#but Mob chooses to come die with this man

[brown-little-robin]

moment of all time...

[yanderefarm]

yandere crime lord x sadistic male reader

cw;; torture, burn wounds, blood, gore, stockholm syndrome, yandere, drugs, kidnapping, murder, smoking, cruel reader

here he is.... my most fucked up bby girl. i wrote this a little differently than the others... i had a different vibe in mind.

achilles is the eldest son of a notorious mob family, the second most powerful in charge right under his father. he makes lots of big decisions, like his recent attempts to take over a smaller gang with cruelty and force. unfortunately being a sexy big shot comes with its own little vices, achilles likes smoking for instance. nasty habit especially for someone in his position, doesn't he realize how vulnerable he is when he's taking a smoke break? so easy for you to drug.

you flick some of the cigarette ash towards the man in question. he's on his knees arms tied behind his back and duct tape over his mouth. he keeps shooting you dirty looks. it's funny.

"such a waste..."

you run a red room service on the dark web. essentially, anyone with enough money can hire you to kidnap and torture whoever they want. some people hire you to make elaborate snuff videos with their desires all written out for you, other people let you and your audience decide what kind of torture would take place over your live streams. that's where the handsome man in front of you came from, the gang he'd been destroying had bought your services.

you had already explained that to him, as well as mocked him for his cigarette habit. now you were letting one of the cigarettes burn before your stream actually started, you didn't actually smoke it choosing instead to let him watch you waste it. his scowl was hot.

his screams were hotter. the first hour in, you had him covered in cigarette burns and his stomach flinching away from your touch. the second hour in, he had multiple gashes all over his trembling body. the third hour in, he had finally started to sob and his body was covered in lovely bruises.

"sorry guys, we can't kill him yet. but that means we get a toy for a little while!" you gripped his hair and brought his tear stained face up to the camera. "say goodbye to our friend!"

and that ended your first stream with your new toy. you cleaned him up and brought him to his new room.

"you'll probably be the show tomorrow unless I get another job. eat up." you gave him a nice dinner and pulled the duct tape off his mouth.

"... when will I die?"

"dunno. good work chilles, sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

that's how it began. the guy ended up being your show about half the week for the next two months. never enough to kill him and every day you cleaned up his wounds and took good care of him. he never cursed you or complained about his place he would ask you questions and thank you for the food. it was pleasant conversation, he was a nice companion in your otherwise drab life.

it was halfway into the third month when you got news that those gang members who hired you were dead. you'd been waiting the whole time for them to pay for you to kill achilles and now it was never coming. at least you made good money from your streams in the meantime.

"you're free to go." you stood in the doorway of achilles's room.

his eyes looked at you, slowly widening as he realized what you said. "wh.. why?"

"m gonna drug you up and drop you in front of your house. you won't know where you were but I'd really appreciate if you didn't try to come after me at all. "

"why are you letting me go? did something happen?"

"you should quit smoking by the way. maybe i won't be able to get you-"

you saw something in his eyes snap. those eyes that had been practically blank the whole time even when the torture made him lose his voice from screaming. now they were dark and hazy, significantly more threatening than he'd been before. he crawled on his hands and knees to your leg and looked up at you with tears in his eyes.

"why....? am i not.. did i do it wrong? i can be a good toy."

you were caught off guard by his reaction. "uh... well uh the guys who hired me like... they died without paying me to kill you. so like... i don't have a reason to keep you?"

"how much?"

"huh??"

"how much do you need to keep me?"

you reached down and gently carded your hand through his hair. "you don't want to stay here, dumbass."

"yes I do." he nuzzled his head into your hand.

"you really want to stay here and get tortured until you die? use your brain."

his darkened eyes looked up at you with the most pathetic look. "i want to stay with you."

"fuck" he's cute? he's cute. "ok...jesus, lets do this. you go home, get reunited with your family, try to get back to normal life. and I'll contact you so if you still want to be LITERALLY tortured over living your normal life I'll bring you back. ok?"

"you'll actually come get me, right?"

"yeah. I'll get you and I won't even make you pay."

"I'll be back soon." he rubbed his head against your leg. "please get your favorite tools ready."

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

The Cards We're Dealt

Title: The Cards We’re Dealt

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, alcohol, cursing, objectification of women and mild sexism, bad parents, angst, fluff, mentions of drugs

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.

A/N: Wow! Another long fic because I have no self-restraint. There’s a bit of Irish in this because I couldn’t resist it when I wrote Steve. Translations are at the end, and anything incorrect can be blamed on Google Translate. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and supporting me in all the ways you do. 

There is an unspoken rule amongst the mobs in New York that the more drug manufacturers a man controls, the nicer you treat his daughter. So, when Bucky’s father tells him that he’s once again been pimped out as part of a deal, Bucky knows to ask the question,

“How many does he control?”

If Bucky had his way, of course, he would treat all girls as well as he is able (which is very well). He likes girls, and he likes going out with girls. He just wishes he could choose which girls he got to take out.

“Seventy-five percent,” George Barnes says, and Bucky freezes with his glass against his lips. He has a club soda to his father’s whiskey—he’s in a good mood and was actually hoping to enjoy the day, though now he’s reconsidering it. His plan to lounge by the pool with Becca and soak up as much of the late spring sunshine as possible is quickly dissipating. 

“That’s not possible,” Bucky replies. He quickly does the math in his head. His dad owns over half the manufacturers in Brooklyn. “We own—“

“Not anymore.”

The library falls silent as Bucky tries to wrap his head around the news. Just yesterday he’d overheard his father on the phone with one of his men, explaining in great detail what he’d do if they didn’t get him a sample of their newest product by the top of the hour.

“How?” he asks. He sets his glass aside and sits straighter in his chair. “Did something happen? You didn’t tell me about a takeover.”

George takes a sip of his whiskey. “That’s because there wasn’t one.” He sets the crystal tumbler on the small bronze tray nearby. Marta will come clean it up later. “I sold them.”

“You sold them? If you’ve already struck a deal, then why am I taking out his daughter? Isn’t that normally something you have me do to butter their fathers up before you make the deal?”

Bucky watches as his own father stands and goes to watch the landscapers through the library window, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s long since been out of the army, but some habits die hard. Very rarely did the man ever relax.

“You are the deal,” George answers, his voice much too casual for Bucky’s liking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” snaps Bucky.

“Watch your tone, boy,” his father replies. He doesn’t turn around to witness the way Bucky grinds his teeth together in response. “In exchange for the majority of Theo’s territory, you and Y/N will be married within a year and a half, though the exact date is up to the two of you. I believe that Theo mentioned his daughter likes spring, so perhaps a spring wedding. June is popular, from what I’m told, though that’s cutting it a little close to the deadline.”

Bucky’s up out of his seat now. He can feel his pulse thrumming and he can’t quite catch his breath.

“So what? You threw me in to sweeten the pot? Am I just another bargaining chip to you now?”

He’s shouting. He doesn’t care.

George turns and regards him in silence, and, like always, his expression betrays nothing of what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by Bucky’s outburst.

“You’re my heir. I make my decisions based on what’s best for our family. Nothing about this decision is impulsive or frivolous, James,” he finally answers, his voice cool and even. There’s nothing familial in his tone—George Barnes is all business. 

“You can’t just decide that I’m getting married. I won’t do it. I refuse,” Bucky tells him. He balls his fists at his sides and he sets his jaw, furious. How dare his father try to control his life like this? It’s one thing to occupy the majority of Bucky’s nights and weekends with dates, meetings, dinners, and weapons runs, but it’s another to throw him into a marriage he doesn’t want.

“I can and you will. If you don’t, there will be consequences. To start, you will be immediately cut off from our family. You will have no money, no home, no resources, and no contact or communication with anyone involved in the business, including your mother and your sister.”

Heart pounding, Bucky glares at him. He’s got a migraine coming on. He knows his father isn’t kidding, but he wants more than anything for Steve to pop out and say that this is all just a joke. He’s never even met Theo’s daughter. He’s barely even met Theo. According to the rumors, his only daughter is his most prized treasure. She isn’t someone who frequents any of the bars, clubs, and restaurants that he and the other “mob children” frequent. Maybe “mob children” isn’t exactly the right term, at least not anymore. After all, Bucky’s engaged now. He’s just part of the mob, another pawn to be moved around the chessboard.

“You have the rest of the day off. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning,” says George. He picks up his glass and downs the last of the liquor. “Theo and his family are coming for breakfast, and then Y/N will be moving in with us. I want you on your best behavior.”

He pauses and Bucky continues to glare at him, not validating his words with a response. George’s eyes grow dark with a thinly veiled threat. Bucky knows that look—if he pushes his father any harder, he’ll regret it. 

“Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky grinds out.

Turning on his heel, Bucky stalks out of the library and slams the door behind him. He immediately heads down the hall, then down the stairs and across the ground floor of the Barnes Estate to the garage. His keys are still in his pocket; he’d only just gotten back from a night out with Steve when his father had summoned him.

It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Bucky climbs onto his bike and revs the engine, speeding off down the long driveway that winds around the house. The guards barely get the gate open in time and then he’s flying down the road, heading straight to Steve’s bar in the city. He knows his friend will be there, most likely nursing his hangover and going over the books in his back office. He won’t be hard to convince to go out again, though Bucky knows he won’t approve of the plan to drink as much as he possibly can in the next twelve hours. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man, and he’s determined to make the most of it.

You sit between your parents, staring at the empty seat across from you. They’d told you this morning that you were going to the Barnes Estate for breakfast, and while you’d expected the grandeur of the dining room and the meal, you didn’t expect the eldest Barnes child to be completely absent. You’ve never met him, but your mother has insisted that you speak to James—George Barnes’ only son and heir—as much as possible during the meal. Supposedly, he’s the same age as you.

Rebecca Barnes is a ray of sunshine and her cheery disposition is a stark contrast to the dark clouds that now hang over your fathers’ heads. Maybe it’s a deal gone wrong or maybe it’s something else, but you don’t like it. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Silently, you sneak a hand under the table to find your mother’s. You squeeze and your mom squeezes back, glancing over to give a reassuring smile.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Barnes starts, and you jump a little in your seat. You haven’t been verbally addressed since you’d been seated a half hour ago. The food has yet to be served. “Your parents tell us that you’re very interested in horticulture. Did you know we have a rose garden out back?”

You force a polite smile. “I don’t know about very interested. I have a few house plants that I’ve managed to keep alive, though I would love to see your garden sometime. I’m sure it’s beautiful,” you add.

“Maybe Bucky can take you,” Rebecca says, earning herself a sharp look from her mother. She simply shrugs.

Oh, to be as unbothered as Rebecca Barnes!

“Where is James?” your father asks. His voice is a low, threatening growl and you sink down in your chair, staring at the cloth napkin still folded atop your plates.

“He knows to be here,” Mr. Barnes growls back. “You’ll have to excuse his tardiness, he’s not normally like this.”

Mrs. Barnes gives Rebecca an even harsher look when she opens her mouth to speak, and this time the girl actually looks ashamed. She takes a sip of her orange juice to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s the first person to have actually touched something on the table, and it’s like whatever spell the room has been under is broken.

All at once, the dining room springs to life. A short, slightly heavy-set woman in a gray dress and white apron enters through one door. She’s holding a delicate silver coffeepot and the smell of coffee instantly fills the room. Two younger women in identical uniforms follow behind her, each of them pushing golden carts laden with food. Through the door across the room, a tall man with short, dark brown hair stumbles in. He’s wearing all black, from his rumpled button-up and jeans to his boots and sunglasses. His hair is sticking up in every direction and just like the coffee, you can smell the stench of alcohol coming from him even from your seat.

You grimace at the smell and pull your napkin into your lap as one of the women comes to place food in front of you. It’s a formal dining service and the strange new man who’s entered feels entirely out of place. From his attire to the way he shuffles across the antique rug, everything about him screams that he’d rather be anywhere else. If you acted like that, your father would be pulling you back out into the hallway to reprimand you, and you look anxiously at Mr. Barnes, who’s seated at the head of the table. 

“James,” he greets, his voice unnervingly even. A chill runs down your spine. “It’s nice of you to join us. I trust that you slept well last night?”

James collapses into the only empty chair at the table, the one across from you, and pointedly ignores his father. You risk a glance up at him as he reaches for the cup of coffee that’s already been poured.

True to form, Rebecca leans over and claps a hand on her brother’s shoulder blade. “Good morning! Aren’t you excited to have breakfast with our guests?” she shouts, and her smirk makes it much too clear that she’s fully enjoying the way her brother’s scowl deepens. Rebecca also ignores her parents, including her mother, who leans forward to look past James and give her a look of warning.

James shrugs his sister off of him and starts buttering the toast on his plate. You watch for a moment, then start picking at your own food as your mother also begins to eat. Everyone’s acting so strangely that you’re already on edge, and you’ve only managed to get down a few grapes and two bites of dry toast by the time your father speaks up again.

“So when are we signing these papers?” he asks, sipping his coffee. 

“As soon as the marriage license is signed,” answers Mr. Barnes.

You frown. Marriage license? Who’s getting married?

“And the terms are the same as when we last spoke?”

Mr. Barnes sips his own drink, something that looks suspiciously like whiskey, and sets down the glass. “Yes. I have that contract in my office. We’ll review and sign after we’re done here. Are all of your daughter’s things ready to be moved?”

Your stomach drops and you turn to stare at your father with wide eyes. He nods, not even paying attention to you as he continues his conversation with the other man. Your mother pointedly ignores you, choosing instead to stare at her plate as she eats. When you look around the room, it seems like almost everyone else is doing the same. Rebecca is the only person who actually meets your panicked gaze. She gives you a pitying look as your anxiety rises.

It feels like your mouth is filled with sandpaper, and you grab your glass of juice. You have to drink half of it before the feeling even mildly abates. As soon as you set it down, one of the women in gray appears to refill it.

“What’s going on? Why are you moving my stuff?” you finally choke out. You twist the napkin in your lap with both hands, wringing it as you look from one person’s face to the next.

Mr. Barnes stops mid-sentence and the whole room freezes. Even James, who’s pouring something into his coffee cup from a small silver flask, stops what he’s doing.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother begins, taking your hand under the table.

You want to pull away. You don’t.

“After breakfast, your father and I are going home, but you’ll be staying here with the Barneses.”

“What?” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “No, I don’t— I don’t want to stay here. You never said anything about me—“

“We’re getting married,” James interrupts. He’s chewing and you look over at him, gaping at the casual way he’s sprawled out in his chair. You can feel his gaze on you even from behind his sunglasses and it makes you feel dirty. 

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles and sits up, then leans forward in the chair. He drops the greasy strip of bacon he’d been eating onto his plate. “We’re getting married. They’re using us like bartering chips, sweetheart. You and me in exchange for all the drugs and all the territory in New York.” James gestures grandly with one hand, a too-wide grin on his face. There must be at least ten rings on each of his hands and you swallow thickly at the threatening display of black and silver metal.

You’re trembling now and you pull your hand away from your mom’s. She reaches for you again but you shake your head, shying away from her touch. Frantically, you look around the room to see if this is some kind of joke or a drunken rambling, but no one is laughing. Even Mrs. Barnes has the decency to look sympathetic on your behalf.

“No, no. You wouldn’t—“ You look back at your parents, imploring them to say that it isn’t true. You swallow thickly, trying to stave off tears, and your voice wavers as you prompt, “Mom? Dad?”

Their silence speaks volumes and a whimper escapes you as you wring your hands in your lap. The napkin slides onto the floor. It suddenly feels like you can’t breathe and when your mom reaches out for a second time and starts to tell you to calm down, you jerk away and stand. The chair falls backwards behind you, but you ignore it as you rush out of the dining room and into the hallway you’d entered from. Everything is unfamiliar. Frantically, you pick a door and yank on the handle. It doesn’t give way and you continue the process until one of them finally opens and you can rush inside. You lock it behind you and press your back against the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, shrouding the room in darkness. You can’t make out much of the furniture through the tears in your eyes.

Out in the hallway, you can hear your mother calling for you and your father arguing with Mr. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes is yelling at somebody too, but it’s hard enough to hear the others over your own gasps and sobs. You’re properly crying now and you sink to the floor, curling up on the carpet as you heave. It’s a good thing you weren’t able to stomach much breakfast.

A knock on the door makes you yelp and then cry harder, and you crawl into the darkness of the room to try and find a hiding spot. You’re lucky enough to find an old, heavy desk right away. It’s the perfect size for you to crawl under for shelter, and there’s no chair for you to move out of the way. The drawers on both sides create a cubby for you, so you crawl into it and curl up into a ball with your back towards the door, just in case someone manages to get in. If you’re quiet enough, it’s possible they’ll walk right past you.

The crowd in the hallway has definitely heard you by now. The doorknob is rattling as whoever’s on the other side tries to get in, but after a few minutes, they stop and the hallway goes quiet. You hold your breath after every couple of sobs, listening for any sign that they’ve found a key or that they’re picking the lock. Nothing happens, however, and after a while, you give up on listening.

You sit in the darkness and cry until you’re thoroughly exhausted. Once you’ve run out of tears, you sit and zone out with your head resting against the side of the desk drawers for a while longer, numb from the news. Your body feels light and a buzzing, tingling feeling makes moving your limbs seem impossible. You could’ve never imagined that your parents would be so capable of treating you so poorly. You’ve always felt so loved by them, and to hear that they’ve practically thrown you away at the first chance of a profit makes you want to puke. Upon that realization, you actually do throw up, and the stink of your vomit on the carpet of whatever room you’re in makes you want to cry all over again.

The door opens just as the stench is becoming too much to bear. Light floods in from the hallway and you squint, curling up in fear. After a moment, the shorter woman in the gray uniform that you’d seen at breakfast appears a few feet away from the desk, right in the path of light. You look up at her. 

“Oh dear,” she sighs, and you instantly feel ashamed at the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. Your bottom lip is trembling again as fresh tears somehow appear in your eyes. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your wrists. “I can clean it if you—“

“You’ll do no such thing,” the woman says. Her voice is gentle and kind, so much so that you don’t feel the need to argue with her. She waves her hand dismissively and approaches you, then holds out both hands. She’s careful not to step in the mess you’ve made. “Now come on, up you go.”

You let her help you to your feet and then you straighten out your clothes, sniffling and wiping at your nose again in a desperate attempt to look more put together than you feel. Still a bit unsteady, you whimper for a second time, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear.” She gives you a warm smile. “My name’s Marta. I’m the head housekeeper here. It’s very nice to meet you.”

You don’t feel the same way about meeting her, given the circumstances, but you hold that comment to yourself and simply nod in agreement. Marta leads you back out into the too-bright hallway. It’s empty except for a bald man mopping the floor on the far end.

The high ceilings and glossy marble floors make it look like you’re in a castle. Even the silence feels regal. Everything seems so cold compared to your home, and you feel too small in the massive space.

“What time is it?” you quietly ask, looking back at Marta.

“It’s almost noon, Miss.”

Your stomach sinks and you press your lips together, inhaling deeply as you look around again. Three hours have passed.  “My parents…”

“They left about fifteen minutes after breakfast,” she tells you. Her words are matter-of-fact, even if she delivers the news in the softest possible way.

Somehow it hurts worse that they’ve left you than finding out they’d practically sold you to the Barneses in exchange for God knows what. Drugs or territory, whatever James had said. Not only did they treat you like nothing, but they’d deserted you after it was clear you didn’t agree with their plans. They hadn’t even tried to reassure you that they still loved you or that you’d still be able to see them. Maybe you wouldn’t be. Maybe they didn’t.

You nod numbly. There’s been nothing to prepare you for this, no precursor or warning, so you keep looking around the hall, though in reality you’re not really seeing anything. 

“Your room is ready upstairs, Miss Y/N. Would you like me to take you?” asks Marta.

You nod again. You feel like you’re underwater as you follow her up a grand staircase and then down a long, narrow hallway. It’s decorated similarly to the ground floor, though with a plush Persian rug running its length. Marta talks as she walks ahead of you, no doubt explaining what the many doors lead to, but her words simply go in one ear and out the other. It’s all so surreal that when you finally get to your own room, you don’t even open the door. Marta has to reach around you to open it, and then she gently ushers you inside when you still don't move.

Just as they had said at breakfast, your belongings have all been moved into the Barnes Estate. The furniture here is different, grander than what you’re used to, but your blankets and pillows are on the bed, and the two bookshelves are packed full of the books you’ve collected over the years. Even the strip from the photo booth at an old friend’s wedding is pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Someone’s even thought to put your plants on their own table by the window. 

“There’s a bathroom on the left and your closet is on the right,” Marta explains, pointing to each. “If you’re hungry, dinner is at five.”

“Do I have to eat with them?” you ask.

If Marta is surprised by your question, she doesn’t show it. She simply shakes her head with a gentle smile. “No. We can bring food here if you’d like.”

You nod and stand in silence until she leaves and closes the door behind her. Then, after another minute passes, you drag yourself over to the bed, climb under the covers, and close your eyes.

If there’s any mercy left in this life, you think, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up again.

Weeks pass and you still haven’t adjusted to life at the Barnes Estate. The staff is only slightly less friendly than those you grew up with, but they’re more attentive. It helps that there are more of them. For every member of the Barnes family, yourself included, there are at least four staff members to attend to their every need. It makes you feel like royalty, but it also makes you feel guilty. You don’t need this much. You certainly didn’t ask for it.

You haven’t seen James since the ill-fated breakfast, nor have you seen your parents. They’ve gone so far as to block your number. After that discovery, you’d locked yourself in the massive ensuite bathroom and cried for an hour. Marta had been the one to coax you out. The poor maid who’d found you when coming to get you for dinner hadn’t known how to help. You’d spent that entire evening curled up on your bed while reruns of The Nanny played on the TV embedded in the wall across from the massive mattress. Marta had spent every second with you that she could, but eventually Mrs. Barnes—Winnifred, as you referred to her in your mind—had scolded her for neglecting her nighttime duties across the estate. That made you feel even worse.

“Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and you turn to look at her from where you’re staring out the hallway windows at the gardeners. The backyard is massive, complete with a rose garden in full bloom, an outdoor swimming pool, a forested walking trail, a large green expanse for games and parties, a gazebo, a fountain, and what seems to be stables far in the distance, though you haven’t ventured far enough to be sure. A visit to the rose garden hasn’t been brought up again either, and nothing seems interesting enough to explore on your own.

Nodding, you don’t say anything before turning back to watch the men work. They talk and laugh with each other as they prune, pick, and water. You wish that you could trade places with them. 

“You don’t look okay,” she says. Rebecca props herself up on the window ledge to your right, facing you with a suspicious look on her face. “We haven’t seen you at any meals, and Valerie told me that you were crying in the bathtub three nights ago.”

You should feel ashamed, but you’re too numb to care. It feels like you’re floating through each day, detached from most things. You’ve spent your entire life thinking that you would marry for love and live happily ever after. Now, your parents have sold you to the highest bidder and your husband-to-be is a cruel, disgusting man-child that wants nothing to do with you.

Rebecca’s fingers lacing with yours jerk you back to reality and you look down at your joined hands in confusion. Her nails are bitten short and she wears a single ring with the Barnes family crest. It’s dainty and gold, a stark contrast to the many rings on her brother’s fingers.

“You’re safe here, Y/N,” she tells you, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If I had any say in it, you could be home right now with your parents, but I’m far from the top of the totem pole.”

“I hate them.” You spit the words out and jerk your hand away from hers. “I hate my parents.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said that in your entire life and your heart skips a beat as the anger makes your lip curl. You’re baring your teeth at her but Rebecca doesn’t even flinch. She’s a mafia princess, through and through.

“They made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, that I could marry whoever I wanted whenever I was ready, and then they threw that all away and treated me like shit the first time it was convenient for them.”

She nods. “That’s true.”

“I was so foolish to have believed them,” you growl, but the fight in you is fading just as quickly as it came. You burn bright, but you burn quickly, too.

“No,” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “You’re just human.”

You look away, embarrassed by your display of emotion as your eyes begin to water with more tears. You were raised to be reserved. You knew very little about the inner workings of your parents’ business, but you’d learned as a young girl that you’d fare better if you always clung to the edges of the room, avoiding the dirt and grime and blood that surrounded your whole life. Over the years, you’ve grown very good at hiding yourself and your emotions from the people around you. From the spark in her eye, you have the feeling that Rebecca is the exact opposite. She could hold her own if it came down to it. You couldn’t.

“It’s okay to be upset,” she insists.

Shaking your head, you take a deep breath and look back out the window. You lift your chin slightly and when Rebecca tries to rope you into another conversation with her, you ignore her and focus on the men outside. They’re finished tending to the roses on the edges of the garden. Now they’re working their way inwards.

You’re finally left alone a few minutes later and as soon as she’s around the corner, you let out a heavy sigh and relax your posture. Slumping forward, you lean forward into the window ledge, curling up just a little as you continue to watch the gardeners. The silly song from Alice in Wonderland pops into your head and you hum along, eventually mumbling to yourself about painting the roses red.

You feel a little bit like Alice, you realize. You’re out of your element in a strange land where everything you’ve learned about life seems to be turned on its head. In this world, nobody marries for love and the girls are just as entrenched in the business as the men. Does Rebecca conduct business with her father and older brother? You could certainly picture it. Will the same be expected of you?

That afternoon, Marta knocks on your door with a written invitation from Winnifred. Your presence is being formally requested at their dinner table, though from the look the housekeeper is giving you, it’s more of a demand than a request. With her help, you pick out something to wear. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re crossing the enormous hallway in a dress and heels that you’ve never seen before. It’s far too showy for your taste, but it’s clearly something someone wanted you to wear. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have put it in your closet.

George Barnes and James stand when you enter the dining room, as do several other men you don’t recognize. Your father is standing near the head of the table with George, though your mother and Rebecca are nowhere in sight. Besides Winnifred, you don’t recognize any of the other women. The only empty seat is beside James and your immediate instinct is to flee, but then he’s stepping aside to pull out the chair and all eyes are on you.

Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you and sit. He helps you scoot in, then takes his own seat on your right. The other men sit as well and then dinner resumes. You sit in silence, staring at the top edge of your plate with your hands in your lap. You’re not really listening to the conversations around you, either, but you can feel someone’s eyes on you as you try to stay as quiet and motionless as possible.

“Are you sick or something?”

You startle and look up with wide eyes. James is watching you. He’s got one hand on the table with his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and the other resting on his thigh. Unlike your fateful breakfast weeks ago, James is dressed in a neat, all-black suit. He has no tie, and his rings are all gone except one. It’s identical to Rebecca’s family crest, except his is silver and has a thicker band.

His eyes are full of something you can’t place and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. As quickly as you turned to him, you turn away and look back at your plate. The napkin is folded in some elaborate way on top of the plate. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to resemble anything at all, but maybe if you stare at it long enough, it will look like something.

“Y/N?” he prompts. You nod once, tightly, and then pull the heavy cloth napkin into your lap when a server appears to present the first course.

Between the second and third course, you can feel James’ eyes on you. After the third, he gets roped into conversation with a man sitting across the table, but you know that he’s glancing at you all the while. After the fourth, he bumps his arm against yours. You shirk away and feel him tense beside you.

“Excuse me,” you mumble, and you push your chair away from the table. Immediately, the conversations stop and all the men stand again. It’s too much attention on you and you hurry out of the dining room as fast as your heels and dress will allow. You’re stumbling over yourself by the time you get back to your suite on the third floor. The door slams behind you and you collapse onto the floor beside the bed, too overwhelmed to even climb atop the oversized mattress. You’re on the verge of tears when there’s a soft knock from the door, and that rips a sob from your chest that you hadn’t expected.

Immediately, the door opens and James is standing in the open space, a dark look on his face. You sob again and scramble backwards until the edge of the bed frame is digging painfully into your spine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

You swallow hard and take several gasping breaths, trying to control yourself. Your mind is spinning with insults, calling you weak and pathetic, and you believe every one.

“It’s just too much,” you answer through your tears. “I don’t want this!”

James huffs. His angry expression has faded, now replaced with something more akin to irritation. “And you think I do?”

You shake your head. “Of course not.”

“These are the cards we’ve been dealt, doll. You’re gonna have to get over it. Let’s just get married and then we can live happily ever after in a big house where we never have to see each other. I’ll do what I want and you can do what you want. Sound like a plan?”

You look down at your hands. A big part of you wants to say that no, it doesn’t sound like a plan. You don’t want that life. You don’t want a house so big that you practically need a golf cart to get from one side to the other. You don’t want a husband who ignores you in favor of his blood money or his side chick or the next shiny toy off the black market. You don’t want James.

Though every part of you is screaming the opposite, you nod. He crosses the room and you inhale sharply to steady yourself as he approaches you with no care. His black dress shoes are tracking dirt across the rug. James holds out a hand to help you up and you take it. The heirloom ring on his right hand digs into yours until you’re standing, and then he drops your hand like it’s on fire.

“We need to go back,” he tells you, and you nod again. “Our parents are pissed.”

“Of course they are,” you mumble. 

James pauses, staring at you critically. You’ve been staring at the baseboards since he helped you up, but when he doesn’t move or speak, you glance upwards at him. He’s got one eyebrow raised. His expression is thoroughly unreadable otherwise and an unsettling feeling blooms in your stomach.

“What?” you ask. You step back a little, but there’s no place to go except up against the bed again.

He shakes his head at you. “Nothing. Come on, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch your nose. “Anything but that.”

“Sugar?” he offers, and when you shake your head, he sighs. “Well, what do you want me to call you, since you’re suddenly the one calling the shots?”

His words cut deep and you look back down, hating the way shame immediately pools in your belly. How could he seem angry and irritated with you, then borderline kind, and then completely disinterested in your feelings the next? It’s disorienting, and you don’t need that on top of everything else.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”

Grabbing your arm in a grip just bordering on painful, James pulls you out of your bedroom and back down the hall. He holds on as you stumble behind him in your heels. When you reach the ground floor hallway again, he drops his hand and offers you his arm. You’re hesitant to take it, but he sighs a little and you decide that it’s easier to give in than to put up a fight.

The two of you walk back into the dining room and the conversations immediately hush. James leads you to your waiting seats, pulls out the chair for you, and then helps you scoot towards the table again once you’re seated. As he takes his spot beside you, your father speaks up.

“Have you and James discussed when you’ll be getting married?” he asks.

You pick up your fork and stare at the strange food on your plate, ignoring him. Though your stomach is churning, you force yourself to take a bite. He can’t expect you to answer while you’re chewing—it would be bad manners.

“Next spring,” James answers. “In the rose garden.”

You want to spit on the roses. You swallow your food instead.

“Good choice,” Mr. Barnes agrees. He turns his attention back to your father. “Your daughter is quite the well-behaved woman. She’ll do well with our James.”

Beside you, James tenses again, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. You glance at him, holding your breath, and wait until he relaxes again to take another bite of your food. 

The rest of the dinner passes with mundane, meaningless conversations. Nobody addresses you for the remainder of the meal, not even your parents, and finally the men begin to make their way out of the dining room to an adjoining room. You hadn’t even realized there was a room connected; the door is hidden amongst the paneling and crown molding on the walls.

“You can’t go in there.” James grabs your wrist as you stand to follow the group of men into the new room. His voice isn’t malicious and his grip isn’t tight, but you flinch away from him anyway. It’s only then that you realize the few women that had been in the room are leaving through the door to the hall with their wineglasses in hand.

“Because I’m a woman?” you counter.

“Because you don’t want to hear the things that they’re going to discuss,” he answers. He tosses his napkin on the table and stands, towering over you. After a long second of eye contact, he steps away from you and heads towards the men.

You watch him go and silently weigh your options. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even thought about following the men into the second room. You would have simply taken the same path as the other woman, though your wine would have continued to remain untouched. Now, however, with your wine in hand, you stood at a crossroads. You could go into the room and potentially face the wrath of your father, James, and George Barnes, or you could live forever curious as to what was actually being discussed. 

With your mind made up, you down your wine, step around James, and head through the open door into the room. It’s a study with dark wood paneling on the walls, leather couches, and stale cigar smoke in the air. As soon as you enter, the laughter and conversation stop and all eyes land on you.

“Y/N, you should be with Winnie and your mother,” Mr. Barnes says, stepping towards you. James is behind you now and though you’re hedged in, you simply lift your chin at the older man.

“Why? Am I not allowed to know what family I’m marrying into?”

His face darkens. “Girl, I’m warning you—”

“Don’t speak to my wife like that.” James’ voice from over your shoulder startles you and you quickly turn your head, looking back at him with shock. 

Why is he suddenly standing up for me?

“Hold your tongue, James,” his father snaps. “You aren’t married yet, and Y/N needs to learn her place. One would think her father would have taught her better, considering the problems his wife caused.”

Though you hate your parents for what they’ve done to you, your blood boils at the insult. Your anger rears its ugly head even more when you realize that your father doesn’t look intent on standing up for you or your mom, either.

“That’s enough!”

You swear the room rattles around you when James shouts and you grit your teeth, furious at Mr. Barnes. How dare he insult your father? How dare he talk to you and his son that way?

James grabbing your hand shocks you back into reality. Once again, his grip is almost painfully tight, but you force your face to reveal nothing.

“Y/N and I are going out. If I so much as hear that you’ve said a single thing about her in my absence, you will regret ever giving me any kind of power in this business,” he growls. “The next time you see her, I expect that you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves.” 

The men stare at you and James in disbelief, and then you find yourself being practically dragged out of the room. You’re too stunned to fight back, so you let him pull you across the ground floor of the estate to a door only two down from the dark room where you’d hit the morning your parents had left you behind.

“We’ll have to take the car, unless you’re okay riding the bike in that dress,” James says, pushing open the door. He doesn’t look back at you as he speaks, and it takes you a second to realize he wants a response.

“Car,” you answer after a few seconds. “Please.”

The room James has led you to is a massive garage, stretching farther than you ever realized a similar room could. Three of the walls are made of light gray cement, as are the floor and ceiling, and the fourth wall is made up of windowed garage doors, each one big enough for several cars to drive through simultaneously. Running down the center of the rectangular garage, there is a row of seven parked cars, with enough space to fit at least another car between each one, and beyond that, you can see a row of several motorcycles parked in a similar manner. The cars are in varying shades of gray and black, with the exception of one red sports car at the far end of the group. You can’t see the bikes well enough from the door, but you catch glimpses of blue, silver, gray, and black.

Four enormous, black and silver tool chests are lined up against the wall facing the hoods of the cars, but there isn’t a spot of oil or dirt in sight. You don’t even see any loose tools or equipment. Looking around, you wonder if the tool chests are just there for decoration, or if someone on the estate actually works on the cars and motorcycles.

Maybe James works on them?

“Are all of these yours?” you ask, unable to help yourself. He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy driving around for fun, and he’s just mentioned something about a bike. You stare at the side of James’ face as he plucks a set of keys off a black pegboard on the wall. There’s a button embedded in the wall beside the board. James pushes it with one thumb and the keys in his hand bump against the wall.

One of the garage doors near the last few cars starts to roll upwards onto the ceiling, revealing the outside of the estate. The sun has completely disappeared from the sky, and the moonlight is blocked by the clouds you’d seen rolling in earlier in the afternoon. The leaves of the large shade trees that surround the estate and form a protective shield from the outside world rustle in the wind. Crickets and cicadas chirp, reminding you of the cool spring nights you’d spent on your family estate as a little girl. You’d run around in the grass near the garden while your mom or your nanny watched you. Sometimes your father’s men would watch from the perimeter of the property, and when you’d wave, they’d wave back, asking what you’d done that day. You always answered them, even if you knew it would get you in trouble. They never stopped asking either, even if it got them in trouble, too.

You stop walking and close your eyes, then breathe in deeply as the night air rushes into the garage. It’s the first time you’ve been even close to the outdoors since arriving at the Barnes Estate. Your skin is still warm from the stifling dining room and the anger you’d felt in the men’s study. The breeze is a blessed relief, even if you do shiver after only a moment. Goosebumps form on your exposed skin—the dress Marta had picked out for you did little to keep you safe from the elements. 

James keeps walking down the aisle formed by the wall and the front of the cars, though you hear his footsteps pause a few moments after you stop following him. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You’re a little surprised that he’s not demanding that you catch up. When you open your eyes, you immediately meet his gaze, and a weird feeling bubbles up in your stomach. The expression on his face betrays little, but his stare reminds you of the way your father’s men looked at you all those years ago—interested and almost fond, but ready to push you away at a moment’s notice. You nod and hurry to catch up with him.

Once you get closer, James presses a button on the key fob in his hand. One of the cars in front of the open garage door rumbles to life. The sound it makes is a low purr, almost seductive, and you raise an eyebrow as James approaches, then runs his fingers over the hood. Even if the others aren’t, this car has to be his. It’s a sleek black, with dark tinted windows and a gleaming silver grill in the front. The BMW logo shines proudly in the center. It looks like a car your own father would own. Though you know he’s never owned a BMW, if this car is anything like the ones in your father’s fleet, you know that the inside will be as much a picture of luxury as the outside.

You slide into the passenger seat when James opens the door for you, and in the time it takes him to cross around the front of the car to the driver’s side, you take inventory of the interior. It’s a manual transmission—something your father once said was obsolete, except for car collectors and enthusiasts—which means that you wouldn’t be able to drive it, even if you tried. The car is pristine, so much so that you’re afraid to move. Two water bottles are in the cupholders, and it still smells brand new inside. There isn’t a speck of dirt or dust on the dashboard, nor on the floor mats. The leather seat is soft and there’s a control for seat warming and cooling on the control panel.

James climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He buckles up and you follow his lead, and then you sit back as he reverses the car out of the garage and onto a winding driveway that leads you around the front of the estate, then along the other side to a large gate with a guard house. You’d forgotten about the extensive security since the last time you’d been outside the Barnes Estate. Your father had handed over your driver’s license, along with his and your mother’s, before breakfast all those weeks ago, and there’d been a strange code word of some kind. It dawns on you as the guard opens the gate for you and James that you’d never gotten your license back.

“Where are we going?” you ask as James pulls onto the main road. It leads away from the estate and into the city. 

“To get some real food,” he replies. His tone is gruff, and it feels like he’s on the verge of an angry outburst, so you slump back in your seat as he shifts gears and the car accelerates. The tension in the car is thick. You don’t want to be the one to deal with it, especially since he’s the one creating it.

After several minutes of watching the enormous mansions and the forests surrounding them pass by, you look over at James again. His expression, just like in the garage, reveals nothing, but you can tell that he’s more put-together than the last time you’d interacted, and it’s not just the tailored suit. His hair has been trimmed and styled, and he has an even dusting of stubble that frames his jawline nicely.

In the time since you’d learned you were engaged, James hasn’t said anything to you. You’ve heard him talking in the hallways as you wandered, but you haven’t wanted to be near him. This is the closest you’ve ever been. Your brief conversations so far tonight make up the majority of the words you’ve spoken to each other. His words from the bedroom echo in your head, until finally, you can’t help but blurt out your thoughts.

“Do you really not want to marry me?” you ask. Your voice sounds small and pathetic, and you hate it, but it’s too late now. 

He glances over at you with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. “What do you mean?”

You sit up a little in the seat, though you keep your hands in your lap and you try not to move your feet, just in case there’s dirt on your shoes.

“I mean,” you say, watching him carefully for his reaction, “that when you came to get me upstairs, you said you didn’t want to marry me. Is that really true?”

“I never said that.” He shifts gears again as you near a stoplight, and the car slows. 

“Yes, you did.”

“No,” he shifts again, his teeth now clenched, “I didn’t. I asked if it looked like I wanted to marry you, and you said it didn’t. But I never said I didn’t want to.”

Now you’re confused, and you frown at him, ignoring the obvious irritation in his voice. The car rolls to a stop behind a Ferrari blasting music out the open windows. 

“So you do want to marry me?” you ask. 

He sighs and drops his hand from the gear shift, then looks over at you. “Y/N, I’m not going to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, so if this is you testing to see how I’ll treat you, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not a monster.”

“It’s not. I just…” You stop, unsure of how to phrase what you’re feeling. It’s strange to be upset over a marriage you don’t even want, but for some reason, you are. 

“What?”

“If you don’t want to marry me and I don’t want to marry you, then why are we going along with this?” you finally ask, settling for the bigger question than the one that’s truly nagging at you.

“Because we know that if we don’t, life will be hell,” he answers.

It’s the truth. You know it is, and you know it deep down. If the two of you refuse this marriage, your life will be worse than you could possibly imagine, and you’re fairly certain that your fathers will find a way to make it happen anyhow. They’re well-connected in every sphere of life, not just when it comes to drugs and weapons. Your father probably has a priest on his payroll.

The light turns green and James moves the car forward again, merging into the right lane almost immediately. He slows as you approach a valet stand outside an upscale bar you’ve never heard of. It’s not one of your father’s, which means it probably belongs to George Barnes.

Then again, you think as a uniformed man opens your door, maybe it belongs to James.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Barnes,” a valet on the other side of the car greets.

James hands him the keys. “You too, Tommy. Listen, don’t park it too far off. We’re not staying too long.”

The man nods and climbs into the driver’s seat as your own valet leads you away from the curb. James meets you next to the valet stand and offers you his arm, then heads towards the doors.

“What is this place?” you ask as he holds open the door for you.

“My friend’s bar,” James says.

Your stomach twists itself in knots as heavy club music starts to get louder. The bass rumbles in your chest and you dig your nails into his arm as you near a set of glossy black double doors. You haven’t been to a club in a long time. The last time you’d gone, you’d been dragged by a childhood acquaintance, but you’d spent most of the night alone after she’d ditched you for someone she met on the dance floor. You’re not particularly eager to relive that experience tonight, especially with the man you’re being forced to marry. Who’s to say he won’t ditch you for someone else right in front of you, just to rub it in your face? After all, he’d said it himself in the bedroom—you’ll do what you want and he’ll do what he wants. It’s the cards you’ve been dealt.

If these are the cards, then I’ve got a sucky hand.

“James—”

“Bucky.”

You stop and squint at him in the low light of the entrance hallway. The two bouncers in all-black suits stop with their hands on the door handles, ready to open them for you once you start walking again. The music pounds in your ears, so much so that you can feel your eardrums vibrating.

“What?” you ask, not sure you’d heard him correctly.

“Bucky,” repeats James, a little louder this time. “You should call me Bucky, if we’re going to be married.”

“Is that… a nickname?” 

Even in the darkness, you can see him laugh, and a bashful, boyish smile spreads across his face. “My middle name is Buchanan. Steve used to tease me about it when we were kids, and he started calling me Bucky as a joke. It caught on.” He shrugs it off, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his childhood friend, and it makes you smile just a little.

You loosen your grip on his arm. “Okay then. Bucky,” you add.

When Bucky steps forward again, the doors are pulled open, revealing a much more casual bar than you could’ve anticipated. Though it’s clean, it looks a little run down, and the heavy music fades into jazz piano as you step through the open doorway and into the large, open space. With almost cathedral-height ceilings, walnut floors and support pillars, and well-worn wooden booths and tables, the bar feels more homier than you’d expected. It’s clearly been well-hidden from the busy crowds of New York. Only a few patrons are scattered around the room, sitting in the booths or at two-top tables, but Bucky leads you to the wood, u-shaped bar that juts out into the room from the back wall. A single man stands behind it, drying glasses with a white bar towel. He smiles when he looks up and sees you approaching.

“Bucky,” he greets, and he reaches over the bar to pull Bucky in for a hug. It’s the first time you see Bucky smile—a real, full, genuine smile—and you watch in silence as he hugs his friend.

“Steve,” Bucky replies. Instantly, your brain starts connecting the dots. This is his childhood friend, the one who gave him his nickname.

“Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil.” Steve turns his attention to you, and you quickly look away from Bucky and at him. Your brain whirs as you try to place the language he’s just spoken. It’s not one you’ve heard before, which means none of your father’s men speak it, and neither do any of the Barneses.

“You must be Y/N.”

You nod and offer Steve a small, polite smile. You’re not sure how to act around Bucky’s friends. If they’re also part of the mob, it’s possible they’ll treat you even worse than George Barnes had after dinner, but a new, surprising voice in your head argues that Bucky would never be friends with someone like that.

“It’s okay,” reassures Bucky. He reaches out and touches your arm, gentler than he has all evening. “Steve’s a nice guy, and he knows about our family businesses. You can trust him.”

Steve looks between the two of you before picking up a glass and setting it right-side-up in front of you. “What’ll it be, Y/N?”

You glance at him, then at the wall of liquor behind him. After a moment, you list off a drink that’s not your favorite, but that you know you’ll be able to stomach no matter the circumstances. Steve nods in response before starting to make it.

Silently, Bucky takes one of the chairs at the bar, and you do the same. He sits with his arms folded on the counter. He’s still wearing his suit from dinner. You feel a little out of place in your fancy clothes, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Your drink is placed in front of you a moment later, and after Steve’s silent prompting, you take a sip. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Aha, I’ve still got it!” Steve cheers, and you laugh. He grins at you, a charming type of smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You feel a little sheepish at the intensity of his joy, and you fidget in your seat, then with your hair.

Beside you, Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a round paper coaster at his friend. “Knock it off, Rogers,” he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girl. You’ve already got one of your own.”

You glance over when he calls you that, but you don’t say anything. There’s another weird feeling in your gut now. This one, unlike the one you’d had in the car or the fluttering feeling Steve had given you, you recognize immediately—pride. It feels good to have Bucky call you “his girl”, even if you barely know him. It’s strange, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat again. You drop your hand down to the bartop and take another sip of your drink, trying to quell the strange feelings inside of you. 

What is going on with me? Why can’t I just feel normal about all of this? Is there even a normal way to feel about this?

“You hungry?” asks Bucky, and you nod when you realize he’s talking to you again.

“I make a mean twice-baked potato,” Steve says. He plants his hands on the bar to look between the two of you. “Whaddaya say, Y/N? You up for it?”

“Only if you put the jalapeños on the side this time, punk,” Bucky tells him before you can reply. He seems to remember himself a second later, however, because he looks over at you. “Unless, of course, you want them on top.”

You shrug, not wanting to upset anyone, and Steve groans.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he smiles wide as he gestures around the almost-empty bar. “I’ve got all the time in the world to make your food exactly the way you want it. Don’t make me guess.”

“He’s bad at guessing,” Bucky chimes in.

“Terrible,” Steve adds, nodding earnestly.

Tentatively, you list off what you want, and Steve makes a note of everything on a notepad that seems to appear out of nowhere. Once he’s got your order down, he disappears through a door in the back wall. Before it closes, you catch a glimpse of a shining kitchen filled with stainless steel, and you wonder how many patrons come through the bar if Steve has what looks to be a full-sized kitchen in the back.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you someplace that actually has good food,” Bucky says. He reaches across the bar to grab a bottle of beer Steve has left out, and he uses one hand to pry the top off. 

You gape at him, too distracted by the blatant show of strength to properly process the very thoughtful thing he’s just said to you. “What?”

“I said that you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured—”

“You just pulled the top off like it was nothing. How did you do that?” You look around on Steve’s side of the bar for another bottle, hoping to try your luck. Maybe it’s some new kind of bottle that he’s trying out before it hits the market, or maybe Steve has bootleg beer with a different kind of cap.

Bucky is staring at you, seemingly just as confused as you. “With my arm.”

“With your arm?” you repeat. You’re certain that he’d used his hand to pry it off.

He stares at you for a second longer before the confusion disappears and is replaced with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It makes the shadows on his face melt away a little, and his blue irises seem bright and youthful again, entirely unlike a man who’s seen too much.

“My arm,” he reiterates, and then he pulls off the black glove you’d assumed to be part of his personal style. It’s not just for show, however, because he pulls it off to reveal a black metal hand with dull gold knuckles. Bucky continues, standing and shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeve of his button-down shirt. As he reveals more and more, you realize that the black metal continues, making up what would be his left arm.

No wonder it hurt when he grabbed me.

“It’s metal,” you dumbly say, and he snorts.

“Observant.”

You shake your head and look from his arm to meet his eyes. “You have a metal arm. How didn’t I know that?”

Bucky shrugs and drapes his jacket over the back of the chair. He leaves the glove on the bar where he’d first set it down. Once he’s seated again, he rolls up his other sleeve to match.

“Beats me. I figured everyone knew. My dad wasn’t subtle when he was bragging about the arm he had made for me when it first happened,” replies Bucky. He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs and sets it back down.

You don’t want to pity him, so you try your best to school your expression by taking a sip of your own drink.

“Was it an accident?” you ask after a minute has passed. He doesn’t reply right away, and you scramble to save the conversation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen,” he says, and his voice is quieter than before.

You look back down at the drink in front of you. Twisting the glass around and around, you ask, “And it was an accident?”

Bucky takes another swig of his beer. “I was with my dad, working a job. I didn’t even realize I’d been injured until I woke up in the hospital, two weeks later, missing an arm. Apparently, falling shipping containers are heavy.”

You can’t help but curse. What he’s describing sounds horrible, but Bucky only laughs.

“That sounds about right, yeah. I’m lucky I had Steve around to keep me sane,” he tells you. “My friend Sam was a big help too, but he moved down to Louisiana a few years ago.”

“Steve seems like a good friend,” you agree. “They both do.”

You can feel Bucky staring at you now, and you take a sip of your drink while you wait for him to look away again. When he doesn’t, you glance in his direction.

“What?” you ask.

“What?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are!” you laugh, and you look at him fully this time. Bucky’s grinning, and you ball up a cocktail napkin and toss it at him.

“Okay, I was staring,” he admits, still smiling. “But I can’t help it. You’re pretty, and you’re nice, and you seem smart.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, and you look away. “You don’t have to say that. We’re already engaged.”

“I’m not saying it because we’re engaged. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Steve comes out with two hot plates. He places them in front of you, joking briefly about giving you the wrong order, and it’s distraction enough that you sit up tall and smile wide. You push Bucky’s compliment out of your head as you chow down, groaning and moaning about the potatoes. They’re exactly what you need after the stressful dinner. Bucky was right—you hadn’t eaten much, and Steve’s cooking is delicious.

Once you’re full, you push your plate away and lean back in your chair. Steve grins at you before he goes back to counting the cash drawer. The other patrons have left already, leaving you, Steve, and Bucky alone in the bar.

“That was amazing,” you tell him for the hundredth time, and Steve chuckles.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell mo bhean chéile—my wife—you said that, considering she still believes potatoes aren’t a meal.”

You notice the wedding band on his left hand as soon as he says it. Above it, also in silver, is a familiar ring. If you weren’t able to see the family crest, you would’ve thought it was the same as Bucky’s, but this ring has an eagle and a star engraved on it, rather than the wolf you’ve seen on Rebecca and Bucky’s rings.

“Potatoes are a meal!” you argue. You can tell that Steve has clocked you looking at his rings because he shifts his hand, instinctively blocking your view as he looks for your own ring. You’d taken your parent’s ring off the day you’d cried in the bathtub and you haven’t worn it since, but no one in Bucky’s family has replaced it with their own. It’s the first time since middle school that you haven’t worn a family ring, and you’d be lying if you said it was a weight off your shoulders. You’d thought it might be, but instead it just makes you feel naked.

Steve laughs and his posture relaxes. He stops hiding his rings from you when he realizes your hands are bare. “Well, whenever you meet her, you can have that argument with her, because I’ve already had it at least a dozen times.” He closes the drawer and fixes his eyes on Bucky, who’s just finishing his food. “Speaking of, when are you two coming over? I promised Peg I’d wait until Y/N had settled in to ask, and you seem settled enough to me.” He glances at you for the last part, and you look down at your empty plate.

“It’s not up to me,” answers Bucky. “We’ll come over whenever Y/N is ready. This is the first time we’ve been together since my dad dropped the bomb on us.”

Steve pauses, his hands on the tablet he’d set down before starting to count the night’s profits. “Wait. Really?”

You nod when he looks at you, suddenly self-conscious again, and you pull your hands into your lap. “I haven’t been the best house guest…”

“You’re not a guest, Y/N. It’s your home now, too,” Bucky interjects.

Reaching over the counter, Steve smacks the side of Bucky’s head. His accent is thick when he huffs, “Íosa Críost, you thick! You didn’t think to go talk to her? To see if she wanted to watch a movie? To see if she needed anything?”

Bucky stammers over in his seat, and you keep your head ducked to hide your smile. Clearly, Steve knows more about being married than Bucky does—most likely from experience, since he’s already mentioned his wife—and he isn’t afraid to tell his friend off for not looking out for your well-being.

“I’m sorry!” exclaims Bucky, ducking another hit. “I wasn’t thinking!”

“Like ifreann you weren’t!” Steve retreats and picks up the tablet with a huff, then looks at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him. He’s actually a nice guy when he’s not being stupid.”

“Stupid?” Bucky protests beside you.

“I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried,” you admit, finally looking up, “but it wouldn’t have hurt if he had.”

Steve nods, satisfied with your response. He leaves you a minute later when his phone rings. The wide smile on his face is enough to tell you who’s on the other end, but then he says her name as he walks away, the phone already held to his ear.

“So what’s with this place?” you ask. The quick change in subject is purposeful, and you hope that Bucky will take the bait.

Thankfully, he does. Bucky glances around before finishing off the last of his drink and setting the empty bottle closer to Steve’s side of the bar.

“Well, Steve wanted a place that we—and other people like us—could spend time without feeling like there was always a fight about to happen. We didn’t have that growing up, you know? And now that he’s in charge, he can do what he wants with his money. Everything’s filed properly, he doesn’t advertise, and all employees are paid above the table. If other people show up, then sure, they’re welcomed in, but they’re also fully vetted once Steve gets their IDs. Weapons aren’t allowed, and there’s no shop talk of any kind.”

“So it’s your little hideaway,” you say, propping your head up with one hand. The heaviness of the potatoes combined with the alcohol is starting to make you sleepy, and the emotional exhaustion from the night has started to weigh heavy on you, too.

He smiles a little. “Something like that.”

Bucky stands and rolls his sleeves back down, then pulls on his glove. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it on the bar.

“Come on, doll. We should head home,” he says.

The warm feeling you’d felt when Bucky had called you his girl comes back, and you smile a little when he holds open his suit jacket for you. A little sheepish at the gesture, you slide off your seat and let him help you into the sleeves, then take Bucky’s hand when he offers it.

“Bye Steve!” you call, waving with your free hand.

Steve looks up from the other end of the bar, where he’s wiping down a counter with one hand and holding his phone with the other. He lets go of the rag to wave back.

Silently, Bucky leads you out to the front, where the valet already has his car pulled up. You’re not sure how they knew to have it ready, but you don’t dwell on it. Stranger things have happened in your world. Bucky tips the valets with another wad of cash before opening the passenger door and helping you in.

You fall asleep on the drive home. You don’t mean to, but Bucky turns on the radio a few minutes into the drive, and he lets the first station that comes on continue to play. The music is soft, and he drives so smoothly that it lulls you to sleep before you’re even fully out of the city.

When you wake, it’s because Bucky’s stubbed his toe on something, jostling you in his arms. He’s muttering curses under his breath and hobbling down the hallway, and though the jerking motion and his tightening grip isn’t the most comfortable for you at the moment, you keep your eyes closed and force yourself to keep your smile at bay. Bucky is a much sweeter guy than you’d first thought him to be, and it seems like he’s trying now to make up for lost time. You’d misjudged him at first; just like you, he has his own ways of dealing with the life forced on him by his parents, but he really is a gentleman underneath it all.

He carries you to your bedroom and carefully lays you on top of the covers. Then, as gently as possible, you feel him lift your foot and pry off the uncomfortable shoes Marta had picked out for you. Bucky stays totally silent as he takes the shoes off and sets them on the floor at the end of the bed. He pulls a thin blanket over you, one that you’re sure is just for decoration when the bed is made, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. You have to force yourself not to smile when he whispers,

“Goodnight, sleep tight.”

The door clicks shut as he closes it slowly, and you peek open an eye after a few seconds have passed. Your room is dark and empty. Silently, you smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, your eyes heavy. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and you’re happy to be in bed. You fall asleep to the sound of spring rain on the estate windows and with Bucky’s jacket still wrapped around you.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky slowly enters your life in both big and small ways. He smiles at you over meals in the dining room and late night snacks in the kitchen. He drives you to the city to visit Steve, Peggy, and his other friends, and when he finds out that his father still has your license, Bucky argues with him for over an hour to get it back. Marta delivers your license to your room the very next day, along with a handwritten note that the dark blue Mercedes in the garage is there for your use. Sometimes, you wake up to a bouquet of flowers with another handwritten note. Sometimes it’s a text, and sometimes it’s a gift. Bucky develops a habit of purchasing anything you mention enjoying or even vaguely liking, and you eventually have to tell him to stop because he’s bought you so much that there’s nothing left to buy for yourself.

Bucky turns out to be a closer friend than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s kind, and funny, and intelligent, and he remembers all the little things about you that nobody else does. When you’re sick or feeling lonely, he’s attentive and his presence alone reminds you of all the good things in the world. He makes your days brighter, even the worst ones. You find yourself falling in love with him, much to your surprise. You admit this to him one day. He kisses you then, and he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first trip you’d taken to Steve’s bar. 

Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas roll around. New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and Easter come and go. The Barnes’ grand celebrations for every holiday blur together as the months fly by, until eventually, it’s June and you’re standing in your room, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The wedding dress you’d picked out a few days after Christmas is just as beautiful as you remember it being. It fits you perfectly, thanks to the impeccable work of several tailors employed by Winnifred, and your hair and makeup are flawless as well. There’s no possible way you could’ve imagined how beautiful you look and feel on your wedding day. 

Through the open window, you can hear a string quartet playing outside in the rose garden, where the ceremony is set up. Steve has already come by once to check on you at Bucky’s request, but both men are back downstairs. Bucky’s no doubt at the front of the garden with the priest—the one that you now know for certain is on your father’s payroll—and Steve is waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The only people remaining in your room are Marta, your mother, and Peggy. 

You’ve grown to love Peggy more than any of your childhood friends. She didn’t grow up in the same world as you. She didn’t even grow up in the same country, and you love her all the more for it. She’s rational, cool-headed, and kind, though she’s not afraid to stand up for what’s right. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. It’s easy to see why Steve fell for her during his time in the military.

The quartet finishes the song and moves onto a new one, one that you recognize after only two notes. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, gripping your bouquet tightly. It’s the song you’d been listening to the morning you’d found out about your engagement. You’d discovered it the night before, and you’d had it on repeat before going to sleep that night, then again that morning as you’d gotten ready. You’d even listened to it in the car on the drive from your parents’ estate.

Who added this to the playlist? Is this some kind of sick joke to them?

The same feeling of dread you’d felt that morning comes back, making your mouth dry and your head spin. You try to take a slow, deep breath to calm your nerves and block out the song, but it doesn’t work.

“Y/N?” Peggy asks.

You inhale sharply at the sound of her voice so close to you. She’d been texting Steve from near the window only moments before. You hadn’t thought that anyone would realize your distress, and you’d hoped to be able to collect yourself before it was noticeable. You hadn’t even sensed her coming closer.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, but your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers. You try to take another slow breath.

“What’s going on?” Marta asks. Her hand lands on your arm and you pull away, closing in yourself and pulling the bouquet tight against you.

Your mother’s scolding makes you feel like you’re a little kid again. “Careful, Y/N! You don’t want to ruin those flowers. We don’t have time to make another bouquet for you. George is already hounding your father about how soon after the ceremony you’ll be signing the certificate.”

Anger wells up in you at her thoughtless comment, and you open your eyes. She’s standing behind you in the main part of the bedroom, near the foot of your bed. Any guilt you might’ve felt over ruining the flowers is gone now, and you turn and chuck the bouquet at the carpet by her feet. It bounces once, then lays motionless in a heap of smashed petals and ribbons.

“Enough, Mother!” you shout.

Marta rushes to close the window so the guests in the garden won’t hear your outburst.

Your mother gapes at you, somewhat surprised, but she doesn’t budge. “Y/N, dear. What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” you yell, stepping closer. Your dress swishes as you walk, and you normally enjoy the sound, but you’re too furious to care how pleasing it is. “What are you doing? I am your only daughter! You should be treating me like a princess and worrying about how I’m feeling and what I need, but instead you’re too busy thinking about the damn flowers! I’m sick of you thinking of me like I’m an object you can sell, steal, and trade away whenever it’s most convenient! You and Dad are so obsessed with the timeline you’ve created for yourselves that you don’t even notice how much this has affected me! You didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted!”

She scoffs at you, and any trace of motherly care and concern has disappeared from her expression. Your mother is showing her true face—the mafia wife that has almost as much blood on her own hands as her husband does, if not more.

“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” she asks. She picks up her clutch from the end of your bed and steps closer until you're standing eye to eye. Her voice is patronizing and infuriating, and she continues, “It’s your wedding day, dearest, and you can’t back out now. We’ve made sure of it. Even James has agreed to the contract.” 

Your anger wavers. “Contract?”

“Yes, the contract,” she repeats, smirking. Her cards are all on the table now, and she’s got a winning hand. You both know it.

There’s a malicious glint in her eye as she says, “It’s already in effect. It has been since we agreed on the marriage.”

“What contract? What are you talking about?” There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, like your heart has decided to drop into your stomach, then down to your feet and through the floor. Bucky hadn’t said anything to you about a contract, and you trusted him, but you certainly didn’t trust your parents anymore, nor did you trust George and Winnifred Barnes.

Your mother smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that makes you want to puke. “That’s a conversation for another time. After all, it doesn’t even matter to you until James gets you pregnant.”

The alarm on your phone rings and you close your eyes, your hands trembling. You’d set that alarm to remind you when it was time to leave for the ceremony. Right on cue, the wedding planner knocks on the door to your bedroom.

“Y/N?” she calls, knocking again. “Are you ready?”

Slowly, you squat down and pick up the bouquet. It’s smashed on one side and the petals have fallen off of various flowers, but it’s mostly intact. It shakes as your hands tremble and tears well up in your eyes.

Marta appears in front of you, having pushed your mother out of the way, and over the ringing in your ears, you hear Peggy talking to the wedding planner. Somehow, you make it out to the ground floor of the estate, to the double doors that lead out to the rose garden. You’re dazed by your mother’s strange revelation. The sound of the alarm is still ringing in your ears. Peggy says something to you, but you can only stare straight ahead. 

Your father is next to you then, as Peggy disappears through the doors and joins the rest of the wedding party. You see her glancing back at you, and whispering to the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of them are Bucky’s friends who have now become your own, and all of them look worried. 

“Let’s go, princess,” your father says, and he pulls you forward by the arm.

Numbly, you follow his lead. Not even Bucky’s initially delighted expression shakes you out of your trance, but the way he rubs his thumb over your hands at the end of the aisle pulls you out of it just enough for you to lift your head and look around. You don’t remember walking to him, nor do you remember handing off your bouquet to Peggy, just like you’d practiced last night at the rehearsal.

“Y/N? Darling?” Bucky asks. He crouches and tilts his head slightly to try to catch your eyes. “You okay?”

“I—” Your mouth is still dry and you swallow, your eyes flitting from one place in the garden to another with no rhyme or reason. The world feels like it’s spinning and you clutch Bucky’s hands, unsure of what to do.

“Someone get her a chair,” Bucky orders, raising his voice enough that you flinch. He immediately starts murmuring reassurances to you, and he pulls you into his arms until he can lower you into a seat.

Someone fans you and a cool glass is pressed to your lips. You drink obediently, closing your eyes as the water helps the sandy feeling in your mouth abate just a little. When the water is gone, the glass is pulled away. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Bucky asks. 

Slowly, carefully, you nod your head. He sighs in relief and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling down in front of you. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is creased with worry. You’ve never seen him this stressed over anything and it makes you want to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, heat flaming in your cheeks. You feel horrible. Bucky has been looking forward to the ceremony—he’d told you last night at the rehearsal dinner.

“It’s okay,” he quickly replies. He reaches forward and takes your hands, and you glance away from him to peek at the guests, your parents included, who are still watching you from their seats.

“Are you ready for this, or do you need a break?” 

You look back at Bucky. “A break?”

“She’s fine,” your mother says, and you look over at her from your seat. She’s standing in the front row, her eyes fixated on the priest behind you. “They’re fine, Father. Y/N’s been a bit nervous all morning. Wedding day jitters, you know.”

“I—” You frown at her, still clutching Bucky’s hands. “That’s not what it is.” You look down at him and shake your head. “I’m not nervous to marry you.”

“I’m not nervous either,” he says with a small smile. 

“Then shall we continue?” the priest asks.

You turn to shake your head at him. “No. I’m sorry, Father. I need to talk to Bucky—James—in private for just a minute. Is that alright?”

He smiles gently and nods. “Of course.”

There are more agitated murmurs from the crowd, but you ignore them as Peggy, Steve, and Bucky help you up and back down the aisle. When your mother moves to follow you, she’s blocked by Sam and Clint, another one of Bucky’s friends. She calls after you once, but you ignore her as Peggy helps you onto a bench inside, then leaves, closing the double doors behind herself. She’s handed back your bouquet, and you clutch it with both hands like it’s an anchor in the storm.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks. He stands near the door, and you can tell from the way he rolls his shoulders that he’s stressed. His prosthetic always bothers him more when he’s agitated, and you suddenly feel even worse about stopping the ceremony.

“Yes,” you say, but then you shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not, or I wouldn’t have stopped everything. I’m sorry, Bucky, but I have to ask you something.”

“Okay…” There’s a wariness in his eyes, one that you loathe yourself for. You put it there, and you wish with all your might that your mother hadn’t told you what she did. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to do this.

“Did you sign a contract? With our parents?”

He frowns and his whole body grows very still. “A contract?”

You nod. “Yes.” With your hands still fisted tightly around the bouquet, you inhale deeply and add, “A contract about getting me pregnant.”

“What?” Bucky’s furious response is immediate. He shakes his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be making this up. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Did you sign a contract agreeing to marry me, and agreeing that my parents get something after you get me pregnant?” The words make you sick to your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything all day, which doesn’t help, but the thought of Bucky agreeing to something so vile… It’s enough to make anyone nauseous.

He’s shaking his head at you again. “Why the hell would I sign anything like that? Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrug a little and look down at the bouquet. “My mother…”

“Darling…” Bucky sighs and comes closer, and he kneels down in front of you again, just like he had outside. All the fight and anger has left his voice. “I would never do anything like that. Not in a million years, and especially not to you. I love you.”

“She said you signed it before they’d even told me we were engaged,” you said, quiet now that he’s so close. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, to see what his face might be telling you that his words aren’t.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, you lift your eyes from the flowers in your lap to meet Bucky’s eyes. They’re just as blue as the ribbons wrapped around the flower stems, a choice you’d specifically made without the wedding planner’s guidance. You’d wanted him to be your “something blue”, even if it felt a little cheesy.

“Do you want to marry me?” Bucky asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes.”

“Do you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that contract? That I didn’t know it existed?” he questions.

You nod again, tears forming in your eyes.

“And do you trust me to help you find a way to get rid of it, once all of this is over? Do you trust me to protect you?”

You nod for the third time, and Bucky takes both of your hands in his.

“Okay. Then let’s get married, and I swear to you that as soon as our honeymoon is over, the guys and I will start doing some digging.”

“What about me?” you ask, sniffling. You pull one of your hands away to dab at your eyes before the makeup can get too damaged by your tears.

“What about you?”

“Can I dig, too?”

Bucky chuckles and kisses your knuckles on the hand that he’s holding, and then he pulls himself up off the floor to sit beside you on the bench. He pulls you into a half-hug and you cling to him, sniffling and smiling as he rubs the your back and answers,

“You can do all the digging you want, doll. I’ll even hand you the shovel.”

Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil. = It’s good to see you.

Mo bhean chéile = My wife

Íosa Críost = Jesus Christ

Thick = A stupid person

Ifreann = Hell

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

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Forever: @aya-fay

Bucky Barnes: @lipstickandvibranium @valhalla-kristin @buckymcbuckbarnes

[auroralwriting]

Hi love! I’d like to request a mob!bucky fic where he is the man that runs New York and the reader is his wife who convinces him to let her start opening hospitals and homes for people in need etc. one of his rivals tries to take her while at a charity thing and calls Bucky weak and losing his touch so he literally destroys him to protect his woman.

I understand if you are too busy but would love ya forever if you could write what has been in my head!

guard dog

mob!bucky barnes x wife!reader

bucky doesn't take too kindly to people hurting his wife.

word count: 1.7k | warnings: violence, cursing, bucky having a sweet spot for his doll ♡

i wrote this one so fast. thank you for this amazing request!! i hope i did your vision justice!

Everyone knew of Mr. James Barnes. He practically ran New York with every politician pressed under his palm, along with every rich business man and woman wrapped around his little finger.

The one thing you needed to understand about James, Bucky, as his wife called him, was that you were never to be messed with.

To Bucky, you were the epitome of innocence. No one was allowed to lay a finger on you or say anything that could even potentially upset you. You were his world, and he made sure it was protected.

Of course, he was absolutely right. You were truly an angel on earth, the truest definition of kind. Little did everyone know, while they were wrapped around Bucky's finger, he was wrapped around yours.

"Bucky, you cannot kill someone on a Sunday," You'd gripe. "Sunday's are holy days, and the days I make my cannoli. You don't want cannoli?" Bucky would give in, rescheduling to fit your needs. "And see if that guy wants a cannoli, too. If I were gonna die, I'd sure as hell want a nice, homemade cannoli."

You practically controlled his every little move. You kept Bucky somewhat grounded for a mobster. You also made sure to keep him from disappearing off the face of the earth.

"Hun, you mom's coming over for dinner tomorrow- No, I don't want to hear it! Anyone who had the guts to raise you and not lose their mind deserves a nice, home cooked meal with her family. Dinner, six o'clock, be there."

Your latest topic, though, was helping people. You didn't give too much mind to the people Bucky worked with, but your mind was set on the homeless. Some news report on CNN had utterly convinced you that you needed to be the change in the world.

"Buck, please!" You begged, latching your hands onto your husbands arm. "This is my calling!"

A small grin formed on Bucky's face, "I thought your calling was to foster little orphans. Or was it to start an animal rescue. Oh, maybe-"

"James, I'm serious!" Use of Bucky's real name was a sign you wanted him to take you seriously. "Please, I just want to help the innocent people out there who don't have anything or anyone."

With your puppy dog eyes gleaming at him, Bucky knew he couldn't say no. "Alright, alright. But I get to choose the place since I'm buying."

A large smile erupted on your face as you leaped to hug Bucky. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, baby!"

Bucky's wide palms rubbed your back softly as he kissed your head. "Anything for my precious world."

And so, the hunt for the perfect shelter was in place. Immediately, you called some friends to bounce ideas back and forth off them. Eventually, you decided on the name Feast. Food, emergency aid, shelter, and training. It was everything anyone could ever need. It was perfection.

Even Bucky had to agree, it sounded pretty solid. He was amused at the acronym, enjoying the excitement your project gave you.

After a few months, Feast was nearly up and running. To gather attention, you decided to host a gala. Bucky helped you invite anyone and everyone important. You needed to get Feast's name out there, and the big people were who would do it. Secretly, Bucky only agreed because he knew he could.. convince the ones who denied to lend a hand.

The night of the gala approached. You sat with Natasha, as she finished putting on her makeup. "Natty, you look so pretty already."

"Yeah, but you know Steve likes the shimmer. I just want to add a little bit more," Natasha replied, referring to her husband, aka Bucky's best friend. It helped a lot that your best friend was married to Bucky's best friend. Natasha and you did almost everything together.

"Steve would like you if you wore a cardboard box," You groaned. "Come on, we're going to be late!"

Natasha laughed as she stood up, "Alright, alright! You, Mrs. Barnes, are going to have a wonderful outcome I hear."

Your heart leaped at her words. "Really?"

"Yeah, I heard anyone's who's anyone is coming." You squealed at Natasha's words and lead her down to the limo where Bucky and Steve were waiting.

The moment Bucky laid eyes on you, he felt like he was falling in love all over again. "Doll," He breathed out, holding your waist carefully with both hands. "You're an angel,"

You blushed at his words, "You always know just what to say to me,"

"That's why you married me," Bucky teased, knowing all too well there were too many reasons to name as to why you married him. He still felt so lucky.

"You both look amazing," Steve complimented. "But if we don't get going soon, we'll be late."

Quickly, the four of you shimmed into the limo, having some champagne and listening to soft music while you made your way to the gala. You'd left all the interior planning up to Natasha, who's taste was the best in all of New York. You trusted her with your life. After making your way into the hall, it was solidified once more that Natasha was incredible.

The hall was beaming with gold and silver, a soft jazz band playing and a bustling bar full of the most appealing looking drinks you'd seen in a long time. You gave Natasha a thankful look as Bucky began to softly pull you away. He'd spotted the Mayor, and he was itching to make conversation.

It was probably two hours of chit chat later and you found your feet aching from your insanely high heels. You leaned up to Bucky's ear, "Hun, I'm going to go grab a drink. Want anything?"

"Rum?" Bucky muttered back as you gave an eager smile.

You sat at the bar, ordering yours and Bucky's drink. After a moment or so, you noticed the presence of someone in the seat beside you who wasn't there previously.

"Mrs. Barnes," You looked over to see Brock Rumlow. He, too, was a mobster. However, he wasn't one Bucky or Steve were particularly fond of. You didn't even know he was invited tonight. "What a lovely event this is."

"Oh, Mr. Rumlow," You said with surprise laced in your voice. "Thank you, it took a lot of preparation."

"I'm just surprised," Rumlow hummed. "Such a.. charitable thing your husband is endorsing."

You shook your head, "It was all my idea."

"Of course it was," Rumlow bitterly responded. "Barnes' pretty little play thing wanted a new passion project to occupy herself. How expected."

You felt your heart pang at his words. "Oh," You stuttered, losing any sense of confidence.

"I got you at a loss for words?" Rumlow's voice was low as he began to lean over your figure. It felt daunting rather than sultry. It felt dangerous.

"Rumlow, please back up a little bit," You pleaded as Rumlow's smirk grew. "I don't have any space."

"That's the point, baby girl." He continued to prowl over you like a hungry beast, ready to pounce on its prey. For a moment, you felt overcome with fear. The way Rumlow eyed you made you wish you had worn a more conservative dress.

Before you could blink, Rumlow was pushed back harshly. It caused you to jump up and into someones arms. You didn't even need to question who it was; you knew Bucky's touch anywhere.

"What the fuck were you doing with my girl?" Bucky growled as Rumlow shook himself out of shock.

"Just making conversation," Rumlow dryly responded. "She's a joy to talk to."

Bucky scoffed, "It looked like you were about to drag her out of here."

"And so what if I was?" Rumlow challenged. "What would you do, huh, Barnes? You've gone weak, she's making you lose your touch. You're just her silly little guard dog. No one's scared of you when everyone knows that you'd never do anything to upset your precious-"

Before Rumlow could even finish his sentence, Bucky was on top of him, punches pushing his head back and forth, left and right. The sickening sounds of skin against skin was too much for you to bare, but luckily, Steve had come right on time. He was quick to pull you behind him where Natasha was waiting to hold you in her arms.

"Don't you dare call me fuckin' weak!" Bucky yelled. All eyes were on the scene unfolding.

The crack of Rumlow's jaw was not to be missed as Bucky's fist collided with it so hard you could've sworn Bucky broke some of his teeth. "You think you can come here to my wife's gala and try me?"

You wanted to stop Bucky, but you could tell that with his anger, thee was no stopping him until he was done. More sounds of cracking, Rumlow's howls of pain, and the blow's of Bucky's beatings were all that echoed in the hall.

After a few minutes, Bucky slowly stopped, panting as he leaned over Rumlow breathlessly. It was then you stepped in, running behind Bucky and putting your hands on his shoulders. "Buck, c'mon. Let me get you cleaned up." Blood was splattered on Bucky's face, his fists drenched in it. You nodded to Steve who, once Bucky was standing, picked Rumlow over his shoulder and took him out of the building. Natasha waved the band who began playing, and everyone fell back into conversation almost as if nothing happened.

Bucky and you were silent as the bartender handed you some towels to clean Bucky up. "Did you see any of that?" Bucky asked softly, his tone much different than a few minutes beforehand.

"Steve pulled me behind him," You answered, wiping off Bucky's knuckles. They were already bruising due to the beatings on them.

"Good man," He nodded, knowing that he would have done the same for Natasha. They protected each other's girls, always. "I'm sorry this happened tonight. I didn't mean to ruin the gala."

You chuckled, forcing Bucky to look up and around. "Look, nothing's ruined. You don't think these people are used to this stuff?"

Bucky gave a soft smile in return as his fingers fell across your cheek, softly rubbing it. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Endlessly protect and love me, to start." You cheekily replied.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, kissing you softly. "Always." He added as he pulled away. "Now, come on. I don't think we spoke to the Stark's yet."

[soap-brain]

i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

[whumpthemusical]

Whump: The Musical Prompts!!

As stated before, this challenge will run from March 1- March 31, 2024. All fandoms are welcome to participate despite it being prompts based off of musicals. Once again, all types of media are allowed. This challenge has the standard "choose one for the day" style, but feel free to do all three prompts if that's what you want to do!! All types of whump are allowed, but please be respectful to your fellow audience members and properly tag it!! Some of these prompts are sensitive, so make sure you warn your readers correctly! There will be an ao3 collection and an FAQ post coming soon, so if you have any further questions or comments about this challenge, feel free to drop me a line. Happy writing, my beautiful ingénues, and enjoy the show :)))

The prompts will be listed under the cut for those who have difficulty reading fonts!!

Cats- Sabotage • Second Chances • "I Can Dream Of The Old Days."

Wicked- Mob Mentality • Propaganda • "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished."

Jesus Christ Superstar- Whipping • Betrayal • "Then I Was Inspired, Now I'm Sad And Tired."

Les Mis- Survivor's Guilt • Failure • "Drink With Me To Days Gone By."

Heathers- Poison • Reluctant Whumper • "Wanna fight for me?"

Newsies- Chronic Pain • Exploitation • "Let 'Em Laugh In My Face, I Don't Care."

The Last Five Years- Infidelity • Gaslighting • "I Will Not Lose Because You Can't WIn."

Hadestown- Deals • Doomed Narrative • "Doubt Comes In."

Sweeney Todd- False Imprisonment • Razors • "Have You Decided It's Safer In Cages?"

Rent- Substance Abuse • Poverty • "Feels Too Much Damn Like Home."

Bare: A Pop Opera- Outing • Religious Trauma • "Please, See Me."

Waitress- Unplanned Pregnancy • Abuse • "She Is Broken And Won't Ask For Help."

Tick Tick Boom- Atychiphobia • Working To Exhaustion • "Is This Real Life?"

Dear Evan Hansen- Deception • Broken Bone • "Words Fail."

West Side Story- Star-Crossed Lovers • Prejudices • "A Boy Who Kills Cannot Love."

Come From Away- Stranded • Aftermath • "Blankets And Bedding And Maybe Some Food."

Spring Awakening- Withheld Information • Suicide  • "I Don't Scream, Though I Know It's Wrong."

Hamilton- Hurricane  • Dueling • "I Will Kill Your Friends And Family To Remind You Of My Love."

Falsettos- Sickness • Identity Issues • "Death Is Not A Friend."

Into The Woods- Blame • Lost • "Nothing But A Vast Midnight."

The Great Comet- Abduction • Letters • "Did You Love That Bad Man?"

In The Heights- Grief • Homesickness • "I Know That I'm Letting You Down."

Be More Chill- Mind Manipulation • Panic Attack • "Everything About Me Makes Me Want To Die."

Moulin Rouge- Class Differences • Sex Work • "Come What May."

Chicago- Cold Blood • Trial • "He Had It Coming."

Six- Execution • Trauma Bonding • "Playtime's Over."

Ride The Cyclone- Unexpected Tragedy • Forgotten Whumpee • "I Hear The Anguish Of The Street."

The Rocky Horror Show- Obsession • Wrong Place, Wrong Time • "I've Seen Blue Skies Through The Tears."

Nerdy Prudes Must Die- Bullying • Ritual • "Who Will Pray For You?"

Jekyll And Hyde- Duality • Good Vs Evil • "If I Die, You'll Die."

Phantom Of The Opera- Disfiguration • Shunned • "My Power Over You Grows Stronger Yet."

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 1

part 2

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

warnings: SFW, fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions/flashbacks to vinny's shitty childhood. jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, female rage, implications of academic pressure, middle child trauma, second person's pov (you, you're, your), ANGSTY, lowkey self-indulgent, SPOILERS everywhere, includes momma bear vinny but then reader is also kind of a momma bear, reader is NOT yumi, but yumi still exists here. lmk if i forgot anyth

note: i can't stop tossing and turning while reading s4 lol this is how i cope. vinny pls come back now im bawling my eyes rn

—

None of the recontres you had with Vinny Hong in the entirety of your life was normal.

The first time you encountered him was when you accidentally bumped into him in a vulnerable state while walking home under a light rain shower after a tiring day volunteering at the hospital your parents were working in. The light pouring rain hit your umbrella with soft thuds as you were finding your way through the alley you accidentally passed by after taking an alternative route, but getting a little lost in the process.

You shuddered when you heard a groan. You immediately looked around and kept your guard up in case it was a kidnapper. But no, it sounded like one of pain. Stopping your tracks and pulling over your feet, you looked around the alley. Your eyes expectantly scanned until your eyes found the source of the grumbling noise. There he was, slumped against the wall.

I knew it, you thought. It was a man. How cliché. His head was bowed down so he couldn't see you. Let me guess, a high school boy was mobbed and injured somewhere and now is left to die in a dark alley to be found lifeless once the sun rises?

You scoffed. If only you had all the time in the world to be a delinquent, that will most likely be where you're meant for. These high school boys are wasting their lives when they unknowingly have the time to choose to be a better person. You discreetly envied how these kinds of people can still choose how they'll live their lives, regardless of presence of sense for separating actions between good and bad.

And so you walked past the alley.

Your steps slowed down as the man groaned again, this time followed by a rustle. A slight pang of guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. Damn it, this wasn't–

You reluctantly looked back to where the man sat. You've always sworn your life you wouldn't meddle in anything that wasn't your business. But for some reason, the guilt of having the ability to help but refusing to, drowned your fixed principle.

Just as you were having an inner banter with yourself, your feet made the decision for you instead and took you to him. You pushed the button on your umbrella to automatically close it, pointing the sharp end to the stranger. You weren't even sure if he's still alive because he suddenly quieted down after that last groan. Only the light from the nearest post gave you an unclear sight of the man and the fluff of his fiery red hair.

One of his hands fell limp on the floor while the other was covering his wound. It seemed like he's been in the same spot for minutes yet the distinct bright colour of fresh blood told you the injury happened not very a while ago. You weren't sure of how to approach him properly, so you lightly kicked his leg once, but he didn't respond. So you kicked him for the second time, this time, harder. Finally, he responded by quietly groaning in pain once again.

“Who… the hell… are you…?” He weakly questioned as looked up to squint and take in your face, but your figure was against the light from the lamp post, so your silhouette was the only thing he's capable of registering. Even when in pain, his voice still sounded atrocious. Like he's someone used to speaking to people harshly. Luckily, you weren't intimidated for a single bit. It'll take a lot more than harsh tones to drive you away. You've been there.

You fumbled inside your tote bag to search for your phone, “Who are you to ask?” When you got ahold of your phone, you turned the flashlight on and you got a clearer view of the blood oozing out of this stranger's side, staining his hand in the process. It looked like a stab wound, judging from the volume of the blood oozing out from the wound.

“As expected.” You raised your hand to point the sharp end of your umbrella to him once again. “I will help you. But if you attempt to do anything funny, I'll stab you on your other side, too.”

Your first option as was to call immediate professional help. As you tried to dial the hospital hotline to call an ambulance, your phone kept indicating there was no service. The signal's jammed. You almost threw your phone to the nearest wall out of frustration as you hit the side of it with your palm. You side-eyed the man behind you.

Shit. Now what? This kind of stab wound is fatal, especially because he already lost plenty of blood beforehand. It wouldn't bleed that much if the penetration wasn't deep. It might have even hit a vital spot. Calling for help now will be difficult because of this deserted alley and the continuous pour of the rain didn't help either, plus, your phone has no service.

“I don't need… your help!” he glared at your silhouette and cursed himself as he shut his eyes tightly while attempting to sit upright, enduring the excruciating pain on his side.

“You're quite obnoxious for a dying man.” You looked around to search for more resources. This is a closed alley. If you leave him here for another minute to find help, he might completely lose his consciousness, he was already limp in the first place. You were left with no choice. Your hand hesitantly reached to fumble around your bag once again until you got an OS, gauze pads and sterilized medical stitching needles.

Your mother would be furious if ever she finds out you stitched a stranger's wounds. You can only imagine her yelling, "Patients are not your playthings and the Medical field is not your playground! Who are you to perform Medical procedures? You're not even a Doctor yet!" Yeah, for sure Dra. Jo wouldn't be so pleased to find out her daughter's attempt to fix someone up. You kneeled and looked at the stranger. You needed to gain his trust as professionally as possible.

“I won't ask your name since you're clearly hard to talk to. I'm [Y/N]. I'm no Guardian angel of yours. I do light voluntary work in hospitals and I have current trainings on how to attend to emergency patients. But I'm still a high school student so I'm not yet licensed. Anyway, going to a hospital will always be the safest option, but I have knowledge about stitching wounds, at least. I'm going to temporarily stitch you up so you don't lose more blood, then we'll get you to a hospital once I find phone service.”

You surveyed his overall state, he looked very pale, although it's easy to tell that he's naturally pale, by losing a lot of blood, he's getting even paler each passing second. You were running out of time.

“Do you consent to this?” You asked him calmly through your glasses.

He breathed out heavily. You knew he was wary and reluctant. Which is understandable. But if it's not you, who else will do it? You heaved a sympathetic sigh. As you unemotionally tell him about the circumstances of his skepticality, that you well acknowledge.

“Hey, you might have a family member waiting for you at home. They would be devastated to just hear from the news that you were found dispatched and lifeless out here in the morning.” you looked around, left and right. Right now, you're the best chance he has if he wants to live. “I won't force your consent out. I haven't touched you anywhere yet and I wouldn't if you don't want me to, so I can just leave you here without me being a potential suspect of your murder. But you should probably think about the ones that didn't know their last sight of you alive was the last they'll get, ever.”

He looks at you for a few seconds while he grits his teeth, before he slowly, lightly nods. Shutting his eyes and removing his hand from covering the wound, implying that he had put his trust in you.

You checked his carotid pulse first. Just as you thought. Erratic and weakened. And then looked over to watch the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders. Shallow breathing. He definitely lost a high volume of blood already. You hastily started disinfecting everything—your hands, the tools, even the gloves. You checked his expression. You gave him a heads-up before lifting the side of his shirt to attend to the wound properly. You began working up and stitching the wound on his right side. You looked at his face once again that's being covered by the shade of the unfinished constructions caging the alley, while going through your first stitch.

“I'm sorry, this is the only option, for now. I'll find more professional help after this.”

He had no more energy left to open his mouth and reply. He grunts in pain while you were busy ushing the needle through-and-through. You asked him to bite down on a cloth while enduring the pain, since you didn't have anesthesia and he can feel every poke of the needle on his skin. You stitched him with precision with your skilled hands. Your hands were painted crimson red during the process.

This wouldn't be your first time stitching. You've done this a couple of times, but only to a simulator. You pulled yourself together as you kept in mind that a person's life is in your hands this time.

While you were focusing on the stitches, all the stranger can muster are croaky groans, as the pain of the wound and the stitches stung, so you tried to do it faster. When you were done, while wiping your blood-stained hands, you noticed how his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was wincing in pain. He tried to look up at you again, but his sight of you was blurry.

“Don't worry, that'll be removed at once when you're taken to the hospital. What I did is only first aid, and you already lost a lot of blood so we still need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.”

You pushed your knees to stand up and find phone signal, but before you can, his hand rose and reached for yours.

“No.” He clutched your hand to stop you. His hand was rough—and also large. You have large hands for a female, but his hand almost completely enveloped yours.

The side of your lips shifted downward while looking down at him. “When I said trust me, I only meant temporarily so I can temporarily close your wound. I didn't mean with all your life."

“Just no hospital.”

“You must really want to die.”

He gripped your hand tightly from the severe pain he's enduring. You know how much pain he's going through right now and he didn't mean to do so, so you let him squeeze your hand.

“I would rather die, than pay a hospital bill.” he weakly held on to you, falling completely unconscious as his head fell on your lap. You furrowed your brows and put his head into a more comfortable position.

Oh, so he was serious on dying?

You coming to his rescue definitely doesn't just end with a few stitches.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

always remember to put seeking professional help as top priority if you ever encounter this kinda scenario irl

[amethysts-tavern]

Forgive my typos or grammar. Writing this one on my phone rather than the laptop.

Gale x gender-neutral bard reader. Gale needs some reassurance.

———

I choose you.

Every night before bed, you make the circle around camp to check in with your companions - to see if they need additional healing or want to talk about anything, maybe tell them that they did well in the day’s adventure or recommend some battle tactics.

This night in particular, camp is pretty quiet. It was an extremely rough day. Half of the party went down entirely while you and Gale were the only two who remained standing by the end, likely from staying back from the melee where you could cast your spells without fear of being run through with a pike.

Karlach thanked you for finishing the fight and helping to revive her at the end. She had done the most damage to the enemy, but had also suffered the most.

“That fucker just would not die!” she exclaimed rehashing her last few swings to you. “I’m glad you were able to finish him off.”

“Lucky shot on a dissonant whisper,” you tell her. “Had he advanced on me and Gale, we would have been toast. Thank goodness Gale thought to cast sleet storm, essentially holding those cultists at bay.”

“Yeah, that was amazing! Well, I hope you get some good sleep tonight. We all deserve it,” Karlach says before turning in.

“G’night, Karlach. Good job today.”

You make your way over to where Astarion is standing outside of his tent, staring up at the clear sky. He takes in a big cleansing breath as you approach.

“Enjoying the evening, Astarion?”

“You know, the one thing about being a vampire that never gets old is seeing the stars every night. It’s like a big comforting blanket in the sky.”

“I won’t keep you then. Just wanted to say good job today.”

“I was great, wasn’t I? I spilled so much cultist blood on the ice. Let’s do it again tomorrow. Tell Gale to have that spell ready,” Astarion says with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckle as you turn to move to Gale’s tent. You usually save his visit for last, sometimes staying the night with him in his tent. But he usually waits outside for you. Tonight, he’s not where you expect him.

You approach his tent slowly, listening hard to see if you can figure out why he didn’t wait for you, but the tent is quiet.

“Gale, are you there? Can I come in?” you ask in the voice reserved especially for him, softer and warmer than what you use with the others.

There’s no answer for a moment, but you do eventually hear a quiet, “you can come in.”

“Are you ok, love?” your concern apparent, as you enter Gale’s tent, only to see his back to you. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I’m… I’m fine,” he replies, leaving you convinced that he is entirely not fine. You step gently toward the wizard, trying to suss out what’s bothering him. You put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “What’s going on, hon? You know can tell me anything.”

There is silence for a moment and then he starts, “I’m not strong like Karlach. I’m not sneaky like Astarion. I couldn’t even help our friends when they fell,” he says just above a whisper. “I’m completely inadequate in battle. I don’t deserve to be in your party. I don’t deserve to be with you,” he hangs his head at the last part.

“What are you talking about? There’s a very good reason I choose to have you in my party every day. Your sleet storm was exactly what we needed in this battle! You slowed the enemies down so we didn’t have to deal with the entire mob at once! Without that quick thinking and spectacular ability, we would not have walked away with a victory.”

It was true. The giant mob of Absolutists would truly have done far more damage to your party if they advanced as a unit. But the moment they had to deal with a sheet of ice, they were sliding all over, not able to control their balance and landing on their backsides.

“And as for that last bit,” you say, wrapping your arms around the man that you love in a tight embrace, “I think I get to decide who is worthy of my affections. And I chose you. Brilliant, funny, loving you,” you punctuate the last sentence with kisses and nips at his neck. “And I will choose you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“But I could be so much more for you…” he starts.

You cross in front of him so that you can stare into his eyes. “Gale, I don’t want you to be anything else. I love you because of the man you are and how you make me feel. You are enough. In fact, you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a love. You are an honest and kind man. Your wit keeps me on my toes. You openly share your thoughts and feelings and listen to mine in return. I have never once doubted this relationship.”

You step in and give him another long, tender embrace. Your voice drops to a whisper, “And good gods! That thing you do with your tongue… it drives me wild!”

Finally, the corners of his mouth curl upward into a smile.

[mortalityplays]

It's obviously kind of an oversimplification to say Gomorra is 'about' homosexuality. It's about a lot of things. But it's also completely true and I would even possibly argue that it is the load-bearing point of the show.

On a macro level, the whole thing is about the endlessly bloody and destructive struggle of a life in organised crime. But even in that sense it puts a very specific thematic point on the way love, relationships and blood relations are constant casualties of this way of life, and the effect of that relentless human loss on the players who keep choosing war over peace. Ciro blazing his trail by killing women, children and parents specifically is not a 'kick the cat' villain beat, it's the whole point of the material. Genny being perpetually struck down by his own nuclear family because he is competition to them is part of it. Being in the life means eventually sacrificing those you love on its altar. You murder your wife, you send your son to die in the jungle, you send your father-in-law to prison.

As we absorb that, we're presented with this succession of queer characters living in the periphery of the story. One by one they're introduced to us, they explicate themselves as divergent from heteronormative sex and gender roles, and then we watch them die or disappear. It's heavily implied that the 'lesbian' from the tower blocks may be a trans man, but she doesn't exist in a context where articulating that is an option, and she dies in a white wedding dress inherited from her father. Conte's relationship with a trans woman can only exist behind closed doors. He dates her sister in public, he puts off introducing her to his mother, he appeals to his catholicism to distance himself from his own sexuality. Gege panics and folds because he's afraid for his boyfriend and his daughter. What do I care about the guy fucking you in the ass? Genny sneers, before he beats Gege to death with the watch that signifies his connection to a mob family. Much like the harrowing shit the show delves into around race, the message is 'there is no mercy here'. There is no oxygen for the articulation of queerness. It can only survive unspoken, in negative space.

And there's no argument that the show is about the negative space between Genny and Ciro. Neither of them know how to articulate their relationship. They're best friends, they're worst enemies, they grew up together, Ciro raised Genny, they're brothers, they're father and son. They use the word love. They also use the word hate. They come as close as anyone ever gets to putting bullets in each other's brains. They keep taking turns to ask each other can we do this now? and the answer is always not yet. Even when they're on the same side, they can only discuss the nature of their relationship by proxy, through their mutual relationships with others. Pietro is one. And I could write a fucking essay on the Enzo situation.

The negative space is physical, too. They hover around each other. They talk nose to nose. In the first season they can't stay apart, they grab each other, they pepper each other with kisses. After the life erases all of their visible human connections and sets them at odds, they're shot like orbiting planets. Empty space takes up entire frames between them. Ciro is fucking constantly looking at Genny, to the point that shots are composed around his furtive glances. After they finally reveal themselves to Analisa, Ciro catches Genny by the arm to pull him away from the meeting. That's not a gesture we ever see between other characters, especially in a context like that. They are constantly either 1 inch or 12 feet apart.

But most of all, there's negative space in the title. Gomorra. Yeah it's a play on Camorra. Don't worry about it. Don't think too much about it. Just ignore the primary association with that word that floats into your head when you hear it. It's absent from the show, right? It's absent from the life. This is a mafia show about two straight friends.

[laracrofted]

Blow the poppers, it's a NYE celebration!! ✨🪩

Love, love, love this idea and have so many blogs/fics I want to call out! As someone relatively new to this fandom it's been such a joy immersing myself in so much talent and some of the kindest people I've come across on the internet.

Fics/blogs I love and want to give the biggest smooch to for 2024:

@withahappyrefrain's Behave truly had me in a chokehold (haha punny) and I can never go back. Plus cute doggo pics!

@ohtobeleah's Vice is the gift that gives and gives and one of the fics that got me back into writing. The grazing boards and funny commentary are also gems.

@bobgasm's Kingpin is literally the bee's knees, I cannot get enough of Mob!Bob. Or of Steph's edits (although some may haunt me forever).

@bradshawsbitch's Son of a Preacher Man is one of the most beautiful fics, we live for Preacher!Rhett. Always happy to see Alex in my notifs!

@lewmagoo's Million Dollar Man is one of the best Rhett fics, it scratches a part of my brain and I could read a whole book specifically of MDM Rhett. Plus Leah gets the Lew brainrot!

@sebsxphia I can't even narrow down which of Seb's fics I loved most this year, we were blessed with quality content! Such a sweet presence in this fandom with the best drabbles.

@creatchie8's Yellow Soul is so, so good, between the tension, smut, and Perry Abbott slander. The way I become so immersed in the world is a treat!

@roosterforme's Old Habits Die Hard has made me into a Bradley girlie and I'm not even sorry. I've even started the sequel! She provides us so much free content every week, and is so funny, we are so lucky!

@ryebecca has THE best moodboards, I swear every single one I reblog and tag #moodboards i love. Because I love them all! If I had to choose, the Bob D&D board makes me giddy.

@bobfloydsbabe's Eccentric Professor Bob is incredible and I love him and I cannot wait for the next update! Helena is also the sweetest!

@sailor-aviator also got me on the Bradley train with her Tarzan!Bradley. It's hard not to fall in love with how endearingly Liz writes her characters!

So many other incredible fics out there, but pretty sure I've hit the character limit on asks 😂 so blessed to be in a fandom that continually kills it!

♥️

one thing i've discovered in this positivity night is that asks apparently don't have a character limit anymore ??? but you listed so many amazing authors, and i really have to second son of a preacher man (@bradshawsbitch), yellow soul (@creatchie8), and million dollar man (@lewmagoo). such great rhett fics!

end of the year positivity night 💌

[use-your-imagination98]

How to save GH

This is a tiny project that I've been working on. GH is in a bad place. It's stale. No romance. No intriguing stories. No heart. The focus is on characters no one cares about. So, I let my creativity run wild and create stories that use vets, legacy characters, and built on history.

This is pretty, pretty long. But this show has one million characters and needs a lot to fix it. If you take the time to read it, god bless you 😂

"TOXIC" CAST CULL

“Pikeman” decides to target all of Port Charles with a deadly toxin. TJ, Portia, Finn, Terry, and Elizabeth all work to create an antidote with help from Patrick and Robin via telephone. 

It is revealed that Pikeman is revealed to be an alive Lorenzo Alcazar who is intent on finally ending Sonny’s reign once and for all.

We see Gladys, Dex, Cody (who is revealed to not be Mac’s son), Willow, Sasha, Mason, Austin, Finn, Gregory, Diane, and Olivia each die from the toxin. After the 11 deaths, the hospital crew was finally able to create an antidote. The rest of the town is saved.

Gladys, Dex, Cody, Sasha, Gregory, Finn, Austin, and Diane’s funerals are off screen. The Quartermaine’s decide to have a double funeral for Willow and Olivia. 

Immediate aftermaths:

Stella and Marshall move to Arizona because Port Charles is too much for them

Hayden comes to collect Violet and move her immediately out of Port Charles

After losing her dear friend, Alexis is spurred to get her law license back.

ANNA, VALENTIN, AND A GROWN UP EMMA

Anna discovers that Valentin was responsible for setting fire to her house. She isn’t fully blindsided because she suspected her Cassadine lover was keeping secrets from her, but it didn’t stop her from being gutted. Robin and Patrick agree to allow Emma to finish college back in Port Charles to support Anna. Emma, desperate to discover why Valentin would destroy her grandmother’s house, starts investigating. 

During her investigation, Annie Donely returns to assist. They track Valentin to a secret meeting with Lorenzo. They discover that Lorenzo was threatening to kill Charlotte because Valentin was going to quit being his right hand man. Lorenzo did not want to reveal himself until he was certain he could take Sonny down for good, but Valentin’s closeness with Anna, who is close to Sonny, was becoming a problem.

Emma and Annie reveal to Anna their findings. Anna confronts Valentin with the discovered facts. He reminds her that they both agreed to kill one another if their children were threatened. She asks how he came to be Lorenzo’s partner. Valentin explains that it was motivated by just wanting money and power. But when he heard that Lorenzo was planning to attack Port Charles, Valentin wanted out. 

Anna declares that she will help take Lorenzo down for good, but they can’t tell Sonny because Sonny will have Valentin killed for his involvement with Lorenzo. Anna and Valentin, with some help from Annie and Emma, work to rid Port Charles of Lorenzo Alcazar.

However, their plans are spurred when Emma’s best friend from college, Lila Rae comes to visit Emma. It is revealed to Emma that Lila Rae is Alcazar’s daughter, which puts Emma in a tough spot: Does she stand by her friend or help bring down a mob boss criminal?

Cameron Webber also returns home after tearing his ACL. He enters into a love triangle with Emma and Lila Rae. Does he choose his old friend or the girl he was attracted to at school?

LULU RETURNS WHILE DANTE SPIRALS

Lulu wakes up from her coma around Christmas 2023. Laura rushes to the care facility with Kevin and Nikolas by her side. When Lulu is questioned about herself, it is discovered that she woke up thinking it is August 2006. She believes that she just turned 18, her mother is catatonic, and that she was never wanted. She is shocked to see her mother awake. Laura gently explains to her that it is 2023 and that Lulu is a 35 year old mother of 2. Lulu is shocked and scared that she can’t remember anything.

She is quickly released from the care facility and back home in Port Charles on New Year’s Eve where a clearly drunk Dante shows up to drop off Charlotte and Rocco at Laura’s.

Lulu has no recollection of Dante, the kids, or becoming friends with Maxie. She clings to her mom, Kevin, and Nikolas. Rocco and Charlotte are desperate to reconnect with their mother, but Lulu is very hesitant. WIth some advice from Laura and Maxie, Lulu begins to make inroads with her preteen kids. 

Dante, already messed up due to his mother’s death, goes into a deeper spiral at the return of Lulu. Sam is Dante’s voice of reason and after months of drinking him into a stupor and going on probation at work, she is able to get him to see that his drinking is becoming a problem and seek help. Once Dante gets clean, Dante proposes to Sam.

Sam, worried to go down the marriage path again, especially after the failed engagement to Patrick, initially says no. She is happy with the way things are with their family. Dante promises not to push but saves the ring in case she ever changes her mind. 

THE END OF ESME:

Esme is curious about her past. Thus, she continues visiting her mom, Heather, who spoon feeds Esme about her past with her adopted family. Heather reveals the truth: Esme killed her adoptive parents in a rage. The reveal sparks Esme’s memories before the second jump off the parapet to return. 

Laura and Kevin were able to find where Mason, Austin, and Cyrus were hiding Nikolas. Nikolas woke up shortly after they found him and he revealed that Ava was the one who struck him. The trio return to Port Charles with Laura vowing to never allow Ava anywhere near her family again. Nikolas agrees to not report Ava for the blow to the head if she returns Wyndamere to him. Ava agrees.

A returned Nikolas begins making amends with Spencer and Elizabeth for his actions. Spencer is wary of letting Nikolas in his and Ace’s life, but Trina is able to convince Spencer to give his father one last chance. Spencer moves out of Wyndamere and into his own apartment, but continues to have a large presence in Ace’s life to Esme’s chagrin. Ace’s time is split between Esme at Laura/Kevin’s house and Wyndamere with Nikolas.

Esme is angry with the overlooming presence that Nikolas and Spencer have over her son. She overhears Nikolas discussing getting full custody with Kevin, Spencer, and Martin. She hears Spencer reveal to the three men all the evidence of her crimes against Ava, Cam, Joss, and Trina to use against her in court. Esme rushes to Pentonville and vents to Heather. Heather conspires with Esme a plan of revenge against Spencer. 

Esme and Heather’s plan includes framing Spencer for small to large crimes. At first, it's a break in at Wyndamere where she steals a family necklace which ends up in Spencer suit jacket. She trashes Ava’s gallery and splatters paintings with fake blood, similar to Spencer’s first run in with Trina at the gallery. Spencer keeps getting arrested or questioned by the police, but Martin is able to defend him from charges being made. 

Esme is furious. The night before the custody hearing she picks a massive fight with Spencer on the docks. Spencer gets angry enough that he raises a hand to her, but never follows through. However, Spencer is caught raising his hand by Esme’s uncle, Kevin. She asks to speak to Spencer alone and Kevin takes the launch to Wyndamere to join Nikolas, Ace, and the rest of the family for dinner. When they are alone, Esme “apologizes” for picking a fight and gives Spencer a hug. He pushes her off and gets on the launch.

Esme returns to Laura and Kevin’s and gets busy bruising herself all over her body and rips her clothes (all with gloves on). When Laura and Kevin return home, they see a battered Esme with torn clothes. She cries that Spencer r*ped her and she wants to report it to the police. A piece of Spencer’s hair is found on Esme’s shirt and he is arrested and charged. Due to the charges against Spencer, the custody hearing is delayed and the normal custody schedule remains. 

Martin is unable to procure Spencer’s bail and release. So, Spencer is in prison until the trial. He gets visits from Nikolas, Laura, and Trina. He proclaims his innocence and they all believe him immediately. He wouldn’t touch Esme, let alone r*pe her.

Trina begs Taggert for help in proving Spencer’s innocence. They get Spencer to tell them his every step on the day Esme says she was r*ped. Meanwhile, Laura, Nikolas, and Elizabeth put their heads together and watch Esme’s every move. Kevin is torn. He wants to believe his niece, but knows Spencer wouldn’t do anything like that to anyone. 

Trina discovers that Esme never had a r*pe kit performed on her. All the police have is Spencer’s hair on her shirt. There is no proof that Spencer violated Esme. And Esme can not account for the time from the docks to when Laura and Kevin returned home. Laura is able to get Trina a private meeting with DA Robert Scorpio. Trina explains her theory: Spencer and Esme got in a verbal fight. Esme was either close enough to Spencer that a piece of hair fell on her shirt or she purposefully embraced him. Then, went somewhere private and bruised herself. She set him up. Laura is impressed and Robert agrees. He suggests that Trina forget art history and become an attorney. 

Robert questions Esme, who slips up when trying to retell her original story. She originally claims that Spencer r*ped her behind Laura/Kevin’s townhouse, but instead says he r*ped her in their townhouse. Robert arrests her for her false story of r*pe, as well as all the other crimes she framed Spencer for. She is sent to jail for 3 years. Spencer is freed. 

Soon afterwards, Trina visits Esme in Pentonville. Trina finally unleashes all her anger at Esme. Trina explains that she was sick of playing the nice guy to Esme just for a baby. But that time is over and Esme can rot in jail.

Spencer’s third stint in jail made him realize it is time to act on his feelings. He sets up a romantic evening at the gallery and finally proposes to Trina. Because of Portia's meddling, they elope with a returning Cam and Ava as their only witnesses. They get a romantic honeymoon.

Kevin, guilty that he could never save his brother, works on trying to save Esme through prison visits. However, when she asks him to help her remove Ace from Nik and Spencer's clutches by lying to a judge, Kevin refuses.

Esme is furious. She really believed that her uncle Kevin would help her no matter what, especially over helping Nikolas and Spencer, who are not his blood. Esme breaks out of jail and attacks Kevin at his GH office (similar to Carter and Lucy's attack on ER). Kevin is stabbed multiple times, but his biggest injury is Esme basically stabbing his throat.

Liz finds Kevin bleeding out and screams out for a doctor. While Deanna is prepping Kevin for surgery, Liz calls Laura. Laura, a returned Lulu, Martin, Lucy, Mac and Felicia wait for TJ to finish operating. Nik calls Spencer, who is on his honeymoon, to tell him about Esme's latest crime and Kevin's condition. Spencer and Trina rush home to be at Laura's side.

Kevin survives, but he will never be able to speak again. Dante and Jordan find Esme hiding out at an abandoned carnival and arrest her. After hearing from Martin that Esme has been arrested, Laura rushes to the PCPD to confront Esme. Laura finally tells Esme off (no more sweetheart here). Esme is jailed for life, but shows no remorse because she was able to take away something precious from Kevin like Ace was taken from her.

KEVIN’S SILENCE

This story spurs from the end of Esme. Waking up after his stabbing, Kevin discovers that he can’t talk. He, along with his friends and family, are told that the stab wound to the throat was deep. They had to remove his voice box. Kevin slips into a depression while dealing with the fact that he can never speak again. Laura and LuLu, specifically, start attending ASL classes with a disgruntled Kevin, so that they are able to communicate. 

Kevin’s thoughts get darker and darker. He then decides to take his own life. He rationalizes that without his voice, he can’t do his job or be the man that his wife, family, and friends need. There will be an entire special episode centered around Kevin writing his s**cide letter. Everyone else is silent. The only voice we hear is Kevin reading out his letter during his last interactions with those he mentions in the letter: Mac, Felicia, Lucy, his step kids/grandkids, hospital staff, and finally Laura. Laura finds him at home with empty pill bottles all around him and calls an ambulance.

Kevin survives but continues to be very dark and depressed, specifically towards Laura. Laura’s attitude that love can conquer anything angers him. The married couple have a harsh argument in the hospital room where difficult things are said. Lulu intervenes and is able to relate to Kevin: he lost his voice for good and she lost her memory for good. She convinces Kevin to give her mom a second chance once he gets to Shadybrooke for rehab.

After a month apart, Kevin asks Laura to visit him in Shadybrooke. They discuss his depression over losing his voice. She admits that she will miss his voice, but it's the person behind the voice that matters. They reconcile.

Kevin’s ASL teacher bonds with Lulu and they strike up a romance. We later learn that he is Kevin’s son from a one night stand before Kevin showed up in Port Charles.

NIZ REVIVAL AND LUCKY RETURNS

When Nikolas returns to town, he is set on making amends with the people he hurt, specifically Spencer and Elizabeth. Spencer is cautious to forgive Nik and allow him back in his life. Trina helps Spencer with his conflicting feelings over his father. Elizabeth reads Nik the riot act for leaving her high and dry. She explains that she almost lost her job for helping him keep Esme locked away. He apologizes and sends her an apology note everyday attached to her favorite flower. 

Elizabeth is touched and warns him that if he ever embraces his full Cassadine side again, she is done helping and protecting him. Nikolas, free from Victor’s grasp, free from Spencer’s rightful anger, and free from the blackmail Ava relationship, realizes that he still loves Elizabeth. He decides to embrace this new and improved version of himself and asks her out on a date. Elizabeth says no. Every time they get intertwined, they get in trouble. Nikolas argues that they were young and high on emotions. Nothing is holding them back. He will go as slow as she would like. But if he doesn’t try, his life would have a missing piece and be filled with regrets.

Elizabeth is touched and eventually agrees to a date. While she was expecting to be wine and dined, he took her to an art class and had pizza afterwards. Elizabeth was touched at his simplicity. He reveals that he has always loved her since they were teenagers and never wants her to change who she is for him. He would rather change to fit into her world than her changing to fit into his. They go back to Wyndamere and sleep together. 

When Laura gets re-elected as Mayor, a big inauguration party is thrown by Nikolas. Lulu decides to invite Lucky without anyone knowing, assuming that he would not show up. During the party, Lucky shockingly arrives. Elizabeth is stunned. Cam, Jake, and Aiden are angry. Nikolas and Laura are surprised. Before Lucky makes his way into the depths of the party, Laura pulls him aside outside. She tells him she loves him and is so happy he is here, but if he doesn’t plan on sticking around for his sons, he needs to leave now. She explains that the boys have gone through rough times and he never showed up, but he returns for a party. So he either leaves for good or joins the party with the intent on sticking around for his sons.

Lucky takes a few minutes, but he decides to return to the party. Cam confronts him and advises him to stay away from their mother and her boys. He reveals that Liz is happy with Nik and doesn’t want Lucky screwing it up. Lucky congratulates Niz on their relationship and gives them his blessing. Niz are surprised. 

A few weeks pass and Laura encourages Lucky to at least try to make inroads with the boys. She bluntly tells Lucky that her grandsons don’t need a father because they have a wonderful mother who raised them on their own, but those boys deserve a good dad. Lucky visits Elizabeth at work. He asks her how he can not only attempt to fix his relationship with the boys, but with her as well. She recommends family therapy, but only if the boys are up to it.

Lucky attends solo sessions and Elizabeth shares that the boys will try family therapy. Aiden thaws the quickest to Lucky, while Cam remains cold for a while. During Lucky’s solo sessions, we get insight into why he has stayed away so long: In fear of becoming a drunken, absent husband and father like Luke, he thought staying away was the best option. But by doing so, he became an absent partner and father in the process. 

Lucky apologizes to Elizabeth for all the infidelities and hurtful words he has said to her in the past. They agree to be best friends and co-parents. Lucky gets his life back on track in Port Charles. When Carly gets the Metro Court back after Olivia’s death, she sells Kelly’s to Lucky for a dollar. 

SCOTT’S DAUGHTER FALLS FOR LUKE’S SON

Serena returns to town a lawyer, like her father. She reunites with her parents, Scotty and Lucy. They are so excited to see her and she reveals that a position in the DA’s office opened and she decided that it was time to come home. Lucy is so excited to introduce her to Martin.

One day, she goes for lunch at Kelly’s and actually bumps into Lucky. He accidentally spills water and lemonade over her. He apologizes profusely. She agrees to accept his apology and not charge him for dry cleaning if she can get a free lunch. Lucky agrees. They strike up a flirtation and she ends up going to lunch at Kelly’s everyday, but they never give each other their first names.

Lucky, with encouragement from his brother, asks Serena out. She agrees. They decide to catch dinner and a movie. While having dinner at the Metro Court, they bump into Scotty who freaks out at the prospect of his daughter dating Luke Spencer’s son. Lucky and Serena are shocked at the other’s parentage, but agree to continue on their date. The chemistry is palpable and they sleep together.

Scotty is vehemently opposed to the relationship, but Lucy is excited as she sees this as another way to become even closer to the supercouple Luke and Laura. He eventually becomes less vocal as he sees how happy Serena is. 

Lucky and Serena’s happiness comes to a bump when Serena falls pregnant. Serena wants the baby, but Lucky is against it. He was already a terrible father to the boys. He’s scared he will abandon this child as well. BUT he doesn’t say this to Serena and breaks up with her. Serena does not wallow. She’s a strong independent woman and decides to keep the child. 

Lucky is lost without Serena. Elizabeth, Lulu, Laura, and eventually the boys convince him to get her back and be a partner and dad to the baby. Serena does accept his apology but does not take him back. She experiences some difficulties and is put on bed rest, she is scared she is going to lose the baby. Lucky rushes to her side and declares his love. She realizes that her birth mother never got a second chance at life and love. Serena forgives Lucky. She gives birth to a preemie baby girl, who they name Ruby Dominique. 

MAXIE/SPINELLI REUNITE AS GEORGIE SHOCKS THEM

As Maxie and Spinelli realize that they belong together, their lives are thrown for a loop when Georgie suddenly gets ill and ends up fainting in the middle of dinner at the Metro Court. They rush her to GH where doctors run many tests on her. While Maxie and Spinelli are waiting to see Georgie, Terry approaches them. They automatically think it is cancer, due to Terry’s concentration. She asks to speak with them privately. Terry initially calms their nerves by saying that Georgie does not have cancer. She is, however, pregnant at 13. 

Maxie and Spinelli are in shock. Maxie calls Felicia and Mac to the hospital and reveals what Terry has just told them. Felicia can’t speak and Mac questions whether Georgie has been sexually abused by an older man. He takes it upon himself to background check and investigate every male teacher and adult in Georgie’s life. Maxie and Spinelli are able to see Georgie and they reveal her impending motherhood. Georgie is shocked. They start asking her millions of questions, but Georgie panics and kicks them out.

A few days later, Georgie is still giving her parents the silent treatment. Felicia comes over with ice cream and cookies in an attempt to get her granddaughter to open up. Georgie makes Felicia swear not to reveal to anyone who the father is until Georgie plucks up the courage to tell him. Felicia agrees and Georgie reveals the father, but the audience does not hear the name. 

Felicia tries to calm Maxie, Spinelli, and Mac’s worries and concerns. They deduce that she knows the father and attempt to pull it out of her. But Felicia stays loyal to Georgie. We see Georgie text an unknown number and ask to come over to Maxie’s house (Maxie and family moved into Lulu’s house before Lulu woke up). A knock is heard at the door and when Georgie opens the door, the camera pans up from the bottom and it is revealed that the baby daddy is Jake Webber. 

Georgie reveals to Jake that after their two time romp, she is pregnant. Jake goes into a panic. But Georgie reveals that she is getting an abortion. She can’t be a mom at 13. As she reveals her intentions, Maxie and Spinelli come home and hear her. Jake agrees to whatever Georgie wants to do, because it is her body.

Maxie and Felicia accompany Georgie to the clinic to get an abortion.

JOSS/CARLY MIRROR CARLY/BOBBIE 

After Dex’s death, Joss learns that Jax has unexpectedly passed away as well. Josslyn begins sleeping around with any man just to numb the pain. Soon, Josslyn discovers Carly having a flirtation with Lorenzo. She notices Carly is enjoying the flirting and ignoring Drew more and more. Josslyn became close to Drew during the Crew relationship and respected him for taking the fall for the SEC mess.

She finds Drew drunk at Charlies and cozies up to him. She gets a tipsy Drew to open up about her mom. He reveals he knows Carly in entertaining Lorenzo’s advances. He is angry because he put Carly above Scout and his other family. They end up falling in bed together. When Drew wakes up more sober, he is shocked that he slept with Josslyn and has her promise to keep this a secret. Josslyn agrees. However, she plans on seducing him again.

After Drew catches Carly and Lorenzo making out, Drew runs into Josslyn. They talk and end up in bed again. They continue this secret affair for months. However, when Carly goes to tell Josslyn the news about Bobbie, she discovers Joss in bed with Drew.

Carly is FURIOUS. She orders Drew out to have a word with her daughter. Carly and Josslyn get into a huge argument. Terrible words are said. Josslyn reminds her mother that she learned everything from her mother, even sleeping with her mom’s partner. Carly scoffs and goes to exit, but turns around to reveal the news about Bobbie. Will the death of Bobbie bring mother and daughter back together after a huge rift?

TJ/KRISTINA ONE NIGHT STAND

After things fall through with the surrogate, Molly’s (with a more age appropriate recast) baby rabies gets even worse. She even decides to quit her job at the DA’s office to focus on becoming a mom. TJ is upset that she didn't discuss her plans to quit with him or her increasing attempts to adopt a baby. Molly and TJ get in a huge fight. He declares that she isn’t even thinking of him anymore and she is letting her obsession with having a child take over her life. He leaves their apartment in a huff.

He goes to Charlie’s to drink away his anger. He vents to Kristina about her sister and she eventually gets drunk along with him while venting about Molly. They sleep together and immediately regret it. TJ tells Kristina that he is going to tell Molly the truth about what happened. Kristina begs him not to. Molly will never forgive them, but TJ says he doesn’t keep secrets.

TJ returns home and admits to Molly about his tryst with Kristina. Molly is enraged. She breaks up with TJ and heads directly to Kristina’s. She accuses Kristina of setting out to ruin her life. Kristina throws back into Molly’s face that Molly is ruining her own life with her baby rabies. They keep trading barbs back and forth. Alexis arrives after getting a call from TJ and intervenes. Molly admits that she can’t stay here anymore and Alexis assumes she means in the room. But Molly clarifies that she means Port Charles. She decides to leave town and go stay with Ric.

Roughly 6-8 weeks later, Kristina realizes that her period is late. She takes a test and it is positive. She contemplates not telling anyone and getting an abortion, but she hears Molly’s voice in her head telling her she can never complete a task and won’t ever accomplish anything. Kristina decides to have the baby and breaks the news to TJ. They decide to co-parent amicably and once she hits 12 weeks, they break the news to their shocked families.

SONNY’S FRUITY KIDS

After Willow’s death, Michael is beside himself. He is raising two kids alone and is not sure if he can cope. He didn’t really have the best examples of parents growing up. A few months following Willow’s death, a smile returns to Michael’s face and there is a pep in his step. Ned, Brook Lynn, Joss, Carly, and Sonny all question this happy glow he has. All Michael reveals is that he has found someone, but is keeping it private because of the kids. 

Brook Lynn goes to visit Michael at ELQ one day and stumbles in upon Michael, shirtless and pants undone, kissing Paul Wu (Selina Wu’s nephew). Michael is embarrassed and orders Paul to leave. Brook Lynn tries to calm down a clearly panicking Michael. Michael swears her to secrecy. Brook Lynn questions why he doesn’t want anyone to know. Is it because he is related to Selina Wu? Michael replies that Paul’s relationship with Selina may complicate things in Sonny’s mob world, but it’s not his biggest concern. He reveals that Paul is a man and he is scared of what Carly, Sonny, hell even Monica would think of him.

Brook Lynn promises her silence, but tells Michael she loves him for exactly who he is. It doesn’t matter who he loves. Michael meets with Paul and apologizes for his outburst. Paul agrees to keep their relationship private for now, but not forever. Michael has an inner battle on revealing his true self and relationship to his parents and family. 

A pregnant Kristina meets Annie Donely at Charlie’s after Annie comes in for a drink. They strike up a conversation and are clearly flirting. Their flirtation continues for a few weeks before Kristina takes her upstairs after a shift. Kristina tells Annie about her predicament with TJ and Annie surprises her by telling her she’ll stay by Kristina’s side. A pregnancy doesn’t scare her. Kristina is touched, but soon becomes worried for her dad when she discovers that Annie works for the WSB and is looking into stopping mob activity in Port Charles.

When Kristina is six months along, she suffers a miscarriage and is devastated. Molly’s words haunt her again. Kristina thinks Molly was right and she can’t accomplish anything. Annie tries to help Kristina through the aftermath of losing her and TJ’s baby boy: Thomas Stefan.

FAREWELL BOBBIE

Bobbie left town to go visit Lucas. A week later, Carly gets a call from Lucas. He went to wake up Bobbie for breakfast, only to find that she passed in her sleep. Carly spreads the word. The town is shocked.

Carly, a visiting Lucas, Michael, and Josslyn plan the funeral. The entire town attends. Lesley Webber and Noah Drake visit to pay their respects. The funeral goes on for 3 show days. We get eulogies from Carly, Lucas, Scott, Laura, Noah, Elizabeth, and Lucy. Flashbacks are intertwined with the eulogies. Bobbie’s portrait gets hung on the GH wall next to Amy’s. 

Josslyn and Carly agree to allow some time to pass for the anger between them to mellow. Carly admits that she was not a good daughter to her mom in the beginning and she lost some years with her that she can’t get back. She doesn’t want to lose any time with her daughter.

Also at the funeral, Lucas stumbles upon Michael’s secret and gives him advice and a listening ear.

TAGGERT IS THE FATHER

Selina Wu is revealed to have switched the results of the paternity test to keep Curtis in her clutches. She learned that he was contemplating working with the WSB to take down the mob underworld. So, to keep him in line, she changes the results and begins threatening his “daughter” Trina when she needs him to do her dirty work.

When Selina asks Curtis to host a meeting of the 5 families and demands 51% ownership in his club, Curtis freezes. He refuses to be involved in the mob life and she catches him secretly calling the WSB to report a mob meeting. Selina orders her men to kidnap Trina. However, the kidnapping backfires badly and Trina is shot.

Spencer is beside himself, Portia is scared, and Taggert and Curtis rush to GH. TJ declares that Trina has lost a ton of blood and needs family to donate. Curtis jumps at the chance, but when he is asked his blood type, it is not Trina’s match. He doesn’t think anything of it, but when Portia says she can’t donate because they are not a match, Curtis puts two and two together: He is not Trina’s father. Taggert is!

Taggert, torn between being elated at Trina being his but also scared for Trina’s life, rushes off to give his blood, which is confirmed to be Trina’s type. Curtis is furious. He lashes out at Portia, accusing her of changing the results to get him to forgive her for the 20 year lie. However, Portia keeps maintaining her innocence. 

Curtis calls Stella, who moved to Arizona with Marshall, and tells her about everything that has happened. She tells him to pull his head out of his ass and be a STEP father. Blood doesn’t make a family, love does. 

Curtis returns to GH and sits vigil with Portia, Spencer, and Taggert. He gets a text from Selina asking him to meet in the garage. Curtis excuses himself and meets with Selina. He unleashes his anger about Trina and lets it slip that he assumes Portia changed the results. Selina reveals that she was behind the switch and demands he hand over 51% of his club to her or Trina won’t wake up. Curtis agrees and rushes back into GH.

Spencer sits vigil with Trina and we get flashbacks and even visions of how Spencer sees their future. As Spencer lays his head down on her hand to cry, another hand comes up to pet his head. Spencer looks up and sees Trina is awake.

Once Trina is more alert, Portia and Taggert reveal that Taggert is really her dad. Trina is happy, but also sad for Curtis. Curtis comes to visit and reveals having her as his daughter for the time he did was the happiest time of his life, but the DNA doesn’t change his love for her. He will always, always protect her. Taggert overhears and begins investigating what Curtis is hiding and why Trina needs protecting. 

NEXIS RIDE AGAIN

After Olivia’s death, Ned finds himself a single dad to Leo. Brook Lynn and Chase move into the Q mansion to help her dad cope, especially since Monica is getting older. When Ned basically becomes a recluse, Brook Lynn calls in reinforcement: Tracy, Dillon, and Alexis.

Tracy takes the tough love approach, but that gets her nowhere except kicked out and sleeping on Laura’s sofa. Dillon tries to help his brother by comparing how he felt when he heard KiKi was killed. Ned still remains cold. Alexis decides to take matters into her own hands. She literally drags Ned out of the house by his collar and takes him to the park for ice cream at night. 

After they finish their cones, Alexis tells Ned to lay with her on the grass to look up at the stars. She tells him Olivia is one of those stars. Ned scoffs and asks when she did she become a lovey dovey person who talks to the stars. She replies that she’s not, but to help him, she will do anything. After that little date, Ned and Alexis start seeing each other more and more, but deny that they are dating.

When Tracy questions Ned and Sam questions Alexis about Nexis’s status, they both respond that they are nervous to take that leap since the last time it ended with Alexis running from the altar.

Ned admits to BLQ that he is scared it is too soon after Olivia, but BLQ tells him life is too short. Take his shot. And if he gets hurt, her, Chase, and Dillon will be there to catch him. Tracy, who now is back working at ELQ, asks Alexis to be ELQ’s legal counsel, hoping it would derail Ned from dating an ELQ employee. Ned, finds a work around in ELQ bylaws, and asks Alexis out on a date, much to Tracy’s chagrin.

Alexis and Ned are back together, but Alexis remains concerned that she can’t do normal and will constantly be pulled towards whatever bad guy bats his eyes at her. We will see Alexis struggle with a “normal” man, but work to fight for the relationship.

BRENDA RETURNS

After Nina is outed as the person who reported Carly and Drew to the SEC, everyone is expecting Sonny to drop Nina. BUT he surprises everyone by standing by her, but decides to postpone the wedding. Sonny explains to Kristina that he’s made MANY mistakes in his life yet a lot of people forgave him and gave him a second chance. He needs to start doing that for others.

When Lorenzo’s attempts at finally destroying Sonny ramp up, Sonny gets a shock when Brenda turns up. Sonny and Nina’s relationship is sent into a tailspin. Brenda is back to visit with Brook Lynn and help her set up LnB  records 2.0. 

Sonny is immediately drawn back into Brenda’s presence and Nina is worried. Carly was one thing, but Brenda… she is the love of Sonny’s life and the one that always got away.

Nina tries to convince Brenda to leave town and that BLQ will be fine without her crowding her. But Brenda sees right through Nina’s act and warns Nina that Sonny will drop Nina in a hot second if she asks. 

We see Brenda reconnect with Ned and get an update on Lois. 

Lorenzo gets word that Brenda is in town and realizes that she is his ticket to destroying Sonny. He puts a bomb in Brenda’s car and when she leaves her dinner with Ned, her car explodes. Ned calls 911 and then Sonny.

Sonny, who just ran off with Nina to the courthouse to elope, gets the call that Brenda has been attacked. He leaves Nina and rushes to GH. Brenda’s life hangs in the balance. Sonny sits vigil at her bedside, much to Nina’s chagrin.

Sonny, not knowing that Nina is listening, promises Brenda the world. He promises that if she wakes up, he will quit the mob life. Hand over his empire to Lorenzo and he and Brenda can leave PC. They can have a new life.

Nina is furious and starts to act unhinged. Ava tries to calm down her best friend by explaining that Sonny is just speaking words that would make Brenda wake up.

Brenda wakes up, but what is Sonny really going to do? Will he leave his world, kids, and Nina for Brenda? Or will Brenda always be left standing in the rain for Sonny?

WHO KILLED ESME

After all of Laura’s kids return, the whole Kevin is silent arc, we get a big murder mystery: Who killed Esme?

Leading up to Esme’s death, a group of people visit Pentonville: Laura visits Cyrus, Nikolas visits Esme, Ava visits Olivia Jerome, Spencer visits Esme, Martin visits Cyrus, etc.

When Esme’s body is found in her cell, the police look Cyrus as suspect number one. He is in jail and Esme has hurt his family. He is the perfect target. They question him and some of the wardens. They quickly discover that Cyrus was in his guarded cell for hours before and after Esme’s murder. So, it couldn’t be him.

Nikolas is questioned next because he was the one who visited her. He is questioned by Jordan. He admits to visiting Esme, but only to tell her to stop sending him threatening letters regarding killing him and kidnapping Ace. Nikolas offers picking up Aiden from school as his alibi. Jordan lets him go.

Ava is their next suspect. She hates Esme. They question why she was meeting with her sister. First, she admits she just wanted sister time, but Jordan sees right through that excuse. Ava admits to taking over Olivia’s connections but leaves it vague enough for Jordan not to worry. Jordan asks Ava if she asked Olivia to kill Esme for her, but Ava scoffs at the notion. Ava admits that if she wanted Esme dead she would have done it herself a long time ago. With Ava’s honesty and a watertight alibi, Jordan lets Ava go.

Before Jordan has time to question Spencer, evidence is brought to the station. A scarf that belongs to Laura was found with Esme’s blood on it. Laura is immediately called in for questioning. When presented with the scarf, Laura is shocked. She admits to wearing that scarf, but swears she put it in her purse because she gets heated when she has to yell at Cyrus. Laura’s only alibi was being at her mayor’s office alone, but no one was there to confirm. And coincidentally, the security cameras glitched during the time Laura swears that she was there. Jordan has no other choice but to arrest Laura for Esme’s murder.

The town is shocked, but does not believe Laura did the crime. Martin tries to get Laura out on bail, but the judge denies her bail since she already has 2 murders on her wrap sheet (Theresa Carter and David Hamilton).

Heather angrily confronts Laura in jail with a shank, but Cyrus jumps to Laura’s defense. He defends Laura and insists Laura would NEVER kill the mother of her grandson. Laura pleads with Heather. Heather eventually agrees that killing Esme wasn’t in Laura’s style. The trio form a comedic bond in prison.

The town works to prove Laura’s innocence. Sam, Felicia, and Spinelli use their PI skills to look at every security camera and track down any and every witness to Laura’s moves that day.

Kevin, Martin, Spencer, Cam, Lucky, and Lulu visit Laura and all find it curious that Nikolas hasn’t visited. Cam brings up that fact to his mom. Liz questions Nik on why he isn’t visiting his mom and after an argument he admits that he can’t face her. Liz wonders if Nik thinks she actually did it. He says no, but their lives would be easier if everyone believed she did. Liz becomes very curious at Nik’s stance.

Liz finds out through some snooping done by Spencer and Cam that Nik’s alibi is picking Aiden up from school, but she knows for a fact that Aiden went home with a friend that day. She talks to Aiden who admits that Nik paid him $10,000 for his silence. Liz is furious and confronts Nik. He tries to talk himself out of it, but admits to it. Liz accuses him of being the one to kill Esme. She loves Nik, but he used her kid and she won’t stand for that. She tells Jordan that Nik lied about his alibi. 

Nik is questioned again. This time admits that he can’t provide a rock solid alibi. Meanwhile, Felicia was able to find a cleaning lady who admits to seeing Laura at the office during the time of the murder. Kevin can’t thank his friend enough and Laura is freed, only for Nikolas to be locked up.

Nikolas admits to Cyrus that he was meeting with a hired hitman to kill Esme, but didn’t go through it. He couldn’t tell the police that. It would only disappoint his mother, son, and family even more. 

Lulu is spending the night with her new boyfriend, Garrett, also Kevin’s ASL teacher. While he is out of the room, he knocks off his wallet from the side table. She picks it and its contents up, only to find a picture of a young Kevin. When Garrett returns, she questions him about the picture.

He admits that Kevin is his father. Lulu wants to rush and tell Kevin. Garrett stops her. Lulu is confused and says that Kevin would be thrilled at a son. Garrett says he can’t ever know because it will make things worse. Lulu says what? Garrett admits to killing Esme after learning that Esme was also sending Kevin letters threatening his life and he wanted to protect his father. Lulu is shocked. Does she keep her boyfriend's secrets or free her brother?

[mimipuppet]

mp100 x orv

i wonder how the characters in mp100 would be in orv so I made an au. psychic powers would still exist here and the timeline of mp100 would be around after the mogami arc but before the world domination arc

reigen would probably be as much of a bullshiter as he is in canon in orv. he would talk so much about how he has a powerful constellation sponsoring him when in reality he doesn't have any sponsor at all or a weak one may also claim to be a constellation himself

mob and reigen would probably be together during the first scenario and wouldn't kill a person but instead an insect, reigen would probably tell mob that since he is smart

ritsu would probably have the same idea and survive the first scenario

I'm mixed on how teru would do the first scenario but he would survive somehow, probs burning someone alive like he did in the 7th division arc

mob wouldn't choose a constellation at all since he doesn't like violence and would be mad at constellation for finding joy in suffering

mixed on whether ritsu would have a constellation but decided that he would since his goal is to survive and connect with his family

toichiro would excel in this environment let's be honest and would have a powerful constellation

psychics would attract a lot of attention from constellations due to their powers and would be curious about them since their powers aren't from constellations but born with them

so yeah whoever streams the seasoning city area would be lucky since there are quite a few psychics there (mob, ritsu, teru, the awakening kids, takenaka, etc)

I feel like the telepathy club would panic and kill someone and the body improvement club would crush a bug they are quite passive

tsubomi has a cunning nature but is kind hearted, I don't feel like she'd kill someone but then again I believe she would panic and kill someone similar to how that kokoro girl from yandere simulator killed the blonde and blue bully by smashing her over and over with a bat or she'd die

the 5 henchmen of toichiro would survive since they were all down for the world domination thing and would probably kill someone instead of a bug or animal, serizawa would have second thoughts but would comply when toichiro talks him into it

reigen and mob would be quite popular for different reasons

mob would be popular because of the curiosity of constellations wondering why he doesn't like to hurt people with his powers, pacifist constellations liking him for going the non-violent way, eden constellations would like him and uriel would like him and teru the same way she likes kdj and yjh relationship. some constellations would scoff at him but he would be well-known in general

reigen would be popular in like a kind of bad way, constellations would mostly scoff and roll their eyes at his bullshitting, and constellation would try to message mob multiple times about how he's a fraud but mob would just ignore it. they would be like 'ugh him again' some constellations do take a liking to him because man is funny and so embarrassing along with the fact he generally cares for mob. like half of his popularity would come from the fact that he's mob's mentor but then constellations would dub him the sweaty con man after a while

ritsu would team up with shou and his gang of 3 adults, he wouldn't be friendly with shou at first but their friendship would develop over time

ritsu and mob would reunite in the disaster scenario but their parents would be dead yay they're fatherless and motherless now

kdj would be so fucking confused on who they are since wos never mentioned them and would have a fucking breakdown like he had when he found out that the constellations knew something he didn't know from wos

may do more may not and abandon this au, it was just a random thought process I had

[msfbgraves]

Let me get this off my chest: when I did read that Terry had slipped up and cheated on Daniel, I was pretty disappointed that the story had gone in that direction. Terry’s a bad man—hell, he commits murder over and over again for crying out loud!—but I truly loved that he was good to Daniel, and for Daniel (for the most part), and adored that boy like there was no tomorrow. Like he would die if anything happened to him by another hand or his own. That fierce love and devotion he had for this little omega who was bartered away to him was intensely romantic. Two very different sides of the same story—Mob!Terry and family man!Terry, and I loved the disparity between them. Two very different sides of the same man. 

But the cheating threw me, and I did seriously dislike it, but it didn’t make me want to stop reading, or dislike the overall story—just really dislike that one part of it. Anyway I thought, this is your story and you can do whatever you want! We can choose to stay and read or leave. 

But then the reveal of what happened “that night”, the full extent of Terry’s revolting behavior was shown and. UGH. See, when you first wrote that part, from what I recall, the way it was worded just sounded like rough, but not unwanted sex—that Daniel was furious and hurt that Terry had taken his anger at Michael out on him and used him like that. It didn’t read as rape to me.

But recent things you’ve posted have shown that indeed it was. The part where Daniel was so scared and sad that he sought protection even from his little Alpha babies was heartbreaking and this, more than anything, proved how violent and painful and disgusting what Terry did to him was. The same person who said he’d treat him like a Queen, but also bought him jewelry when he fucked him like a whore. Maybe I should have seen it coming, in a way. 

Just…anything good Terry does from now on is always going to be stained by the rape, as well as the cheating—but especially the former. Nothing he does now—buying Daniel flowers, playfully teasing him, being wonderfully affectionate with him, tenderly making love to him—is going to change the fact that Terry came home one night and fucked him so brutally that their own babies covered Daniel with their own bodies without even knowing the full extent of what happened between their parents. They just sensed that Daniel was broken in some way and acted upon that instinct. 

It just makes all the good times ring hollow, all the sweet gesture and declarations of love from Terry seem like ash. It makes me wonder just how Daniel can stand to have this man touch him again after this, and how he can stay in a marriage where these things happen by the hand of his own spouse. One time is one time too many, that’s what. It reminds me of those Shoujo mangas that use rape as a vehicle for drama and conflict, but the girl always forgives and stays with the guy who never really changes. 

Do I still love your fic? Sure. I’m still grateful for your writing and these fills even if I don’t like the ones like this. 

But…Terry’s character is totally done for me in this fic. He’s absolutely irredeemable at this point. This is a line you don’t ever cross and he crossed it with a vengeance. It’s infuriating that he’ll never face any real consequences because we all know Daniel won’t leave him ever because of the pups, to avoid bloodshed between the factions, and because he still deeply loves this monster. Terry Silver truly gets his cake and eats it too and it’s awful. Daniel is pretty much a love martyr at this point. Problem is he’s always been too good for Terry. It’s just that now we’re really seeing it. Always surrounded by truly shitty men—his father who bartered him away while being creepily close to him, his sociopathic brother Michael who thought the trade off was for the best, and now his own spouse who thinks he can do whatever because sweet, pretty, darling Danny-boy will still love him. Yikes. 

Anyway, just one question, don’t feel pressured to answer it, but—

What made you write what happened between them as rape? 

Nonnie, this is in response to your ask, so I'm writing it down here, but not all of it is in response to you being the only one asking this or instigating what may come across as a somewhat strong reaction. I am not addressing you alone or specifically. These two days I have been sent so many asks and reactions, some of which I frankly think are upsetting. So I am taking the opportunity to get something off my chest myself, because, well, evidently that seems appropriate to people. You have laid the reactions of many asks out very eloquently, so I am answering here. You are definitely not being singled out, though!

When I started the first minifill of Knights and Pawns, between me, my word processor and God, I had watched that other Terry, the "good" version of Terry Silver as laid out by the big man himself, Thomas Ian Griffith. And even that guy, though handsome, athletic, loyal and insanely protective of his girlfriend, who could have passed for a female, omega version of Ralph Macchio, had problems the film did not want to address. Again, we're supposed to like this dude who does not take no for an answer. His girlfriend breaks up with him, and when he feels this has gone on long enough, he simply breaks into her home and stays. But he's vulnerable! He brings a kitten! And she... goes along with it. A male audience may take this as "See? Sometimes you have to take control and your sweetheart will stop being silly." And why not? He's hot. Strong. Tender. Very affectionate. And he broke into her home and could kill her with his pinkie and track her down as she runs, plus, in the whole film his main problem is that he 'snaps' and seriously hurts people. But he plays the piano! And he cuddles!

What a dreamboat, huh. And well, canon Terry Silver we have all seen in action. And canon Terry Silver too can absolutely tone it down. Cheyenne may really not have a clue. I am sure he really is a great hugger.

And I have always been fascinated by arranged marriages, political marriages. So often, another war between France and England was ended by: "after the young King of England slew the Dauphin, to broker peace, a marriage was arranged between the King and the Dauphin's sister." Just imagine that on a human level, please. Just try to get your head around it! This guy killed your brother and now you need to have sex with him.

Nonnies, please - that is the setup of the fic.

A guy like Terry Silver - whose good guy version also gets scary if he wants to - and you have to marry him. (Or you stop dating and he simply won't leave, which is scarily similar.)

Now Terry is an emotionally smart guy, plus he really needs tenderness. He's not going to batter his spouse, that's no way to build a home. And he wants one, and many children too.

And readers kept asking for sweet situations and I am a writer who has to run things by my character. And Terry was like "sure, I would do that." And then people were asking well, how spicy is the sex? Very spicy, thank you. But I had already established he doesn't take no for an answer.

As for Michael, he just happened. Do we really think mob families have no scary people in them? Uh, I don't. And I'm not a puppeteer. Michael happened without my planning him, because he is the son of a father who rose to power because he was so good at stabbing people to death it became his family name. That has to go somewhere.

And now, somewhere in the background, Michael and Terry would interact. And clash, because Terry would want to take over the whole operation and Michael wouldn't let him, and I think they're intellectually very well matched, and power wise too. Michael is a beta and Terry is an outsider and son-in-law so welcome to immovable object vs unstoppable force.

And please also don't pretend that women in history were not supposed to bear the brunt of a man's anger during sex. Men keep putting it in their own story: "He was angry, and things got a bit rough. She was upset, not gonna lie, and he felt he went too far too. Gotta watch out with that, it doesn't feel good." But that is often followed by: "She then straight up and left! Wtf? Baby, it wasn't like that!"

Terry and Daniel would both - especially in that culture- rationalise it as "spicy sex that got out of hand."

Why did I write that? Because that's how it felt to me. That scene with the puppies? Always there, I simply didn't put it in, at first. Because people were not gonna like it. Well, story doesn't care. Story is boss, not me. And if that feels trite, it's how it works. Once, I wanted Draco Malfoy to rise above a situation. Well, he didn't. He couldn't. Then, I wanted Sansa Stark to lose to Tywin Lannister. But she was like, "seven hells, you can fuck right off with that." I was curious whether or not the wedding night sex between Terry and Daniel would be scary and nasty. But there, Terry was like "No."

But it already happened weeks ago. And people were willing to go "Yikes, but let's not get into it." And that is exactly what Daniel and Terry would have done. And the cheating Terry simply wouldn't have mentioned. He was angry at Daniel for not accepting his apology. He used to fuck kitties all the time (which I mentioned more than once). He knew he was wrong the night before, frustrated, he fucked that out yesterday, and since this kitty offered (he did not seek her out), why not do that again? He doesn't want to be around his pups like this, anyway. Maybe it helps?

It didn't. In fact it finally made the penny drop.

In many gangster films, the penny never drops. And when a whole film is about the penny having dropped, as in Godfather III, people hate that too. You cannot win.

But anyway. Terry finally realised he literally fucked up spectacularly.

And then: nothing came of it, he never does it again, it could only hurt Daniel so why should he tell?

But ah! That detail people were not willing to overlook! The real damage had already been done but apparently this is easier to glance over. Remember, nonnies. This happened before Anthony was born and people did not react as strongly.

Which is everyone's right.

But now. They first kept asking for details. Which I supplied. Then. The anger. The disappointment. At me, personally. Why could I not keep giving people the good stuff? Why did I put that in?

Because I'm trying to be true to what I feel. Because I feel that it is a canon part of Terry, whether Silver, McCain or this amalgation. Because I never promised anyone anything. Because this isn't a genre novel. Because people ask? It was supposed to be a one shot! I did not submit an outline and collect an advance. But the anger! The absolute moral righteousness with which people come into my house and say, "you upset my moral values, you had no right to ruin my enjoyment, and I want you to know" - no, people did not perceive or chose to ignore a darker undertone, and now feel betrayed when I, in response to yet another audience question, am not playing along... and they feel it is perfectly OK making their feelings known.

Well.

Neil Gaiman is on here. Suppose I was upset with a storyline turn in Sandman (which I am not. I have no opinion on it as I haven't seen it), and I went into his askbox to make my opinions, my heartbreak, my disappointment known. Would that be OK? We all know it's not. We know it's rude.

I am glad of the passion the story provokes. But please, people, can you remember this is the equivalent of saying: you gave me more than twenty gifts, and kept giving while I and others kept asking for more. But this gift I do not like. In fact, it ruined all the enjoyment of the other gifts. And rather than be grateful for the other gifts and deal with my disappointment in my own time, I want you to know. Because you hurt me, and you should feel bad about it."

Who. Do these people think. They are. What gives them the right? Why do they need to get it off their chest.... at me?

Look I hate Bridgerton. I hated the conclusion of Game of Thrones. But I do not think the writers are morally obliged to write things that align with my values or are consistent with a previous tone and I am not going to write to them personally to make my feelings of dislike known. Because that, in my view, shows a profound lack of respect. Btw, it is exactly what Terry did: he was so full of feelings he needed to get out, he did not care what getting his feelings out meant to the person he was engaging with. And everybody hates him for it.

Then don't do it yourself. The severity of actions of course one can't compare. But the underlying mechanism is the same.

Rather ironic.

[soapkaars]

For the ask game: 31, 61, 62 and 98?

Asks come from this post: https://www.tumblr.com/soapkaars/742324378777403392/weird-asks-that-say-a-lot

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

I think I love this question now because I went through my selfies and I found so many fun outfits I’ve worn that I feel so much better about myself now! It’s hard to pick a favourite, but I think my favourite outfit range is between divorced Parisian femme and con-artist/disgraced nobility masc

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Oh there are so many great films I’ve seen that it’s hard to choose one but here are few that I often mutter to myself:

‘Impossible? Napoleon said that word isn’t French!’ (Dr Gogol, Mad Love)

‘Morirá!’ (He will die) ‘murió’ (he died) ‘ha muerto’ (he is dead) from a video art installation by two old Spanish artists who shown sitting on two plastic chairs and listing off all the celebrities who had died or who will die

‘Tell their mother they’re doing quite well and they will leave us soon, yes they will be going on a journey… how did Shakespeare say it? Ah yes, From which no man returns.’ (Abbott from The Man Who Knew too Much, said with a typical Peter Lorre shit-eating grin)

The whole cerulean sweater speech from The Devil wears Prada

62. seven characters you relate to?

Definitely Abbott from the Man Who Knew too Much, that man is goals… as well as David Suchet’s Hercule Poirot. I’ve even got the arrogance and grandiosity down pat! For the rest I relate too much to loser men like Marcello Mastroianni in Eight and a Half and Joel Cairo from the Maltese Falcon. Other characters would be terrible women like Miranda Priestly from the Devil Wears Prada, Cruella de Ville (she only wanted to fulfill her vision of a fur coat made from puppies!), and Helen Sharp from Death Becomes Her (played by Goldie Hawn!)

98. favorite historical era?

Oh definitely the Weimar era - I am in love with Dadaism and artists like George Grosz and Otto Dix from that period of time. It fascinates me to no end and almost all of the art movements from that time have been a huge influence on my own style of drawing and art. Other close contenders are late 17th century Netherlands (1672, the ‘disaster year’ when the country was invaded by the French and a prime minister was eaten up by an angry mob who were also part of a coup d’etat carried out by the Prince of Orange), the French Revolution, and the Cold War era, particularly from the 70s to the 80s with the rise of counterculture and the fall of the Berlin Wall which released an explosion of art, design, architecture (post modernism babeyyyy!!)… I have this fascination with periods of transition and I always love learning more and more about them!

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Whats the plot of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari

An unboxing video goes terribly wrong.

…Okay, I know I’ve made that joke before lol. Anyway, it opens with this guy named Francis sitting on a bench, telling a story to an old man, which he claimed were events that happened to him and a woman he says is his fiancee. The majority of the film consists of the story he tells.

So, there’s this old guy who shows up in town wanting to see the town clerk. He introduces himself as Dr. Caligari, and wants a permit to display an attraction at the traveling carnival (it’s not directly mentioned but iirc it’s Oktoberfest?) in the town of Holstenwall. The clerk dismisses him because he’s busy, and is later found dead.

Francis and his friend Alan go to the fair together, where they see Caligari’s exhibition. The attraction in question is a somnambulist named Cesare, whom Caligari keeps in a box (don’t worry; it gets worse) and claims he can see the future. Alan, for some reason, decides that out of everything he could possibly ask, wants to know when he’s going to die. Cesare tells him he’ll die at dawn the following day.

Francis and Alan walk home from the carnival with their friend Jane, whom they both are attracted to, but agree to let her choose between them. However, the choice is suddenly made very easy for her when that night, Cesare enters Alan’s window while sleepwalking and stabs him to death. When Francis finds out about Alan’s death, he decides to investigate the murder, immediately suspicious of Caligari and Cesare. A different suspect is caught, but turns out not to be the murderer. Jane’s father has ties to the (incompetent) police, and is also involved in the investigation.

Later, Jane grows suspicious of the fact that her father has been away for so long and goes to Caligari’s tent to investigate. Caligari, being the sketchy creep that he is, instead shows her Cesare in his box and wakes him up, causing Jane to flee.

That night, Cesare is sent to kill Jane, but right as he’s about to stab her, puts down the knife and instead reaches for her head. Jane wakes up, startling him, and he grabs her and runs out the window, chased by a mob until he drops her and collapses. Francis, however, has been watching Caligari and what he thinks is Cesare all night, and when Jane recovers and tells him that Cesare kidnapped her, he doesn’t believe her, only to find out that it was a dummy of Cesare in Caligari’s caravan to provide him with an alibi. (We’re also not going to get into the implications of how Caligari made the dummy. It gets worse the more you think about it.)

Francis goes to the local insane asylum and asks if they have a patient named “Caligari.” He is told that the asylum director has returned, and when he enters the director’s office, finds out that the director just so happens to be Caligari. Because apparently they let this guy be in charge of a mental institution.

That night, while Caligari is asleep, Francis and the other asylum doctors investigate his journals. They find an old book titled “The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari,” about an 18th-century Italian mystic named Caligari who hypnotized a patient named Cesare and used him to commit murders, using a dummy of him to avert suspicion. The asylum director’s own diaries tell of an obsession with becoming the character Caligari from the book, and replicating his methods to find out if it was possible to get someone to commit murder in their sleep. Caligari (the asylum director) acquires a somnambulistic patient, who becomes his “Cesare,” and is implied to have been the subject of nonconsensual experimentation.

When the director comes back to his office, Francis accuses him of being “Caligari” and responsible for the murders. He responds with shock, and lashes out when Cesare’s body is brought into the office. Caligari is restrained and put in a cell, where Francis claims he still remains.

As the camera zooms out, we see that Francis is still in the asylum, where he’s been the whole time. Some of the other characters from his story are there as well- the woman he claimed was his fiancee is Jane, who herself is delusional and thinks she’s a queen. Cesare is there too, but seems completely harmless. (Alan is nowhere to be seen.) The asylum director enters, and Francis attacks him, recognizing him as “Caligari.” Francis himself is restrained and brought to the same cell depicted in his delusion, and the director wrongly assumed that Francis thinks he’s the book character “Caligari,” having no idea how complex Francis’ thoughts are. He then states he knows how to “cure” Francis, and the film ends.

[ask-the-boogeyman]

ooc;;

How I see re-working Corey into the first movie and onwards:

Remove Cameron. He serves no purpose other than the typical boyfriend toss away character. Gut his ass out. Replace him with Corey, but not as a boyfriend. Allyson would have a decent friend-group balance, and it would make more sense to have more groundwork for their relationship in general.

Smooth out the weird town in general. You go from seeing Laurie as a shut-in weirdo, to banning together for her, to absolutely hating her? Talk about a twitter mindset irl.

Smooth that shit out. Make it make sense, where it's not just a kneejerk of the town going from avoiding her, to supporting her, to whatever they did in Ends. Have it to where she is also able to bond with Allyson and her friend group. That builds the foundation of Laurie being able to sense the changes in Corey MORE. It makes a cleaner cut transition. She can still have the tension with her daughter, but her granddaughter has that bigger bond and thus the friend group is in there as well. She may be a shut-in, but she at least is there for that. Especially once Michael escapes.

How to smooth it: Apprehensive of Laurie but generally supportive of the shut-in older woman in the first movie, beginning the mob mentality banning together with Laurie being in the hospital, and then devolving into chaos. I.E, they all lost lives and families because they listened to that prick with the baseball bat. They shifted it all on Laurie, but why? She was a victim too. So rather than just blame her entirely, make it to where rumors started, down the grapevine, and that's why everyone is so tense. They need a scapegoat, so they choose ANYONE not ''normal''. I.E Corey, Laurie, Allyson, etc.

Back onto Corey.

We get more of his backstory rather than that... hospital scene in Kills. Look, I get where they were coming from, but it didn't add anything except shock value and another death on the town's hands and stupidity. Replace that entire section with getting more on Allyson, the family, Corey, and Corey's family. Give us a reason to be really attached to them from 2018 and into Kills and finally Ends.

Show how overbearing his mother is, and the creepy toxic love she has. ADD THE SCENES FROM THE NOVELS, YOU COWARDS. Like, please. Please.

You'd get a lot more fluid story and yes the movies would then be about 2-2 1/2 half hours long but so damn worth it.

So what you have is a good man with clear emotional baggage, attaching to his first genuine friend group, them all dying other than himself and Allyson, and clinging to that attachment. Mirroring how his mother clings to him. By the time Halloween Ends comes around, have the kill of that kid happen a year later after Kills. Give everything time to fester and build.

He begins to spiral down, you get the deleted scene with Corey and Michael and all the deleted scenes, a well as the novel bits. You get more in general of everything. You get a lot smoother transition of him becoming possessive of Allyson and Laurie, upon realizing that? Tries to talk him down. First through his mother, but realizing she's possibly the reason he's so quick to latch, she tries to talk with him. It shakes his resolve, but just adds more emotion and turmoil.

Have things spiral more and more, and when the final showdown begins? Yes Corey tries to commit the die, but he survives. When Michael is killed off, Corey becomes the Shape entirely. When the police go to retrieve his body for the body count, he's gone.

Start the new franchise off with the new Shape, his voice strained due to the stab wound, most likely becoming selectively mute because it hurts to talk. The reason he becomes the Shape isn't so much an infection as a transfer of what the town imprints onto the scapegoats. Laurie is affected, Allyson is affected, but the one that accepts his role the most? Is Corey. He sinks into it entirely. So you could plan a proper face off against them, get some really damn good fight scenes and be able to continue things. Laurie is killed in the next movie, yes, I know, that's taboo ooooOOOoo.. But have Allyson pick up the mantle as the final girl. Trying to get through to her partner, and realizing she can't.

The last person in her life is too far gone, and they face off in the finale.