#especially so early in the series makes it feel like there isn't even like. an antagonist

[slash-me-please]

Hello! Nice day, afternoon or evening. :)

I wanted to see if you could and if you wanted to do a post where the Slashers have a S/o who is very calm, (not a very strawberry girl type, no!)I mean, more like calm, maybe curious and so, as if she were on drugs! And suddenly she has her most sadistic and/or wild side.

(I hope that I have been understood ;"( ) (Oh, you can add whoever, but if you can, especially Stu, from ghostface, Hannibal "The series" and Michael Myers :>)

Please :}

Warnings: Descriptions of murder, blood, sexual tension

A/N: I hope this is what you were hoping for, or at least something close to it. I decided to do a little blurb instead of headcanons, I hope this is okay with you :) I have not wrote for hannibal for a while- so i hope this isn't ooc. I feel like I kinda took on my own idea, I wasn't sure with how to make reader sadistic without going the whole "shes a slasher too" which is a trope I will continue to hate until my days end. I got my inspo from Secretary (2002)

Rebirth

Each day had been unexciting for you, unenjoyable. You had fun in erratic ways- ways erratic for you. Your coworkers saw you as anyone normal, you sipped your coffee quietly at your desk in the mornings- the New York Times crossword of the day clasped tightly in the other hand. You weren't sure you ever wrote any of the answers down as much as you pondered the words on the paper.

Before you met Hannibal, a psychiatrist that your friend Will introduced you to, you spent your nights with a wild look in your eyes. Nothing brought that spice to your life that you craved. None of the past boyfriends ever had the same ideas- they had all been boring. Your first love always teased you about it, laughing about how he must have changed you for the worst. You let him have it, he wasn't correct- you didn't bother wasting the time to correct him. In a way, you had changed. That edge, the sharp curve you had at the young age of nineteen, the one which ignited your fire had long since been extinguished. You searched for a serenity in men that people spoke of- a willing, open man. You'd like to hide what you need from the public eye- and you wonder if that makes you a genius or a coward while your first love bent you over the seat of his motorcycle.

Taking a swig of your coffee, you type away at your desk. Your employer had you entering different numbers and words into some type of document, boring work. Your eyes shift to your phone screen just as it lights up, a text from your newest cover-up boyfriend, Hannibal.

"Please arrive at precisely six p.m. for dinner,"

A simple text, one you could easily follow. Your eyes glanced at the clock, 2:43 p.m. You pressed the power button on your computer.

"Hannibal!" You knocked on the door, it fell open with a squeak. You took it as an invitation, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. "Hannibal! I'm a little early but I thought maybe you would want help?" Still no reply. You walk through the hallway and into the kitchen. Standing still, you take a breath in and examine your surroundings. It's almost dead quiet, and then you hear a sound you cannot quite describe. Your chins shifts upwards towards a vent and goosebumps erupt on your skin.

A crack resounds, bouncing off the metal walls and ringing in your ears. Then a thump, a loud thump. You're suddenly inspired to make your way to Hannibal's bedroom, the door is shut and you wrap around the handle and breathe in an excited breath. The door swings open, and you gasp. Your boyfriend hovers over your first love, his hand is holding the wooden handle of- what looked like one of the emergency axes that you'd find nestled in the glass box of a professional building. His head is split, blood seeping into the cream colored carpet, also rolling in thick puddles over the hardwood floor.

"Hannibal?" "I told you, six."

Your eyes dilate and you take a few steps closer. He watches you, curious when you start to giggle. "Is this dinner?" He stays silent, you expect it almost, you don't care for his answer anyways. You step to the side, sliding your heels off and stepping forward into the puddle of blood. "There's no need to ruin a good pair of shoes." You gasp, falling onto your knees and setting your hands face down into the liquid soul. You feel it explore the creases of your hands, soaking your pantyhose and you cackle out something evil. "I fucking hated them all."

"When the detectives question you, you'll be heartbroken." He steps closer to you, avoiding the dirtied floor. Hannibal takes pleasure when you nod and lean forwards. "I'm heartbroken." He lifts his hand and brings it to your head, guiding it down to help you press your cheek onto the cold floor. "Go shower, I have to get started cooking."

[atomicsuperrobot]

Man having read the first chapter of Encore now that it's translated and looking back at the title page of the last chapter I stopped at at Yet Another Failed Start At A Reread Of The Original (it was chapter four this time; p sure I made it farther last time), the difference is pretty startling. Everything looked so jank back then compared to now LMAO

I do wholeheartedly love the improvement tbh. ig it was only natural after 15+ years of drawing the guy.

[mcl-mia]

//another day, another route completed! this time we have nox, and amazingly, i don't think i have too many thoughts on this one, mostly because a lot of them cover... multiple bases. i'll try to explain that the best i can. blah blah blah, beware of spoilers.

okay, so i actually briefly started nox's route when it was first released, but i had to abandon it because... well, it was a bad idea to do that when i was so behind on routes in the first place, so it's not like i was going in 100% blind. this did not lead to a detrimental experience lol.

so.... nox. look. he's hot. i like his stupid little mullet and his very charming blue eyes, okay? he's hot and i'm not going to pretend that he isn't. it is still annoying to me though that you can REAAAAAALLLY tell that he was drawn by a different sprite artist. one of the best parts of the night class is that they ARE drawn by the same person, so it makes the cast look AND feel cohesive. not the biggest complaint, but it DOES bother me very slightly every time i look at nox when he's on screen with another character.

i've expressed this before, but nox's outfit as "nightmare" is... not great and knowing that it is COCO'S fault? absolutely hilarious. nox, i'm begging you to never take fashion advice from a cat again. i can fix you.

coming off that note, i know that there was budgeting issues for WH at this point in time (i believe nox's route came out around the time obey me got released, so... yikes), but i REALLY wished that they would have given nox a different pose or SOMETHING to hide that it was nox a little better. something like how the day class boys have different sprites for when they are holding their wands. i know that they basically stopped doing this after the night class boys (unless your name is alfonse), but.... sigh. come to think of it, i don't think even klaus had his front-facing sprites re-touched with the new ministry clothes. can't believe i didn't realize that until now.

i do also appreciate that they make sure to mention that nox's voice DOES change while he's in costume. i was wondering about that for the longest time lol.

speaking of chocolate cake, i am very glad that coco was a very minor character. coco is so one-note, which is disappointing because i think coco has a fantastic design. weird how that works out.

overall, the route itself is... fine. it's very day class-core, in which liz and nox get together very quickly. i mean, they TECHNICALLY get together only in the final chapters, but the quickness of both nox and rex falling in love with liz... goodness. y'all have known each other for like, 5 days. chill.

okay, i can't NOT talk about the love triangle. look, i'll be honest, it's so hard to sell a love triangle in an otome game. like, narratively, liz by the point in time rex's route begins, doesn't even reciprocate rex's feelings. it's funny to me in the moment knowing this, but it is a little annoying in practice. imo, if your love triangle is unable to become a reasonable threesome then don't write a love triangle. imo, nox and rex lack that kind of chemistry, so it's not the Good Shit. not to say that i don't think nox and rex shouldn't be hate-fucking each other (because they should, we love rivals to lovers here), it's just that they don't know how to fucking share and it would be way too distracting and nothing would happen. do you understand what i mean by this. i can't wait to get to gray's route so i can see liz turn the both of them down.

i will never tire of lucious being such a good friend.

genuinely, this puts a smile on my face. like, all of the night class boys do, but lucious being the first person to notice when liz falls in love is so important to me (ESPECIALLY BECAUSE AMELIA!!! IS STILL!!!!! BARELY HERE!!!!!!!!!). i love that liz has another person to talk about boys with. it's so delightful.

i do appreciate that nox has a good reason for being the phantom thief, but... come on, man. you're REALLY telling me that NOBODY is going to figure out that you're nightmare? let's just compile the evidence for a sec:

works in a magical tool shop (strike 1)

said magical tool shop SPECIALIZES in roger nigel's tools, which nox is an expert on. like, at some point you have to wonder where they're getting their stock, even if nox keeps the important ones hidden.

while nox does use his mother's maiden name, i'm pretty sure that anyone that looks into roger nigel in ANY capacity is going to figure out who roger's wife was. i would not be surprised if rex, who is literally a reference dept. worker, would have access to this info. this would expose his relationship to roger immediately.

the way nox does his calling cards for the cast is dangerous. rex picks up on the fact that nightmare had "convenient timing, like he was listening in on their conversations" (which... lol, he was). there is a point where he literally sends one while in the SAME ROOM as everyone else (especially rex, who 100% has him figured out). ballsy, but unnecessarily risky. i'll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he doesn't do this with all of his calling cards.

if liz can look into nightmare's eyes and be able to tell it's nox, i'm sure the other people who spent many years with him would be able to do do the same.

like, come on man. be a better phantom thief LMAO.

actually, i want to talk about rex for a second. because i will admit, i don't find him nearly as attractive or interesting as nox, but i have to respect the HUGE big dick energy play he did in nox's happy ending.

LIKE. HOLY SHIT. ACTUALLY GREAT TWIST. i actually gasped lmao.

the 'our little brothers' comment does certainly solidify to me that rex already figured it out, though. i'm curious to see why he hasn't turned nox in yet... but i'm sure it has something to do with their rivalry. whatever it is, i think it's a selfish reason, since i doubt rex would know the real reason why nox is collecting the tools.

overall it's not a bad route, it's just not very remarkable. since there's no big bad threat looming over the narrative, there's less stakes. i get the feeling as though this mystery series (and possibly the next two, but i hear that clive's route has some particularly juicy dramatic bits so we'll see) is going to feel like a filler arc. not a bad thing by any means, it's very welcome, but just not as fulfilling as some of the other routes in the game. again, it's very day class-core, so it does evoke some nostalgic feelings in that way.

[keikikait]

unfortunately should’ve been me is the last part of that series but i could do a jj fic with this as the plot if you want!!!

Yessss please if you can 🥹

ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʀᴏᴏᴍ (ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

read my other jj fic here!

pairing: jj maybank x pouge!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 6.2k

summary: jj is more than happy to cheer you up after an argument with rafe

warnings: SMUT 18+: grinding, blowjob, throat fucking, no p in the v, dom!jj & sub!reader, friends to lovers, reader is…pining u guys… jj too, light angst (some self-esteem issues, nothing too detailed)

a note: am i a jj girl now?

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You knew that JJ hated Rafe, yet you dated him anyway.

Well, date being a very loose term. You weren't Rafe's girlfriend, just one of the girls on his long, long roster. Rafe did care, somewhat, but he wouldn't actually commit to you, especially not after he started seeing Sofia.

You didn't want to be second best, or even third best. You wanted to be his first choice, so you marched yourself over to his new place in Figure 8 and stood your ground, claiming that if he didn't want you completely, you would find someone else. Rafe, as usual, didn't take your threats seriously, sending you off with a curt 'Sofia's coming over. We can talk later.'

You held back tears as you made your way out of Figure 8, arms wrapped around your stomach, fingers digging into your side. How could you be so stupid? As if Rafe Cameron would commit to anything that isn't a beer bottle and a bump off of someone's keys.  

The sun was setting, the wind blowing off the ocean thick and hot, a storm's warning on the horizon. You make your way down the street, heading into The Cut. All you wanted to do was go home, lay down, and wallow in your self-pity. You hear music in the distance, one hand coming up to cover your face from the sun as you squint. The Boneyard is packed, especially for this time of day, a bonfire already roaring, smoke billowing into the sky. 

There, among the Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons, is JJ. 

You stop dead in your tracks, watching him. Your breath catches in your throat, hands clenching into fists as you watch him laugh, throwing his head back before bringing the beer bottle to his lips. He takes a long sip before continuing, talking about something with Pope, gesturing with his hands. His hair shines in the sun, the orange and pink hues streaking the sky illuminating his sun kissed skin in a way that makes your thighs clench--

No. He's your best friend. It would be weird.

It doesn't stop you from turning off of the sidewalk, walking onto the sand and right over to him. Your stomach flips, and you’re suddenly nervous, and you consider turning right back around and walking away. But you don’t, in fact you don't say anything as you grab his shoulder, spinning him around and wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest.

“Woah, hey,” JJ says, putting his free hand on your back. “What’s wrong?” You shake your head, not wanting to talk. Your eyes well with hot, shameful tears, and you grip him tighter, fingers clenching on the fabric of his t-shirt.

JJ frowns, slowly pulling back and getting a better look at your face. “Hey, hey,” he whispers, putting a hand on your cheek. “What's the matter?” He pulls his lower lip in between his teeth, looking you up and down. He knew you had gone to see Rafe today, and knowing the asshole, he had a feeling that it had something to do with that.

You just shake your head again. “Can’t… can’t talk about it,” you sniffle, trying to stop the tears as they start to fall, running down your face. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

JJ’s face softens, reaching down to push his beer bottle into the sand, wrapping his now free arm around you, rubbing circles on your back. “Okay, we don't have to talk about it. Shhh…” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your temple. His left hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in even closer so that your bodies are pressed together. You can feel his heartbeat in his chest, a steady rhythm against your cheek as he holds you.

You cling to him, arms wrapped tight around his waist as you cry, face buried in his chest. He holds you for a moment, his heartbeat still steady against your ear. As you keep crying, his pulse quickens, his grip on you tightening. “Do I need to beat his ass?” JJ's voice is low, quiet, making sure that only you hear him. You shake your head, resting your cheek on his chest. He just holds you, feeling you tremble as you cry, feeling you cling to him tighter when the sobs get worse. He doesn't say anything, just keeps his arms wrapped around you, swaying back and forth slowly. The other Pogues see you and JJ, glancing over in concern. John B frowns, watching you for a moment before giving JJ a concerned look. 'Everything okay?' He mouths.

JJ nods, reaching his hand up to intertwine his fingers into your hair. “You’re okay. He’s not worth crying over, sweet girl.”

“I just feel so stupid,” you mutter, reaching up to wipe away some tears. “He makes me feel so naïve. I can’t believe I ever thought that he would like me.”

JJ frowns, taking your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face, putting your hand on his chest. “You’re not stupid. You’re not naïve. He’s just an ass, and he’s not worth your tears.” he puts his hand on your jaw, tilting your head up so that you’re looking at him. With his thumb, he wipes away your tears, his gaze soft as he looks at you. “It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for the way that he is.”

You sniffle, burying your face back into his chest. You take a deep breath, your chest aching. JJ smells so good and you squeeze him tighter. “I know I shouldn’t, but I still do.”

JJ holds you, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. There’s a beat of silence, JJ’s hand slowly rubbing your back before he speaks again. “Come on. Do somethin’ to take your mind off it,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “How about a swim? Or how about you and I go drinkin’ until you can’t remember what that dude looks like?”

You let out an involuntary whine as JJ pulls away, his hands moving to your hips. You yank him back into a hug, hands sneaking under the hem of his shirt to feel his back. “No. Don’t go, please.”

JJ’s breath hitches as your hands go under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his back. His pulse quickens, his hands sliding up to your hips, fingers curling against your skin, pushing your tank top up a little. “Fuck,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. He’s silent for a moment, his eyes roaming over your face, looking from your eyes to your lips. The feeling of your hands on his bare back makes something shift in the pit of his stomach, sending a shiver down his spine. He bites his tongue, trying to fight the desire to grab your face and kiss you until all you can think of is him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” he says, pulling you closer, moving one hand off of your hip to tangle his fingers back into your hair. “We could head back to my place. Nobody will be there.”

You nod, pressing your fingers against his spine. “I just wanna be with you.”

The feeling of your fingers trailing down his back cause him to tense up, his muscles flexing under your touch. He pulls his lip between his teeth, looking down at you. JJ’s gaze moves down from your eyes, slowly trailing across your face, down to your neck, and all the way down to the curve of your hips. He wants you. He’s wanted you for months. But he was too scared to say anything, never even allowing himself to think about it. And now you’re looking at him with those pretty eyes, begging him to take you home.

When he doesn’t say anything, you speak up, “Please?”

His eyes snap back to yours, his breath catching in his throat. He swallows hard, the feeling of your hands still under his shirt and the desperation in your voice making him weak in the knees. He’s never been able to tell you no, no matter what, and now is no exception. “Yeah,” he says, his voice coming out in barely more than a whisper. “Yeah, baby.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you suck in a soft breath. Your hands start to tremble, your stomach filling with butterflies. “Baby?”

His eyes widen, his face turning slightly red. He hadn’t meant to call you that, but it came out before he could stop himself. “Sorry,” he mumbles, averting his gaze down to your neck, feeling embarrassed. “Didn’t mean to say that. Force of habit.” Even though he didn’t really use that ‘force of habit’ very often. Ever, actually. JJ didn’t even call the girls he slept with “baby”, so he didn’t understand why it came out so naturally with you.

Oh. You look away for a second before meeting his eyes, your stomach churning. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind it.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, a smile barely starting to form on his lips before disappearing. “Yeah?” he says, his voice still coming out at a low register. He lets his hand trail from your hip up to the skin under your tank top, his fingers brushing against the curve of your rib cage. “You didn’t mind it?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m your baby.”

JJ feels his heart skip a beat, his face turning redder. He swallows heavily, hearing those words come out of your mouth making him dizzy. 

His baby. Holy shit. 

JJ’s breath catches in his throat, his thumb tracing the curve of your waist through your shirt. The possessiveness in you, saying that you’re his, and not Rafe’s. He didn’t realise how much he wanted to hear that until now. He’s known that he wanted you to belong to him, but he never expected you to just say it, let alone so easily. JJ swallows, his eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to yours. “You are. You’re my baby.”

You smile softly, standing on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Can we go to your place?”

JJ swallows hard, feeling your hands on his neck, feeling you against him. He leans down, a hand on your thigh to keep you steady as you stand on your toes. “Yeah, baby. Let’s go.” He breathes, barely able to keep his hands off of you. He wants to grab you, pull you closer, hold you tighter, touch you.

He grabs your hand before tugging you out of the Boneyard.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Thankfully, Luke isn’t home. 

You sit down on JJ’s bed cross-legged, watching him as he shuts and locks his bedroom door, just in case. “Thanks, Jay.”

JJ leans against the door, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He feels like he’s going crazy. Being alone in his room with you, so close, is making it hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He knows that right now isn’t the time, that you’re upset, but he can’t stop thinking about kissing you. His eyes flick over to you, watching you sit cross-legged on his bed. His bed. “It’s nothin’.” He murmurs, leaning back against the door.

You pat the spot next to you. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, his lip getting caught between his teeth for a moment. He pushes himself up from the door, slowly walking over to his bed. He sits down next to you, sitting cross-legged just like you, leaving only a few inches of space between you. He can smell the coconut conditioner in your hair again, the familiar, comforting, intoxicating smell making his heart pound. JJ glances over at you from the corner of his eye, his leg bouncing up and down on the floor. “So, what, uh… what was the issue with Rafe?”

“I told him that I wasn’t comfortable being an option,” you say, sitting up straight. “And that I didn’t want to continue things with him if he wasn’t going to make a commitment.”

JJ nods, listening intently. “And he didn’t commit?” he guesses, knowing Rafe enough to know that the dude would never make a commitment, especially to someone who was willing to put out without it.

You sigh. “He told me we could talk later. I left after that.”

JJ purses his lips, his gaze turning from you to the wall. “Guy’s a piece of work. Why would you want to be with someone like that anyway?” he asks, his voice taking on a somewhat annoyed tone. “He doesn’t treat anyone like they matter, let alone the women he sleeps with. You really wanna be with a guy like that?”

You shift on his bed, starting to fidget with your hands. “I thought he liked me, and I thought I liked him.”

JJ swallows hard, his chest feeling tight as he watches you. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to hear you talk about how you felt about another guy. He didn’t want to hear about the time you had spent with Rafe, or your feelings for him. It wasn’t fair. He was the one who wanted you, yet you wanted Rafe. He wanted to tell you that, more than anything. But he didn’t. “Thought you liked him?”

“I don’t know if I do,” you say, shrugging. “I don’t know if I liked him or if I liked the attention he gave me, you know?”

JJ swallows hard, his heart pounding. His eyes move back over to you, his gaze running over your body for a moment before coming back to your face. Hearing you talk about liking the attention that some dude gave you feels like a punch in his gut. He clears his throat, his leg still bouncing up and down. “Were you just with him ‘cause you liked all the attention?” he asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall opposite him.

“Probably,” you say. “He isn’t exactly a fun guy to be around when he’s not in like…friends with benefits mode or whatever.” JJ clenches his jaw as you talk about the situationship you had with Rafe. He doesn’t know why he never thought about you and Rafe doing those things, especially when everyone in the Cut knew about Rafe’s reputation. But now that he’s thinking about it, all he sees is Rafe’s hands all over you. Rafe’s hands on you, Rafe’s lips on you, Rafe’s cock in your tight little cu-- 

“You wanted his attention that badly, huh?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“I think I just wanted attention, JJ,” you say, leaning back on your palms. “I just…wanted someone to want me, you know?”

JJ’s breath catches in his chest, his heart aching. He didn’t realise how badly you craved attention until now. He doesn’t understand why you think that someone wouldn’t want you, because everyone wanted you. He wanted you. Why wouldn’t someone want you? He swallows thickly, the image of you with another man making the pit of his stomach ache. He wanted you to be his. He hated seeing another man touch you, kiss you, be inside you. He wanted to be the one with his face buried between your legs, feeling you grind on his face before cumming for him like a good girl.

He glances over at you, seeing you lean back on your palms. His eyes trail down to your body, your shirt sitting a little lower than it was before, showing some of your cleavage. He shifts his legs as another wave of heat washes over him. “Everyone wants attention, baby.”

You sigh, laying down on your back, legs propped up. “I know. I just wish he wasn’t such an asshole.”

JJ glances back over at you, taking in the sight of you laying down, before looking back at the wall. He leans against the headboard, propping his arm up on his knee so he can lean his head on his hand. The way you’re lying there is starting to drive him crazy. He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the thoughts racing through his head. “I’m still tryna figure out why you would want to be with him in the first place.” he murmurs, his eyes glued to the wall.

“Because I want someone to want me!” You say, throwing your arms over your head. “I want to feel wanted. I want someone to crave me, JJ.” Your tank top rides up, exposing more of your stomach, and JJ can’t keep his eyes off of it.

JJ swallows, his jaw clenching. That’s how he felt about you. He knew that he shouldn’t, but he craved you. It was like an addiction, wanting to be around you, wanting your attention, wanting you to touch him. He bites his tongue, trying to keep himself from saying what he’s thinking. “Well, you don’t need to be with assholes like Rafe in order to feel wanted, baby. Plenty of people want you.”

“Like who?” You ask, looking over at him. He’s not even looking at you, eyes on the wall, and your chest aches and burns. “You’re not even looking at me, JJ.” Your mind spins and swirls as you look away from him. Did he want you? Did anyone want you? JJ was being so nice and sweet earlier, calling you baby and holding you while you cried, and now he won’t even look at you.

JJ’s heart jumps into his throat as you say that, his breath catching in his chest. He wants to look at you, he does. But he knows that if he looks at your face, his eyes will trail down to your chest. Your legs. Your thighs. And he can’t. Because he’ll do something that he’ll regret. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the wall. “Trust me, baby. There’s plenty of guys that want you.” 

“Like who?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” JJ mumbles, his jaw clenching. It’s like you can’t even fathom the fact that other guys would want you. He knows he shouldn’t say it. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth, his voice growing louder. “I want you, sweetheart. I’ve always wanted you. I always will.”

You suck in a breath, goosebumps running over your skin, the hair on your arms standing up. “What?”

It’s like the dam just broke open, his voice coming out in a rush, too quick, the words barely coming together. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for months, and I know that I shouldn’t. I know you ain’t into guys like me, but I can’t stand the idea of someone else havin’ you. I want to be the one touching you. Kissing you. Being with you. Bein’ the guy that calls you baby, because you are my baby.” JJ looks away, his eyes red rimmed with tears.

“JJ…” You sit up, moving to your knees. JJ swallows back his tears, his fingers clenching at the fabric of his shorts. His leg is still bouncing nervously, faster than before, his heart pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous, feeling so vulnerable. He looks over at you as you move, his breath leaving his chest when he sees you on your knees in front of him.

Silence. 

“Do you really mean that?” You ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer, instead, he just looks at you. His eyes run from your face down to your waist, stopping for a moment at your legs before coming back to your eyes. His lip trembles, his chest aching as he sees the sincerity in your eyes. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “Yeah, baby. I mean it. I want you so bad, it’s killin’ me.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He murmurs, swallowing as he holds your gaze. “Every time I see you with Rafe, every time I see him touch you, it kills me. Because I know that you ain’t mine, no matter how much I want you, I can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to be with you. I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, or touch you, or call you mine. It’s like I’m goin’ crazy.”

Fuck, he can’t get enough of the look you’re giving him. Your eyes are so wide, sparkling in the dim light of his bedroom. Your lips are glossy and puffy, and all he wants to do is pin you down and kiss you senseless. He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes flicking over your body again, his heart racing as he watches you kneel in front of him. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, knows that it’s probably going to go badly. But he doesn’t care. He’s wanted you in so many ways, and hearing you doubt that someone wants you makes him want to take you right here and now. “Baby,” he breathes, his hands shaking at his sides. “Come here.”

You move over to him without hesitation, continuing to kneel on the bed.

God, you’re so obedient. JJ sits up straight when you get closer, his eyes running over you as he looks you up and down, biting his lip when he sees you move in front of him. He reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you to kneel between his legs, his back against the headboard. His eyes are dark when he looks back up at you, his breathing heavy as his chest rises and falls. “Look at you,” he murmurs, shaking his head in awe. “Kneeling in front of me like a goddamn angel.”

Your thighs clench and you reach out to grab him, your hands landing on his biceps. “JJ…”

He grunts as your hands land on his bicep, his muscles flexing under your touch. His hands come up to your wrists, his fingers wrapping around them, feeling your pulse beating fast under his fingertips as he pulls you to sit on his lap. “God,” he groans, biting his tongue, his body tense. He looks up at you with a pleading gaze, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. “Kiss me,” he half whispers, half begs, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Please.”

You lean forward and kiss him, leaning your chest against his. You go to cup his face, to run your hands through his hair, but JJ keeps your wrists tight in his hands. JJ’s breath catches in his chest when your chest presses against his own, his eyes closing as he feels your lips on his. He has you right where he wants you, on his lap, your chest pressed against his, your hands in his, keeping you from running. 

But he wants more. He doesn’t want you to get away. 

He releases one of your wrists, catching it with his other hand, moving his free hand to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and using it to pull you closer. “No,” he grunts against your lips. “Hands to yourself.”

You whimper and whine, grinding up against him, his hardening cock right over your clit. “JJ…”

He moans, his head tilting back as he feels you grinding up against him. Your whining and whimpering makes it so hard to keep his composure, his jeans feeling tighter with every movement you make against him, his cock throbbing in his boxers. He swallows hard, gritting his teeth as he looks up at you, his breath coming in short, harsh pants. “What,” he huffs, pulling lightly on your hair so you’re looking at him. “You think you’re in charge here?”

“No,” You murmur. “I know you’re in charge.”

He groans again, the sound sending a jolt straight through his groin. Hearing you say that he’s in charge, hearing you say that you know he’s in charge, drives him crazy. He pulls on your hair just a little harder, his eyes fixed on yours. “Then be good,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Listen to what I tell you, baby. No touching.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss him again, squirming in his lap. He lets you kiss him, his fingers still tangled in your hair, his chest rising and falling as he fights to keep his composure. He groans again when he feels your hips moving against him, pulling you in for a rough, hungry kiss, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. 

His hand moves from your hair to cup your jaw, his grip tight and possessive as he keeps your face where he wants it, pulling back from your lips after a moment and looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his voice coming out as a rough whisper. “Stop moving, sweetheart.”

You hold back a squirm. “I’m sorry.”

He sighs, tugging lightly on your hair again when he hears the pleading tone of your voice. “What did I just say, baby?” he asks, his chest rising and falling as he pants. “I told you to be good, and I told you to stop moving. You gonna listen to me, or are you gonna keep trying to act like you’re in control?”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” You say desperately, trying not to squirm again.

“Good,” JJ tugs you closer. “You wanna make it up to me?” He nods along with you, a smirk appearing on his face. “Good, good girl. You wanna do something for me, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You say softly, nodding.

“Alright,” He says, tugging on your hair again. “Get off the bed. Get on your knees,” You don’t hesitate, scrambling down onto the ground as he shifts his position, moving to hang his legs off of the side of the bed. JJ hands you a pillow and you slide it under your knees before pawing at his shorts, rubbing the button with your thumb. 

“Atta girl,” he grunts, his eyes roaming over you, his cock throbbing at the sight of you kneeling in front of him. He slowly unbuttons his shorts, taking his time to unzip them and pull them down, revelling in the desperate look in your eyes. He watches you squirm and whine as he pushes his shorts down, taking them off completely. He reaches down and grabs his cock through his boxers, rubbing the ever-growing spot of pre-cum. “Come on, baby. Show me how good you are.” You’ve been sitting and waiting for his permission, kneeling all cute and pretty like a good girl. You immediately reach out, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down. 

His cock springs out, throbbing and dripping with pre-cum.

He’s huge. A lot bigger than you thought he would be, thick and long and slightly curved to the right, with huge balls to match. Your mouth waters. “Go on, then,” JJ says, giving his cock a few slow strokes. The tip glistens with pre-cum, drawing your gaze. He smirks, enjoying the way you're staring hungrily at his cock. “Wrap your pretty lips around it.”

He lets go of his shaft, allowing it to bob free and twitch in the air between you. His heavy balls sway with the movement, full and ripe. The musky scent of his arousal fills the room, making your head spin with desire. JJ's breathing grows ragged as he waits for you to obey. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he's loving every second of it. “Don't make me tell you twice, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice low and gravelly with need.

You lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick a bead of pre-cum from the tip of his cock, your eyes never leaving his face as you revel the look on his face, his eyes rolling back as his eyebrows furrow. With a soft moan, you open your mouth wide and take the rest of him, your lips stretching to accommodate his girth.

You start to bob your head, working his length with slow, deliberate movements. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking in time with the rise and fall of your mouth. You can feel his pulse throbbing against your tongue, and it only spurs you on, wondering what it would feel like when he cums in your mouth. As you suck him deeper, you use your teeth to gently scrape along the underside of his shaft, eliciting a low groan from JJ.

“Fuck yes,” JJ hisses through clenched teeth, his hips jerking involuntarily as you work his cock with that sweet mouth of yours. “Good girl.” He can feel every inch of your hot, wet tongue tracing the veins on his shaft, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. Your gentle scrape of teeth sends jolts of pleasure straight to his balls, making them draw up tight.

JJ threads his fingers through your hair, gripping it firmly as he starts to thrust shallowly into your mouth. “That's it, baby... Take it all…” Each word is punctuated by a slight push of his hips, forcing more of his thick cock past your stretched lips. He can see the effort it takes you to accommodate him, and it only turns him on more. As you stroke his length with your hand, his grip on your hair tightens, guiding your head faster over his cock. “God, I just wanna fuck your throat.”

God, fuck, you’ve never wanted anything more. Your thighs clench as you scoot closer. You nod eagerly, relaxing your throat.

“Fuck…” He murmurs, feeling your throat relax around him. He gives one last hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt in your warm, welcoming mouth. “Fuck yeah... that's it, baby…” He holds you there for a moment, letting your throat adjust to his size. He holds your head still, using your mouth for leverage as he throat fucks you, his balls slap against your chin with each brutal thrust. He can feel his orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in his core. “Gonna cum soon, baby... Gonna fill this pretty mouth up…” JJ's words are punctuated by guttural grunts as he loses himself in the sensation of your warm, willing throat swallowing his cock.

He throws his head back, hands gripping your hair at the root as he fucks your throat, balls tightening at the feeling of your gags and your nails digging into his thighs. Tears sting your eyes, but you take it, trying to relax your throat, trying to be a good girl. JJ grips your hair tight, panting. “Fuck, baby, baby, fuck, I’m gonna cu-”

Someone pounds on the door.

He groans loudly, letting go of your hair. His cock twitches from his delayed release, his balls clenching uncomfortably. “Fucking Christ, of course.” 

You pull off, wiping some of the spit off of your mouth. “Do you want me to get it?”

“No, it’s probably my dad,” JJ grumbles, standing up from his bed. He grabs a pair of sweatpants, stepping into them and tying the string, tucking his cock up into the waistband. “Fucking asshole.” You stand up, fixing your hair and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You follow JJ out of his room, tailing behind him as he heads into the living room. You lean against the wall, arms crossed across your chest, as JJ opens the door. 

You’re expecting Luke. Maybe even John B or Pope.

But definitely not Rafe.

Rafe stands in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you, then at JJ, a smirk appearing on his face. “There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking for you.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, stepping away from the wall and approaching the door. You grab JJ’s hand, squeezing it. JJ tenses up beside you as Rafe’s eyes flick over to the two of you, taking in the sight of you holding JJ’s hand. His gaze seems to linger for a split second, his smirk growing a bit wider as he eyes you up. 

“I just wanted to see if you were ready to talk, sweetheart,” He says, his eyes locked on you. “I told you earlier that we would talk after Sofia left.”

“I’m sticking with my decision, Rafe,” You say immediately. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. Not if you’re going to treat me as second best.”

The smirk fades from Rafe’s face as you talk, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he looks at you. He’s clearly annoyed, clearly angry, but he’s doing a good job of keeping his cool, at least for now. “Come on, you don’t mean that--” he starts to say, taking a step forward.

JJ pushes him back out the door. “You heard her. Leave.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up at that, a scoff escaping his lips. “Who the hell are you to tell me to leave?” He asks, his voice taking on a tone of barely contained anger. “I’m here to talk to my girl.”

“Oh, your girl?” JJ laughs, looking back at you briefly. “That’s funny, because last time I checked, your girl was in my room, on her knees with my big fat dick in her mouth.”

Rafe’s eyes go wide as JJ says that, his fists twitching at his sides, trying to restrain himself from just swinging at him here and now. He grits his teeth, his jaw clenching, his face going red as his eye twitches. “Watch your mouth, Maybank.” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“Face it, man, she picked me,” JJ says. “She came to me, came into my arms, and let me bring her home.”

“Bullshit,” Rafe scoffs, taking a step forward, only to be pushed back again. He scoffs out a bitter laugh, his eyes darting between you and JJ. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Rafe,” You say, stepping forward. “Go home.”

Rafe looks back at you, still looking frustrated, but some of the anger in his eyes leaving upon seeing your face. “Sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft. “I think we need to talk, just the two of us.”

“I told you, I made my decision,” You say. “Go home.”

His eyes scan your face as you speak, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Baby, just let me talk to you for a minute, okay?” He says. “Please, just give me one chance to explain myself, and talk it out.”

“No, don’t--” You suck in a breath, trying to not get upset. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.”

Rafe’s lips twitch slightly as you say that, his fingers twitching again, his shoulders tense. “Please,” he says again, his voice sounding desperate now. “Just come outside and talk with me for a minute, come on.”

“Go home, Rafe.” You say again.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak again, but JJ cuts him off, pushing him back further, getting himself between you and the door. “You’re not welcome here, man,” he says, jaw clenched, shoving Rafe until his back is against the porch railing. “You heard her, she doesn’t want to talk to you. Now get the hell out of here before I make you.”

Rafe hesitates, seemingly embarrassed. His eyes flick from JJ to you, his fists clenching. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I’ll have you, one way or another.” He looks between the two of you, a look of disgust sweeping across his face before he leaves, heading down the porch stairs and over to his dirt bike. He climbs on, not even bothering to wear a helmet, before pushing the kickstand up and revving the engine. The tires spin, spraying dirt and sand onto the porch before he drives off, heading out of JJ’s driveway.

JJ grunts as he watches Rafe leave, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looks over at you once the dirt bike is no longer visible, his brow furrowed. “You alright?” He asks, his voice quiet.

You nod. “Yeah, I'm fine.” You squeeze his hand.

JJ nods, squeezing your hand back before looking back outside, making sure that Rafe is gone. He sighs, the tension in his body leaving his chest as he relaxes. “God, I hate that guy,” he mutters.

“Me too,” You sigh. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

He nods, a small smirk appearing on his face. “You just want me all to yourself, huh?” he says, taking your hand and leading you back into the house.

“Well, yeah,” You say, grinning as you both head back into his bedroom. “I have a job to finish, don’t I?”

JJ’s breath catches in his chest, his eyes growing dark as you speak, his hand tightening on yours. “God,” he groans. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’ll have me on my knees, baby.”

You push him onto the bed, kneeling on the pillow again. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be on my knees, JJ.”

He grunts as you push him, his eyes going dark as he looks down at you. “Yeah?” he says in a low, breathy voice. “You wanna get back down there, baby?”

You nod, palming his half hard cock over his sweatpants. “Yeah,” You smile softly. “I’m your baby.”

JJ nods, pushing some hair behind your ears. “Yeah, you’re my baby,” he grins and leans back on his palms, his cock growing harder under your hand. “Now come on, be a good girl and swallow my cock again.”

You bite your lip before starting to untie his sweatpants.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21 (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

[inthelittlewood]

So, just out of curiosity, are you thinking of making episodes for rats 2 like you did for all the other pow creations smps? If not, that's okay (:

I'm really not sure currently. For full transparency, the previous episodes of both series made on average about £40 individually. The occasional one flicked up to NEARLY £100, but they're real anomalies. Thumbnail costs take up a good portion of that 40, then what's left, divided by the hours it takes to condense masses of content down to episode form would be a wage grossly below minimum wage. It's not smart financially or motivationally to proceed that way.

I've always been proud of the end products of each episode / series but I had revenue coming from other sources that have since dried up. I can't make purely artistic decisions when I have mouths to feed and a home to maintain.

I've been quiet on video content this year because I've not had an SMP play in, so streaming became a primary earner. Even that was propped up significantly by our Logitech/Streamlabs sponsorship - which concluded unexpectedly early at the end of September due to budget adjustments on their end (zero bad feelings regarding that btw, it was all done fairly and by the contract, it was quarterly renewals and I was communicated respectfully with)

I'm lucky that Wild Life has come along when it has, as it gives me a little breathing room to try and secure a new sponsor or at least compile a content plan for late 2024 / early 2025.

Even my Life series barely pass the threshold to where an editor wouldn't gobble up the majority of the revenue. That one is a real 50/50 between coming out net neutral, or coming out with a minimal profit. It's rough. Speaking honestly, I'm a tad nervous about the immediate future, but I promise this isn't a post trying to rouse pity or spur on donations/subs etc, it's just transparency as I've always operated. It feels better laying it out so analytically because it gives people context and answers the FAQ of "why don't you just hire someone", the overhead isn't there.

I'm going to start putting the feelers out to try and secure a new partnership, I have one conversation pending and if we can I'll nab some sponsored streams more often to raise the tides.

That said, we are headed in to the best time of year for ad revenue on YouTube especially, but it's not quite the 5x multiplier I would need to sensibly navigate my situation ha

The only viable solution currently would be to crowd source funds to cover the costs of the work for making the episodes, whether that be paid to me and I edit them myself or more ideally, an editor, so I can focus my efforts in to producing another piece of content. I've no idea what the Patreon/Kofi/Crowdfunding landscape is like currently both mechanically and socially. Are they a thing people subscribe to anymore? They inherently come with more pressures too which I'm nervous to take on.

I'm likely to get inbox messages offering to edit for free or at a reduced fee, but PLEASE DON'T DO THAT. Even if you're framing it as good practice, or a portfolio/client list piece, I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. It's a very sweet gesture and I totally understand showing that initiative / sincerity, I've been there, but those scenarios can too often be miscommunicated or misconstrued and it gets messy. People's time and talents deserve compensation.

So tl;dr answer is I'm not sure, I might try an episode 1 to see how it performs, but it's not looking great. Sorry.

[asidian]

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

[muchanmocha]

Oh I'm going to have so much fun excavating this

Difference between Round 5 and Round 7 encounters

The reason for Luka's reaction

Breakdown of what Hyuna's existence means to Luka

How that influences their potential face-off

Luka and Hyuna’s reunion scene. In times past, they shared a bond like no other, but now they’ve gotten used to the years without each other.”

— Round 5 Commentary, Artbook [Translation by @/alnstENG]

The eye contact Luka and Hyuna make in Round 5 marks their first reunion after a long period of time.

Hyuna calmly looks over her shoulder at him, still sporting bruises and blood from the beating Mizi gave him.

Luka doesn't even bother to fully get up, merely staring up at her with his default blank expression as she leaves with his opponent's unconscious body.

Overall, an unusually calm reunion considering the emotionally-charged history between them.

Then we have Round 7.

In sharp contrast to their previous composed demeanor, this time they're both wide-eyed upon seeing each other, visibly affected by the encounter.

Makes sense for Hyuna, an extremely expressive character now standing face-to-face with the source of her biggest trauma.

But Luka? So far he's only shown us 3 types of expressions: blank, smirking, and gleeful. "In shock" is an unexpected addition, especially for someone who prides himself in being trained to anticipate anything that could go wrong on stage beforehand in order to maintain his constant heart rate. This is the most raw emotion we have ever seen from him outside of the strange, flushed smiles he's shown.

Why is he so shocked?

The simplest answer is that he didn't expect to see Hyuna here and now, yet the same reasoning should have applied even more so for the unexpected reunion in Round 5 which presumably took place years after they last saw each other. Hyuna has already crashed his performance once. Could he really not have anticipated her reappearance in the realm of possibilities he considered?

No, I think the key here isn't that he didn't expect Hyuna to be there.

It was the state she's in that prompted his reaction.

A core facet of Hyuna's character is her strength. We've seen that aspect of her reinforced again and again throughout her appearances in every piece of content we're given.

Remembering her trauma from whatever went down with Luka and Hyun Woo is the only time we ever see her weakness, but even then she bounces back with grit, determination, and cheer in All In.

"Every obstacle in my way"

"I've crushed them all"

"Step all over me but I'll rise again"

Luka and Hyun Woo are her only weaknesses. Short of that, she feels almost untouchable, infallible with the momentum she carries with every move.

This is the Hyuna we know, and the Hyuna Luka remembers.

But both we and Luka were wrong.

Hyuna now stands before him drenched in sweat, unable to even stand up straight, hair messed up and all over her face, dark bags under her eyes, and most hard-hitting of all — a gaping, bleeding wound in her side.

How does it feel to have the strongest person in his life, and in the series, stand before him in this condition? Reduced to this before they even faced each other?

His expression says it all.

But wait it's only going to get worse from here.

They're going to force him to face her now.

(The good news is, if they have a special round with their special guests, Hyuna would at least be given first aid and be out of immediate danger.)

A charismatic vocalist with a powerful voice and performance. If she had remained on Alien Stage, she might have become Luka's only rival...

— Hyuna's Profile, Artbook

Hyuna is simultaneously three types of existences for Luka, some potentially more canon or prominent than others.

1) Hyuna is the only person who can give Luka a sense of crisis.

Up until now, Luka hasn't taken any of his opponents seriously, including Mizi (Artbook Commentary) and Till (Patreon).

But Hyuna has been established as Luka's rival since early on and their stats certainly reflect that. She's the one person who has a chance of beating Luka, thereby also being the one threat he could ever face or treat seriously.

The fact that his greatest opppnent is injured now gives him an edge and in terms of survival, it's something he should take advantage of.

However—

2) Hyuna is also the "worthy opponent" he's been looking for this whole time.

Luka chose to compete again on Alien Stage for Season 50. Heperu could have been the real decision-maker here, but even if that were the case, I don't think Luka was unwilling. The stage is the only place he has full control of his life, so returning to it is like giving an alcoholic alcohol after leaving him dry for a spell.

In addition to the regular stages, he's looking forward to facing a "worthy opponent" in the finals (Magazine Interview).

If anyone could construct the perfect performance with him, if anyone could allow him to experience the most brilliant moments on stage, if anyone could be the worthy opponent he seeks... it'll be Hyuna.

The fact that she's not in top condition would certainly put a damper on that.

3) Hyuna is likely the only existence Luka has ever cared about.

Hyuna is the only person from beginning to end that Luka has shown to care about in any way whatsoever, to the extent that he wants to protect her. Of course, with the caveat that she submits.

Luka -> Hyuna [Intimacy 70%, #1]

No. You're just avoiding the current situation. If you were in my arms, your safety would be guaranteed....

Yet circumstances won't allow for that option anymore even in the unlikely situation where she was willing.

We can all see the upcoming death match implied in "Special Guests" — a showdown between the only two contestants to have ever successfully run away from Alien Stage, and the effective two-time reigning champion.

What kind of mental state is he going to go into this match with?

Does he steel himself and place survival above Hyuna regardless of what his past intentions have been? Take advantage of her weakened state for survival?

Does he falter, feet swept out from under him by the one situation he didn't anticipate?

Will he be conflicted for once in his life regarding whether he wants to win? Weighing survival and the safety of the one person he wanted to keep alive? For his victory means her certain death?

Or perhaps the most interesting choice of all.

He remorselessly goes through with it, chasing victory because that's all that defined him up until now, and while Hyuna is important to him — the only person important to him — she, at 70% intimacy, is not more important to him than his most primal instinct to survive. He who looks down on Season 50's competitors for getting caught up in their emotions (Patreon Q&A).

Or so he thinks.

Luka wins. He proves himself no better than his past opponents, losing himself to the basic desire to survive. This realization won't be pleasant.

He also proves himself wrong; it turns out Hyuna did matter to him more than he can reason, more than he thought.

Because despite his rationalization, she is the sole anchor he has in a world where he's made no human connections other than the hollow, baseless ones constructed in the five minutes on stage before his opponents are sent to their deaths. He'll need to continue to live without his remaining anchor in a world where he otherwise exists 24/7 in a micromanaged cage under the watch of Guardian Heperu, a certified control freak.

Thus he crumples before Mizi in their revenge match. Not because of Mizi especially, but because he is now living with the consequences of his own choices.

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (7)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 7.3k

— 🍄 summary: you’re invited for a night at the Addams house.

— ☕ content warnings: mentions of (mutual) stalking and taking photos without consent, smoking, weapons + firearms

— 🕸️ a/n: ok listen, i am a sucker for tropes.

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 7: the dinner party

october 30, 2004

The gates of the Addams house greet you with open iron rails, swinging open, just like before, without any kind of assistance. It only makes you hesitate for a moment, because you figure you're in for more of a shock once you get inside.

The Addams house looms tall and intimidating from atop the hill. The sun has nearly completed its descent past the treetops into the darkening wilderness, and the windows of the house are aglow with warm light. It makes it look more like a place fit for habitation.

The image of all of them cozied up at the dinner table, ready to share a meal together like a little family, pops into your mind. But it is very quickly shooed away, because it hurts a little to think of happy families.

A few old lamposts illuminate your way up the path. When you get a little closer, you can see shadows moving through the dirty glass windows.

Even in the darkness, you can see the overgrown weeds and crumbling stone that makes up the exterior of the house, and it makes you even more curious to see what it looks like inside.

Standing on the front landing, you check your watch. Five fifty-five p.m. The invitation said six sharp, so you figure it won't hurt to arrive a few minutes early.

The iron knocker is in the image of a black cat's head, with a mouse dangling by its tail as the handle. You grasp the mouse and rap it against the door three times.

A few moments pass before the old wood is creaking open.

You're half expecting the door to open by itself like the gate, but no. Jungkook stands there, dressed in a dark pinstripe suit with his hair in slick curls. The warm lamplight crawls across his face, but his strange paleness still startles you a little.

"Good evening," he greets you, opening the door wider to beckon you inside.

You're glad you're dressed adequately. The formal dress code was a little intimidating. You opted for slacks, a white button-up, tie, leather vest (even with a silver pocket watch chain for extra flare), and an oversized suit jacket. All with the leather coat you purchased at the bookshop thrown overtop to combat the cold.

Wearing a dress isn't ideal in any situation other than for looks, especially when you're carrying items that are meant to remain concealed, so you opted for a more practical outfit.

You're expecting the inside of the house to be just as decrepit as the outside, but this isn't the case. The long, elegant hallway is lined with framed oil paintings and sconces holding lit candles, flickering in the slight draft, an air that feels a little ghostly.

You follow Jungkook into a large foyer with polished floors and a tall domed ceiling overhead. A grand staircase that branches in two directions leads up to the balconied second floor.

You can't help stopping for a moment to admire the grandeur of the place. Every curve, every corner, is embellished with carved wood or shining brass accents. It isn't even dusty, let alone decrepit.

"Come," Jungkook says softly. "He's waiting for you in the lounge."

He leads you through more labyrinthine hallways, all aglow with candlelight, gesturing you through an oak door.

The room inside is dimly lit with soft lamps, a fully-stocked bar tucked into one corner, the remaining walls lined with full bookshelves. There's plenty of seating options, from plush-looking armchairs to curving sofas.

"I'll see where he's gone off to. Wait here, please," Jungkook blurts out, sounding nervous, and closes the door without waiting for a reply.

You take the opportunity to look around a bit.

Lush ferns decorate almost every potential empty space, probably thanks to Yoongi. There's a table in the center of the circle of seating options, crowded with appetizers. Oysters on the half shell, perfectly pink shrimp and cocktail sauce, chunks of fresh salmon with lemon wedges, all resting on giant slabs of ice.

You walk over to the ledge of the bar, examining all the fancy bottles and crystal decanters. Some of them have little tags hanging from their glass necks, labelling them. Blackberry vodka, silver rum, 0.3% cyanide, hemlock syrup.

It's just as you're ducking your head under to examine the hidden shelves behind the bar counter when a light voice interjects,

"Nosy little thing, aren't you?"

You turn to find the head of the house himself standing there in the doorway, though you didn't hear it open or him enter.

You've never seen him this close before. And what a vision he is. Dressed in all black, skin showing through the deep cut V in his shirt, hair slicked back, and a grin that's just as slick to match.

"Yes," you quip back, unapologetic. "I've made a career out of it."

His smile only widens, as if to say I'm well aware.

"Drink?"

"Please," you reply.

His smile, which is much brighter and lighthearted than you anticipated, remains as he crosses the room and stands behind the bar.

"Any preference?" he asks.

"Whatever you recommend," you answer, plopping down on the velvet green Chesterfield sofa, digging in your bag for your notes. At this point, it's less of a bag and more of a giant mess of papers and folders and photographs held together by a few pieces of straining fabric.

Hoseok plucks a perfect sphere of ice out of a silver dish, dropping it into a martini shaker. He grabs the decanter of blackberry vodka, and a few other bottles and mixers.

"Very thorough, aren't you?" he asks as he pours shots and drizzles into the shaker.

"That's right," you respond, spreading out the near-endless stream of documents according to the map in your head.

You can hear the clack of the shaker, the sound of its contents being poured. A moment later, a martini glass filled with near pitch-dark liquid, garnished with a blackberry, is placed by your side.

"Thank you," you say, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. There's the hint of flavored vodka, a berry tartness, and some other taste that you can't quite name.

Hoseok sinks down in the chair across from you with a matching glass in his hand, crossing one slim leg over the other.

"So," he begins, and you don't have to look at him to feel his eyes scanning you up and down. "You're the one she settled on to sort out this mess."

You pause your obsessive shuffling.

"She?"

In the middle of taking a sip from his drink, he looks at you like he's a little confused.

"The mayor? She is the one who hired you, isn't she?" he asks.

"Yes," you admit. "What of it?"

A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I admire your suspicion, ______," Hoseok says, and hearing your name from his mouth is strangely thrilling. "But you must trust me when I say that me and my family have done nothing to cause the deaths and disappearances, at least to our knowledge."

"Then you better start telling me what you know," you reply sharply, fixing him with a strict gaze, and he doesn't break it.

"That is why you invited me here, isn't it?" you ask. "To tell me what you know?"

Hoseok considers it for a moment.

"Of sorts, yes," he replies, cryptidly.

You suppress the slight annoyance that wants to creep into your expression, focusing back on your documents. Spreading out a map littered with red circles and connecting lines, you point to one of the marked indicators.

"This is the Addams House, correct?" you ask, instinctively using your interrogation voice without realizing it.

It makes Hoseok chuckle internally.

"Correct," he replies cooly.

"And these," you point to several of the red circles. "Are the last known locations of the five missing persons. Remarkably close, hmm?"

"Come now, ______," Hoseok says in a playfully chiding voice. "Location may be suggestive, but it isn't incriminating."

"I never said it was," you bite back. "I'm merely suggesting that this house, as well as the surrounding area, displays some very strange qualities. And I can't leave any stone unturned."

Hoseok nods, almost appreciatively.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, smiling that same radiant smile.

“You’ve done your job well, haven’t you?” he inquires, setting his glass down and rising from his seat, beginning to circle around the couch.

“I should hope so,” you reply a little hesitantly.

He passes by the bar and picks up the discarded martini shaker, fiddling with it, the ice inside clanking.

“How far-reaching are your investigative powers, I wonder?” he says.

He’s at your right-hand side, and suddenly he tosses the shaker halfway across the room in a perfect arc. It lands in the small sink at the bar counter with a loud clang.

Your head whips toward the sound, focus ripped away from the sea of papers.

When you look back at him, he’s adjusting his jacket lapels, sauntering back over to his seat.

“Far enough to get the job done, I suppose," you reply, trying to uphold a neutral yet strict tone of voice.

"Hmm," Hoseok says, raising a brow. "Far enough to constitute stalking?"

The back of your neck prickles.

"What makes you say that?" you ask, though both of you know well enough that you're playing dumb.

"Ever heard the expression "walls have ears?" Well, trees have eyes, and they've told me all about you."

He's back in his seat, but you still feel like he's circling around you. Not many people make you nervous, let alone intimidate you, but Hoseok is apparently one of the exceptions.

"You should know that I am very protective over my family," he says, the tone of his voice dipping a little deeper. "Naturally, I keep an eye on them."

With that, he reaches into his inside jacket and pulls out several files. Flipping open to specific pages, he throws them down on the coffee table between the two of you with a papery slap!

Staring up at you are several photos, and it takes you a second to recognize them as ones from your own camera.

Jimin, walking to class, his hand frozen in time while brushing through his hair. Taehyung, hands in his coat pockets, meandering through town on his way to the police station. Jin, leaning against the garden wall, cradling a coffee cup in his hands.

It takes you another few seconds to realize that the file is from the pile of folders you brought with you. He must've slipped it from you when he tossed the shaker into the sink, a diversion to make you turn your head.

A crooked grin, slick voice, and sticky fingers apparently.

"I admire the dedication even more than the suspicion," Hoseok says, reaching into his jacket again, but this time he pulls out a silver cigarette case.

He holds it towards you with a questioning tilt of his head, offering you one, but you shake your head. He takes one out, puts it to his lips and lights it with the flick of a lighter.

It doesn't smell like tobacco though, more like cloves and pennyroyal buds.

"Technically," you begin. "Stalking includes inducing fear in the victim; intimidation, threats, and the like."

The subtext is clear: good luck taking me to court for this.

A smile breaks out on his face.

"No harm done," he says. "They were quite flattered, actually."

You don't really know what to do with that statement. It must show on your face, because Hoseok smirks with an exhale of fragrant smoke.

"Don't worry about it, detective," he says, sounding amused. "We're all sinners here. What's a little felony charge here and there?"

You watch the ghosts of smoke twist from the end of the cigarette between his slim fingers. Something about the way the smoke moves is unusual, like it doesn't quite obey the laws of physics that normal smoke would.

"In fact," he says, reaching into his other jacket pocket. "I must admit that I'm a little guilty myself."

He takes out another folder, opens it, and lets it fall on the table. It's a mass of photos, and they're all of you. Sitting in the cafe through the window, walking through town, collecting samples at in the woods.

Now you know where that I'm being watched feeling was coming from. If you were normal, you might've been creeped out by it. But this isn't the first time you've been trailed and you doubt it will be the last.

"I'm curious, though," he starts. "What exactly made them worthy of stalking in the first place?"

You look down at the spread of appetizers like you're contemplating reaching for one. You're not going to mention how you've been trying to distract yourself from what you saw at the lake, or the fact that you find all the inhabitants of the Addams House to be a little too compelling.

"I knew that all of them were cagey if not outright lying about living here, and given this place's reputation, I found it necessary to dig deeper," you answer in a leveled voice.

"And you figured that this place might be connected to the disturbances?" Hoseok replies, though it doesn't sound like a question.

You set him with a firm gaze.

"I never ignore patterns."

He stares right back.

"Words? Yes. Actions? Sometimes. But never patterns."

He's really staring at you, like he's trying to find the answer to some unspoken question in his head. The look in his eyes is somewhere between inquisitive and impressed, maybe even—

"I think you have darker thoughts than you realize, detective," he says. The smoke tendrils from his last drag hang, mesmerizing, between the two of you.

"If you truly want to know what's strange about this place, I can show you."

He's leaning forward slightly in his chair, and but before you even have time to think about what that means, the loud clang of a bell is sounding through the air.

"Ah," Hoseok says, taking one last puff from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table. "That's Jin calling us to dinner."

He rises to a stand and straightens his jacket lapels.

"Once you're done with your cocktail, we'll head into the dining room."

You haphazardly gather your notes, down the rest of your drink, and follow him out of the room.

He leads you through the ornate hallways, quickly darkening with the setting of the sun. The sound of clinking dishes and pleasant chatter grows steadily louder.

When you emerge into what you presume is the kitchen, you're almost struck speechless.

It's a humongous, grand, high-ceilinged room, and nearly everything is in shades of green and gold. The dark marble floors are flecked with gold veins, the dark wood cupboards and drawers are fixed with gold handles, even the smell in the air has a rich, golden warmth to it.

The countertops are a deep jade quartz, and the floor to ceiling stained glass windows are in patterns of emerald and amber. More plants decorate the space, though these are taller and more lush.

The huge stove is crowded with copper pots and pans, all sizzling and bubbling and hissing with their savory aroma.

There's someone standing over the stove, wearing a crisp white button-up and black apron, a small saucepan in one hand, swirling sauce on a plate in fancy shapes. There's a whole line of plates before him, making him look like a master chef plating up a dish for a hoard of diners.

"Oh, hello _______," the man says cheerfully when he notices you, and you realize that it's Jin (though you guessed as much from his ridiculously broad shoulders).

The next second he's squirting something into a different pan, sending up a surge of sweet-smelling flames, though he doesn't even turn his head from you.

"Hello," you manage to greet him, captivated by how he expertly juggles everything. There's sauteing vegetables, sizzling meats, a bubbling broth, not to mention something that you can't see in the oven.

The sound of shattering glass sounds from the next room.

Hoseok suppresses an eye roll.

"Please excuse me, detective," he says, sounding like a slightly annoyed parent. "If you wouldn't mind lingering in the kitchen while I sort this out. Jin so likes the company."

Jin flicks a spurt of hot oil over one shoulder, missing Hoseok by an inch, but he only bursts into laughter while sliding out of the room.

Jin doesn't seem to mind as you curiously look around the gigantic room, he just continues his work in comfortable silence.

That's a common theme with Jin. He's charismatic and perfectly capable of carrying a conversation, but he appears to enjoy your company despite how quiet and reserved you are. He merely glances your way every few moments, like he's reassuring himself that you're still there.

You like how he doesn't push you for conversation. It seems like he enjoys observing you just as much as you enjoy observing your surroundings (though you do enjoy observing him when he's not looking).

"Very impressive," you can't help but say as you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

"Thank you," he replies happily, and then adds playfully, "Feel free to mention that at the table."

Your eyes scan over the variety of coffee contraptions, no doubt because of Jin the cafe owner. Then you reach the refrigerator, black with gold handles, but instead of plastic magnets there are little antique picture frames with photos of all if the house's inhabitants. Because of course even the fridge has to align with the aesthetic.

"Looking for something?" Jin quips, clearly amused.

It's then that you wonder what exactly you'd find inside the fridge. Jin knows you've been watching him. Does he know what you suspect he is?

"What would I possibly be looking for?" you reply nonchalantly.

Jin lets out a chuckle that would dissolve even the thickest tension.

"If you're looking for blood bags and raw meat, you won't find them here."

He says it so jokingly, that you start to think maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe is he just some normal man with normal tendencies, the only reason for his nocturnal lifestyle attributed to him owning a 24 hour coffee shop.

Maybe you don't have to imagine him standing among a rack of blood bags at the local hospital, stealing them for his own benefit while leaving others without the vital resource.

Because if that's the case, then you have no reason to suspect he has anything to do with the deaths and disappearances. Maybe you could even—

"I don't keep them in that fridge," he says.

Your amused expression drops.

The timer on the oven beeps.

"Almost ready. If you wouldn't mind moving into the dining room and taking your seat," Jin says, focusing back on plating each dish.

You take the hint, leaving him in his element.

Another grand room, but with much higher ceilings, almost like a dark cathedral. There are the same stained glass windows and marble floors, and a massive crystal chandelier lit by tapering candles hangs overhead, though you have no idea how anyone could get so high up in order to light them.

Though the thing that demands the most attention is the long table in the center of the room. More dripping candles, some more like piles of wax with a lit wick, and bouquets of dried flowers serve as centerpieces. A black lace tablecloth, glinting silverware, dishes with images of crows and insects.

You don't even notice the people standing around the table until a small projectile is hurtling past you. Head whipping around, you see Jimin standing there with a slingshot held up to his face, and that face painted with a smirk.

From the way he's looking at you, it's not outrageous to assume that he was aiming at you. That is, until you hear a crash from behind you.

"Hey! Don't hit my azaleas!"

You immediately recognize the voice as Yoongi's, but your eyes are locked on Jimin. This is the first time you've seen him without a mask.

Uncovered by a hat, his silver hair falls across his forehead, and his eyes, unobscured by sunglasses, shine a strange blue-gray.

Something about his face is dangerous, it makes you want to see how close you can get before that danger becomes a real threat.

"You missed," you say, even though the smirk on his face is not one that belongs to someone who's missed their shot.

He just smiles on, and his teeth are sharp. Unnaturally sharp, as if every tooth beyond the front two have been filed down to fine points.

"If I wanted to hit you, I would've hit you," Jimin replies.

Hoseok approaches the two of you, ready to unleash another lethal roll of his eyes. He holds out his hand, and Jimin gives up the slingshot with a little huff.

"We have a no weapons at the table policy," Hoseok explains as Jimin pushes past him. You move to follow, but Hoseok stops you too.

"I'm afraid we also have a no recording devices at the table policy," he says with a knowing look.

You stare at him in slight disbelief, but he appears to be serious.

You want them to trust you, if only for the sake of the investigation. If they know something, you can't seem like a threat.

So you start to empty your pockets.

There's the microcassette recorder in your coat pocket, the digital recorder in your pants pocket, the flash drive recorder in your other pants pocket, the pen recorder in your inner jacket pocket.

You make a show of straightening your clothes before trying to slide past him, but he blocks you again with a raise of an eyebrow.

How the fuck...? Ugh, fine. You suppose you can actually be trustworthy instead of just pretending to be.

You take out the spare digital recorder in your left jacket pocket, the mini microphone in your shirt pocket, the flashlight with the secret button clipped to your belt. And the fake lapel pin. And the video camera in your bag. And the smaller backup camera in the hidden pocket inside your bag.

When you look up, you see that everyone in the room has stopped to watch you, all with expressions of slight shock.

Remembering one last thing, you hold up a finger, fishing out the micro nine pistol from the holster at the back of your waistband, setting it down at the top of the pile of contraband. As well as the extra magazine.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, and you think that maybe you shouldn’t have revealed the fact that you usually bring your gun to unfamiliar situations. But then you hear Jimin chuckle.

“Well,” he says from across the room with nothing but amusement in his tone. “It’s definitely a party now.”

Now that everyone is properly de-weaponed and de-deviced, everyone moves to take a seat, with Hoseok at one head of the table and Yoongi at the other in a tall peacock chair.

Your place is between Jimin and Taehyung, with Jungkook and Namjoon sitting across the table.

You should’ve guessed that Namjoon would be here, live here. As a P.I., you’re kicking yourself that you didn’t guess as much earlier.

Jin is still in the kitchen, dishes clanking. And what you perceive as awkward silence hangs in the air. To them, it simply feels like impatience being soothed.

You wait, wait for one of them to acknowledge the situation. Why have you been invited here?

“Did you enjoy the appetizers, _____?” Jimin asks.

You sneak a glance at him. He’s dressed in a silk shirt that billows around his form, his pale hair now pushed back from his forehead, transforming his face from relatively innocent to dangerously attractive. He watches you eagerly, waiting for your reply. He caught all of the seafood himself, after all.

You just nod in response, but Jimin flashes you a pleased smile all the same.

“We weren’t allowed to have any, of course,” Taehyung remarks, giving Hoseok a pointed look.

“Guests eat first, Taehyung, you know that,” he replies swiftly, but from the little grin on both their faces, it’s clear they’re only teasing.

You wonder how often they have guests in a place like this.

Another silence falls, you sneaking glances at everyone around the table. Except when you dare glance at Hoseok, he’s already looking. He must sense your discomfort, because then he’s saying, “My apologies, detective. We haven’t had proper introductions yet.”

He starts with the person to his left.

“This is Taehyung, our resident coroner. He runs the morgue downstairs.”

This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Taehyung since you arrived in the house, and he doesn’t seem like the same man you met in the morgue. This man is at ease in his own home, a man who isn’t bound by professional constraints. He’s looking at you now less like a private investigator and more like a stranger that he doesn’t want to remain a stranger.

You’re not sure which you prefer.

“This is Jimin, he’s currently studying chemistry and marine biology at the university.”

Jimin meets your gaze when you glance at him, cocking his head back slightly and flashing a hint of those sharp teeth again.

“Yoongi, our genius little green thumb. He’s the one who keeps the place nice and lush,” Hoseok gushes, and Yoongi gives a little wave and straight-lipped smile, blushing only slightly.

“Namjoon, our favorite bookworm. And brilliant scholar! About to publish his third book.” Namjoon nods his head towards you with a small smile.

“And this is Jungkook, the youngest problem in the bunch,” Hoseok says, gesturing towards the young man in the pinstripe suit. Jungkook acknowledges you still somewhat nervously.

“Forgotten someone?” A voice calls.

Jin saunters into the room, having abandoned his apron for a lace jacket with sewn-on fabric flowers. He takes the empty seat to Hoseok’s right, straightening his hair. But it doesn’t like he’s been slaving in the kitchen this whole time at all. Not one stain on his clothes, not one dew drop of sweat.

“Could never forget you, darling,” Hoseok replies. “And this is Jin, our lovely chef who keeps us all so well fed.”

Jin gives a tiny little bow in your direction, along with one of his charming smiles.

There’s another pause, as if they’re waiting for you to say something. All you can think of is that they already know you, there’s no need for you to introduce yourself. So you say the first adjacent thing to come to your head:

“Glad to have met all of you.”

And you barely notice it, already looking down at your empty plate, but they simultaneously stifle the flutter in their gut.

“Alright,” Jin announces, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat!”

Everyone but you, in near perfect synchronicity, grabs the silver cloche set before each of their table settings, and places it over their plate. Jimin gestures for you to do the same, so you obey.

When you remove it again, after everyone else does the same, the former empty plate is suddenly full. A thick and creamy soup, speckled with spices, steaming in a bread bowl crusted with garlic and herbs.

And of course no one bats an eye at the casual error in the law of physics, too busy passing around a bowl of greens to garnish and a bottle of red wine to fill their glasses. You don’t object when Taehyung holds the bottle over your own glass with a questioning raise of his eyebrow.

And by God, is it delicious. The cream base of the soup melts perfectly with hints of herbs and the peppery bite of truffle shavings. And of course, the best part is being able to break off a bit of flavored bread and dip it into the pot of gold before you.

“This is delicious,” you can’t help but blurt out, saying it like an aggressively objective fact.

“Thank you,” Jin replies, smiling wide like a child that was just complimented on their most recent art project. Except you can’t display a bowl of soup on the fridge, but you would if you could.

“Yoongi helped me forage the mushrooms,” Jin adds.

Mushrooms? Now that you think of it, the soup does have a distinct earthy taste.

“Do you forage often?” you ask, looking at Yoongi.

“Not as often as I’d like,” he replies.

“Why is that?” you ask, and a small smile tugs at Yoongi’s mouth. There’s a shared chuckle from around the table.

“What?” you blurt out, almost certain that they are making fun of you or know something that you don’t, probably both.

“You’re doing your interrogator voice,” Jimin says, but it doesn’t sound malicious, more like…endeared?

A look around the table, and everyone’s face matches the tone of his voice. He says it as if the two of you have known each other for years, as if you’re friends. It puts a strange, almost sickly feeling in your stomach. You set down your spoon.

Soon the air is filled with pleasant dinner-time chatter. They keep trying to bring you into the conversation, like you’re somehow one of them. But you’re here to get a job done.

It becomes exceedingly more difficult to concentrate solely on the case when the main course comes out. Again, due only to the covering and uncovering of your plates with the silver cloches, the remains of your soup disappearing.

A choice cut steak, generously seasoned, drizzled with a red wine sauce, a heap of garlic and herb mashed potatoes, and more mushrooms grilled to tenderness. You’re not normally fond of mushrooms, but these are surprisingly flavorful in a way you wouldn’t expect from a vegetable, let alone a fungus.

“They’re Pepperwood caps,” Jin says, as if reading your thoughts. “Yoongi grows them on the grounds.”

In all your research, you’ve never heard of Pepperwood caps.

“Hoseok isn’t eating them,” you say pointedly. “Neither is Jungkook,” you continue. There are no Pepperwood caps on either of their plates. Instead, a small pile of white capped mushrooms with brown spots.

“To my knowledge, those are Deadly Dapperlings, yes?”

They all look at each other.

“You don’t miss anything, do you detective?” Hoseok says with a little grin.

Your research on fungi has made you a novice at recognizing the lethal ones.

“Jungkook and I find that the poisonous ones have a particularly robust flavor,” Hoseok continues.

You watch him as he says it, waiting for him to elaborate, but he never does. So you return your attention to your perfectly cooked steak.

“I imagine you’re curious about what precisely the fuck we all are,” Jin interjects the silence, and your fork stops halfway to your mouth.

“Really all that needs to be said is that whatever you’ve already deduced is probably true.” He has his hands clasped together, his shirtsleeve riding up to expose the crescent-shaped bite mark on the inside of his wrist. He smiles when he notices you staring.

“Don’t worry,” he says, sounding amused. “I can be trusted around exposed neck flesh.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“So there’ll be no biting over the course of the evening?” you quip, only half joking.

Jin maintains his level gaze.

“Only if you want it desperately,” he replies.

You mold your face into a hard mask of indifference before you say something stupid.

“I must admit,” Taehyung begins. “I'm a little older than I look."

You stare at him like you’re trying to read a book. It’s true, he doesn’t look a day over thirty.

Jimin clears his throat.

"I'm not exactly...from here," he says, and when you look at him you swear you see something shift underneath his shirt.

The man in the peacock chair shifts.

"I'm a little more tuned into nature than most people," Yoongi adds. It’s only then that you notice that the dried flowers in their vases are leaning towards him like he’s the sun.

Jungkook is fidgeting in his chair, avoiding your gaze. But you can gather as much from the pallor of his skin and the deep-set dark circles under his eyes, both of which become clearer and easier to see the more times you look at him.

He has a ghostly air about him, like a whisper in the wind.

You look at Namjoon, and he smiles with a shrug.

"I just run a bookshop," he says.

A shared laugh sounds around the table. Namjoon rolls his eyes.

"Okay, maybe I've made a few blood pacts, but I'm a folklorist for Christ's sake!"

You genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. Though, judging by what you’ve seen tonight, he’s probably telling nothing but the truth.

Finally, you turn to Hoseok.

“I’m…not all there,” he says, and you wait patiently for more.

He scratches the back of his head, looking like he’s trying to find the right words.

“You can see me sitting here, but it’s only half of me. You can touch me and hear my voice, but it’s not actually me. I need to be…contained.”

Now you’re staring at him in confusion.

“You ever read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” Namjoon asks.

Before you can answer, another loud clang of the bell is sounding. Everyone else merely looks at the clock, but you flinch violently at the skull-rattling volume of the noise.

Jin wipes the corner of his mouth with his cloth napkin and pushes his chair back. Everyone else does the same, covering their now empty plates with the silver cloches.

Hoseok rises to a stand.

“Would you like to join us for coffee and cocktails in the library? Dessert should be ready shortly,” Hoseok says, though it doesn’t sound much like question when he heads down the hallway without waiting for an answer. And apparently it didn’t sound like a question to anyone else either, because Jimin and Taehyung are soon pulling you up from your chair and leading you out of the room, with Jimin even wrapping one arm around yours as Taehyung presses himself to your side.

The library is a dark room, no less grand than the rest of the house, with the same candlelit chandelier and sconces. Floor to ceiling bookshelves wrap themselves around the entirety of the room, complete with a wooden ladder on a sliding rail. There’s a roaring fire in the fireplace, and plenty of leather chairs and couches gathered around it.

Jimin lets you go when the door is shut securely behind you.

“Who wants a drink?” Jin asks, heading over to the bar cart in the corner, but you’re more drawn to the tea set on the low table by the fireplace. It’s all black and gold, with little images of ravens on the cups and saucers.

You pour yourself a cup with cream and sugar, taking a languid sip and relishing in its perfect richness.

Jin distributes the drinks as he prepares them without having to ask anyone what they want. A glass of white wine for Taehyung, something sparkling and slightly radioactive looking for Jimin, that same blackberry concoction for Hoseok, hot toddies for Namjoon and Jungkook, and a glass of some citrusy cordial for Yoongi. When you get a closer look at his glass you notice that Jin even took the time to carve a little jack-o-lantern face into half a tangerine as a garnish.

Jin makes himself the dirtiest martini you've ever seen, with only half the glass with liquid in it, the top half being a copious pile of olives.

“So, detective,” Hoseok says, leaning against one of the bookshelves. “How can we be of service?”

Your eyebrows raise.

“You want to help?” you ask, still incredulous. Because to be honest, you’re not quite sure what the purpose of this evening is supposed to be. To intimidate you? Confuse you? Judging by the fact that you stalked them because they fell under your radar of suspicion. You figured that if they were going to offer to help they could’ve done it with an email.

“Of course,” Taehyung says from his seat on one of the couches. “The last thing I want is more bodies on my autopsy table due to deaths that could’ve been avoided.”

“And something is harming the wildlife,” Yoongi adds.

You set down your cup and saucer, digging in your bag to start spreading papers all around you.

“What’s the deal with the mayor?” you ask.

“She's...unpopular with the general population," Namjoon offers. "A little too different."

"She won the election, didn't she?" you counter.

"By the skin of her teeth," Jimin replies. "Minority vote kicked in at the last second. And a lot of people aren't happy about it."

"Different, huh?" you say. The implication is clear.

"Or at least, her ancestors were, and I think her daughter is too. Tends to run in the family, stuff like that," Taehyung adds.

"She looks out for those like us," Yoongi says. "When she can, that is. It's gotten a little harder these days."

"Why is that?" you ask.

Yoongi shrugs.

"That's just how it goes. Some times are harder than others."

"Is that why the mayor wanted everything off the record? Why there's hardly been any media coverage?" you ask.

"That's what I'm guessing," Yoongi replies.

"She's paying me out of pocket," you inform them.

"That doesn't surprise me much," Namjoon adds. "She's always been too generous for her own good. I imagine she cares more about this strange case than most of her colleagues."

"So she knows about all of your…proclivities? That’s why she sent me your way?” you ask.

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Yoongi replies. “Normal people tend to think we’re weirdos, but those who are like us know when they’re looking in a mirror.”

"What about the paper?" you ask.

Their expressions cloud with confusion.

“Uh, what about it?”

Ah, have you finally breached the topic of something they want to hide?

“Several people have claimed to have negative experiences with the press, but the main publishers have barely commented on any of the cases.”

“Oh, you mean the Periscope Press,” Taehyung supplies.

Hmm, maybe they don’t have anything to hide after all. But that doesn’t mean you trust them yet.

“It’s an underground newspaper, independently published, geared towards folks like us. Though it’s mostly full of garbage these days, we don’t have a subscription,” Taehyung explains.

“We can get you copies of the last few editions, though,” Jungkook adds, startling you a little since you haven’t heard him speak much tonight. He suddenly looks down at his shoes like he just realized the fact too.

“If you want,” he says, this time in nearly a whisper.

“That would be great, thank you,” you reply graciously, though he continues to avoid your gaze.

“So, detective,” Hoseok begins, and with the drink his voice is a touch more gravelly. “What’s your next move?”

They’re all looking at you now, curious and waiting.

You look down at your notes and fight the urge to clench your fist, because to honest, you’re not sure.

“I’m sure our little sleuth has a plan,” Jimin quips from his place sprawled out across one of the couches.

“I’d like to get access to Bradley’s reports and records, and wear down Mrs. Bradley if at all possible,” you begin, forming a list in your head. “I’d like to continue fieldwork around the woods and the lake, maybe see if anyone at the university can do some tests on those unusual mushrooms. I’ll be continuing my rounds around town to see if any civilians have anything to offer. Hopefully I can get some more information on the ones still missing.”

“And the lake?” Jimin asks.

You don’t want to talk about the lake. Thinking about it puts a sinking feeling in your gut, the stench of hot poisoned salt water filling your nose.

You don’t want to talk about what you saw. In your line of work, simply seeing isn’t enough. All that matters is hard evidence. So that’s what you’re gonna get.

Downing the dregs of your coffee cup, you start to gather up your notes.

“You’re leaving?” Jimin says, sounding wounded. “Before dessert?”

“I’m afraid there’s some things I wanted to get done tonight,” you say, ready to retreat back into your hole and dive back into the distraction of your work, where there aren’t several pairs of sultry dark eyes watching your every move.

“I suppose it is getting late,” Hoseok says. Though he doesn’t mention that many of them either don’t need to sleep or simply prefer to be active into the darkest hours of the morning.

“Let us send you home with some goodies, hm?” Hoseok nods to his housemates.

Jin cuts you slice of blue velvet cake, packing it up in a little bento box container.

You object at first, saying you don’t want to take a container as nice as this one, but Jin just retorts with a wink, saying that you’ll just have to come back sometime to return it.

Yoongi takes some cuttings from one of the dining room table centerpieces, adding some clippings from plants around the house as fillers, and wraps the bouquet in brown paper tied neatly with a bow. He hands it to you with a shy expression.

Namjoon gifts you a small stack of books, bound together by a leather strap, with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the top of the pile. He gives you a smile when you notice.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jungkook says when they lead you through the dark halls to the front door, which you didn’t expect.

He carries your gifts as the two of you travers first the cobblestone path and then the small hill down to where you parked your car.

“Sorry we’re so strange. And vague. I imagine it’s frustrating,” he says suddenly.

The walk up to this point has been completely silent, so the sound of his voice startles you just a bit.

“Yes, you’re all very weird,” you say, and Jungkook’s face sinks.

“If any of you ever change I’ll be very disappointed,” you finish, and that puts a full smile on his face, full enough that you can see the bunny-like jut of his front teeth.

A few moments of silence, the wind singing a low song.

“You’re very cynical, you know,” he says.

That makes you look at him, but his face is that same neutral expression, dark eyes wide like a young doe’s. He says it like a simple observation, not with the judgmental you’re used to hearing.

“Am I?” you reply, unable to choke back the little sarcastic bite to your tone.

He nods.

“You think no one could ever believe you just for the sake of believing you. You think you need to prove yourself.”

You stare at him, long and hard enough to miss the fact that the two of you have reached your car.

He opens the door for you, and you’re glad that you’re heading to the safety of your home because all these kind gestures are starting to make you feel weird.

After you start the engine, Jungkook leans down to look at you through the open window.

“Try not to worry about the case so much,” he says softly. “Trust your instincts, you’ll figure it out.”

There’s a moment of silence where you stare at him some more, wondering how a man who’s been so quiet and shy for the duration of the evening can shock you dumb with just a handful of words.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage after a while. “And thank the others for a lovely meal.”

He nods and smiles, backing up to let you drive off down the hill.

Back at home, you make a fresh pot of coffee and tuck into that slice of cake while you draft an email to the mayor detailing your most recent findings.

Then you look through all the books you have on mushrooms, even go to the internet, but you find absolutely nothing on Pepperwood caps. To the rest of the world, they don’t exist.

You fall asleep with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lying open in your hand.

~~~

a/n: thanks for your patience! :)

[dixons-sunshine]

Saw your birthday post and I’m here to say dad!daryl especially during pregnancy would be act like a caveman. You’re growing his child? He’s hunting for a mounting of food (more specifically animals especially deer) and presenting them to you like he’s at an altar. You want something. He’s already got it. Craving something that’s lots to the old world? Don’t worry he’ll do his best and if not he’ll find a suitable replacement. Dad!daryl would do anything for you already, and now you’re with his child… you really get to see how far he’d go.

Let’s not mention if you were ever in a position where he thinks you’d be in danger because he’s animalistic ensuring that you and his baby are okay.

Thank you for listening to my ted talk

Also happy early birthday!!

No because I think about this on a daily basis. You'd think I'm lying but I'm not. The amount of times I think of Daryl as a dad should be illegal lol. My own thoughts under the cut. (Sorry this isn't a proper fic. I didn't know how to write this in a way that would be in a way you deserve, but I loved this so much and didn't want this to go to waste, so I'm doing this. Hope it's okay!)

Basically everything you said is so freaking true. As far as I'm aware, aka on what I've seen in movies and what my mom has told me, the correct meat is an essential part to a pregnant woman's diet. Oh, boy, once you're pregnant and the doctor says that you need protein? You be rest assured that Daryl is not resting until he finds you the best goddamn venison he can. No rabbit or squirrel meat for the love of his life and his unborn baby. Y'all deserve only the best. He'd even fight tooth and nail if he could only find a small deer and there wouldn't be enough venison for everyone in the community and everyone wanted some. You needed it more than they did, and he'd hold someone at gunpoint if he needed to.

I've also wondered a lot about Daryl finding whatever you're craving. A few nights ago, I was really craving chips (fries) but I couldn't go buy any, so I had to make my own. While making it (at 3am if I may add) I thought about Daryl making you what you're craving during your pregnancy. If he can't find what you're craving outside the walls, he's gonna try his damn best to make it. Fries? He's picking potatoes out of the community's garden to make you that. You want a sandwich? He's gonna make you a sandwich. You want some crisps (chips)? He can't make it, but he's not gonna rest until he finds you some. It may be stale, but he doesn't care. Anything for you.

I've seen a couple of videos where the guy stands behind his pregnant partner and raises their belly to relieve some pressure. Daryl would do that! I read it in my favourite dad!Daryl series (Blood Ties by @celtic-crossbow. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it!) and I was like “yes, he would totally do that!” Anything that would help make you even the slightest bit more comfortable, he'd do it. Also, I feel like it would bring a sense of comfort to him when he does that. It'd make him feel more connected with his baby before they're born, y'know?

Don't even get me started on Daryl being extremely overprotective of you. He doesn't want you to be in any sort of danger in general, but the need to keep you safe when you're carrying his baby increases by a tenfold. Your escapades beyond the walls are put on a hold for the foreseeable future. Anything you need beyond the walls, he'll get it for you. And if you don't want him to leave you, he'll get someone else to do it for him. He wouldn't ever let you willingly put yourself in danger, and if you ever were in danger, the people responsible for it would pay dearly.

I have a lot of thoughts on this but my brain isn't working with me right now. Thank you so much for sending this in! I really loved this so much.

[skrunksthatwunk]

one kill la kill detail that's particularly dear to me that ive never seen anyone talk about is how blatant mako's crush on ryuko is from the get-go

like, mako doesn't really go out of her way to make friends. she's sometimes friendly with people, especially when she happens to be around them (i.e. maiko, gamagori, satsuki), but we don't really see her seek out friendship in the way she does with ryuko. they meet briefly before school, but ryuko doesn't even say a word to her. but then mako does stuff like immediately eagerly waving ryuko over in class, trying to tackle-hug her, declaring them besties because they're desk neighbors. do you think she and that guy ryuko replaced were bffs bc of this? or any of the other people mako has sat next to? no. and while one could argue that maybe she tried and failed with everyone but ryuko, her persistence when it comes to ryuko (which ryuko herself comments on and which is evident before ryuko really accepts her company (i.e. before she moves in with the mankanshokus)) doesn't seem to be present with anyone else. mako knows what it's like to be lonely, but she has no reason in particular to latch on to ryuko, other than, perhaps, that shes someone she hasn't tried yet. but she meets new people pretty often, and that doesn't lead to much interest on her end.

it seems more likely that something about ryuko caught her attention from the jump, likely how cool and pretty she is (something she talks about a LOT.) she talks (with her family) about how hot ryuko's body is, how good her old pajamas look on her, compares her tit size to satsuki's (which means she was either staring at both of theirs or that she simply feels that ryuko's are bigger, likely out of loyalty or respect for her (think big dick energy)), etc etc etc. like she's always fawning over her and cheering her on and showing her off as her "bestest friend" to mikisugi and aghhhghdfhgdjdjdh she's so gay man. what the fcuk

this isn't really present throughout the series, but she's often seen blushing or sprouting nose bleeds or ogling ryuko in early episodes. like any time there's a WOAH!!! HOTTIE BOOBA NAKED crowd reaction shot there'll often be a little mako alongside the horny guys blushing or peeking between her fingers or whatever like. she checks her out

she also is immediately very welcoming and supportive of ryuko. she tells her family to leave her alone when she's talking to senketsu and that it's not that weird, defends her in the fight club episode, literally invites her to uhaul on day one (classic lesbian maneuver) like. and she's also always talking about how close ryuko and senketsu are, that ryuko and senketsu are closer to each other than anyone else, that, while she's in ryuko's corner, she never really asserts herself as ryuko's best friend, even though she's very clear that ryuko is her best friend. she thinks she comes second. she's a very good sport about it, but something about that natural assumption that she's not her #1 is a little sad to me, though maybe she's just giving ryuko space and understanding in a very generous way. again, she's very supportive. like she's always doing what she can to cheer ryuko up or help her along, like bringing her lunches and standing up for her when the students of honouji bend the rules in their favor (like in the tennis episode). she's very "ily!!!! no pressure. but you're great :D" and i love that for her (though occasionally when shit gets dire she'll put her foot down, especially as the series goes on, i.e. rebelling against satsuki, the wedding dress scene, insisting this and that about the ryuko she knows (esp right after the time skip)

she's also got her cuddly streak. about half of it's reserved for hallelujah moments but there's also the scooter ride and her calling back monster-ryuko and the post-recovery nuzzling (i love that scene ehehhehdhdhshdgcvzkzh) and the epilogue moments and her GLOMPS

anyway my point is she loves ryuko and she does from the jump and she's great and i love her and ryuko loves her too but that's a separate post and yeah!!!!! girlfriends <3

[utilitycaster]

What do you think of the overall structural and character changes for these first three episodes of TLOVM S3? I've been pretty happy/they make sense to me, but I've seen some grumbling, particularly about the changes to J'mon's entrance. (Some believe they could have kept the fight and trial, thinking it wouldn't have taken up much time, which I am...dubious about)

Much as I enjoyed the fight and trial in the campaign I think J'mon's intro was fine and of the changes it frankly did not even register. Like...there's a lot of deviation, and if someone's fixated on that it's like. that? really?

Anyway just a quick rundown:

Changing Scanlan to have Kaylie present in Ank'Harel and for him to fuck up again with her is a good idea setting up the Bard's Lament, as is sort of removing the whole "do you spice" arc and leaving in a little nod to it, because like, that was funny in-game but it doesn't translate well

I am cautiously in favor of Vax being the one to pull away from Keyleth. I know Keyleth is tough to convey well in this adaptation - I think for all that her arc stands out more in the campaign, Vex's is easier to turn into an animated series - but the "Keyleth isn't sure and Vax is like I understand and I'll wait but like. could we make out" vibes in-campaign never really were my thing even though it was consensual, so this does sit a little better with me. I do hope Keyleth is given some opportunities to voice her own feelings though, complicated as they are, as well as like...this makes more sense in my critiques of Campaign 3 but in Campaign 1, early Keyleth was terminally indecisive. Conclave-era Keyleth was "I know what I DON'T want (the Clasp, Raishan)" which was a huge step forward, but shooting things down, while important, isn't the same as leading. She eventually reached actual leadership - knowing what she did want. I think if Keyleth can argue for the things she wants, even if they're a little different than they were in Campaign 1, we'll be fine. So we're in a holding pattern to see what she does. I think giving her a juicy spire of conflux retrieval in which she takes the lead would address any concerns.

Vex and Percy changes are great, the vibe is correct, that's all I care about and other people have discussed this at length far more eloquently than I will, as I'm going to bed in like 15 minutes.

Intrigued by Draconia changes, not sure what they'll be exactly but I assume they'll still destroy it. I think destroying it in front of Percy and Vex might give it the emotional weight it had in the campaign without, well, you know.

Moving the armor to the hells sounds great, I thought they'd just skip Plate of the Dawnmartyr tbh because it was kind of clunky and weird to retrieve but now I'm invested for Zerxus reasons.

I think I'm a lot more open to adaptational changes than much of the fandom? Like...look. I think if you hear "we're doing different things" for C2 and think "Molly lives", as discussed before, you do not get how this works. But the changes we have here all feel pretty true to the characters; not having every specific battle (ESPECIALLY because D&D battles don't always translate well to TV) is literally not even on my radar.

[the-kr8tor]

KATY AGAIN, CONGRATULATIONS, HONESTLY I FEEL LIKE A PROUD LITTLE SISTER 🥳🤭💕💕 , YOU'VE COME SO FAR, I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT! I just wished I'd met you sooner, then I could call myself an og 💪 *sigh*

Feel free to ignore my rec if you have no inspiration, or there are other recs that need tending to 🥺

Can I get a ❣️ shaped bottle full to the brim of epsom salt and Baby's breath, please! - a short fluffy drabble consisting of the twins helping their father out during his day to day tasks on the ship

Thank you ml ❤️❤️ you're an honorary og in my heart 🩷

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw pregnancy talk, cw food mentions, dad! Hobie, mom! Reader, an au of my BDAS series, Billie and Ramona AU, Twins AU. Fluff!

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“Wake up, guppies.” Hobie whispers, hands placed on Billie and Mona's shoulders, rocking them awake. It's easier when they prefer to sleep on the same bed even though they have their own right next to each other. He traces each of their noses, and they wiggle it in their half sleep state. “Thought you two wanted to help the captain today?”

Ramona is the first one to wake up, yawning, similar grey eyes cracking open. “Hi, dad.” She gives him a soft smile that Hobie reciprocates.

“Hello, guppy.” He gently rubs away sand from her sleepy eyes. “Good dream?”

“Yes, it was the mermaid dream again.” She whispers, ever so polite. “Bee and I were reading under the water while you and mum were making us hot chocolate.”

Hobie tilts his head with endearment. “How could you read underwater when the books would get wet?”

Her eyes shine, “mermaid magic.”

“I wouldn't have thought that, lovie.” She giggles, stretching on the mattress. Her hand smacks Billie to wake, groaning and frowning while she stirs.

Hobie senses an early tantrum. “G’morning, shark.”

She smiles at the ‘menacing’ nickname. Crisis averted. “Morning, daddy.” Turning towards Mona, she flicks her bicep. “You hit me.”

“Sorry, mon.”

Again, Hobie senses a fight. He's getting good at this. “What did you dream ‘bout, guppy?” He tucks away curls that have fallen in front of her face. That seemed to soften the twins away from fighting.

“I dreamed that grandad Miguel visited us on the ship and he was wearing a duck costume.”

“A duck costume?” Hobie and Mona ask at the same time.

Billie giggles with a shrug, “maybe he likes ducks.”

Hobie chuckles, too loudly. He quickly twists around to check on you. Thankfully, you still lay asleep, drooling on the pillow. Satisfied, he returns his attention towards his girls. “You two know the drill. Get dressed, brush your teeth—”

“And eat breakfast, then help the crew and captain dad.” They finish his sentence for him with a grin, twin telepathy working its magic.

He gives them a proud smile, patting each of their cheeks. “That's my girls.”

—

All three of them sit and eat outside with the ever rambunctious crew. Loaves of bread are being tossed around as people ask for them, jams are passed to and fro while Billie and Mona happily chatter with Yuri and Ned. Hobie smiles as the sun shines down on the long table, everything seems perfect with only Gwen, Miles, Pavitr and a handful of the crew with them are away on the second ship. The twins miss them dearly but after a few restless nights of them bawling their eyes out, they're counting down the days until they return back on the main ship.

The only person who isn't miles away but is very much missed on the breakfast table is you. Hobie resists the urge to wake you up, to pepper your face with saccharine kisses until you wake. But you need the sleep, especially that you're carrying the youngest crew member in your growing belly.

After breakfast, Billie and Mona help take down the dishes to the galley where Finn waits for each plate and utensil with a mountain of patience since the tiny crew members could only carry two plates at a time with some help from James. And James distracts them a lot with his stories. One time, Finn has been waiting for the next batch of dishes to be brought down, only to find the trio sitting on the stairs while James turns into their personal storyteller. Thankfully this time though, the only hang up is that Billie and Mona have small legs that don't cover much ground. With the combined help of James and Hobie (even though he needed to talk to Yuri) helped with the dishes.

Next on the agenda is a meeting with his navigator and a few of the crew members inside the captain's office. The twins seem to hate this only thing on the schedule. They sit and wait, and wait some more. With boredom etched on their faces, Ned had a brilliant idea to place a blanket down over a free table where the girls could hang out with their books, toys and drawing notebooks that Miles gifted them. Their giggles and own meeting about which biscuit is the best can be heard under the table while Hobie talks about strategy, he couldn't help but smile the entire meeting. Now it's their favourite part of the day until they see you awake that is.

Hobie brought them back on the deck with the sole purpose of teaching them how to tie knots. Or rather, they begged him to teach them. His calloused hands tie a simple ribbon around a bannister using a silk ribbon instead of the usual rough rope so that their hands wouldn't be irritated by it. His mind wanders back to the day that he first taught you how to properly secure a knot, it seems like forever ago now. But it's not so much a distant memory for him everytime he looks at you, and traces the scars on your palms— it's as if it happened just yesterday.

Waking up from his thoughts of you, he turns around to check on their progress. “Let's see what you've done then.” He's greeted by Mona's curly hair tied around the silky ribbon while Billie's curls are almost identical to hers. All tied around a cute ribbon. Though the pigtails are a bit wonky, they look absolutely adorable. He wishes that Miles could draw the moment so that he could show you later.

“Did we do good?” Mona smiles hopefully, Billie gives her dad the biggest, most adorable grin that could rival the brightness of the sun. Upon seeing this, Mona does the same, even making her eyelashes flutter. A trick that she must've gotten from you.

Hobie crouches down to their height, hands running along their hair and checking the neat ribbons. Surprisingly, they're pretty good at it. Wait till you hear your daughters are better at tying ribbons than you.

He exhales to compose himself from all the cuteness lest he scoops them up in his arms and scream into the sea, telling neptune himself at how adorable his children are.

“Brilliant, you're both brilliant.” They giggle, puffing their chests proudly.

Lo and behold, Hobie still scoops them up in his arms, giving them a squeeze. Both girls shriek happily, legs kicking about as Hobie rises to his full height. He has an idea, which might make Ned pop a blood vessel.

“How about we steer the ship?” Their eyes widened, excited screeching echoing around the deck as they nod furiously.

—

You wake up to the quiet lull of the sea. Waves lapping at the great ship, wood creaking, and blankets falling off your body when a tall wave meets the side of the ship. Water splashes against the porthole, stirring you awake further.

“—Bie?” Your throat scratches with sleep, eyes still heavy as you pat his side of the bed. “Hobie?” Finding it cold and empty, you prop yourself up by your elbows, sniffing at the cool air. “Billie? Mona?” Looking over your girls' toddler beds, you disappointedly find them both empty.

Their rooms aren't quite ready yet according to their standards, the walls aren't pink enough, and their desks aren't big enough. But you and Hobie think that they're still a little bit afraid of sleeping in their own room without the comforting presence of their mum and dad. You don't mind it at all, you also don't think you can sleep without their soft snores across the room. They are still your babies after all.

It's not unusual to find the captain's quarters devoid of your little family, not when both girls are starting to get used to their sea legs after spending the first three years of their life waddling around the shores of your shared home. They were beyond ecstatic when you and Hobie told them that it's the right time to go back to sailing the seas, something that you thought that they wouldn't even care about. But of course they would be excited, after all, their father is the greatest pirate to ever sail the seven seas (according to him and his girls.)

They're very much at home on the ship, so much so that they always wake up their ‘captain dad’ so they could help him with his morning routine even before breakfast is served. Hobie also loves being back, it's like he has never left the embrace of the tides.

Hobie has been a great sport the entire time, whenever the girls would cry about motion sickness or throwing tantrums when they want to climb up on the crow’s nest (because if aunt Yuri can do it, so can they!) he would be there helping you calm them down. Even though he hates waking up before the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, he loves it when he wakes up to his girls' smiling faces. There's nothing better than stirring awake with their little hands patting his face until they ultimately give up and use their feet to kick his legs. The girls would wake you up too but with you carrying the newest crew member in your bump, they're opting to just wake up their dad for now. Hobie has managed to convince the girls that you needed twice the amount of sleep because of the baby. Or managed to swindle them with hot chocolate in the morning, based on the fact that whenever you kiss each of them good morning, they always smell like the sweet drink.

You swing your legs at the end of the bed, socked feet padding along the room to grab your sweater, (or Hobie's old sweater for that matter) after changing and washing your face with the water basin, you head off towards the upper deck. Knowing that they're running along the floors trying to take the mop from James, who refuses to give up his job to a couple of four year olds. Walking along the corridors doesn't leave you winded just yet, you can still see your foot if you look down despite the bump. You have no idea if you can traverse the large ship once you hit the stage of having a stomach as big as a watermelon instead of the coconut sized belly you're strutting around with.

Passing along the galley, you pause at the open doorway, seeing Finn make pie crusts has you wanting to stay and help out. And by help out, you mean taking a little nibble of fruit while he looks away. You still remember the days where you used to spend hours helping in the kitchen.

“Knock knock.” You greet him with a smile. “Have you seen a certain pair of twins with their dad running after them?”

Finn chuckles, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His grey hair weaved around blonde strands has the twins calling him Santa, or when they're in a good mood (when they want a sweet treat) they call him grandpa Finn, that has the older pirate folding immediately and making whatever the girls want. Unsurprisingly enough, he answers back. “A pair of twins and a pirate walk into a bar, I think I've heard of that joke before.”

“Different joke, Finn.” You snort, eyeing the bowl of blueberries on the counter. Finn, being the perceptive chef on board, notices your hard stare at the fruit.

Without a word, he nudges the bowl towards you, and then he points up towards the deck, replying to your previous question.

“This is why you're my favourite crew member.” Latching onto the bowl, you take it with a smile. “Don't tell Yuri.” He makes a face, putting both flour coated hands up in surrender.

You leave with a grin and a bowl of blueberries. It's still a mystery to you on how Finn keeps them fresh even after weeks of buying them from the last coastal town you anchored in for supplies. You guess you'll never know.

Walking up the steps towards the deck, you're greeted by blinding light as you open the door with a creek. The sight alone would've had you melting if not for the fragile bowl in your hands. Hobie stands on the highest deck with Billie and Ramona in his arms. While both girls are ‘steering’ the ship with their small hands gripping on the wheel as if they're actually sailing the huge ship.

“Mornin’ gorgeous.” Yuri nudges your side, hands dipping inside the bowl to take a handful of fruit, sunlight dancing along her features. “Sleep well? Or did the little pirate keep you awake?”

With the mention of the baby, your hand instinctively pats the bump softly. “Nope, the baby barely kicked me last night. And Hobie helped by letting me sleep in.”

Yuri hums, smiling softly between you and the twins laughing in their dad's arms. “He better, or I'll be the one to kick Hobie where the sun doesn't shine so he doesn't experience fatherhood ever again.”

You laugh, “that is bleak, Yuri.”

She shrugs, “I'm a pirate, Y/N, a pirate who hasn't shot her gun at a navy in months.”

“Sure, big bad pirate, who has made my girls' clothes ever since they were born.” She huffs with a teasing smile, taking another handful of berries. “Don't worry, once Gwen and the others get back from their scouting mission, you get to be a big bad pirate again.”

“I'm turning soft, doc.” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes, lashes fluttering teasingly.

“I know, Yuri, you made my girls puppets last week.”

“And they were fucking gorgeous.”

You start to walk away before she takes half of your stash. “They were! If you get tired of being a pirate, maybe being a puppet maker is your calling.”

She flips you off, grinning from ear to ear before going below deck to maybe annoy Finn instead. Bounding up the steps, Hobie and the twins heard you before they saw you.

“Mummy!” They simultaneously call out, wiggling out of Hobie's arms. He lets them gently back down on the floor, to which they immediately latch onto your legs, trying to climb up.

“Hello, my darlings!” You coo, patting both their heads. Their matching captain tricorns make you giggle. “What have you two been up to?”

“A lot!” Billie jumps up and down to reach your hip, you meet her halfway by crouching down to their level. “We fixed the sail with uncle Ned—”

“We helped auntie Yuri find land by looking into her te-escope!”

You nod enthusiastically, smile blindingly bright as you hold on to them. “What else? You two looked busy with dad.”

Hobie leans on the wheel that's still not activated with the help of a rope tied around the bottom and the other end wrapped around the bannister. The girls are none the wiser. The sun bathes Hobie in glorious light, rays of light seeping through his linen shirt, looking as if no time has passed.

“I should be careful, they're goin' to take my job as captain if they continue their trainin’”

You gasp, feigning hurt. “You mean they're planning a mutiny?! No, not my own girls!”

“What's a mu-tiny?” Billie questions, brows furrowed, an identical look that her sister is also sporting.

Hobie closes the small distance, boots thumping along the floorboards, looking softly at his girls while his hands find their way on their heads. “Tell you what, help uncle James clean the poop deck and I'll tell you.”

“Aye, aye, captain dad!” They say at the same time, even saluting Hobie. Before they could run off, you call them back.

“Take the blueberries, share them with each other, alright? Pass it around to the crew too.” You hand the bowl to them, both girls give you a grin and a smooch to each of your cheeks as thank you. Sometimes you wonder how they could be this sweet, you've joked once that they're a gift from the sea with how kind they could be. “Careful! Don't run— and they're already running off.” Their small feet bound away towards an unassuming James.

“They got that from you.” Hobie helps you up, hand warm against yours. “Always runnin’ off, always so bloody energetic.”

You prop your chin on his shoulder, smiling at him. “Did they tire you out, old man?”

“We're the same age, love.” His hand wraps behind you to cup your hip, fingers tapping along your stomach. He watches as his girls prefer to sit down on the stairs to munch on their snacks. “How's our growing pirate?”

“Good, he didn't kick me all night this time.”

“You?” Hobie leans on the bannister, back pressed on the wood while he guides you in front of him, arms around you, thumbs brushing along your spine while you cradle his jaw in your hands.

“I'm okay, Hobs, nothing of note.”

“You sure? We can still turn around so you can give birth on land.” Worry etches on his face, and you rub your hand on his forehead to flatten the worry lines.

“You forget that I was born at sea, and I've given birth to your pirate gremlins without a problem. I can handle it, don't worry.”

Hobie has a glimpse of you back then, legs coated in crimson, screams echoing around the small cabin that even silences the roar of the sea next door. “Just say the word and we'll find the nearest land, yeah?”

“I promise,” he raises a brow and you roll your eyes. “You know I never break a promise, Cap'n.”

Hobie opens his mouth to quip back, but James’ screech makes you and the pirate in your arms to look. Billie giggles as she runs away with a mop, tracking water droplets on the deck while Mona drags James down with her clinging to his leg with a laugh.

“I think we should save James before he falls overboard. Again.” You unwrap yourself from Hobie, before you could leave his side fully, he gently tugs you back in for a quick but affectionate kiss and a loving pat on your belly.

[cactus-cuddler]

Chapter 4: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫?

Series' masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Word count: 2 k

Summary: finally your date with Bucky!

Warnings: no one I think

Tag list: @robynanthonystark @mcira @sofiaavarga13 @julvrs

(if you want to be added write to me)

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ <3

It's Saturday, the day of your date with Bucky. The night before, after he brought you home, you didn't sleep a wink. Thoughts about how to dress and what you will do kept filling your mind. Now it's early in the morning, and you're drinking a cup of coffee to wake you up. You need some female help, so you call Megan to assist you; you haven't dated anyone in too long, and you want to be perfect for him.

Megan barges into your house with her bag full of makeup, ready to give you advice on men, and you can't help but feel grateful. She searches your entire closet, looking for a cute dress, but the only one she thinks is decent is a short, fitted dress. No, you wouldn't wear that dress. Megan looks at you in disbelief; she thinks you look hot dressed like that, but that's not what you want.

"He sees me dressed provocatively every day. For once, I want him to see me simply as I am," you confess with a shy smile. The fear that he approached you just for your body scares you. Megan understands and recommends a simple dress with a delicate elegance. You find it perfect. Your body isn't on display too much, but it still shows off how gorgeous you are. That dress takes attention away from your gorgeous body and highlights your beautiful face. Bucky will appreciate it without a doubt. Especially because he loves your face, your smile, and how your eyes shine when you see him. He would like your face to always be focused on him.

She helps you put on your makeup and fix your hair, then leaves you alone, telling you she has an important and urgent commitment.

“If things go wrong, call me and I'll bring you your favorite ice cream, and we'll watch one of those super romantic movies, so romantic they make you throw up rainbows, and we'll think of some plan to make him regret it. Is that okay?" You giggle at her proposal and, after thanking her, you give her a warm hug before letting her go. Even though you've known each other for less than a year, she's the kind of person you've always needed. When your doorbell rings, you are anxious and almost on the verge of pretending to be dead. 'If the date goes badly, how could I look at his face again? ' you think as you approach the door.

Bucky didn't sleep a wink thinking about your date either. He's afraid that as you get to know him better, you'll understand there's a monster inside him. But seeing how happy you were when he asked you on a date, he certainly couldn't disappoint you. He would never forgive himself. As he approached your door, he was almost unsure whether to knock or not and was almost on the verge of walking away and disappearing forever. He hasn't had a date in years! He takes courage and rings your doorbell, and when he sees you in that dress, he is transfixed by your beauty. Seeing you in a tight uniform every day can't compare to seeing you dressed like that. He's not bad either; for the occasion, he dressed elegantly just for you. He has elegant trousers tightened with a black belt and a narrow white shirt. It's not cold enough to put his jacket on, and he doesn't like ties, at least not anymore. You hold your breath seeing him look so cool, and you almost feel guilty for admiring so much beauty all at once. You spend a good minute looking at each other, and Bucky breaks the silence.

"You're beautiful," he says in a small, hoarse, and sensual voice, handing you a red rose.

"You too," you reply awkwardly. He bows to you and asks for your hand. You take it, giggling.

You discover that he didn't organize anything in particular; he just wanted to spend time in your company without your clients hovering around you. Going to a bar was out of the question, but you discover there's a festival just a few meters from your house. You walk there, and your hands touch but you don't hold them. You're too embarrassed to do it. As you walk, you talk calmly and laugh together. Being with him fills your stomach with butterflies and makes you feel like a little girl. He seems so interested in you and does everything to make you laugh so he can see your beautiful lips curl up.

Before arriving at the festival, you make a few intermediate stops. First, at a booth where they take Polaroid photos so you can have a memory. You take three photos: one funny, one cute, and one "serious." Only he looks serious; you burst into a loud laugh.

“Look how cute you are in this photo!" he tells you, pointing his finger at one of your photos together, and you blush: "It's not fair! You're beautiful in all of them," you complain, and he chuckles. "It's the charm of mystery," he replies, and you nod in agreement.

Afterwards, you stop at a supermarket. Eating at the festival was out of the question; other things besides cotton candy cost too much, so you decide to buy some sandwiches to eat during the remaining journey.

“I consider myself a gallant man, but spending half my salary to make you eat rubbish, I'll save it to give you a nice gift in the future," he tells you, biting into his sandwich. "Then these are better!" he exclaims. It seems like he's never eaten anything better in his life.

"I could have offered,"

"I wouldn't let you; I invited you, so it's on me,"

"What if I had invited you?"

"I would offer anyway,"

"Because you're a man?"

"No, because you forgot your bag at home." Only now do you realize that you didn't bring your bag with you; you spent half an hour choosing the perfect one and then forgot it! As soon as he realizes that you've just noticed, he bursts into loud laughter, and you punch his metal arm to make him stop.

Your lips get dirty with sauce, and he wipes it off with the pad of his thumb, then licks it off his finger.

“Good,” he whispers, and you blush. 'We just indirectly kissed,' you think, feeling your cheeks on fire, and you stop composing any meaningful sentences.

“Did I mention I love it when you react like that?” he asks in a whisper, and a similar memory lights up in your mind.

"How?" you ask, still in a trance.

"When, after a gesture from me, you stop thinking and moving, you stay with your beautiful mouth open in a small and adorable 'o' and look at me as... as if I were someone who deserves your attention," he replies, and you are surprised by his observation skills. You blush and take his hand. He looks at you surprised and smiles at your gesture, holding your hand tightly as you walk, swinging your arms together like two children.

Once you arrive, Bucky immediately offers you cotton candy. There are countless colored lights and many rides full of children and adults. Everywhere you turn, there are groups of people talking and paying no attention to you. There's 80s music playing very loudly, so you have to scream to hear each other. You notice that Bucky doesn't feel comfortable with all these people, so you squeeze his hand tighter and look him straight in the eyes to spread courage. Together, you look at the rides, searching for one to have fun together. Some are scary to you, some are scary to Bucky, but he wouldn't admit it until you both decide to ride the Ferris wheel. Seeing the sunset from above would be magical. You line up, and when it's your turn, a man stops you.

“You…” he begins, pointing at Bucky. You don't understand what he might want from him, so you cling to his arm to comfort him. Bucky is agitated. His look doesn't show it, but he is absolutely agitated.

"You are the Winter Soldier!" the man exclaims, and Bucky's fears all come out. The man looks at him fearfully, and you don't understand what he means. The Winter Soldier is just an urban legend to you; how can anyone believe he exists? You also don't think Bucky is capable of killing. Bucky looks at you and notices your confusion as rumors that the Winter Soldier is right there spread among those present.

"Y/N, I have to go. Sorry," Bucky tells you. Breaking away from your hold, he walks away and leaves you there, alone and confused. Is the man you love really the legendary Winter Soldier?

Once you get home, you fall into bed. You're sad; everything was going so well with Bucky before he was forced to leave. You can't believe he's a monster. You don't want to believe it. He is a good man; inside, you know he is sweet and needs someone to stay by his side and not let him get hurt. However, you start to connect all the pieces. Is this why he is so mysterious? You need to talk to him, but you don't know how. You've never exchanged phone numbers and have never seen him with a cell phone, so it never occurred to you to ask him. All you have to do is wait for Monday, when you go back to work.

You hear the doorbell ring, and as soon as you see Megan with two jars of ice cream and a bag containing some DVDs with her favorite films, you can't help but hug her. You told her that Bucky had to leave without telling her why, and she assumed he was just an asshole.

"You don't know much about the Winter Soldier, do you? And I'm sure the others don't know more than you either," she tells you, and you nod.

Megan tells you what HYDRA did to Bucky and how they manipulated his mind to make him a ruthless killer. You listen to her while eating large spoonfuls of your ice cream. She tells you that there is a lot of information online about the "Winter Soldier," and she, being very curious, read all the articles she found and discovered his tragic story. 'If all this information is public knowledge, why hasn't anyone defended Bucky?' you think. You wish Bucky had told you, but you recognize that it really is a huge burden. A burden too great for one person alone.

“I have to go see him,” you tell Megan, standing up mid-movie.

"Don't be reckless; how do you think you'll find him? You don't have a number or a home address," your friend scolds you, but you're not going to give up so easily. You grab your phone and call your employer. Bucky works there; he must have definitely given some of his data to that man. Even though dinner time has passed a few hours ago, he replies to you.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you the data you ask for; it would be a violation of privacy," and here you put your plan into action.

"It's urgent! I'm pregnant with him, and I need to tell him right away! I can't wait until Monday, please." Megan looks at you and giggles as you send her a wink.

"Oh God, congratulations! If you put it on this level..." you knew that your employer could not let these things slide, and in order not to stop the love of two young people, he would be willing to break some small privacy law. You write down Bucky's number and home address in a notebook, and before hanging up the call, you thank your employer from the bottom of your heart.

“Now you really have to get knocked up,” Megan teases as you put your cardigan on over your pajamas. No time to change!

"Stay as long as you want; make yourself at home," you reply and close the door behind you.

Thanks for reading! If there is something you want to tell me about it feel free to tell me. I would also like what you think and how you would like it to continue <3

I remember that if you want to be added to the tag list, just write to me or a comment here or in messages (it's also good as an excuse to talk, I love meeting new people knowing that we have common interests!♡)

I think the next chapter will be the last, I can't tell you now if I will make an epilogue or not but I want to write a one-shot where Sam forces Bucky to bring you flowers. Tell me if you would be interested!

Series' masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

[bg-brainrot]

Alone in a Crowded Camp

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: A short Astarion reflection, where he realizes that company isn't so bad.

Tags: Astarion POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings

A/N: My ~mood~ persists and I wanted to make this real angsty, but even I couldn’t do that to myself hah. A short little oneshot to try to get me out of my funk!

Word count: ~1.1k

Alone.

Astarion has gotten quite good at being alone.

For two hundred years, he's been surrounded by people– their faces, their bodies, their sickly sweet words and insincere affections. But all along, he has been deeply, achingly alone.

He's had his siblings, ugh, if that's what you could call them. They’ve been a constant, annoying, and at times cruel presence in his life. They’ve felt like a growth he could no more remove than he could ignore. And, through the misery and the pain, he somehow still managed to feel gods awfully alone.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the source of his loneliness. After all, he has nary a moment to himself. But no matter how many people, no matter how frequently he’s with them, something is missing. There is no connection, no kindness, no caring. He simply is alone.

As such, Astarion has grown downright skilled at solitude. A practical art form, he's certain– someone else may call it a method of coping. Either way, it’s not a skill he's comfortable to admit.

Especially not when he suddenly finds himself surrounded once more, veritably drowning in the same disgusting familiarity and the startling newness of companionship. Because this time, he's free. Or as free of Cazador as he's willing to believe for the moment. And his companions don't expect much from him. At least not more than he's willing to provide.

So when he settles into the motley crew, he’s prepared to face the same discordant discomfort of isolation, all while being a hair’s breadth from falling into someone’s bedroll.

Instead, what he finds is an unconventional, at times chaotic, symphony.

The loud sheering sound of weapons being sharpened.

The heat of bodies surrounding a late night campfire.

The beautiful, desperate joy on the faces of those who may not live to see another day.

Astarion soon discovers that, despite the dirt, despite the tentacled doom lingering over his gorgeous head of curls, the boisterous mundanity of daily life is oddly… welcome.

For so long, as long as he can remember honestly, he’d dreaded meeting someone new. Meeting someone new meant as much a death sentence for them as it meant a detestable evening for him, a night lost to his inevitable withdrawal into the deepest darkness he could muster. 

But here, in the warm glow of firelight, the darkness abates. 

Against all of his efforts, he actually learns about the group.

How Lae’zel single-handedly took on her entire crèche while training, how many rooms Gale’s tower boasts back in Waterdeep, how far Wyll’s travels have taken him along the Chionthar, how Shadowheart didn’t need her memories to remember she hated bad wine, how Karlach once defeated a Pit Fiend in the hells themselves. None of them are things he expected to learn, nor care about. But he finds himself listening, chortling along all the same.

And then there’s you.

At first, he’d kept you a careful arm and knife distance away– an asset surely, but just as surely a dangerous one. He’d learned early in his time with Cazador that anyone who could wield both blade and charm was not someone to be trifled with.

What he hadn’t expected was the way that you made him feel: Distinctly not-alone.

Whether it be catching the mischievous twinkle in your eye from across the room or finding himself wrapped in your arms, feeling your body heat slowly seeping into him– he simply can’t understand how you make the world feel so full.

Astarion isn’t sure if he loves this new feeling of overwhelming closeness or misses the solitude. He wonders if he’ll ever feel alone again, and the idea that he may not both thrills and terrifies him.

Because there is something soothing about being alone, a type of insidious succor only his own thoughts provide.

The ache loneliness has carved in his chest is as lingering as it is deeply rooted within him and, like a plant desperately trying to survive, he finds the roots digging deeper and deeper in an attempt to stay grounded.

His moments of actual time to himself have been scarce, of course. So, in his fear, Astarion has gotten used to finding his solitude among the chaos, sequestering himself away from any who might hurt him before such a chance could arise.

Retreating from their kindness, reciprocating with sharply worded barbs, shooting utterly underserved glares in every direction. Their wounded looks mean nothing to him– why should they? They are just another group of strangers, one vampire lord away from becoming another pile of corpses.

However, much like every other of his carefully thought out plans, you are ready to thwart him. For every attempt he makes to withdraw, you’re right there, proving time and again that you are no stranger. Not anymore.

“Astarion.”

It’s a simple thing, his name. The last remnant from a mother he no longer remembers. It sounded wretched upon Cazador’s lips, a curse he could never break. Upon yours though? It may as well be a blessing. 

With that one, simple name, his loneliness is allayed. The roots embedded within him pull back, if only for the moment.

Despite his best efforts, he remembers that he is not alone. Astarion feels at ease.

His heart opens, little by little, and not just to you.

Living hundreds of years as he has, faces had begun to meld together, names began to lose their meaning, voices their distinct candor. But for the first time in a long, long time, he finds himself seeing, listening, connecting to others in a way he no longer believed himself capable of.

It’s… nice. Not that he’ll ever tell the others.

Naturally, his past doesn’t simply up and vanish. His mind still drifts, and he finds himself retreating into the damning safety of solitude from time to time. But each and every time, a hand reaches out– at times jovial, sometimes tentative, other times caring– ready to pull him back to the present.

“Astarion?”

One such hand comes into his field of view, and he takes it instinctively. It’s warm, comforting, and scarred with the beautiful history of an adventurous past. He could get lost in the look and feel of this hand.

“Astarion? Are you alright?”

Your voice is soft, tone gently questioning– yet still worried. Adorable, but you needn’t worry about him. He doubts he’s ever been better.

“Mmm, yes, darling. Quite alright.”

“Good.” 

Your hand squeezes his as you respond and he’s certain that, as long as you’re next to him, he may never feel alone again. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing after all.

[ddollfface]

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲

𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙊𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Warnings; bad writing, might be ooc (don't come at me lol), not proofread, obsessional behavior, idk if this is really Yandere tbh, honestly, this is just be dipping my toes into fanfiction... If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I've only watched the tv shows, so all of my information comes from that and the wiki. If anyone knows where to read the manga, then please message me! Also, this is inspired by @mothwingwritings and @yandere-writer-momo ♡

Throughout the series, Katsumi is shown to be loyal to those he deems close and important to him. One of these people is Karate (I suppose, it's a thing, but whatever). Even when faced with people he respects, like Retsu, he refuses to give it up, to deny the power it has. This is shown during the tournament saga where Retsu demands that Katsumi admit that Chinese Kenpō is superior to Karate, of course, he denies it.

Now, what does this say about Katsumi? Well, it shows that when he feels loyalty towards someone/something, he'll cling to it and fight for it until his last breath. Katsumi is strong-willed, and never gives in without a fight; he fights for others' honor. He's been shown to have a vengeance streak, where he'll seek out those he's deemed to have defamed the people he holds dear to him.

He's very smooth with his words and has a boyish charm to him, allowing you to drop your guard when you really shouldn't. His sheepish smile and constant cocky appeal cause you to feel relaxed and underestimate him, forgetting that he's a dangerous man who could snap you in half with his pinky. It's really too easy for him to find where you live, sneak into your apartment, and watch you. All without you noticing; how sweet of you. You don't even realize that Katsumi has grown so attached, not noticing how close he sticks to your side or how his eyes darken whenever you talk to Retsu or Katou (if he ever comes around).

I can imagine Katsumi with most types of darlings, but I think he'd lean towards darlings who are a Good Samaritan. How they show that empathetic behavior solely depends on their personality. You don't have to be energetic and bubbly to be a good person and to help others, instead, you can be quiet and timid. You can be a little colder, but as long as you're willing to step in and help others when they're in need, even if you might put yourself in danger, Katsumi will ultimately find you attractive and court you.

I think that the empathetic characteristic is the root of his attraction, seeing you be so kind and caring just makes his heart swell. He knows you're a good person, and that's what makes you so attractive. Well, you're appearance is also a key factor, but ignore that.

Katsumi just wants someone selfless and willing to put themselves on the line for others, no matter if they know the person or not, as he knows that they'd make a good partner, a good mama. That's ultimately Katsumi's goal in life: to have a family. I subscribe to the headcanon that Katsumi has a breeding kink and he loves children; I don't care what anybody says.

There's no doubt in my mind that he's a loverboy who just wants someone to love, but things go wrong when that love isn't recognized or reciprocated. Not only that, but Katsumi's love can be... overbearing, to say the least. He can get a little too excited, especially when he's around you. And that's when his boyish nature comes in. He becomes too aggressive with his courting tactics (this is similar to Ali Jr. and Baki, me thinks).

These three guys, especially Katsumi, have been shown to be a little blinded by arrogance and their youth (not saying that other characters, who are older, haven't). They're all in their early twenties, and Katsumi being twenty in the Pickle saga, meaning they don't have a lot of experience with women.

Now that we're on the topic of experience, I think that Katsumi has been on dates with women, talked to women, and flirted with women. I mean, look at him. He's attractive, both physically and emotionally, and he's in the prime of his life. Not only that, but he's the adoptive son of Doppo Orochi, though I doubt that matters to most girls, but whatever. This means that he's got money, a lot of it. Doppo's wealth has been reiterated throughout the series that Katsumi is a spoiled kid, and I see that point.

So there's no denying that girls are attracted to him, and I think Katsumi isn't afraid to go up to women; he's quite charismatic. But why doesn't he have a girl? I think that's partially because of his dedication to his martial arts, making it difficult to maintain a relationship, and most girls wouldn't stick around for that. Now, that factor wipes out half of his dating pool, making it difficult for him to have anything but a one-night stand or a few dates.

He can't help but long for someone deeper, long for someone who truly cares for him. Katsumi wants someone who needs him, and relies on him to be provided for, and cared for. He wants to be acknowledged for his hard work, how calloused his hands are, and how good of a leader he strives to be. He just wants someone who'd be his cheerleader, someone who'd support him the way he'd support them.

This drive and desperate need for someone causes him to act irrationally when he finally finds someone even close to his dreams. It doesn't matter where or when you meet, whether it's before or after he's lost his arm, as long as he feels that recognition, he's lovestruck.

(This is where I go off on a tangent, I'm so sorry)

I've read a book called Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell, and it's all about humans and how we think as a species. He goes on and on about this thing called thin slicing. Thin slicing is an ability that all humans have, something we've developed through years of evolution, and it's the ability to make a split-second decision (on a situation or person) based off of little information. According to Gladwell, we do this every day. Thin slicing is fueled by our fight or flight response, more so whether or not we fight, fight, or freeze.

Gladwell says that the moment we make eye contact with someone, or speak a singular word with someone, we've already decided whether or not we like them or not, whether or not we'll befriend them. In multiple studies, Gladwell cites, he says that you can determine whether or not a couple will have a long-lasting relationship just based off of one conversation, a conversation that's no more than a minute long.

It's all about subconscious cues we give off when we speak, much like the phrase 'actions speak louder than words.' Certain cues attract people to each other, unknowing actions that we do that pull others toward us.

Honestly, it's a really interesting thing, and I think that because a lot of Baki men rely on their instincts, and they use thin slicing in every one of their fights, they'll use their instincts to determine who their darlings are. If you were to ask any of the Baki men, in this hypothetical world where they have a darling, I think they wouldn't be able to answer. That they wouldn't know. And that's because it was an instinctual decision, something they knew subconsciously the moment they met you, you, you.

There was just something about you that drew them in, and they would be able to give a broad definition, but they wouldn't be able to tell specifics. And that's the beauty of attraction, so if you think about it, love at first sight is a real thing, yeah?

End of tangent

Because of this, he'll take any one of your interactions and dramatize them. You say that it's cold outside? Now, he thinks you're trying to hint to him that you want his jacket (you don't; you were making small talk). You say that you think his hair looks nice today? Welp, that means you must want to play with his hair, right (Natsue just told you he got a haircut). Hell, your shoulders brush against each other while you two are walking? You're practically telling him that you want a hug! (No, you just were too close to the street).

The point is that any normal reaction or conversation is used to fuel his obsession with you. Within a few weeks of knowing each other, he's thinking that you're going to be the mama of his children. There's no doubt in his mind that you're meant to be. Katsumi will even look at your zodiacs. Did you know that you two are compatible? What a coincidence. It must be fate.

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! Absolutely love your work, especially Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher. I was wondering a couple things:

Any chance we will ever get to see that deleted scene where Carla plays a homeless woman singing to Madeleine? Loved the Easter egg and also can’t get enough of Verna so it would be so cool to see that deleted scene!

Also wanted to know what it was like working with Mary? It was such a joy to see her in House of Usher!! Hoping to see her in future Flanaverse projects!!

Hi there! That material was removed very early in the editing process, long before the scene was completed, so there isn't a finished "scene" to show. Carla and Mary did fine work acting in those moments, but the series as a whole is stronger without it, so a completed version of the scene with that footage simply never existed. It's an odd alchemy when you tell a story this way, and sometimes scenes that seem to work on the page can be acted beautifully, shot exquisitely, and still not be necessary or additive. In this case, it actually worked against the mysteries of the show, it wasn't believable that Madeline wouldn't recognize Verna, and it was clear that this was a mistake. It was my mistake for writing the scene the way I did, and it happens all the time. We could tell immediately that it didn't fit, so we didn't waste much time proving it out. Releasing deleted scenes is a tricky thing. I love bonus features - it's one of the great benefits of physical media - but even if we had a huge special edition box set of Usher, I don't know that we would have included this scene. Sometimes these things just aren't meant for the audience, even as an interesting relic, and this is one of those times. Incidentally, I had the same feeling about some of the material that didn't make it into the Bly Manor edit. We knew the scenes weren't working very early in the process, so they were never refined into any shape that would warrant their release. Fans will hear an actor talk about scenes they worked on, and the fans get all excited, but if they were to see those scenes it wouldn't enhance their love of the characters or the story... in fact, it can work against it. For years, I've had Bly fans reach out lamenting that they can't see some of the Bly material they've read about in cast interviews, but I'm certain that seeing it in its raw, unfinished state wouldn't enhance or deepen their love of the characters or the show. There's really nothing to release. It's just excess material that lands on the floor while you're sculpting, and sticking it back onto the sculpture only makes a noticeable wart. Other times, though, deleted scenes can be incredibly additive. For example, I think the 30 minutes we took out of the theatrical release of Doctor Sleep only enhanced the movie, and made the experience that much more rich - which was why I was so happy to release the Director's Cut with those scenes restored. Those scenes, though, were fully finished, and only removed in the first place because of the movie's run-time. Restoring those elements made the sculpture complete - they were always supposed to be there. But most times, deleted material is just unnecessary material. It can be like having an amazing meal prepared for you, and then being handed a plate of surplus or unused ingredients. Like, the chef needed to peel a lemon before squeezing it over the meal as a wonderful finishing touch. That dash of citrus really made the meal sing. But that doesn't mean you want to eat the peel. And I LOVE working with Mary. I'm sure we'll do it again!