all and after your father and brothers, you weren’t too certain of trusting anyone, but to your surprise, no one balked, in fact everyone was still looking transfixed at Bray, his Cajun accent filling the area.

“We took him in and helped him. He’s here today with us, in between his saviors.” He shot a glance at you before he continued. “You see how society chews up and spits out those who even dare to defy it! You could do nearly everything right, dress every eccentric thing about yourself up in cultural norms to fit in, but if you make one wrong move, no one wants to hear you speak! They use the working class as a machine to fore fill the wants and desires of the devils in suits, not giving a damn about the ones that slave around on their hands and knees! They have pushed us around for generations, kicked us down and kept us there! I should know, they did the same to me, treated poor ol’ Bray like dirt too, but I have something they don’t!” Bray let out a sharp laugh “I have you all, my brothers and sisters, all of whom asked for help when no one else would listen, and I took you all in, helped you to grow into the people that are before me today, and through this, we will guide our new brother Y/N, to new heights.” His voice returned to it’s gravelly Cajun roots as he spoke, restoring the tense mood to neutral after it had peaked earlier. Bray extended his arm to you “Come up here with me.”

You had been paying close attention to Bray, how his body swayed as he talked, how rough he was when he rasped his anger at how society punished anyone slightly different, so when he called you up, you were startled, but made your way up onto the stump “My lamb, tell them your name” you turned to face the group staring up at you “Y/N, my name is Y/N” “He was the man we rescued, the man we saved. Y/N, do you understand the twisting that society enacts on it’s people? How it nearly drove you to your death?” You looked at Bray, expectant on your answer “Yes I do.” “Do you wish to run away? Wish to throw all those people who hurt you out to start a life with us?” What Bray was offering would startle anyone else, but then again, anyone else hadn’t been driven out of their own house with bloodthirsty homophobes out for their blood “Bray, I don’t want it, I’d fucking embrace it!” The leader grinned “That’s settled.” He lent in and kissed you & suddenly you felt some sort of rush flood through you, like you belonged somewhere, you belonged with Bray, Luke & Erick, that it was where you were supposed to be. Bray looked down as the crowd moved forwards, hands outstretched as if appraising Bray like he was a God “Welcome Y/N to your new family.”

Festivities lasted for a long while, with Erick expertly spinning food for the family, you however were resting with Luke, getting across what had happened. “So the rush I had?” “That was Bray extending his energy through you, I have it and so does Erick, it bonds us closer.” “So are you able to like read minds or something?” The plaid covered man laughed “Bray controls that, however Erick & I can tell whenever we need help, if we are in need, we can detect moods but never thoughts. It’s how Bray got us about to welcome you that night.” On the mention of Bray’s name, you scanned the area, finding he wasn’t there “Where has Bray gone?” you asked “In the forest, I think he wants you to find him. I think he wants to talk in private.” “Oh” you shrunk a little, Luke seeming to understand why you were nervous “He’s not regretting his choice, he wouldn’t have given you a spot in our family otherwise. I think he has a crush on you, he’d usually express energy through a hand to your forehead, never with a kiss.” Slightly bolstered by Luke’s comment, you stood up to go to find Bray, Luke got Erick to accompany you in case things went wrong and the two of you set off.

Calmly walking with Erick through the forest, it took you a while to find Bray, discovering him singing along to ‘Down By The River To Pray’, he actually was alright. Midway through, he stopped “Y/N, you can sit next to me.” You were startled but Erick gave you an encouraging look, and you moved forwards, sitting across from the proclaimed Eater of Worlds. You heard Erick’s footsteps move away, leaving you alone with Bray “I know why you came looking for me.” Bray said casually “Cause of the link? That’s going to take time getting used to.” Bray shot a grin your way, “It can be tricky for people to get used to it, but use it, you have us now, we will help you. Trust me Y/N.” You noticed that Bray had stooped down to meet your height. “Trust me” he purred as his lips met yours, the kiss was sweet yet contained enough hints of dominance to show that Bray was in charge, your worries melted away and you returned it with devotion.

Bray lowered you to the forest floor, not breaking his grip on you until you were resting before he helped take off your garments, one by one. Once you were naked, Bray peeled off his shirt revealing his fat hairy torso “Fuck Bray, you’re so beautiful.” You moaned earning a grin from his as he continued to disrobe until he was also naked. He returned his attention to your mouth, eventually rolling over and you made your way to his cock & begin to suck it. “Oh yes Y/N!” Bray cried out, throwing his head back as you showed your devotion to him, moving your hands all over his chest and his nipples, you soon moving to suck his balls “Oh baby boy! You’re so good for daddy! You deserve the world & daddy is gonna give it to you!” Bray groaned out in the throws of ecstasy.

He pulled his hand away along with you & stroked his cock with lust brimming in his eyes as you fell back to the floor ‘Take me’ you heard his voice whisper through your link as he moved above you thrust inside your asshole. You moaned out as your head fell back, passion rippling through you as Bray fucked you ‘Don’t moan out loud, send it through the link, only for us.’ Bray’s instruction was clear and you obeyed instantaneously. While anyone passing by would see two men fucking, skin slapping but no words, alight by the moonlight but the link between the two of you was full of moans, groans & dirty talk as you experienced Bray’s passion. ‘Daddy loves your tight ass wraps around his cock, pulling him into ya!’ Bray slapped your ass ‘’Fuck, tell me more’ you groaned ‘I’ve been attracted to ya since you walked along my path, every day I would stroke my cock to the thought of you taking me like the good man you are, all for Bray Wyatt!’ ‘Yes Bray, I’m all yours, all yours daddy!’ ‘That’s right! I’m your daddy now, God Y/N, we’re gonna change this world, you and I, and if your so called father and brothers stand in our way, well, we’ll make the brothers your eternal slaves and kill your father, but before Erick sinks the knife in, Luke will hold his eyes open as he watches his son ride his new daddy, how he cries out as I impale you with my big cock! And before Erick kills him, you’ll moan out that your father had forsaken you, that I’m your daddy now’

Anyone else in your place would be sent running for the hills, but all you did was kiss Bray instead, your lips against the mouth that had spilled the most horrific sounding violence, but yet painted a picture of beauty ‘F-fuck, I’m so close!’ You’d be able to go for longer, but the magic had increased Bray’s power to where he could make you orgasm from the lightest breath & he knew it as well ‘I know, my Darlin, hold yourself together’ painful as it was, you bit into your lip, blood seeping onto your teeth as you obeyed. Bray’s leant in and licked it up, his grunts getting even louder as you grasped onto him, holding onto him desperately, you wanted to stay with him like this, naked and sweaty, forever ‘You will Darlin, you will. Clench around me, that’s right! Let go Y/N, come for daddy, cause he’s gonna follow right behind ya’ You both moaned out as you both began to shoot, Bray landing on top of you. You stayed like that, under him for a while, your hands running over Bray’s chest. Eventually he lifted you up and began to walk back to the house “You were so good for me tonight Y/N. Daddy loves you like Sister Abigail, my precious moonstone.”

[spiltscribbles]

combo of 7 & 8 for pynch hehe :)

Notes: Thank you so much love!!!  |   Send Me A Prompt 

.-

“It’s the last straw! I’m done! I’m over it!” Blue stabs the spoon into her yogurt, teeth clenched, and knuckles white. Adam, like the good friend he is, just calmly slides it out of her hand and gives her a banana instead.

“She’s not that bad of a roommate,” he tells her with a one armed shrug. The look she shoots him can only be described as the personification of betrayal. Adam can’t believe it’s the third time he’s rolled his eyes at her and it hasn’t hit nine in the morning yet.

“They were naked Adam! Nude! Birthday suits!”

“The biblical state,” Henry tacks on and Blue nods along graciously.

Make it four times before nine in the morning.

“It’s Orla…. She’s eccentric

“It was on the couch! I sit on that couch Adam!” blue hits her hand against the table, fully indignant now.

“I really would recommend having it at the very least steam cleaned before partaking in that activity  again,” Henry advises sagely as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Oh no! No way! I will never sit on that couch another day of my life!”

“Glad to see you’re taking this reasonably,” Adam says, voice blithe, as he brings their cereal bowls to the sink.

“Don’t start with me Adam! You haven’t seen the things I have! The freckles and birthmarks— The hair.” Blue shutters and henry slings an arm around her slim shoulders in comfort, clucking his tongue all the while.

Fifth…. It’s been the fifth time now.

“So how do you reckon you’ll live in there without sitting on the couch ever again?” He needles with a quirked brow, fully having decided to just fall into the dramatics. It’s always easier for him at the end of the day  when just excepting it.

“I’m moving out! Duh.”

“Oo, My Blueberry is becoming her very own American woman!” Henry preens. “Let me get you a chic new outfit Sabrina style!”

“That movie is sexist and culturally appropriates middle eastern garb.” Blue sniffs.

“Good to know that the new Blue has still got all her old spunk.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Adam tells them, lips pinched.

“We bring bursts of color into your otherwise stale existence,” Blue argues loftily.

“Ridiculous,” Adam repeats with feeling.

“Lying doesn’t become you my dear Henrietta Prince,” Henry tells him far too frankly before turning his attention back to Blue. “You know you’ve got a place here if you want it.”

“Where?” Blue snorts. “In your living room?”

“Our couch doesn’t have naked Orla germs,” Adam offers halfheartedly. 

Blue just levels him with a unimpressed look, and Adam’s got flashbacks to junior year when Maura caught the pair of them getting drunk off Persephone’s peach wine coolers.

It’s terrifying.

“Charming. But no need, I’ve already begun sifting around for places nearby that are looking for a new roommate.”

Adam takes the papers she’s already printed off and begins shuffling through them.

“This one has like five cats,” he tells her with a curled lip.

“It sounds homey.”

“You’re allergic,” Adam rebukes. 

“I’m desperate Adam!” Blue reminds him.

“This one has a picture of him wearing a MAGA hat on his facebook profile pic,” Henry informs her, holding a second listing.

“Okay not that desperate,” Blue crumples it up and tosses it to the side. Adam would tell her to throw it in the trash like an adult but reasons she’s having a moment. 

“Mmm, what about this one,” she waves around the paper and Henry takes it to look over himself.

“It’s with three random dudes.”

“Three normal looking dudes,” Blue presses. “And so to reiterate, I’m desperate.”

“Ted Bundy was a normal looking dude,” Adam charges, making Blue glare at him menacingly.

“Adam I can still see flesh in my nightmares!”

Sixth, sixth time he’s rolled his eyes. Jesus fucking Christ Adam is gonna be sent to an early grave because of  an aneurism from them.

.-

The problem is that when Blue sets her mind on something, not even the angels above can dissuade  her from it, so that’s why Adam spends his Saturday afternoon— the only one he’s had off from a shoot in literally three months— driving to some sketch apartment with her and Henry, in the latter’s abrasively flashy sports car. 

He feels like a fraud.

“Blueberry are you sure you put in the right address?” Henry asks, face scrunched in confusion once they cruise into the open parking spot in front of a dilapidated looking  manufacturing building.

Blue flickers her eyes back down towards her phone before glancing up with a sure nod. 

“Look it says Monmouth right over there on the sign near the front door. This’s the right place.” 

“Right place to get murdered,” Adam intones darkly. 

Blue only tosses him a glare before slipping out.

“Are we bad people for going along with this?” Henry asks Adam, his mouth downturned in concern.

“Nah, we were bad people long before this.” Adam assures him wryly  before following suit.

.-

“I don’t want a new roommate,” Ronan tells Gansey for the third time in the past hour. In turn, Gansey only rolls his eyes before trying to stuff the old pizza boxes into the trash can. God fucking damn it, Helen’s right, they do live like pigs.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Noah contends. “It’ll bring some new energy in this place.”

“Oy, what did I tell you about saying shit like energy and chakras.”

“That’s it’s something a douche hipster would say and you’d throw me out a window if you heard it again.”

“And yet.”

“All I can say to that is dude you need to clear your chakras.” Noah says, fully goading, and making it so an unexpected laugh tears out of Ronan, the total prick.

“For the love that is all holy and right, will you two please just attempt to act normal when she gets here.”

“It’s a girl?”

“A girl with models as friends,” Noah perks, completely beaming. “And you know what that means,” Noah winks and Ronan, for the good of the public, cuffs him on the back of the head. Hard.

“You fucking sly dog, how do you even know that?”

“Preliminary interview through the phone,” Noah shrugs. “She sounds nice, better than living with that guy with a pet snake.”

“That snake was fucking cool.” Ronan argues.

“There’s a one pet limit here, and your raven has taken the slot.” Gansey huffs, hand on his hip like Aurora would do if Ronan and Declan were being especially rowdy. “And Noah don’t ask about her model friends, that’s creepy.”

“That’s kind of my shtick man.” Noah points out, wide eyed.

“Less horror film creepy and more loser from Revenge of the Nerds creepy,” Gansey clarifies scoldingly.

Noah swallows down a lump, properly cowed.

It’s right then when the doorbell rings and Gansey frantically puts in the last of the empty cups into the dishwasher from the sink before scurrying to the doorway, Noah and Ronan on his heals.

Ronan knows he lost the battle and the war the moment the door swings open and the first thing the pixie sized, colorfully dressed girl says is a glowing “Blank 182?” While gesturing towards Noah’s… Well Noah’s everything.

Noah looks like the cat who’s gotten into the cream, Gansey looks more glowing than usual, and Ronan can’t take his eyes off the sandy haired boy she’s brought along with her.

.-

Living with Blue is a beast that Ronan can’t quite figure out how to defeat.

She, probably like any sane person, expects the house to be in some sort of semblance— aka no more jackets and other innocuous articles of clothing thrown about the shared living space, and for dishes to be rinsed after use and put into the dishwasher accordingly. 

“Your rooms can be as trashy as you want, but can we please not make the whole place a pigsty,” she had sniffed with a cocked head and jut out hip. Gansey of course nodded giddily— on account to his staring at her all moony ever since meeting her— Noah had shrugged, indifferent. But Ronan held out as long as possible, sneer on his lips. But alas, she met his every zig with a zag and he found himself in a stalemate.

But Ronan could deal with the tidiness and even the impromptu yoga sessions she holds with randoms from her classes at university. Hell he could deal with her weird obsession with Yogurt too, and can actually listen to her rants about the patriarchy and institutional blocks that keeps the impoverished and people of color and women down from being able to achieve feats once only meant for wealthy white men. Fuck, Ronan’s come to think her particular brand of spitfire humor is actually hilarious.

So yes all of this is fine. But with Blue comes them. Henry Cheng, best friend she met at some art class her freshman year. And fucking Adam Parrish, apparently someone she’s known for so long and so intimately that she refers to him as family more often than not.

And yeah. Ronan is not jealous and Noah needs to take that fucking sneer off his face.

“You’re jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Ronan yells emphatically for the fifth time.

“Ronan has a crush!”

“Noah God so help me!” He threatens, totally venomous.

“You’re in loveee!” 

“Noah I will destroy you!”

.-

Okay so Ronan might be sorta, kinda, not jealous…. But bothered. Yes Bothered. He’s bothered because he can’t fucking figure out Blue and Adam’s deal. One second they’re sniping at one another about the economy and the next she’s lying her head in his lap while he’s carding a hand through her hair.

Fucking salacious shit.

But occasionally, on especially good days, Blue falls asleep early and instead of going back home right away, Adam stays. He stays and he shares a drink with Ronan on the porch and they talk about nothing really, but also a lot of things. Ronan find’s out he basically grew up with Blue, that she was his first everything. He’s deaf in his left ear and he didn’t mean to fall into modeling but he didn’t have enough money to finish the semester at MIT and instead of giving up he took up some side gigs which eventually culminated into a career of his own. 

Ronan finds out that Adam’s favorite flavor of ice cream is cow tracks and his front tooth is chipped from behind.  Adam has a small, crooked smile and when he laughs its more breath than sound and its absolutely lovely.

Ronan finds this all out but still has no idea whether he has a shot.

And again, he’s bothered.

.-

“I vote on something classic,” Blue tells them with a sip of her shake. (Read the shake Adam bought but Blue somehow still always drinks half of even while she complains about being on a diet, which then leads her to grouse about how Adam stays narrow and lithe even if he eats four quarter pounders back to back).

Sadly, this happened once and only once when Adam was especially stressed over a finals week and hadn’t eaten for literally three straight days. 

She really has seen him at his worst.

“Ooo, let’s watch some singing in the rain! I’m ready to belt out some toons.” Henry crows.

“Oh well if it includes your perfectly pitched singing,” Adam says flatly. Blue promptly elbow checks him and Henry waggles his tongue out.

“Sounds good to me Henry, so where?”

“Your place?” Adam says, brow kinked and trying to smother down the hopefulness in his voice. Of course, it doesn’t work. They know him better than anyone else, and they immediately stick him with matching smirks.

“Pray tell Parrish, me and you have the better entertainment system by far, and yet you’ve been insistent on heading to Blueberry’s place for our weekly movie nights for the past two months…. Hah, I wonder what two months signify?”

“Ooo ooo! I know Henry, I know!” Blue teases swinging her arm up high like an excited school girl. “I just moved into Monmouth and Then Adam over here got all slack jawed and goofily eyed over my scary roommate!”

“Blueberry gets the point!” Henry squawks, giving her a makeshift bracelet out of the straw wrapper.

Adam looks at them both with as much fury as he could muster, cheeks infused red, and jaw locked.

In retort, they only laugh ebulliently.

Adam is so tempted to make new friends.

.-

Ronan opens the door on a random Thursday afternoon a week later and Adam steels his nerves, not about to back down.

“Oh, ah Parrish.” His prominent brows furrow together, suspicious. “Maggot isn’t here yet.”

“I know,” Adam says, head tipped high. “Can I come in?”

Ronan only shrugs as he moves aside to give him the room to enter.

“You look like you have something squirming up your ass,” Ronan tells him, as blunt and as crass as ever.

Adam silently questions to the universe why is it that he’s so resoundingly attracted to him for that.

“You’re so eloquent with your words Lynch, you know that?” Adam tells him, completely flat, and making it so Ronan’s answering grin is something feral and amused.

“So you gonna just stand there looking pretty or actually get it out?”

“Jesus Christ, do you have an ounce of patience in your entire body?”

“I sweat it out at the gym, you wouldn’t know that skinny.” Ronan barbs, hip checking him while he struts to the kitchen.

Adam just glares after his form… His well built and deliciously broad shoulders.

“Still got enough muscle to beat your ass,” Adam teases and Ronan leers, impressed. Adam walks closer, magnetized. 

“So Blue’s enlightened me about something.”

Ronan hikes up a brow, betraying his mask of indifference.

“Is that right. What? Did Maggot make you understand that the hand holding and lovey-dovey looks are getting abrasive?”

Adam is utterly confused to what he’s talking about— Did he find out about the crush, and if so does that mean he’s already, wordlessly rejected Adam. Is Ronan completely uncomfortable right now.

Adam shakes off the questions, is determined to just plunge in for once in his life without beating a situation to death with analysis.

“She’s enlightened me that my crush on you is getting to ridiculous levels of yearning and i should just ask you out like an adult.”

A thousand different expressions pull at Ronan’s face until finding landing at something Adam can only call aw.

“Oh— Ah, wait. Wait do you like me?”

Adam rolls his eyes heavenwards. God he really is going to get an aneurysm.

“You are such a doofus,” Adam sighs before inkling his head forwards and kissing Ronan senseless.

Ronan grabs his head and presses impossibly closer.

.-

Later that night, when Henry and Blue march in with the decided upon movie they both begin to preen at the sight of them, exchange bills with Noah and Gansey too.

Again, Adam is going to be sent to an early grave. But hey, if in the meanwhile Ronan does that thing with his tongue, Adam will at least enjoy his final earthly days.