#i heart women in turtlenecks

[lochlot-moved]

quick prentiss sketches cuz I’m watching cm before bed

[michelle-is-writing]

Unsuspecting Suspect, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

In movies, the "pregnant women always have to go to the bathroom" is a popular joke to use. However, what most people don't realize is that the joke is highly played down. What you see in movies is nothing compared to what really occurs.

What really occurs is getting up from bed after only five minutes of getting comfortable to go to the bathroom for the fiftieth time that day. Not to mention you've become so used to the bathroom that you don't even have to turn the lights on or anything - you already know where everything is. Plus, if you're me, then that also means picking up your husbands lazily discarded pants that are crumpled up on the floor with his gun and all of his badges still hooked on there just so you can wash your hands.

"Spencer, I know you've worked long and hard," I start, picking up his wrinkled slacks from the bathroom floor. "But if your pregnant wife has to continue bending over and picking up your pants every time she has to use the bathroom because your daughter seems to think my bladder is a punching bag," I begin taking everything off of his belt. "Then I might just have to use you as a punching bag."

"I'm sorry!" I hear him apologize from the bedroom, an ounce of laughter behind his voice. "I forget and just leave them there - I'm sorry!" Spencer repeats himself, making me bite my lip from laughter. He has eidetic memory, and yet, he still 'forgets' his pants when he takes them off everyday he comes home from work.

Taking his badge off his belt and placing it on the counter, I begin dismantling everything else as well. The last thing to remove is his gun and holster, and with this clunky thing, I try as hard as I can to not let it make a sound as I put it on the countertop. Spencer has been very quiet for the past few minutes, and if he's fallen asleep, I don't want to accidentally wake him up.

I just hope he's not quiet because he's worrying himself sick. As of lately, he's had a stalker that the BAU can't seem to figure out who they are. They know they're male, going by the style of handwriting, and they know he has a pattern. Every Tuesday, a letter is sent to Spencer's desk at the BAU, and yet, there's never a return address or fingerprints to go off of. Today was Tuesday, and for some reason, Spencer didn't receive anything. It worried Spencer a lot, but I'm just hoping the stalker has given up; however, his previous letters show no sign of him doing this which makes this all more worrisome.

"No, no, please," I hear Spencer's voice from the bedroom once more, making my eyes go wide as I quickly catch onto the fright and panic in his tone. Who is he talking to? Especially when I've been in this bathroom no longer than five minutes, and I didn't hear a phone ring or anything.

"You are Spencer Reid," My ears catch a very unfamiliar voice, causing me to fully come to a halt with Spencer's revolver still in my hand. Who the hell is in my house? And how the hell did they get in?

Silently padding over to the bathroom doorway, I try as hard as I can to crack open the door enough to see who's in our house. As I do so, I feel my heart beat a mile a minute, and the little girl in my stomach still hasn't given up on her kicking assault. "Your birthday is October of nineteen-eighty-one. Your mother,"

The man pauses to laugh, appearing as if he were trying to mock Spencer; I take this chance to open the doorway as much as I can without alerting the man, and thankfully, it seems to be a success. "The poor old broad can't decipher through her own mind - never has been able to," The man continues. "Finally, you turn eighteen, you send her away, and you go on to live your own life in college and, soon enough, the BAU,"

Slowly peeking around the corner, I see the man talking to a very wide-awake Spencer with his gun raised at him, no mask concealing his face. Instead, his entire body is covered in black material spanning from a dark turtleneck all the way down to pitch black slacks and charcoal boots. Yet, his head and face are completely visible to anyone who sees him, and going by the fact that he's doing such a thing, he thinks he's going to get away with it and not get caught. Not on my watch.

"You've spent- no, wasted! Wasted nearly eleven years of your life on a job that prevents you from actually having a life!" At the mans words, I squint my eyes while readying Spencer's gun in my hands. "Face it, doctor Reid - you are nothing! I am smart - we are smart! But you have married yourself to your job that doesn't need you; it needs me," with that, the man pauses once again, but this time, he begins to pant, obviously worked up over what he's been saying. This guy has to be one of the most conceited guys to walk the earth.

"Now," The man states, leveling his eyesight with the gun once again. "Was there anything I missed?"

At this point, I come around the bathroom corner with Spencer's gun raised at the man. Through the sights, I see the two small pieces of metal lining up with the mans head, and in my peripherals, I see Spencer warily nod his head as he glances over me with extreme and utter nervousness.

"Uh, y-yes, actually," my husband answers, swallowing down his worry as the fate of his life rests at the tip of my fingers. Now that I think about it, if it weren't for Spencer's bad habit of leaving his pants in the middle of the bathroom floor, I wouldn't have the ability to save him right now.

Just as the man turns around, I line up the sights with his head once again as I pull the hammer back, the trigger following soon after. Watching as the man quickly goes down with no life left in him, only slight convulsions surging through him now, I slowly let my hands fall back to my side as the realization of what just occurred passes through me. I just shot someone... someone who was threatening my husband's life, but still! I've never done that before, and I never want to have to do it ever again!

Within a few moments of my eyes widening in shock, I feel Spencer take me into his arms while slowly taking the gun out of my hand and tossing it onto our bed. "You did so well, love," Spencer assures me in my ear, making me slowly sit on the ground with him as shock runs through me. I'm so stunned by what just happened that I can barely breathe. "You did good, baby, you did so good. I'm so proud of you."

Despite Spencer's words running through my head, I find myself suddenly gasping as I realize something. "Baby! The baby!" I almost shout, turning my head toward Spencer as my now free hand falls to my thirty-week old bump. "Spence, the-the noise, the noise! Could the noise have hurt her ears?"

Immediately, Spencer shakes his head before moving to place his hand on top of mine, his other hand raising at the same time to wipe away the sudden rush of tears falling down my face. "No, no, she's fine, (Y/n), she's fine," Spencer assures me, gently rubbing his thumb against my clothed belly. "The muscles and amniotic fluid protect her, so when the noise does reach her ears, it's extremely muffled," he further explains, gently taking my face into his hands to turn me toward him. "But I am going to have a medic look over you and the baby when they get here, okay?"

Keeping my eyes on his, I nod before laying my head against his chest, a small sigh falling from my lips. "He was the stalker, right?" I ask Spencer, my eyes flickering up to his face as his hand reaches down to gently card through my hair.

Spencer simply nods. "Yeah, he was," he tells me, making me shake my head. "The way he spoke, it's how he wrote his letters," Spencer further explains, "He was an obvious narcissist with a superiority complex - just like his letters."

That would explain the man's words from earlier and how selfish they all were. Although, what if the cops don't believe us and arrest me in spite of what's been going on? I know Spencer wouldn't have gotten in trouble shooting him as a BAU agent, but what about me?

"Spencer, am I going to jail?" I immediately ask, my eyes growing wide as panic sets in my chest.

"No, no, you aren't, and you need to calm down," Spencer tells me, holding my head to his chest as he kisses my temple. He's trying to comfort me while also preventing me from looking over at the dead man currently lying on our bedroom floor. "You did nothing wrong, that was self-defense, and you protected me as well as save me from the man who was going to kill me, no doubt," he points out, his voice growing softer with every word. "You're awesome, love."

In response to his comment, I find myself lightly laughing with tears rising to my eyes again. That's what I usually tell Spencer when he gets back from a case and they successfully stopped a killer. Even if the case goes awry and Spencer returns home sad or disappointed in himself, I still remind him of my usual compliment. Now, much to my disbelief, the roles have reversed and now it is me who has stopped the bad guy.

Once my breathing is slowed and my panic has settled down, Spencer helps me go back to our bathroom where he makes me stay. Without wasting anymore time, Spencer grabs his phone from his side table and dials the police before walking through the house with his gun in hand to make sure there are no other intruders. Thankfully, there isn't, and Spencer soon returns to the bathroom to take me out to the living room, getting me as far away from the dead body as he can all the while making sure I remain comfortable.

Sitting behind me on the couch, Spencer makes me lie between his legs as I rest my back against his chest, his right hand rubbing soothing circles against my bump while he uses his other to dial up his team. Thankfully, soon of them are still at the office working late when Spencer calls.

"(Y/n) shot the stalker?" I hear Derek's familiar tone over the phone as Spencer explains the situation. As he goes on, the sound of sirens in the distance slowly grow closer, and the only thing I can do is hold a hand to my swollen tummy as our little girl gives the occasional kick to my ribs.

"Yes, directly in the head," Spencer answers Derek with a quick glance over to our bedroom where the dead body remains, the spilled blood from his wound no doubt soaking into floor. I never would have listed 'blood is easier to clean up' as a pro when choosing hardwood over carpet. "She shot like a trained officer."

Spencer's comment warrants a rare chuckle from their boss. "Too bad she wasn't able to help you when you failed your shooting test and needed to retake it," Hotch's voice pipes up from the background, causing Spencer to let out a little 'hey!' in response. In light of the situation, I laugh a little at that. I can remember him calling me after failing it and I had to tell him it was okay. Of course, in his mind, it wasn't.

"I don't fail tests." I remember him telling me, making me laugh. No matter what I said, he still continued on about failing the test, unable to let it go.

"The team will be here in a few minutes, okay?" I hear him tell me, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the moment. I hadn't even realized he ended the call with his team.

Still, I nod back at him, only a few seconds passing before he's leaning over and pressing his lips against my cheek. "It'll all be okay," He assures me, making me slightly nod with another small shuddered breath. "I promise," He further assures me, sensing my anxiety. "I'd never let anything happen to my hero~"

[affectionatecorpse]

Neon J is just such a valuable character to me, honestly. It goes beyond "haha funny military robot man" but when you actually realise what Malaysia (where the game was made and set) is like then it's just like WOW, this character is so so important.

Malaysia isn't really a fan of people who fit outside a box, like the SAGA community. So in knowing that, having a Malaysian man be skinny with a snatched waist, wear a soft red turtleneck, be a single dad to 5 sons who dance in a way traditionally assigned to women, have a beautiful autotuned voice, and being so openly emotional and caring towards his people, while also not falling back on stereotypes by making him all overly dramatically sensitive and campy and addressing how he's incredibly tough, strong and brave, with a military background, and have him survive a bad injury that left him half machine, yet he's still as lively and stubborn as ever??? He's so cool???

Props to NSR for having a male character be kind hearted and unafraid of toxic masculinity and also have very grabbable hips, which I have only good intentions for (lie).

[cherryblossom-heart]

I loved you once B.B

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

19.1 k words

Content Warning: ANGST, heartbreak, cheating, mature themes, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (Pussy job, penetrative sex p in v, sad/angry sex? Rough sex mixed with a little pain. It will make sense once you read it) . Fluff, mentions of bad mental health from both Bucky and reader, graphic violence, character's death, mentions of women trafficking as well as assault.

A/N: Wow 19k words. Im sorry this took so long to finish but as you can tell it is super long as I promised. Buckle up y'all, this is sad. Also this is my first time writing a proper cheating fic so if you can/want let me know if you like it or not. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics and @cafekitsune

Now  

"Fuck you," you spat the words.    

Tears fell from your eyes as they made their way down your neck, making dark spots in the collar of your red turtleneck. Even when pain was drowning you, beauty never left you. Bucky felt as if he were watching a beautiful Renaissance painting—a tragedy of sorts.   

"Is that all? I really don’t have time for this."   

He didn’t recognize his own words or the indifference they came out with. He didn’t mean to say them, but it was as if his own body was working on autopilot, and he was only a spectator to the shitshow it was causing. He wanted to stop. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say so many things, but the only thing he was capable of was hurting you.   

"Are you kidding me? That’s all you’re going to say?"   

"What else do you want me to say? You know what happened, you saw her with your own eyes. Anything I say is either going to make you angrier or make you cry even more. Let’s just be done with this, you’ll eventually get over it."   

The sound of your hand connecting with his face put an end to his sentence. The hit didn’t feel as such, his skin barely processed it as anything more than a simple graze, but once the initial shock wore off, the sting came along. But it didn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart when his eyes connected with yours once again.   

"I always knew you were capable of many things, but not once did I think you would ever be this cruel."   

Your eyes drifted to your hands, your right hand playing with the ring you wore in your left. A sigh left your lips, and more tears fell before you finally slid it off your finger, placing it on the table next to you.   

A bucket of iced water. Painful, burning, scorching coldness— that’s how Bucky would describe looking at you while silently breaking your engagement. His mind was telling him to get on his knees, beg, and try to fix everything he had broken. But the darkest part of him, the one that had taken over his life was assuring him you were bluffing. You couldn’t leave, you always stayed. You always fought for him, even when he didn’t deserve it.   

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes rolling with the uninterested façade he had perfected.   

"I’m done, I can’t keep doing this anymore." You turned your back, strong and determined steps leading to his apartment door.  

Please, fix this.   

His trembling hands made their way to your wrist, anything that could mend the cracks in your heart that seeped with pain, the cracks he had caused with his own selfishness. Before his fingers could even graze your skin, your hand quickly swatted away his pathetic effort to stop you.  

"God, stop being so goddamed drama—"   

"Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t try to contact me ever again, I won’t answer."   

"Can you just—"   

"If I ever see you again I swear I’ll murder you. I didn’t kill you the first time we met but I swear I’ll do it if you even dare to breath in my direction."   

Your words hurt, it seemed as though each one stabbed him right through the chest in a taunting way, a reminder of how much he had screwed up. Bile rose to his throat when you recoiled at his proximity, and the hate in your eyes burned him with such force that he was sure you wouldn't wait until the next time you met.   

He deserved it either way.  

Bucky's eyes opened just as the car jolted, his heart racing against his chest, his ears buzzing. For a fraction of a second, he's confused, not remembering why he was in the car, but the fogginess of his thoughts was replaced with anxiety when he heard the tracker beeping on Sam's thigh. 

"Good, you’re awake. I think we’re almost there." Sam kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing down at the device that told him where to go. Judging by his demeanor, his friend didn’t seem as nervous as he did, if at all. It wasn’t like Sam had a reason to, he was the only one who had fucked up.  

He looked out at the vehicle, and the passing trees in the darkness of the night numbed his mind while he tried to forget about his dream. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was his worst memory to date. Usually, his nightmares were about the crimes he had committed while being the Winter Soldier, and he could blame them on his consciousness not being there with him. His own body didn’t belong to him, so he couldn’t keep blaming himself for the things HYDRA had forced him to do.  

With you, on the other hand, he could not blame anyone else but himself. His mind wasn’t tortured by a secret organization in hopes of ruining his relationship, nor was he forced to hurt the person about whom he cared the most to save thousands of lives. He did it all by himself, and now the nightmares have not only scared him but hurt him all over again.  

You started to show up in his dreams more frequently once Sam told him they needed your help. As expected, the super-soldier's first reaction was total and complete refusal. His friend thought it was a childish reaction the former winter soldier was having to avoid the awkwardness of meeting you again, only knowing your relationship had ended on bad terms without hearing the specifics. But the blue-eyed man wasn’t doing it for himself, he was doing it for you. The night you left, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him, or even anything related to him, your resignation from the Avengers Team and subsequent evaporation from the face of the earth was a strong message to leave you alone.  

After a few hours of arguing, with both men going back and forth on why they did or didn't need you, Bucky finally agreed to go look for you. Lives were at stake, and no matter how hard he tried to look for a solution that avoided you, there seemed to be none. Before he could ask where to even start looking for you, Sam pulled out a device that seemed familiar to a phone. You had given Sam, and only Sam, a tracker that could find you anywhere in the world and could only be unlocked by a password you had whispered to him  

The depth of his tormenting cycle of thoughts didn’t let him register they weren’t on the road anymore until his partner stopped the vehicle. They were surrounded by tall, dense trees, and the crickets and cicadas that hid in the dark made an orchestra that filled the emptiness of the night. Sam grabbed his gear, the sound of a duffle bag being opened broke the rhythm of nature.  

"Why are we stopping here?" Bucky asked with a frown. His own duffle was placed across his back, the tinkering of the metal inside it annoying him slightly.  

His friend threw an annoyed look at him before rolling his eyes and scrambling through his belongings. "As I said like twenty minutes ago while you were brooding and having your own pity party, this thing shows her inside a building in the middle of the woods. I’d like to take a look around the area before going in blind."  

"Oh."  

Normally, the super soldier would’ve had a comeback for the annoying yet harmless insults his friend and partner would throw at him, even a snide comment. But this was different, no matter what Sam would say, he could only think of what was about to happen. So he let it slide, submerging himself in his own thoughts while Sam threw the little flying robot he nicknamed "Red Wing" into the air. Once it was hovering above them and Sam made sure to have full control of it, they began a walk that would last about thirty minutes before the device would find any signs of life.  

Sam and him were waiting somewhere near the alleged building, Sam's robot scanning the surroundings.The thumping in his chest returned, and his fingers became ice cold.He was so close. Close enough to see you, close enough to talk to you, and perhaps close enough to apologize. 

How would you react to seeing him? Would you be happy to see him? Probably not, considering the last thing you said to him was that you would kill him if he ever came near you. He knew he deserved it, but hopefully time changed your murderous resolution. Maybe even forgave him.  

Could you ever forgive him?  

A slight swat from Sam brought him back from his thoughts, silently letting him know they were ready to go. Bucky could sense it before the place was even visible, the vibrations of the music resonating through the ground. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and humanity reached his nostrils right as they saw the line of cars parked in a plain field next to what resembled a warehouse.  

To an untrained eye, it would look like a normal, unsanitary, and probably unsafe rave done by stupid people. But the polarized windows of the cars, the shine coming from the inside of the guards' jackets, and the lot of security cameras installed in the building told another story. Whatever or whoever was in there was dangerous, and as usual, you had gotten yourself in the middle of it.  

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He knew you couldn’t stay away from helping people, no matter how hard you tried. He saw the breadcrumbs, microscopic, little clues that he could recognize as your style. A missing girl suddenly returning to her family, a kidnapped journalist in the middle of war returning to their respective embassy. A child trafficker falling from his hotel room in the twentieth floor. You had always been... effective when it came to missions, sometimes going overboard with your methods, but Tony, Steve, and himself had always guided you towards the good and righteous path that a person with your abilities was supposed to take. 

You lost all three of them in the span of a year.  

They were lucky that it was relatively easy to get inside, and even luckier that their clothes didn't draw too much attention to them. Sure, they seemed to be wearing more clothes than needed, as most people seemed to enjoy themselves topless and/or pantless, but with the darkness of the room barely being lit by the flashing blue and red lights, no one really noticed them.  

Guys, girls, and people he wasn’t sure how to label were grinding against each other. Hands touched him, pulling his jacket, and he had to push them all away, trying to make his way through the sea of people. The inside of the warehouse could pass for a functioning club, with couches, dance floors, and screens accommodating everyone inside.  

Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything like this; the debauchery that people showed shocked his old-fashioned ways. He was sure he had seen several people inside each other, whether it was fingers, tongues, or dicks, no one seemed to mind that everyone else could see them. How had you gotten yourself into the middle of this disguised orgy? What were you even doing here?  

Both men made their way to the front of the place, where a private section was installed looking over the dancefloor. Two large guys guarded the stairs that connected the lower and upper levels, allowing mostly attractive girls to ascend. Both men agreed that if you were to be found somewhere, it would undoubtedly be there. They scanned the room, looking for any way they could access the VIP level without having a pair of tits and long legs.  

He had never understood scenes in movies where they showed time slowing down. Every time he had been in a fight, whether it was as himself in the forties or as the winter soldier, everything seemed to happen too fast to process. Even the night you left, time had seemed to go at an abnormally fast pace, and by the time he could finally react the way he wanted, it had been too late.  

He never understood those scenes until he saw you walking to the protective railing surrounding the edge of the private section. Above the deafening music, the moans, and the music, he could hear your voice talking to someone else.  

It was as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your beauty had remained the same your hair, your eyes, and your lips all looked the same, yet his heart started racing just as it did all those years ago. You weren’t dressed like everyone else dancing around him, your black dress with a dangerous deep cleavage was sensuous, but it held a certain level of class that made you stand out from the crowd.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Time moved at a slow pace, the slowest he had experienced. He was grateful for it, as it allowed him to appreciate every detail from you. The way your lips came close to the drink you had in your hand, the drumming your fingers did on top of the railing, the glint in your eyes—he knew it meant you were lost in your thoughts.   

Bucky had never been more grateful for the way time passed. Until he saw a pair of hands sliding across your waist, fingers gripping your hips so roughly, he was sure they would leave a mark on your skin. A semi-attractive man whispered words in your ear, his beard scruffing against your skin. You smirked, turning around to plaster your lips against his in a kiss that could make a pornstar blush.  

He knew you'd moved on; nearly a year had passed since the last time he saw you, and you'd probably found someone to sleep with, but he wasn't ready to watch you become someone else's. His mind was prepared to face your happiness, but his heart wasn’t. And even now, he was sure you were just tagging along with the man, using him for information for whatever mission you had gotten yourself into, yet he felt as if what remained of his heart had been ripped out of his chest.  

With strong, rough movements, the man turned you around, pressing your body against the railing. As his hand grabbed your neck, your hips grinded against his, your mouth open as you licked your lips. 

The super soldier couldn’t take it anymore, his heart begged him to stop the torture. He wasn’t even sure where Sam was, nor did he care. He cared about you, and he could only think about what he had lost. With the last of his dignity, he began to look away from you and your companion, who had leaned over to your ear once more. Except this time his eyes found Bucky’s, his fingers tightening around your neck.  

He knew. Somehow the man knew who he was and, most importantly, who you were.  

Your eyes widen slightly, searching through the sea of people dancing downstairs. But it didn't take you long to find those blue eyes you once adored. He was there, looking exactly the same as the night you left him, along with your heart.  

"I know who you are." The man whispered in your ear—a threat not so subtly hidden behind every word.  

But you couldn’t dwell long on his words because ice-cold eyes looked back at you. Ice cold eyes brought back the pain you thought you left behind, and the rage surfaced once more as you remembered the promises you made him.  

Cold metal was pressed against your neck, the edge of it grazing your skin. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm, and his hands turned into fists, making him look like he cared. Like he actually had a heart.  

He barely took two steps in your direction when the wicked smile you wore stopped him. It was sinister. It was deadly. And when you turned to the man to say something, his grip faltered as one word left your lips.  

"Good"  

Your head connected against the man’s nose, a crack let you know it was most likely broken. You barely heard the man’s yells when bullets made their way to you, a couple of them grazing your skin. The room that was once filled with hips swaying, alcohol, and moans had transformed into a frenzy of screams and people running to get out of the building.  

The crowd tried to take Bucky away; their desperate attempts at escaping dragged him away as he fought his way through the sea of people. Seconds passed, and he could hear your grunts as well as more shooting coming from the upper floor, with girls running down the stairs, some of them with splashes of blood staining their clothes.  

He didn’t know whose blood it belonged to, and that frightened him.  

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. "What the hell happened?"  

His friend had managed to make his way to him, both of them still getting pushed around. Bucky offered him a quick glance before resuming his previous task of making his way to the stairs.  

"Her cover is blown," was all the explanation Bucky offered, and somehow it was enough. Before any of them could add anything, screams came from the front door, three bulky men were making their way there while carrying very large and dangerous guns. "Take care of them, I’ll go help her," the super soldier said without leaving any room for discussion.  

When his fingers finally grabbed the banister of the stairs, Bucky was close to losing his mind. Climbing two steps at a time, he finally found himself a scene that froze him in the spot.  

You were there, your black dress ripped in some places, your makeup ruined by mascara running down your cheeks, and blood splashes tainted your flawless skin. Bucky had managed to get there just in time as you twisted a man's arm to an unnatural angle, the crack of his joint popping out of place was followed by his screams. You had managed to kill/knock out everyone except for the guy who had previously had a knife to your throat, and Bucky knew better than to think that was just a mere coincidence.  

After the last man fell to the ground, blood sputtering out of his neck, you lifted your gaze towards him. He couldn’t read you as easily as he had once been able to and he hated it. Before, he was sure he knew you better than you knew yourself, more than once already sure of your likes and dislikes before you asked him for an opinion. He had treasured those times in his mind, and the memories were as comforting as they were painful. A constant reminder of what he had lost.  

He was right there, right in front of you. The man you fell in love with when you still had a heart. The man who still had a tight grip on it and who would probably always own it. He could keep it for all you cared, your heart was tainted with memories you didn’t wish to keep.  

It was the first time both of you were this close, every scream gone as you were absorbed by your own bubble. He looked so familiar that your own body reacted the way it used to whenever you saw him. Your heart stammered in your chest, and even after so long, the butterflies in your stomach appeared for a millisecond. He was the man you had once loved, he was the man with whom you imagined a future together.  

Then, you remembered why all your hopes and dreams had been destroyed.  

Bucky noticed the hurt flashing through your face, your jaw tightening right before you made your way to him. For a moment, he thought you were about to hug him, your desperation to reach him in your long strides mirroring his as his body begged him to touch you. He wanted to apologize, beg for forgiveness at your feet, and profess the love that he wasn’t able to forget. ��

Perhaps if his mind hadn't been plagued with all the things he wanted to do, he would’ve noticed your foot rising to give him a solid kick on the chest.  

The force and unexpectedness of your attack launched him back to the railing, throwing him over it. His back landed with a loud thud on the floor, fortunate enough for him, everyone else seemed to have dissipated and his fall wasn’t that high up. A second later, you jumped from the banister, landing on top of him with your knife in hand. Your knee found it’s place on his chest, feet pressing his hands flat on the surface. Before Bucky could even muster a word, the blade was pinned against his throat.  

"I told you if I ever saw you again, I would fucking kill you." 

Then  

Steve had changed so much in the years they had spent apart. His friend, who had once been the fragile little Brooklyn boy he would protect with his life, was now a fully grown man with a strength that could crush a person if he wasn’t careful enough. He was also now his protector, not from bullies that would harass him because of his own stubbornness but from a secret organization that wanted to take over the world. That and his own fractured mind.  

He had lost control once the man had given him the commands to bring back the deadly assassin they had turned him into. He remembered it all, but it had felt as if he was under water the whole time, falling deeper and deeper the more he tried to fight against it. His own body didn’t belong to him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.  

For a year, he had thought it was possible to lead a normal life; his time spent in Romania had given him false hope that he had gotten away from his captors. How foolish he had been, thinking he could ever be far away from his grasps. He wasn’t the man he was before, just a weapon designed to hurt people.  

He supposed he was lucky Steve still saw good in him, at least enough to turn against his teammates and friends to help him clear his name. And now, as they drove to one of Steve’s friends' hideouts, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything that was going on. If he hadn’t lost control, Steve wouldn't be a wanted criminal. If he wasn’t captured, a shit ton of innocent, good people would still be alive. If his mind had been stronger, he could’ve broken free of HYDRA's mind control.  

Maybe it would’ve been better if he had actually died when he fell from that train.  

Steve parked outside an abandoned apartment complex, it seemed no one had lived there in years. He threw a questioning eyebrow at Sam, who just shrugged before getting out of the vehicle. Another of Steve’s friends had decided to help him out of loyalty to Steve, not because he particularly liked Bucky or entirely believed in his good side.  

All three men walked inside the building, not a sound inside other than their footsteps and heavy breathing. Steve looked around for a couple of seconds before making his way to the second floor, his intuition telling him where to go. He stood in front of a door with a big C plastered on it, his friend's hand hesitating before knocking on the wood.  

After the third knock came back without an answer, Steve decided to open the door. He had called a name while crossing the threshold, looking around for any signs of life inside the apartment. Bucky was surprised to find the apartment filled with computers, blueprints, documents, and lots of military-grade equipment. Everything gave away the signs of someone working there, yet there was no one who took ownership over them.  

It was too late when Bucky heard you standing behind him, with his feet being swept by your leg and effectively knocking him down. The wooden floor amplified the echo of his fall, catching Steve and Sam’s attention. Your frame landed on top of his, gun aimed directly between his eyes.Bucky's hand reached to grab your ankle in an effort to destabilize you, but the barrel of your weapon was pressed right on his forehead.  

"I wouldn’t do it if I were you," you said coolly. "I promise you, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even land a hit."  

After your words filled the room, Bucky’s eyes finally took their chance to look at you, actually look at you.  

God, you were beautiful.  

Maybe it was only your physical beauty that had taken him by surprise, or the fact that you had taken him down so easily with just one leg movement. Or even the fact that you seemed to have no fear towards a man who was being marketed as a "dangerous and armed terrorist." Whatever it was, Bucky couldn’t deny the fact that you were the most beautiful human being he had seen.  

After a few explanations from Steve’s part and some begging for help, you released the super soldier from your hold, weapon holstered in your back. Your hand extended to help him get off the floor, and you offered him a charming but wary smile.   

You told the three men to make themselves at home and take anything they needed. Bucky had chosen to keep guard, being by himself in the top floor while looking out through a window that hid him from everyone else. He was stewing in his own complicated thoughts when he heard a knock on the wall. You were there, standing a few feet away from him with a shy smile on your face as you extended to him a cup filled with hot coffee.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

"Sorry about the whole thing holding you hostage," you said as he welcomed the cup.  

His fingers accidentally grazed against your own, and it was as if he had touched electricity itself. Heat extended from his hands all through his body, and his ability to think was thrown out of the window. He looked at you, and he couldn’t tell if you felt the same or not, but he could feel how your eyes burned him, with a curiosity behind them that was so easy to read that he was surprised you were the black ops/spy Sam had told him.  

"It’s whatever, I would’ve done the same thing if I were you." Bucky answered after a few seconds.  

He turned to look through the window again, trying to keep his thoughts in order. You settled down next to him, the warmth of your skin reaching his own. Nothing could be heard other than your breathings, not even the cars outside or the sound of the busy city that hid you. And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt relaxed with someone he didn’t know from the past.  

"I’m James."  

He could’ve sworn he heard you smile before you gave him your name. 

Now  

"What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?"  

The music was still on, as were the blue and red lights that lighted up the darkness in the room. Bucky could feel the breeze of your breath on his face and the smell of expensive whisky and tobacco in every word you said. He wasn’t surprised, the man that you knocked out probably tried to impress you with them.  

But behind the traces of blood, alcohol, and gunpowder, he could smell your shampoo. The same peony smell mixed with lavander filled his nostrils, and it brought him back to the many nights you had spent together. Your fingers were drawing circles on the skin of his back, and his nose was buried in your hair.  

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the suffering he caused you with every passing second.  

"I told you to stay away from me," you muttered.  

Your hand pressed the edge of the blade on his skin, and you were sure if you kept going you were going to start drawing out blood, but you couldn’t care less. Bucky Barnes had always been an expert at instilling unwanted emotions in you, and it was difficult to keep those emotions at bay right now. 

You felt anger. You felt resentment. You felt pure, long-lasting hatred.  

"Maybe I should slit your throat right now, that’ll make you stay away from me permanently."  

Your words were intimidating, filled with the same promise you had made him that fateful night. This was his chance, his chance at the apology that had died out in his throat when you closed the door behind him. This was the chance he had chased in his dreams for almost a year.  

But he couldn’t say anything.  

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. He missed seeing your face other than in the few pictures he kept or in the memories that did no justice. Because even now, as you threatened to kill him, you were a dream come true, just like the first time he saw you. 

"Say something!"  

"You’re beautiful."  

Your grip faltered on the knife, your eyebrows slightly furrowing at his words.  

No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t come back out of nowhere, say some cheesy, basic compliment, and make the walls of hate you had built crumble. Even if he had only managed to knock down one brick, he didn't deserve it. You knew it, he knew it, and everyone else who knew what happened between you two knew it.  

Then why did your heart flutter at his words?  

"Hey," Sam said, breaking the silence, your head snapping in his direction."I know he’s an asshole, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill my partner."  

You look back at Bucky for a few seconds before giving up, throwing your knife to the floor. Sam leaned over, his hand extended to help Bucky get up.Your murderous eyes went from Bucky to Sams, your gaze softening at his friend.  

"I told you to only contact me in emergencies," you grumbled.  

A hiss left your lips when you touched your arm, one of the bullet wounds was still seeping blood. Bucky thought about telling you something, but this time he listened to the rational part of his brain that told him to shut the fuck up.  

"Believe me, if we had a choice, we wouldn’t have come," Sam said.  

Your eyes flickered between both men, not convinced about helping them. Well, on helping the blue eyed super soldier. A pathetic excuse for why you couldn’t help them died on your lips once you saw his blue eyes. Please, help us they begged.  

You didn’t owe him anything. You shouldn’t help him, but in the back of your head, Steve’s voice rang through. Good ol’ Steve Rogers and his everlasting moral lessons. That's what we have to do, he said. 

So you put aside your feelings because helping people mattered more than an idiot who broke your heart.  

"What do you want?" You sighed.  

"We’re looking into something... odd. A bunch of pregnant women missing, still in their early stages of pregnancy. Most of them show up dead after giving birth, but the babies are nowhere to be found."  

You shrug. "They take the kids, so?"  

It was cold, you were aware of it. But after the things you had seen, the things you had done, you were aware that people kidnapping woman for their babies wasn’t something out of the ordinary, let alone something that required Captain America to look into it. Things like that were always forgotten, pushed back into a slew of cases alongside more missing women. 

"They had traces of the super serum."  

Fuck.  

You laughed. A joyless, cynical type of laugh. Destiny, of course, had to be a jerk. 

"Well, you’re in luck. I think we’re tracking down the same people." Sam raised an eyebrow at you with a simple request for you to elaborate. "A girl showed up dead in México a couple of months ago, she’d been missing for almost a year. Autopsy showed she had a miscarriage before dying, the bleeding killed her. The remains had traces of the serum too."  

"Are you saying that—?" Sam couldn’t finish his sentence, the thought sending chills along his spine.  

"Yeah."  

The air is somber between the three of you. Sure, the flag smashers were a problem when they appeared, as you knew from all the news reports you'd seen.People with ten times the strength of a normal human being were dangerous, especially if they were associated with a terrorist organization. 

This was different, though. This was sinister.  

Groans coming from the top floor broke the eeriness that surrounded you, making you finally remember why you were here. You tore apart part of the black dress that was once pristine and wrapped it around your arm.  

"Look at this guy over there," you said, motioning behind you. "He has intel on this, he’s the one that gets the girls and delivers them."  

"Well, let’s take him in and—"  

You cut Sam off. "No. Look, you came looking for me because this is my specialty. I know how to handle guys like him, and I sure as hell know he won’t tell us shit if we take him to a precinct and threaten him with some jail time. He’s a big fish. A few phone calls and he’ll be out in no time." They knew you were right, but they didn’t like your arguments. "We do this my way, or you better pray you find them before I do."  

Sam looked hesitant. He knew what you were going to do to the man, and his good conscience chastised him for even thinking of letting you torture someone. But the rational part, the part that knew that in this case there wasn’t much of an option, knew that they needed you, and perhaps you also needed them.  

"Just, don’t kill him." Sam said before walking away.  

Compromise. You could do compromise.  

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes. 

After Sam slammed the door shut on his way out, you were reminded of the fact that you weren't alone. Bucky’s eyes were already looking at you, the same apologetic eyes you had seen before you kicked him in the chest.  

"Thanks for helping us." He spoke, thinking it was an appropriate way to break the ice, but it only managed to make you scoff.  

"Let’s make something clear, I’m not doing this for you." you spat. "I’m doing this because Sam needs my help and so we can save those innocent girls and stop any more from being taken. This doesn’t change anything between us, as soon as this is over, you go back to leaving me the fuck alone, got it?"  

Say something. Fight for her. Explain what happened, his mind begged him.  

But he couldn’t, because even if it had been almost a year since he last saw you, he was still the same coward who let you walk away without a fight.  

So he agreed.  

"Yeah."  

"Good. I’ll meet you outside." 

Then  

"Thanks for the coffee." Bucky said before taking a sip.  

Droplets of water fell from his forehead, a strand of unruly black hair was hanging on the side of his eyebrows. The towel that hung from his waist, showing his torso all the way down to that sculpted V of his abdomen, made it too difficult to concentrate on the files you were trying to organize.  

The man was hotter than the sun.  

"No problem." you smiled at him.   

You had no idea it would be the best and worst decision you'd ever made when you suggested Bucky stay with you while Steve went to rescue the others.You liked Bucky, and the few days you spent with him while Steve and the others gathered everything they needed so they could go find Zemo had been nice. Sure, he was a man of a few words, but it didn’t bother you. It was weirdly comforting to be able to enjoy someone’s company in silence. And the times he spoke, he did it out of pure curiosity, curiosity about the world, about what had happened while he was in the ice, but mostly about you.  

He asked about your cases, how you met Steve, and how you came to partner with some of the most powerful people in the world. He asked about your life, about your childhood in the orphanage, and what made you choose to help people. He asked so many questions, yet he still respected you when you didn’t want to answer some of them. He asked, not to pry, but to get to know you, and in return, when you asked him something, he was as honest as he felt comfortable being.  

And that was the problem. No matter how much you tried, you knew your days with Bucky Barnes were numbered. Ever since you were young, you knew that being in this line of work would prevent you from having a normal life. You couldn't have a normal relationship. You weren’t meant to have the love story your favorite movies portraited, the white picket fence and the family of five wasn’t in your future.  

Neither was he, maybe in the forties he would’ve came home from war and found himself a pretty girl to marry. But now, after everything he had seen and everything he had unwillingly done, he probably wouldn't want a relationship any time soon. Or maybe not at all.  

But after three weeks of being cramped up in the same little apartment, you were getting used to him. You had developed a little routine together that always ended up with a cup of coffee at the end of the day. Sometimes both of you would just sit in silence, taking in each other's company while you sipped on your cups. Other times, just like now, he would sit next to you as you watched whatever movie you had decided to put on.  

You had to cut this at the root before it became too hard to let go.  

"So, you’re going to Wakanda?"  

He sighs. "Yeah. Steve says they have someone that might be able to help with... help with my..."  

"I know." You finished for him, suddenly placing your hand on top of his. He tensed at your touch, both of you looking down at your hands before you took away yours, embarrassed at your own lack of control. "Well, if you’re not too busy there, I could go visit you sometimes."  

"You would?" he questioned.  

"If you want me, too," you shrugged, trying not to reveal your excitement. 

He looked at you, his thoughts unreadable through his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to reject your offer, but something changed in his eyes. He smiled, the faintest, littlest hint of a smile you had seen, but it was there.  

You made him smile for the first time.  

"Yeah. I’d like that."  

If someone were to ask Bucky when he first felt he could love you, it would be right now. With the dim light of the TV lighting up your face and a shy smile on your lips as you told him you were willing to travel such a long distance just to see him.  

And as you lay next to him, your head against his shoulder, you thought to yourself that maybe you could be selfish for once and allow yourself to enjoy his company a bit more. 

Now  

There were drops of water leaking out of a pipe, he could hear them from the other side of the room. Everything around him was dark, it seemed the only source of light was on top of him and the woman on the floor pleading for her life.   

"Please don’t do this," she begged with a Spanish accent. "I don’t want to die, please."   

He wanted to move, he wanted to throw away the gun in his hand, but it was like he was a spectator of his own life. His body was not his, or his breathing. Not even his heartbeat listened to the inner panic attack he was having. Nothing belonged to him.   

"Kill her," a distorted voice told him. His eyes glanced at him quickly, and he noticed the man had no face. No one around them had one.   

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. His finger moved, pressing the trigger of the gun, but he refused to give up. He had to try, even if his own consciousness was trying to kick him out, sucking him into the pool of darkness he had been resting in for a long time.   

But even if he tried for years, he couldn’t win. He was powerless.   

Broken.   

He could only witness how the other "him" obeyed. The woman's eyes changed from scared to lifeless in less than a second. A splash of crimson staining his combat boots kept his attention. He couldn’t hear what the other people in the room were saying, he didn’t exist anymore, or he didn’t want to. The sound of the water leak was deafening now. Growing louder and louder until it consumed everything around him   

He didn’t want to be awake. Not like this.   

And as he felt himself disappearing, he hoped this was the last time he came back to the surface. He would rather be surrounded by emptiness.   

Yet something interrupted him, pulling him back up.   

A woman's voice, so familiar it made his heartbeat change.   

"Bucky!"  

Bucky's eyes opened wide. His head was spinning, his breathing was rapid, and his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. The adrenaline in his system made him dizzy, and he could feel his hands shaking. And he was feeling. A lot. Scared, angry, hopeless. So many emotions constricted his chest, burying him under their weight.  

"Bucky," you repeated. His head snapped at you, showing you a pair of wide, terrified eyes.  

Your feet almost moved. A pure protective instinct filled you with dread at the fact that you couldn’t help him anymore. Your head and your heart were in conflict. In one hand your heart begged you to go to him, stroke his back as you peppered kisses along his shoulder. Then you would lie back in bed while your hands surrounded his body, your front pressed to his back in a way to say, I’m here, I love you, and everything will be alright.  

On the other hand, your brain told you to turn in the other direction. Walk away from the night terrors that plagued his mind and let him suffer in silence. He wasn't your responsibility anymore, and you shouldn't be concerned about helping him with whatever was wrong with him. 

Was it possible to hate and care about someone at the same time?  

"Nightmares?" you couldn’t help yourself from asking. 

His left hand rubbed his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips. "Yeah. Sorry if I woke you up."  

"You didn’t."  

You sat at the table in front of the couch he was lying on, a steaming cup of lavender tea between your hands. The cling of the spoon clashing against the ceramic filled the uncomfortable silence between you.  

"Where’s Sam?" he asked, sitting straight as a couple of droplets of sweat fell down his forehead.  

"He has a contact in the city. He left to meet them."  

"Oh."  

Whatever else he was about to say died on his lips. You noticed he seemed to do that often since meeting again, his eyes speaking the words he would never say. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you, the frown on his forehead deepening with the passing of time. It made you wonder if he would now be open to answering your questions.  

"He said you’re going to therapy."  

He was taken aback by your question. It probably was the first time you said more than the necessary to him. Also, it was the first time that you showed any sort of interest in his life.  

"Uh, yeah. Court mandated."  

You hummed, sipping on your tea.  

"Does it work?"  

You saw the hesitance in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched and his grip on the couch made his knuckles white made you think he was about to change the subject with a witty, bitter, or sarcastic remark, or maybe even just ignore the question at all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, by the end of your relationship, he was an expert in it.  

Bucky didn’t change much after all, you thought to yourself  

But he broke the silence.  

"In some ways." he started, his gaze dropping to the floor. "The nightmares don’t come as often anymore, and I don’t feel the need to shoot every asshole that drives a shitty car with a shitty exhaust pipe." You chuckled at his confession, making a slight smirk show on his face. "But she’s too much."  

"What do you mean?"  

He sighed. "She pisses me off. I hate that she keeps trying to make me feel better by just saying my life is better now and I shouldn’t feel like shit anymore. But it’s not that easy. Just like it’s not easy to follow the stupid set of rules she gave me."  

He looked up to see your reaction to his words, expecting to see the same hardened look you’ve given him the past couple of weeks. And it was just that what greeted his eyes, your lips slightly pressed together and your eyes decorated with a slight scowl that only showed up for him.  

But behind the tough exterior, he could see your eyes had softened. For a brief second, your eyes showed care and understanding to what he siad before going back to the usual void stare you gave him.  

"She sounds like a bad therapist." He shrugged in agreement, he couldn’t say anything against the truth. "She also sounds like a bitch."  

He laughed. The type of laugh that caught him off guard and made his lungs run out of air. Granted, your joke might’ve not been as funny as his laugh was giving it credit for, but he had always been fond of your bluntness.  

You couldn’t help but laugh with him too.  

Laughing with Bucky felt foreign yet so familiar at the same time. It felt like reminiscing on a memory you didn’t remember you had, a bittersweet memory that brought back the same good feeling of the memories you built together  

But moments like that couldn’t last forever. Your heart couldn’t afford to remember.  

A text message from Sam lit up your screen, saying his contact had useful information. You stood up from the table after texting him back and drank the rest of the cup's contents. 

"You should try to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead."  

His shoulders dropped slightly.  

"Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try to."  

With nothing left to say, you walked away, leaving Bucky in the loneliness of the night.   

You didn’t go right away to the room you had adopted as your own, though. He heard you going through the kitchen, a dim sound of clinking and pouring reaching him due to his enhanced hearing. He didn't think anything of it; maybe you needed more tea before going to bed. 

Your steps brought you back to him before you placed an object on the coffee table right beside him.  

A cup of lavender tea. 

Then  

"It’s kinda late to be outside, huh?"  

Bucky jolted at the sound of your voice, your presence taking him by surprise. He was completely sure that when he left a couple of hours ago his house was empty and you hadn’t sent a message of your arrival.   

Something had happened? Was someone injured? Were you in trouble?  

His questions died on his lips as you cut the space between you and him short, your arms tightly embracing him. Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, his long hair falling on your face. His hands took a second to respond, but they eventually wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest.  

You stayed like that for what felt like ages, just taking in each other's warmth. He missed you, even if he tried to deny it every time his thoughts would wander to you. He tried to convince himself that his reclusion made him miss everyone he considered a friend, and in a world where everyone seemed to want him dead, you were one of the few people he trusted.  

He had been staying in Wakanda for nearly six months, and out of those six months, you had visited him at least once every month. The duration of your trip would vary, sometimes you would stay only a few hours, with most of your time spent in his hut while sharing stories of the outside and his progress. Other times, you'd stay for days, with the longest stay being a week and a half. In those cases, he would show you the surroundings, the forest that surrounded the back of his hut or take you on a long walk alongside the river that crossed his home. Sometimes you'd sit outside and stare at the stars, your only company being the animals and the flora. 

He also came to hate every time you would leave, feeling like a part of himself was leaving with you.  

One of his hands landed on the side of your hips, the other searching for your face.Your grip on him grew tighter once his fingers brushed the skin on your face but you eventually let go, allowing his hand to guide you slightly away from him.  

"What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You didn’t respond, but one look into your eyes, and he knew the answer. Whatever it was, it had affected you to the core, the broken look in your eyes could only be compared to the one he saw every time he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  

His forehead rested on yours, both your eyes closing at the contact.  

"It’s ok. I got you."  

His hand found yours as he guided you toward his bed. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you still had your tactical gear on, dirt and crystals still hiding in some places. He grabbed the buckle of your vest, his eyes asking for permission to get it off. A slight nod gave him the confirmation, beginning the process of somewhat freeing you of the events you had seen. He got rid of his own garments too, leaving you both standing in front of yourselves with only underwear covering you. He dragged you into bed, your frames covered by the light white sheets on his bed. 

Not many times had he allowed himself to think of you in a sexual manner, knowing how his body would react in a lustful way. But as he found himself looking at you with barely any clothes on, the desire was left on the back burner of his brain. You needed him. You needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give it to you.  

He would give you anything you asked for.  

His hand rested on your face, tracing circles across your cheek, your eyes closed at the soothing action.  

"I’m sorry." Your voice trembled. He could see you wanted to say more, but words failed to come out of your mouth  

Bucky’s heart ached. He had never seen you in such a vulnerable state, and his mind was going cray at the thought of not being able to do anything to help you.  

"It’s ok, sunshine. You don’t have to talk about it."  

So you lay there, head against his chest, as he kept you between his arms, with nothing other than the sound of the crickets outside his hut surrounding you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt what being loved felt like.  

That night, you kissed him for the first time. You didn’t stop, not even the next morning when he woke you up with breakfast already made and a cup of lavender tea. 

 Now  

"Bring him to the table!" you yelled.  

Your hand swept across the surface, knocking over every piece of paper, pencil, and piece of equipment. The vibrations of the heavier objects on the concrete floors matched the beating of your heart.  

Bucky dropped Sam on the table. The man had gone unconscious on the ride to the safe house, the bullet wound that oozed liquid crimson was most likely the cause.The same crimson color now stains Bucky's clothes, and his leather gloves were also covered in a thin layer of it.  

You brought your knife to slash through his clothes, the sharp metal cutting through them as if they were butter. The hole on his shoulder seemed to have no exit, the bullet was still inside him. You were glad Sam wasn’t conscious for the next hour.  

The super soldier hovered over you for the entirety of the time you spent cleaning through the fragments that splintered from the bullet. Everything went relatively well until Sam started waking up, his body contorting in pain as you dug through his wound. Bucky brought him a bottle of vodka while you injected him with some local anesthesia.  

Hours later, the wounded man was now resting on the only bed the safehouse had, his breathing bringing great comfort as it meant he was still alive. After half a bottle of vodka and a some painkillers diluted on his IV, you were sure he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow.  

The faucet sprayed cold water onto your palms. Your nails desperately tried to scrape away the traces of blood that still lingered in your skin, leaving red marks all across your knuckles. Dirt and dried blood were trapped underneath your fingernails, and no matter how much you tried to dig it out, it would stay right there.  

Bucky’s footsteps brought you out of your trance, the heavy sound of his combat boots felt deafening with each step he took. You tried to tune him out, focusing once again on the sound of water, but it seemed as if Bucky had made it his purpose to be as loud as possible. You held onto the sink so strongly that you were sure it would snap.  

A deep rage came from your stomach, spreading all over your body. The anger constricted your chest in such a way that you weren’t sure if somehow you were buried under a collapsed building, its weight invisibly crushing you.  

It was his fault. It was all his fault.  

You didn’t remember walking outside the bathroom, nor did you remember walking up to him and slapping away the cup of water his hand held.  

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you barked at him.  

"I—"  

"I gave you one task. You had to wait until I gave you the signal so you could come in. Not guns blazing, not punching everyone that comes your way, not drawing everyone's attention to us. Your only fucking job was to wait for the distributor to show up and wait for my goddamn signal."  

"What did you want me to do? Just stand there and do nothing?" he argued.  

You were taken aback by his response. Part of you expected him to just let you scream at him and give you the same soft eyes he always gave you when you spoke to him.You weren't expecting him to snap back at you or to defend himself. 

Maybe if things hadn’t gone sour between you two, you would’ve listened to what he said, and in return, he would’ve listened to you. But the anger was too strong to be subdued.  

"I wanted you to follow the fucking plan."  

"He was about to torture you!"  

Bucky's thoughts returned to the old factory turned whorehouse.The way you had purposefully gotten caught and how they had tied you to an exposed pipe line. He could still hear the sound of the man’s hand smashing against your cheek.  

"I can handle myself! I told you guys to stay put until the distributor was there. He knows I’m after him, and this was our only chance to catch him. And now he’s god knows where and Sam got fucking shot."  

A heartbeat passed before Bucky came close to your face. His big frame towered over you, and his breathing hit your face.  

"You’re fucking delusional if you think I was just going to let anything happen to you."  

You scoffed, "Oh, so now you care?"  

"I’ve always cared."  

You pulled away from him, your eyes rolling at his pathetic words.  

"Sure."  

Perhaps it was the fact that you had been in danger no longer than a couple of hours ago, or maybe it was the heat of the fight that had left some residues on him. Whatever it was, it made Bucky courageous enough to reach for your arm.  

"Look at me."  

You swatted him away.  

"Don’t fucking touch me."  

But this time he wasn't going down without a fight.Not again.  

"I know I was an asshole at the end of our relationship, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you anymore."  

A bitter laugh came out of you. All of this had to be some sick joke. "When you care about someone, you don’t treat them like that. You didn’t care about me, and you sure as hell didn’t love me."  

His hand tried to touch you again, and this time you let him. You were tired. Tired of fighting with him. You closed your eyes as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, his touch consuming all of your senses.  

You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, the blue eyes that once hurt you shining the same way they did the first time you kissed him.  

"I did love you," he whispered into your lips. "I still do."  

His words burned you like someone had branded you with hot iron in the chest.Even after all this time, he could still hurt you, Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to bring back the past you so fiercely tried to leave behind?  

"Don’t." Your lower lip quivered. "Y-you can't just break my heart and then come back into my life and just say you still love me."  

"I never stopped loving you."  

Those five words were all it took to tear down what little control you had over yourself. A year ago it would've broken you to hear them but now they only brought a deep sense of indignation. 

With a quick move, you pulled his hand away from you, your hands pushing against his chest until he hit the wall. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to carve his heart out of his ribcage and throw it far away, maybe then he would understand what it felt like.  

"Where was your love when I needed it, huh? Where was your love when I had no one else? Where was your love when I reached for you every night but you were already gone? Where was your love when I begged you to love me, to be there for me?" Your hands were clutching his jacket, and your vision was blurred by tears."Where the fuck was your love when you brought that girl to your apartment?"  

Bucky never saw you like this, not even when he stomped on your heart with his indifference. Under the anger, the hate, and the surface indifference you showed him, he could see how broken you were. He could see how you were constantly struggling to put the pieces of yourself back together that he had torn apart. 

He hated himself for extinguishing parts of you. 

"I’m sorry."  

A lapse of judgment.  

That’s what you would tell anyone who asked you why you kissed Bucky that night. You would say that you had been blinded by the pure rage his mere presence would bring you. Or perhaps you would take the easy route and you would say that with everything that happened that night, almost being tortured and Sam getting hurt, you had acted in a primitive instict of searching comfort.  

The truth was different. You could lie to yourself and say that you didn’t needed Bucky, not after all the things he had done. You lied to yourself constantly when you told yourself you were over him. You also lied to yourself when you claimed that your one-night stands had fulfilled you in the same way that Bucky had. 

You couldn’t feel anything, not ever since you walked out of his apartment. You had tried different people, different cities. You had tried different alcohols and different drugs. You had tried anything that could help you fill the emptiness that had found a permanent home inside you. You felt nothing, not until you saw those cerulean eyes again.  

Your kiss was aggressive, your lips smashing against his with strength and your hands finding their place in the back of his head. It took a second for Bucky to kiss you back as he thought his mind was playing tricks with him. But after you pressed yourself against his chest, his body reacted on muscle memory alone, his arms surrounding your waist.  

It wasn’t what you expected, though. You thought that the specks of love that remained between you would be enough to bring back whatever it was that you were missing. Instead, you were met with the most intense hatred you've ever felt, mixed with the melancholy of what could've been. 

He tasted like the past, but he still hurt like the present.  

So you made a decision.If you couldn't bring yourself to love Bucky Barnes anymore, you would hate him with all that remained of your soul. You would hate him until both of you burned in the flames of your agony. You'd despise him until you'd ripped every part that matched the ones he'd so easily broken. 

"I hate you," you whispered between kisses. "I fucking hate you."  

Your words were daggers to his heart. His chest tightened, and his grip on you faltered for a second before he snapped out of it. This wasn’t about him. If you needed to tell him how much you despised him, he would gladly let you kill him with your words. It was the least you deserved.  

"I know," he mumbled against your lips.  

He felt your body guiding him through the room until the back of his legs hit against the couch where he would sleep. Your hands pushed against his chest, making him sit on the couch while you straddled his lap.  

Clothes flew across the room, and you found yourself tearing his shirt apart in two while he only pulled yours off.You'd worry about that later; right now, nothing was more important than feeling your skin against his. 

Your hands traveled over his chest, fingers grazing every part of his abdomen as you trailed down to his zipper. You palmed him over his jeans, his cock already hard, and you felt it twitch against the fabric with every touch you gave him. Groans left Bucky’s lips.  

"I hate you," you repeated as a mantra.  

He shouldn’t make you feel this way, but as you see his head going back when your hand opened his fly and found it’s place around his cock you felt your own desire pooling in your lower belly and the aching in your core became unbearable.  

With swift movements, Bucky got rid of his pants and his underwear while you remained on top of him. With your frame still covered by a black lace bra and your black tactical pants on, he couldn't help but feel exposed when he looked at you.Deciding he didn’t wanted to be the only one naked his hands went to the side of your hips in efforts to get you rid of the fabric but your hand swatted him away.  

Beg me, your eyes said.  

For a moment, he considered tearing your pants apart the same way you had done with his shirt. However, the seriousness behind your eyes warned him that he might end things too soon if his stubbornness got in the way. So he gave in.  

"Please, Sunshine." His hands gripped your waist, his hips grinding against your still-wrapped core, sending shivers down your spine."Please, let me see you."  

You relented, unbuttoning your pants and throwing them away with your panties. In what were the longest seconds of Bucky’s life, you unclasped your bra, finally getting rid of the last barrier your body held on to.  

You stood there, completely naked, staring at Bucky.He remembered the way your breasts felt when he held them. He remembered how soft your skin was. He remembered that if he bit on the skin of your neck, right where the jugular is, you would clench around him. He remembered. In the lonely nights when he needed some release, he would close his eyes and imagine your lips around his cock as he fisted himself in the solitude of his apartment. 

All those memories didn’t compare to watching you in the flesh, with hungry, hateful eyes on him as you walked back to straddle him again.  

His cock twitched once your legs fell to his sides, the heat of your body settling on his crotch. You sat on top of him, your wetness welcoming him once you lowered yourself. His length placed itself right between your lips, and a groan left him.  

"Fuck."  

Your hips began rocking in slow but sharp motions as he felt his cock coated with your slick. Slowly, you built up a rhythm that made both of you moan. His hands landed again on your hips, his fingers pressing on your skin in a way that was certain to leave bruises the next day. Your own hands gripped on Bucky’s biceps for stability, and you squeezed them every time you would feel him brushing against your clit.  

You felt amazing on top of him, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound against his chest.  

It was your eyes. Your eyes never left him, no matter how much pleasure you were pulling from both of you and how badly you wanted to roll your eyes as the coil inside of you tightened. Your eyes, which once showed him what love could look like, now looked at him with a simmering hatred he could not shake.  

His chest tightened at the thought of never seeing them again. The electricity that ran through his body was replaced by a deep sense of hopelessness, and the more he kept his gaze on you, the more it amplified. You must’ve sensed the change in him because your movements stopped.  

Broken eyes now stared at you with the ghost of tears in them. The anger that had driven your actions and your thoughts through all this had now subsided, allowing itself to mix with melancholy.   

I love you. I’m sorry. I miss you. His eyes said.  

I hate you. I’ll never forgive you. I wish I never met you. Yours answered.  

And in the middle of the lust that was taking place right on the couch, both of your hearts broke again.  

You pulled him back for a kiss that tasted of desperation and sorrow as tears fell from both your eyes. The saltiness of the tears bled into the kiss and mixed with it.Quickly, your hand guided his tip to your entrance. You needed him inside you like a person lost in the desert needs water. You craved him with every cell in your body, and it tore your heart apart.  

"So tight." He moaned in your mouth as you sank into him.  

The stretch of his length burned as you forced yourself to take him fully. It hurt, and even with your arousal completely covering him, you weren't prepared to take his thick length.You didn’t care though, you hoped it would make you forget your heartbreak. Bucky tried to stop you as he felt you struggling to take him in. His hands held your waist, but you shook your head before you started bouncing on him.  

You didn’t want love from him. You didn’t want tenderness or care. You wanted roughness. You wanted strength and aggressiveness until the only thing you could feel was the ache between your legs.  

The super soldier gave you what you wanted.  

Bucky’s pace was brutal, his cock hitting the sweet spot only he could reach. The sound of his hips colliding with yours filled the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the hallway outside.In the back of his mind, Bucky was thankful Sam was knocked out with meds so he could be spared from the obscene orchestra your bodies played.  

The pain quickly turned into pleasure. Your walls hugged him tightly, each thrust carried a strength that left you breathless. At some point your legs had given in, the only reason why you kept bouncing was the snap of his hips pushing you. He didn’t let go of you though, instead he pushed you against his chest in an embrace that surrounded you tightly.  

Your head rested against his while your hands stayed on his chest. The sadness that mixed with the pleasure numbed everything else except for the bubbling up of your release. It pained you to admit that no one else could make you feel like Bucky, you had tried to find someone who could replicate what his touch could do for you, but no one ever came close.  

You hated how much you missed him and how much you needed him.  

"I wish you would’ve stayed dead." you panted. The poison behind your words shredded his heart. He knew you were saying it to hurt him, he knew you didn’t mean it, but the conviction behind it felt like a kick in the chest. "I wish we never brought you back."  

"Me too." he finally admitted.  

Bucky felt your walls constrict around him, and he could tell you were close. He drew you in for one last kiss, the kind that took your breath away. The type of kiss that was a solace in a world of agony. The type of kiss that meant a promise that carried forever.  

You tightened around him as you came, and his thrusts slowed down as he rode you through your high. As you closed your eyes, more tears fell from the corners, so he reached out to wipe them away.Once you had recovered a little, his brutal pace came back, this time chasing his own release. You brought your lips to kiss his neck, feathery, soft kisses, and he felt his balls tightening. He was so close.  

He tried to pull out so he could fist himself to the end but you didn’t budge, instead whispering in his ear.  

"Inside."  

He came harder than he had done in the last year. You felt his cock twitching inside as he covered your walls with his cum, the mess between your release and his own dripping out of you. You kept bouncing on top of him, making sure to return the favor by guiding him all the way through the end.  

You stood up, the feeling of emptiness making you shudder when his cock left you, and his cum started leaking out of you. You turned to go find something to clean yourself up, but his metal hand stopped you. He guided you back to the couch before he walked towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back with a towel, and he positioned himself right between your legs.  

He cleaned you up just like he had done for so many years before.His other hand caressed your thigh as he made sure to wipe everything. And just as he always did for years, once he finished, he kissed your inner thigh, a couple of inches away from your pussy.  

Bucky threw the towel to the floor, he would worry about it in the morning.As for right now, the only thing he wanted was to hold you close. So he did. He thanked the couch was big enough to fit you both as you layed together. He pulled the blanket he used to warm himself every night over you, and his arm surrounded your waist, his grip making your back settle against his front. His left hand traced lazy circles over your stomach while the other was used as your pillow.  

For a few seconds, both of you allowed yourselves to reminisce in the past. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled against him like you usually did. And as you felt his warmth behind you and inhaled his scent, everything seemed to be alright once again.  

Except they weren’t. Bucky wasn’t the man who made you feel secure anymore, and you weren’t the woman who trusted him with all her heart. Both of them belonged to the past.  

"I don’t love you anymore. I will never love you again." you broke the silence.  

Bucky held you tighter as his heart broke once again.  

"I don’t deserve your love." He whispered. "But I’ll still love you forever." 

Then  

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy.   

It wasn’t all bad, though. For many years you had been together, three and a half to be exact, where you could imagine a life with. Three years where there was no one you trusted more or preferred to be with.Three years that were the happiest of your life.  

Those were a few of the reasons why he had asked you to marry him. And those were also a few of the reasons why you had said yes.  

You had told yourself at the beginning that you couldn’t get attached to him for the safety of your heart. It didn’t matter that his touch felt like home or that during the times you spent apart, his eyes would be the only comfort you would find in your dreams. He would bring more heartbreak than love.  

Oh, how right you had been.  

Unfortunately for you, the heartbreak would come in a way you couldn’t have prevented.  

The snap came and took him away from you. One second he was standing next to you, the next he was turning into dust that flew into the wind. The last thing he had said was your name and after that half the population was gone.  

The years went by in a blur. Between nights filled with drugs and alcohol and days spent cramped up in your apartment, you were wallowing in the type of sadness that the rest of the population could understand. You kept your ring in your finger, it reminding you that what your memories craved for were real.  

Bucky had been real.  

With his departure, he had also taken your heart. 

After a particularly bad night where you crashed your vehicle into a contention bar, Tony had taken it upon himself to help you, offering you a home close to his secluded one. You took it, not because you wanted to get better but because you wanted solitude. But if life had taught you anything about Tony Stark, it was that he was as stubborn as they come.  

Every morning he would bring you breakfast along with a visit from a certain little baby that always wanted to be held by you, and sometimes she would be able to bring a small smile to your face. With time, the little baby turned into a little girl that would ask for a sleepover every once in a while, and you would gladly accept the offer to allow Tony and Pepper a night alone.  

Things got better. You visited Steve and Natasha at the compound and even allowed yourself to go in missions of your own, as it turned out not even The Snap could make criminals take a break. You even went to one of Steve’s depressing support group meetings, never returning for the next one.  

You couldn’t be strong all the time, though. Some nights, when the pain was so strong that it drowned you and the grief was too powerful to keep at bay, you would find yourself staring at the hundreds of pictures you had taken of him. Most of them were of you together, but there were a few you took when he wasn’t looking. The sunset behind him as he breathed in the clean air of Wakanda, or the small smile on his face as he tasted the food he cooked for you both.Even when he was reading some of the books he kept under his bed and a few wrinkles would show on his forehead as his whole focus remained in the text, he always looked beautiful.  

With time, everything felt like a routine. Waking up alone, eating alone, going outside alone. Sleeping alone. Everything seemed to be stable, not good or bad, but just stable. You were sure this was the best you could do, or at least the best it could get.  

That is, until a ray of hope appeared. 

Time travel was the answer. Taken as a whole, it seemed like something out of a science fiction film, but it made sense.Bring the stones back and along with them everyone that had died. Surprisingly, it had worked, everyone that had been snapped away came back just as they had left. It should have been a moment of joy. It should've.  

The thing about hope is that it comes with a price. Natasha and Tony were the price to pay.  

Steve left shortly after.  

You understood him. You understood why he left everything and everyone behind to go live a life with the woman he had always loved. You would be a liar if you said you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position. You understood why he did it but it still hurt to know you weren’t enough of a reason to stay and live a life together.  

It seemed like you were on a streak of losing people. Wherever you turned, more people kept leaving your life. Wanda was gone, turned into the madness that grief could bring. Thor left to save other planets that needed him. Bruce... well, you weren’t sure where Bruce was, but he didn’t try to contact you.   

Everyone was gone but Sam and Bucky.  

Bucky. Your Bucky. The man you had spent the past five years crying for. The man who made you the happiest you'd ever felt.The man who felt like home.  

But he wasn't your Bucky any longer. 

This Bucky didn’t kiss you with the same tenderness he did so many years ago. Instead, he'd barely move his lips once yours touched his in what you'd call a mediocre peck.He also never initiated a kiss, it was you who always reached out for him.  

This Bucky didn’t held you at night. Instead, he'd turn around, his back to you, and even if you reached for him between dreams, he'd guide your hand back to your side of the bed.Some nights, he would even choose to sleep on the floor of the living room when he thought you were asleep. It was as if the thought of touching you seemed appalling to him.  

This Bucky never hugged you. 

This Bucky never talked to you with love  only with annoyance and indifference.  

This Bucky never woke you up with breakfast.  

This Bucky never tried to sleep with you.  

This Bucky never said I love you.  

Because this Bucky didn’t love you.  

But you held hope, foolishly. Every day you tried to talk to him, show him in every possible way that you were still here with him. Every day you tried to make things better between you, you poured your heart and soul to try to fix what you didn’t even know was broken.  

Things got worse a couple of months later.   

As it turned out, time had taken a toll on Steve’s body, and one night he went to bed and never woke up. You found it a bit ironic the man out of time had finally run out of time.  

His funeral was held on a sunny spring afternoon. People from all over the world showed up to say their final goodbyes to the man who had saved the world so many times. Friends, people he had saved, and heroes paid their respects to him. The first super soldier had finally been put to rest.  

After everyone had cleared out, you went back to drop one last token for his departure. It was a picture of the both of you. Steve’s arm hung over your shoulders while both of you held a couple of beers. It had been the first time you had seen Steve outside of work related situations. That was the beginning of your friendship.  

As you got back to his tombstone, you saw Bucky standing in front of it. His eyes were void of any expression, and he didn’t seem to be talking to Steve’s grave either. Bucky was just there, staring at the place where his best friend was buried.  

He didn’t seem to notice when you stood next to him, nothing in his body gave any signs of acknowledgement. You gave him a couple of minutes before you reached for his hand. You knew that, even if he didn’t show it, he was in great pain. He had lost his last connection to the life he had once lived.  

You wanted to be there to help him through his pain.  

The contact only lasted a few seconds. Your touch surprised him, as he had jolted once your skin grazed his own. He turned his head to the side to give you a glare that you’ve never seen before. His eyes had been filled with pain, as you guessed, but they also carried hatred and disdain. He must’ve seen your expression, because a second later his eyes changed to a neutral expression.  

"What are you doing here?" he muttered.  

The shock of his stare lingered in you for a moment, but you quickly returned to yourself, a friendly smile on your face."I came to leave a little parting gift."  

He hummed in acknowledgement, not sparing another glance at you as you put the photograph against the headstone, right in between the dozens of flowers that decorated it. Both of you stayed silent after that, the sounds of the birds and the faint rumbling of cars were the only sounds keeping you company. It was peaceful. It was good. Just the two of you enjoying a moment's calmness in silence. 

For a few moments, you felt comfortable next to him. The first time in months since he came back. But good moments like that never lasted long.  

Without notice, he turned around. Long, desperate strides guided him towards the exit of the graveyard. He wanted to create distance between you and him, find somewhere that was as far away from you as he could be. You felt how you were losing him.  

But you fought for him, even when he seemed to not deserve it.  

"Bucky." You called for him. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around, so you took that as a sign to keep going. "I know you’re hurting right now, I am too, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you."  

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, and you thought you had made a breakthrough. Maybe this was the time when things went uphill. This was the little push he needed to start healing and perhaps to try to rebuild the bridges that had burned. This was the little thread of hope you'd hung up on.  

You were wrong.  

"You have no idea how I feel," he said before leaving.  

That night you came back to your cabin, and Bucky’s things were gone. The only thing left was a note that rested in the middle of the bed.  

I found an apartment in the city. I need space.  

You didn’t see him for a couple of months after that. You considered tracking him down but ultimately gave up as he had asked for space. He needed time on his own, and you could give it to him. You would give him anything he asked for.  

You kept your word until Strange came to visit you, announcing news about Wanda. She was dead.  

You barely remembered tracking down his address or making your way there. It wasn’t until you were facing his door that you realized what you had done. He asked for space but in that moment, you couldn’t give it to him. You needed your Bucky.  

Knock, knock, knock.  

It was late in the night, and you could hear the TV going on in the living room. He had to be home. After a few minutes without an answer, you knocked again, but the only thing that welcomed you was silence.  

"Bucky," you called. Your voice was broken, you tried to fight the tears away, but saying his name broke what little self-control you had left. "Please open the door."  

You rested your forehead against the door, finally allowing yourself to feel everything you had been pushing back ever since the fight with Thanos. Pain, grief, loneliness, hatred, sadness, despair. A cocktail of emotions ran through you in an overwhelming way and seemed to want to drown you.  

"I know you’re in there." You cried. The tears that ran down your face landed on the floor. "I just— I know I said I could be strong for the both of us, but... I need you."  

You knocked on the door again, this time with the side of your fist. The desperate sound of your knocking bounced through the walls of the deserted hallway.  

"Please Bucky, please open the door. Wanda is dead." Your own cries stopped you from talking, the hole in your chest seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing second. "Nat, Tony, Steve, Wanda. All of them are dead, and I—I can’t. I can’t keep losing people. I can’t lose you."  

You couldn’t do this alone, not anymore. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.  

"I love you. God, I love you so much. I know you want space, but right now I need your love, Bucky. I need you to love me like you used to. Please love me." You begged.  

And you waited. You waited for what seemed like hours, but it probably was just thirty minutes until you accepted he wasn’t coming out.  

 You left with half a heart that night.  

Two weeks later, you came back to his apartment, ready to demand an explanation. Your love for him was strong, but you needed him to talk to you. You were ready to fight for your future. You were ready to fight for your love.  

"Bucky!" you yelled as you knocked aggressively. "Bucky, open the fucking door!"  

The door didn’t take long to open. It surprised you, your confidence and anger faltered for a second. This was a sign, perhaps it was him being ready to fight for you too. This was him showing you he still loved you.  

Except the person who opened the door wasn’t Bucky.  

It was a girl. A short brunette that was covered by Bucky’s black T-shirt and nothing more.  

"Hi."  

You wanted to scream. You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to burn the world and leave everything behind. You wanted to die. But the only thing you could do was stay there and stare at the girl.  

"Umm, Bucky is not here." She said awkwardly, your intense stared made her uncomfortable.  

"Do you know where he is?" You questioned her. The words came out rougher than you intended, but as the heartbreak and despair set in, you couldn't care less. 

"No. I, um, when I woke up he was already gone." She pulled the hem of the t-shirt down in an effort to convey her nervousness, but it only infuriated you more. "Are you a friend of his?"  

You wanted to laugh. God, this couldn’t be happening.  

"Yeah, of sorts."  

"I can let you in so we can wait for him, but I have to leave in like twenty minutes."  

"You can’t call him?" you asked, bitterly. You knew Bucky had gotten a new phone but he never gave you his number.  

Her face blushed before she answered. "No, uh. We met last night, and he didn’t give me his number.  

"Oh."  

You didn’t know what would be worse, if he had seen this girl ever since he left your cabin or the fact that he had a one night stand with a random girl. It didn’t matter, though, Bucky Barnes had crushed your heart.  

The girl, whose name was Clara, kept her word, leaving minutes later as she had to go to work. She seemed like a nice girl who had no idea the man she had slept with was engaged. And perhaps in another world you would’ve been nicer to her if your heart hadn’t collapsed in on itself when she opened the door. Maybe she was a little naïve, as she let you stay inside the apartment so you could wait on Bucky. She had also asked you to give him her number, the digits scribbled on a piece of paper.  

You broke down the moment she closed the door behind her. You thought of trashing the place, breaking every piece of furniture he owned, and burning all his clothes in a pit in the middle of his living room. You imagined yourself hurling the stupid leather jacket he seemed to be fond of lately.You also thought about settling for burning everything to the crisp, wanting to see the look on his eyes once he saw his apartment consumed by flames.  

You didn’t do any of those things, though; instead, you waited. This time, hours actually went by, the once bright morning turned into the darkness of the night, and you never moved from your spot on the couch, not even to turn on the lights.  

Bucky came back to his apartment around 11 p.m. When he noticed the apartments' lack of lightning, he felt relieved not to have to deal with the girl he had taken home the night before. By the looks of it, she left a while ago.  

He turned on the light before taking of his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger next to the door.As he walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, he tossed his keys on the counter.He had to change the sheets on his bed and do laundry tomorrow. The glass was half full when a voice behind him spoke.  

"You have a nice place here."  

The glass dropped from his hands into the kitchen sink. His head snapped quickly towards you, finding you seated in the middle of his couch. He turned off the sink, before making his way toward you. You couldn’t be here, not today of all days.  

"How the hell did you get in here?" he barked.  

He didn’t mean it like that, not in the way it sounded. He wasn’t angry at you being inside his apartment, he was scared. Scared that you had arrived at the wrong time and seen something you weren’t meant to see.  

He finally stood in front of you and saw it. Your nose was slightly puffy and red, like you had been crying for some time. Your shoulders were slumped, defeat washing over your posture. But the thing that hurt the most to see was the pain behind your eyes. It wasn’t the normal type of pain of loss or grief as you had experienced these past months. No, it was something else.  

It was the pain of heartbreak and betrayal.  

It couldn’t be.  

You couldn't have been here when she was still in his house. There was no way, life could not hate him this way. It had to be something else that broke your heart, he had hurt you many times this past couple of months, and today was probably the day it all crashed down. It had to be that.  

"Clara let me in."  

No.  

"Nice girl, she left her number for you."  

You knew, you had seen the girl who was apparently named Clara, he didn’t really remember it. Bucky knew he had to do something, anything that could save your relationship. Perhaps if he begged you not to leave him, to let him explain everything that had been going on with him, and if he spent the rest of his days making it up to you, then you would stay. Maybe you could forgive him.  

He didn’t do any of that, though. The same thoughtless attitude washed over him like it had done ever since he came back. It was as if his brain forced him to act this way in order to protect his own heart in the long run. 

Instead of doing everything he could to fix this, he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.  

"How long?" you asked. Bucky could see your eyes watering as you tried to keep yourself together. He hated himself. "How long have you been cheating on me?"  

His mouth answered without his permission.  

"Does it even matter?"  

Maybe he was right. Maybe it the answer wouldn’t change the way you were feeling; if anything, it was bound to hurt you more. But a part of you wanted to know the truth, to extinguish the other half of your heart.  

You didn’t budge, so Bucky finally answered, not before rolling his eyes. "She’s the only one. I met her yesterday in a bar. "He shrugged. "It just happened."  

You knew the answer, yet it still hit you with the force of a thousand bricks. He admitted it. He fucking admitted it and he didn’t even show a single morsel of remorse. There weren't any apologies or begs, no promises, or big romantic and sorrowful speeches. You could feel your own love being smothered, the flames that had once brought so much warmth to your soul were replaced by cold and emptiness.  

Bucky Barnes didn’t love you anymore. 

Now  

Bruises covered your body as well as new injuries that would probably give you more scars. Dirt and blood slid down the drain, exhaustion settling in as your muscles relaxed. The droplets of water fell against your body, washing away everything that had happened today.  

You found the intel, you knew every single name of everyone involved with the heinous experiments you were chasing.  

You had almost died, one of the guys Bucky and you had cornered, had a bomb attached to his chest. You tried to stop him, your gun pointing at his head, but you were too slow. The explosion shook the entire structure, causing a chain collapse of the floors around you. 

Bucky had jumped to protect you, his body acting as a human shield, deflecting some of the impact.His flesh arm had a large metal piece embedded in it, as well as some burns on his back. The explosion had knocked you both out of the air, and the resulting wave had thrown you both across the room. 

As you tried to shake away the confusion and the ringing from your ears, you felt his hand find its place along your face and travel to your stomach. As he scanned you, blue eyes looked at you with fogginess but also deep concern. 

"You ok?" he had whispered.  

You nodded, but your mind was still fuzzy, perhaps you had hit your head, but you couldn’t remember much.  

But you remembered the desperation. You remembered everything crumbling apart as you tried to make your way to the exit. You remembered Sam’s voice screaming through your earpieces to get the fuck out of there. You remembered Bucky's hand always keeping you safe, guiding you through the clouds of cement and smoke.  

You also remembered how Bucky’s steps faltered before collapsing. Neither of you had noticed he had a second piece of metal scrap buried between his ribs. If he had removed it, his enhanced healing would have taken care of it, but the extenuating movements had caused damage to his lungs, bleeding, and a lack of oxygen, causing him to pass out. 

You remembered screaming for Sam’s help, begging him to help you save Bucky. You remembered the tears falling from your eyes as you tried to pull Bucky to safety, begging him not to die, begging him to wake up. You remembered the fire catching up to you, it’s warmth burning your skin. You wanted to kill Bucky, you would be happy if you never seen his face again, dance on top of his grave as you celebrated the end of his existance.  

Then why were you fighting so hard to save him?  

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. You can’t do this to me!"  

"Bucky wake the fuck up!"  

"Please! I can’t lose you like this!"  

Fortunately, Sam came for you, him and all his Captain America glory had saved both of you, his wings protecting all three of you as you carried Bucky outside. You had barely gone a few steps ahead when the building finally set one last explosion, ending with everything on it's way.All three of you landed on the floor with a thud as the shock wave reached you.  

You focused your attention on Bucky's wound, which was already healing, but his lack of response worried you.His breathing was barely existent, and his heartbeat was decreasing. You had straddled his lap and began performing CPR on him while asking Sam to go fetch the adrenaline shot you stored in the vehicle. You had punctured Bucky's chest with it, and after a few seconds, he had woken up.  

You remembered clinging to him as he tried to sit straight, the desperation finally gone from your body.  

The body behind you wrapped his hands along your waist, pulling you out of your memories and spreading the soap he had covered you with. Bucky's fingers traced all the way down your body, removing every trace of stress. 

After everything happened, Sam told you to go back to the safehouse while he met with Joaquin to try and start locating people with the intel you had gathered. You thought about fighting him, but one look at Bucky and any fight you had left was done.  

A knowing look from Sam told you this wasn’t just to let both of you rest and get cleaned up. It was a second chance.  A second chance at the talk you had avoided to had with Bucky ever since that night you slept together.  

You drove back to the safehouse, and once you had gotten inside, everything crumbled apart inside of you. As you reached out to Bucky, your tears had fallen, your hand lingering in his fleshy arm, right where his wound was.His hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the stream of blood that fell from your eyebrow. In the silence of the room, no words were exchanged, but both your hearts understood.  

Just for today, you would allow yourselves to comfort each other.  

His lips peppered kisses along your shoulder as he cleaned you, his lips sometimes finding your neck or your lips when you would press yourself against him. As you spread the shampoo over his head, your fingers massaged his scalp with the tenderness he had missed, his eyes closing every time you hit the right spot. 

After drying yourselves and changing into new clothes, you both layed on the bed, covered over the head with the thin white sheet you had. You faced each other, blue eyes meeting yours. Your fingers found his face as you traced along every crevice and line you hadn’t seen before. Bucky appeared to have aged years in the time you hadn't seen him, but he remained as beautiful as ever. 

Your heart ached in your chest, and you couldn’t fight it anymore. You had denied yourself the other feelings that remained inside of you other than hate and betrayal, but today, as death seemed to call for both of you, it was clear you didn’t want Bucky Barnes to die. A part of you hated him so deeply you weren’t sure you would be able to stop, but no matter how strong the hatred was, you were sure a part of you still loved him.  

However, that part of you was broken. Battered and bruised to death by his own doing but it was still there. It was locked inside the thousand-foot wall you had built around it to keep it safe. Refusing to ask questions, refusing to talk to him, and refusing to admit the pain you were in. But in doing so you hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to heal. To move on.  

So you allowed yourself to feel and to talk. For both your sake and his. 

"Why did you do it?" you broke the silence. His breathing faltered as your hand retracted back to your side. "Why did you hurt me like that?"  

Bucky struggled to find the right words. You were asking him the same question he had asked himself for many, many nights. He asked himself that question when he wouldn’t reach for you at night. He asked himself that question when he didn’t open the door for you.  

He asked himself that question when you walked out of his life.  

You deserved the truth. The whole, unapologetic, heartfelt truth. So he gave it to you.  

"The first time I came back to myself, after fighting Steve in the helicarrier, I realized the world had moved on without me. My plans, my family, and the people I knew were all left in the past. They all moved on without me, everyone was gone except for Steve. I had a plan, after the war I would go back and find myself a beautiful girl to marry." A sad smile posed on his lips as he reminisced. "I wanted the white picket fence and three kids package. Cookouts with my family and friends while I was still a war hero. But all of that was gone the moment I woke up in a time that wasn’t mine. My dreams were gone."  

He paused before reaching for your face, his eyes closing before opening again, tears streaming down his cheeks."Ever since I woke up, I was a man drifting in a time that wasn’t mine, in a life that wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any dreams, or aspirations other than to survive and perhaps discover the truth. Nothing made sense to me, not until I met you." His thumb wiped away the tears you didn’t know they were falling. "You were the very first person, aside from Steve, that was kind to me. You talked to me, listened to what I had to say. You showed me what this new world was about, how to survive in it, and above all, you never doubted my innocence. It wasn’t because you knew me like Steve did, or because he had asked you as a favor. You were my friend, the very first I made when I was lost. And along the way, you turned into more, you were my new dream. I fell in love with you, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to be here, or what it could’ve been because with you, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere."  

A sob escaped you, his words burning your heart, branding them with the love you once felt for him. The heartbreak and the pain came once again, but it felt different. It was comforting in a way that scared you, terrified you. You knew he had loved you once, but you had stored those memories far away where they couldn’t hurt you. Because it was easier to tell yourself that Bucky had never actually loved you than to think he had loved you and had still betrayed you.  

"But no matter how much time passed or how loved or comfortable I felt, I was still scared. I was terrified. Terrified of the same thing happening again. Every day, I'd tell myself, 'Something is going to happen, something is going to take me away from you, and when I come back, another hundred years will have passed.' And it did happen. When Thanos snapped me away, I came back, and to me only seconds had passed, but for you it was five years. Everything had changed again, even you. There was this sadness that seemed to have nested behind your eyes every time you looked at me. And every time I looked at you, I could see how much you had suffered because of me, it was my fault, and I couldn’t do anything about it."  

"It wasn’t your fault." You tried to argue, but his words interrupted you.  

"I felt like it was. I felt like I must’ve had some sort of curse that would always take me away from what made me the happiest, and in return, I would hurt everyone around me with it. I had died once again and the world kept going, once again. And I tried really hard to fight those thoughts, but it was as if a cloud of darkness would whisper to me that I didn't belong here anymore.That everything had changed once again, and it would happen again and again and again until I finally died. And I didn't know what to do; it was as if this voice was drowning me, washing away every ounce of happiness I had left inside me until all that remained was anger and resentment." 

His voice had broken, as had his ability to hold back the tears.He had buried this for so long, too embarrassed to say them aloud, to admit how he had messed up everything because he was afraid.He wasn’t the man who had sworn to protect you against everything, he was a coward. A coward who had let his own fear hurt you in ways he could never fix.  

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Bucky kissed your forehead. "You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you, and I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for doing that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I pushed you away when all you did was trying to help me. I’m sorry I slept with someone else. I'm sorry I messed everything up because the truth is, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, past and present, and if I had to go through all of the pain, torture, and heartbreak all over again just to meet you, I would." 

You stayed there in silence for minutes. Neither of you dared say anything else that would break the silence. Both your hearts had been through a lot today, from the threats of death to the realizations of love and pain that had been confessed. But amongst the suffering and the torment, both of your hearts began to heal, and the pieces that had been ripped apart came back to where they belonged.  

You took his hands into yours, your lips kissing his knuckles. "I don’t know if I could ever forgive you for what you did." Bucky’s eyes closed in ache, he knew it was a possibility, but it still hurt to know there was no hope, but your words stopped him from spiraling. "But I would like to try."  

Hope. A tiny silver of hope. 

"Do you think there is a chance for us in the future?"  

You considered it. Your mind and your heart still pulling towards different directions but none of them letting you decide. Would you be willing to risk your heart once again for Bucky Barnes, or has the damage been too great to be fixed and covered? "I don’t know."  

"That’s ok. I'm not going to ask about it again unless you want me to." 

He kissed you one last time. His lips still had a subtle taste of smoke and burned, but above it was something overpowering, something both of you felt as he deepened the kiss. You both tasted redemption and forgiveness. 

Forever 

"Thanks for helping me."  

"Don’t thank me, I’m only doing it for the beer."  

Bucky and you chuckled at his poor attempt at a joke, your footsteps echoing in the half-empty apartment. A couple of seconds later, your mattress landed with a loud thud in your bedroom, making you happy to be finally done. You threw yourself on the bed, Bucky following you close behind, his heaviness bouncing you off. You turned to your side, resting your head on your hand, and he replicated your pose.  

It had been a year and a half since you decided to bring Bucky back into your life, and things had changed dramatically since then.You stopped doing solo missions and moved to New York, where you split your time between assisting Sam and Bucky with their shenanigans and volunteering at the woman's shelter Sam had connected you with. 

In the beginning, it was difficult to adapt to a tamer lifestyle than the one you had lived in the past year, but listening to all those women, the things they had been through, showed you that sometimes the thing people need to start healing is to have someone along the way.  

Bucky and you had become friends, just as you had been when you first met. It took time to get back to the beginning, but soon you found out how much you needed him as a friend, not a lover or a soulmate but just someone with whom you could talk. And, over the course of the many nights you spent talking, forgiveness found its way into your heart.You didn’t forget the past between both of you, but along the way there was understanding and care.  

"How was your date?"  

You shrug. "It was ok, not that great to be honest." 

During this time you had gone on a couple of dates, even went out with a guy for a couple of months, and since you and Bucky were ‘just friends’ you thought it would be uncomfortable to talk to him about them. But he had developed a habit of surprising you, and as it turned out, he was okay with it. When you asked why he was okay with it, his response surprised you. 

"I love you, I’ll always love you. But if you need me as a friend and nothing more, then I’ll be your friend."  

Your heart was still reluctant about him, after all, pain is a thing you can hardly forget. That had been the reason why you had tried to find someone else. Someone who could make you laugh as hard as he did, someone who could make you blush with just a cocky smile, someone who could calm you down and make everything better by simply holding you close at night.Someone who could make you happy. But all of them failed, because they weren’t Bucky Barnes.  

No one ever compared to Bucky Barnes, because after all the lies, heartbreak, and death surrounding you, he was still the only person who felt like home.  

Blue eyes stared at you and all you could feel was your heart racing. He was the man you had once loved and he had betrayed you, but time had mended your heart. The part of you that hated him was gone, and instead the love you felt for him came back, maybe not as strong as it once was but it didn’t matter. Your love was willing to build itself up, your love was willing to let him in one last time.  

"Ask me" you uttered. Your voice was so quiet that you thought he wouldn't hear you, but his puzzled expression told you otherwise. 

"What?"  

Your hand grabbed his, your thumb was drawing circles on his skin.  

"Bucky, ask me."  

Bucky’s heart stopped. A part of him had always told him that you would never want him back, and he couldn't blame you. He had hurt you in so many ways that he could never forgive himself. He had been sure the best he could have from you was friendship, and he had made his peace with it. Having you as only a friend was better than not having you at all.  

But you were giving him an opportunity, and he would be damned if he didn’t take it.  

"Would you—" he paused, clearing his throat.The nervousness inside him erased his ability to speak. "Would you like to go out for dinner? As in a date?"  

You made it seem as if you were thinking about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He knew your answer already.  

"Yeah, I guess I can make time for one date."  

You smiled. You gave him your biggest, most genuine smile in a long time.He smiled too.  

Loving Bucky Barnes hadn’t been easy. But as you both lay in your beds, his hands caressing your face and new hope brewing between you, your heart told you that this time would be different. 

He wasn't the same tormented man from another time you'd fallen in love with, and you weren't the same broken but hopeful girl he'd loved with all his heart.You both had hurt each other, but you had also grown, both of you in your own ways, and yet destiny had brought you back together.  

This time, neither of you was scared. 

This time, loving him would come as easily as breathing.

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[beansprean]

Waiting on Mr. Right

My Exchangeapalooza gift for @jay-auris !! See it HERE on A03 and check out all the other fabulous entries HERE!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID page 1: 1. Interior of a bar, romantically lit, and covered in heart balloons, heart and cupid decorations, heart shaped light strings, and various small round tables with two chairs each. The tables are occupied with male/female couples in mid conversation. A waitress dressed in black jeans, black button up, and a white apron around her waist walks through with a tray. In the foreground is the corner of the bar counter, which has a small sign advertising 'Valentine's Day Speed Dating' On February 13 between 7pm and 10pm. A little cupid cartoon is pictured on the sign saying 'Every time a bell rings, ladies move on to your next date!' At the bottom, it says 'Find your Valentine! (before it's too late)'. 2a. Close up of Nandor on a salmon background lighter at the top and darker at the bottom, dressed up in his finest red and gold fur trimmed coat, sitting at one of the small tables, hands folded in front of him. He stares expectantly forward and says, 'I am glad to hear your parents are dead; I never liked any of my previous 37 wives' parents. 2b. Reverse shot of a middle aged black woman in a red turtleneck sitting across from him, arms crossed with an uncomfortable expression as she stares back at him with no response. 2c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 3a. Close up of Nandor, leaning over the table with his fingers pressed together, presenting his date with a lascivious smile. He says, 'How many times a day do you expect cunnilingus?' 3b. Reverse shot of a white middle aged redhead across from him, dressed in a mauve v neck sweater and nervously avoiding eye contact while gulping a glass of white wine. 3c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 4a. Close up of Nandor, smiling sweetly with his hands folded in his lap as he says 'Without a word spoken between us, I find myself falling deeply in love. Do you feel this also?' 4b. Reverse shot of a middle aged southeastern Asian woman with a bob and large glasses. She still has her coat in her arms and hasn't even slipped her bag off her shoulder, and there is an untouched menu in front of her. With an expression of vague disgust, she replies'...No.' 4c. Reverse shot as the woman gets up to leave, Nandor planting his fists on the table and calling out 'Hey, the bell has not rung yet!' 5. Close up of Nandor as he crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, mumbling angrily to himself 'Clearly she has no idea how dating works.' A waiter reaches into frame to grab the abandoned menu and snorts in response. 6. Zoom out as Nandor jerks his head around to whine, affronted, at the waiter, 'Ayy, what, waiter-man? Where is the joke?' The waiter, who appears to be Guillermo wearing a black button down, black pants and a white apron around his waist, holds the menu up with both hands to shield his face, replying 'Sorry, sorry! Nothing!' /end page 1

ID page 2: 1. As Guillermo hides behind the menu, Nandor holds his hand up in a useless hypnosis gesture and barks 'I am Nandor the Relentless and I command you to tell me!' 2. Close up of Guillermo as he peeks cautiously over the top of the menu. Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'You are seeing so many people here have success...' 3. Close up of Nandor looking pleadingly upward as he says 'What am I doing wrong?' 4. Guillermo fully lowers the menu with a cautious smile, replying 'I mean...I guess you come on a little strong?' 5. Wide shot of them both. Nandor makes an affronted expression and curls one arm up to show off his bicep, gesturing to it with his other hand. He says, 'I am strong! I am very strong! Do modern women no longer admire strength?' Guillermo, holding the menu under one arm, holds up both hands in a soothing gesture and responds frantically 'Nonono, for sure! I just meant that you're acting really intense right off the bat!' 6. Close up on Nandor with a thoughtful hand on his chin as Guillermo continues offscreen: 'Talking love and marriage...it's too soon for a first date.' Nandor: 'Ahh... This is more third date talk?' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking exasperated but resigned as he reluctantly agrees: '...Sure.' 7. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor asks offscreen: 'So what is first date talk?' Guillermo replies, counting off on his fingers, 'Well, it depends on the person, but generally... Get-to-know-you questions? Like where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have, that kind of stuff.' 8. Close up on Nandor as he turns his face away to glare into the middle distance, a sudden shadow melting half his face into darkness as he says 'I grew up in the faraway kingdom of Al Qolnidar, which no longer exists, and I had seven siblings, all of whom are now dead.' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking shocked and cornered, unsure how to respond to all that. 9. Wide shot from Nandor's other side as he raises his eyebrows guilelessly and gestures to Guillermo with a hand, prompting, 'And then you answer?' Guillermo jolts in place, surprised to be placed in the date's role, and replies 'Oh, yeah, uh. Your date would answer, too. Um. I grew up here in the Bronx and I'm an only child.' 10. Repeat. Nandor and Guillermo both stare expectantly at the other. 11. Repeat. Nandor drops his gaze with a frown, eyes hooding, and grunts 'Hm. This is very boring, waiter-man.' Guillermo, flustered and irritated, throws his arms out in a helpless gesture and snaps 'Well, you have to actually engage in the conversation! Ask follow-up questions! And it's Guillermo!' Nandor says, uninterested, 'What is.' /end page 2

ID page 3: 1a. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly pink background as he points a finger sternly and states 'My name! It's Guillermo.' 1b. Reverse shot of Nandor looking up at him, almost dazed, cheeks flushed a bit purple as he echoes 'Guillermo...' 1c. Reverse shot of Guillermo as he withdraws his hand to curl it protectively against his chest. He looks a bit taken aback by the reaction, cheeks gone a ruddy pink. 2. Wide shot of them both on a red-violet background crisscrossed with multicolored lights. Guillermo looks away from Nandor nervously, blushing and sweaty, patting his free hand anxiously on the menu held under his arm. He stutters out, 'I, uh. Anyway, I gotta-' Nandor, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at Guillermo with a besotted expression, interrupts, saying 'You are very wise in the ways of dating, Guillermo.' He puts extra emphasis on the name. 3. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor continues: 'You have been on many dates?' Guillermo fidgets, still looking away, and mumbles back 'Not, not like a lot, no. Not like a large amount. Like a normal amount, probably.' 4. Wide shot as Nandor lifts his head and leans closer with a small smile, asking 'And how do your suitors woo you? If they are asking you on a second date?' Guillermo is startled into making eye contact and goes red, clutching the menu to his chest with both hands as he sweats nervously. 5. Repeat. Nandor leans even closer, smile widening into something more flirtatious as Guillermo stiffens and looks away again, somehow getting even redder as his shaky mouth pulls into an uncertain grin. Guillermo stutters out, 'I mean...assuming the first date went well...um...' 6. Close up on Guillermo, smiling nervously even as he avoids eye contact. He says, 'I guess he might...get me flowers?' 7. Close up on Nandor on a bubbly peach background from Guillermo's POV, looking up patiently as he listens. Guillermo continues offscreen: 'He'd...tell me how much he enjoys my company, or...pay me a genuine compliment.' 8. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly peach background from Nandor's POV, his smile softened and eyes far away as he continues: 'And...whisk me off somewhere fun. Somewhere new. Somewhere we could...stumble in to an adventure together. Away from everything else. And we'd stay up all night because we just...didn't want it to end.' /end page 3

ID page 4: 1. Close up on Guillermo's hand, crossed over his opposite arm, as Nandor nudges his fingers underneath to free his grip. Nandor starts softly, 'And...' 2. Wide shot on a bubbly pink background. Nandor has taken Guillermo's hand and is holding it like a knight would a lady, gazing down at it softly as if readying to kiss it. He continues, '...how many of your suitors have done this for you?' Guillermo, dazed, gazes down at their hands and replies '...I... I don't think anyone would...' 3. The plain green background wall slams back into view as a bell rings offscreen. Wide-eyed and red-faced, Guillermo snatches his hand away from Nandor and flings it upward as if tossing the moment over his shoulder. Nandor is left frozen, hand in the air, eyes wide in shock. 4. Repeat. Guillermo begins to back away from the table, tossed arm coming around to rub at the back of his neck. He looks up and away, sweating , red, and awkward as he chokes out a loud forced laugh and says 'Well, that definitely counts as coming on too strong. Terrible advice, don't do that.' Nandor leans after him, hand hovering in midair, squeaking out 'A-' 5. Repeat. Without letting Nandor finish, Guillermo disappears out of frame with a hasty 'Ok bye good luck!', leaving Nandor saying nothing but question marks, hand still frozen in the air as if reaching out after him. In the foreground, a woman with long brown hair and a dark pink sweater steps into view to take the seat in front of Nandor. 6. Slight zoom, the background returning to the light and dark salmon as Nandor settles back into his seat. The woman across from him, out of focus in shadow, says 'Hi, I'm Kjersten! Um...that's a really interesting outfit...' Nandor doesn't appear to be listening and is staring after Guillermo thoughtfully, a Mona Lisa curl to his lips. /end page 4

ID page 5: 1. Low angle of an alleyway, fenced at the rear and surrounded by tall buildings in multiple vague colors with some spray painted areas. Snow is piled up on either side of the center path against the sidewalk. In the foreground, there is a dumpster. A pink text box at the top reads February 14, 12:07 am. Halfway down the alley, a door opens and Guillermo steps halfway out, missing his apron but having added a coat, carrying a full garbage bag. A voice from inside calls, 'Guillermo, you can head out when you're done, okay?' Guillermo's breath steams into the air as he turns back to the door to respond: 'You sure? The dishes are-' The voice interrupts him with 'Sí, es El Día Dr Amor y Amistad! (In English: Yes, it's Valentines Day) Go sow your oats! You're too young to be working so much.' Guillermo replies without enthusiasm, 'Ha...yeah. Thanks, Teresa, have a good night.' 2. View from behind as Guillermo pulls the lid of the dumpster up with one hand and throws the bag in with the other. He sighs and mutters to himself, 'My oats are just gonna go home and watch Buffy...' 3. There is a clatter in the alley behind him and Guillermo spins around to face the viewer, startled and tense. 4. Extreme close up on Guillermo jerking back in shock as a wad of dandelions are suddenly thrust into his face. A voice offscreen calls 'Guillermo!' happily. 4. Zoom out as Nandor, now with a black and gold cloak dusted with snow over his finery, kneels down in front of Guillermo, arm outstretched to keep the dandelions pushing at his chin. Guillermo, pink and flustered and very confused, takes a step back and splutters 'Nandor?! The- the relentless?' Nandor ignores his reaction and announces, 'Here are some flowers!' 5a. Close up on Nandor as he looks up at Guillermo, dandelions thrust into the foreground and his hair and shoulders dotted with snow as if he had been waiting for some time. He proceeds, clearly rehearsed, 'I very much enjoyed your company tonight as well as the sight of your charming boyish face and plump behind!' His voice is demanding but his expression, eyes shining upwards and cheeks flushed purple, betrays his nerves despite the confident set to his brow. 5b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, staring down at him slack-jawed with wide shiny eyes and pink cheeks, the dandelions still hovering up by his face. Offscreen, Nandor asks 'Have you ever been to Staten Island?' Guillermo responds 'No...' on autopilot. Nandor concludes, 'Then that is where I will be whisking you for our date!' 6. Full body shot, the alleyway back in focus and showing an empty snow-lined street on the other side, a single window just above Guillermo's head lit up from within. Nandor finally stands up and rubs at his chin with a worried expression, dandelions clutched in the other. He says, 'I've heard tales of an all-night bowling alley, but my housemates never want to go with me.' Meanwhile Guillermo, frozen beside him with his hands hovering in mid-air, lets his brain catch up with what's happening. He stares into the middle distance as equations float around his head and his breath fogs into the air. Above, it begins to gently snow. 7. Close up of Guillermo, knocked out of his trace by a gentle prompting from Nandor offscreen: 'So...?' An EKG line skips a beat in the background as he startles and looks up, eyes shining and lips pressed together in a frown. 8. Reverse shot of Nandor, looking very nervous now as he stares back hopefully, holding out the bouquet of dirty dandelions one more time. /end page 5

ID page 6: 1. Close up of Guillermo on a bubbly pink background. He smiles genuinely, red-cheeked, and reaches out to take the dandelions from Nandor's hand. He says, 'Okay...' 2. Medium shot of the two in profile. Nandor, still holding the flowers as Guillermo tucks his hand inside his grip to take them, looks down at Guillermo in shock and echoes 'Okay?!' Guillermo looks up at him with a shy smile and clarifies, 'Yeah. Yes.' 3. Nandor drops his hand and straightens up, a giant silly ecstatic grin taking over his face. Guillermo turns back toward the building and points behind him with his free hand, the other now clutching the dandelions. He says, 'Just let me clock out an-' 4. A close up of Guillermo, blurred diagonally with sudden motion. The only thing clearly visible are his wife eyes, frozen grin, and a little white question mark. 5. Knees up of Nandor, now holding a startled Guillermo in a bridal carry, on a red background lined with glowing neon pink hearts. Grinning wildly down at his date, Nandor announces, 'Prepare to be whisked, Guillermo!!' Guillermo sits there wide-eyed, clutching his little wad of flowers to his chest and somehow finding his other arm looped around Nandor's neck. He stutters frantically, 'Wai- wait, Nandor, you don't have to-' 6. The background warps upward as Nandor shoots them both upward into the sky, flying them both right out of the panel. Guillermo's last word is stretched out in a startled 'OOOOOO??!' as they take off, a single dandelion escaping his grip and drifting back toward the ground. 7. Wide shot of the night sky, dark purple with bursts of white clouds and speedily increasing snowfall, lit by a clear full moon. Nandor and Guillermo fly through, Nandor smiling in a pleased way and clutching Guillermo tightly as he watches their ascent. Guillermo, both arms now around Nandor's neck and more flowers slipping from his grip into the night, stares up at him with awe. He thinks to himself, 'This is the best night of my life...' Behind them, the words 'the end' are carved into the moon. /End ID

[ruinedlover]

warning; sexual themes ! sub!fem-readerxdom!snow

Coriolanus snow a couple years after everything, he’s now established in high society, no longer living in poverty in the capital. all enemies defeated, nothing to get in his way.

except you, that cheeky friend of tigris’. you were so unique and pretty, you didn’t sing like a song bird, actually you were quite shït at it. though you were an artist, a very, very famous one, a capital gem. the capital adored your innocent, sweet, look, you were soft in every-way but your personality, though even there you were all heart and genuine.

snow knew the real you, the you that actually had a personality, like a district would have. you were snappy and sarcastic, but never mean, soft spoken but when you got excited, god you were loud.

snow only saw this behind closed doors, you were obedient and soft and loved in the image of the capitol. though you had known the family for years, meeting when tigris was still a lost teen, doing things she shouldn’t have had too. you were always kind and giving to the family, as much as they would take. though thats all you were to snow, someone who took pity.

though you never left, you were always a friend, and maybe he was just seeing you for the first time. snow was a business man now he had no time for relationships, or hookups or anything of the sort, no matter the many women thrown at him. he had never lost focus on his work, until he started noticing you more.

“is y/n coming over today?” he asked tigris and she looked at him with a weird expression, a smile on her lips. “the president wants a mural done, one that shows the power of the capital over districts, she’s not responded. he’s asked me to talk to her.”

“you? you barely know her.” tigris reminded and snow looked away for some reason a small grin was creeping onto his face. he knew you a-lot more than tigris assumed.

your legs shake and you can no longer keep them wrapped around Coriolanus, breaking what he told you to do. “c’mon keep your legs up, i thought you wanted me to breed this sloppy cunt, do you want me to stop?” he was saying into your ear, sweat dripping off of him and onto your damp body. his breath touched the sensitive neck he had abused, that he would make you cover up with an out of fashion turtleneck.

“no, please, no..” you would gasp out, you were basically brain dead. his cock thrusting in and out of you harshly for hours, had left you a whiny, overstimulated mess. tears falling out of your eyes that would roll back everytime he purposely thrusted his whole cock in you.

he wasn’t gentle with you, not today. his hand grazed your face as he stared down at your pathetic expression. suddenly he squeezed your cheeks and came closer. “then take it good like i told you to, keep your legs up.” you nodded obediently and frantic as the soft authority in his voice made your thighs twitch. he smiled and kissed you, softer than the ruthless thrusting he was giving your other lips. “such a good girl.” he praised.

your legs once again wrapped around his waist as you whined and sobbed quietly. waiting for him to let another load of his seed out inside of you, to breed you till you were swelling with his baby, securing you as his.

only when you were filled up with his baby would he feel secure enough to publicly claim you. he would never again have a girl run from him, he had to give you a reason to never leave.

“well she’s not coming today, sorry to disappoint, when i see her i’ll make sure she’s gotten the request, how much it would mean to the capitol.” tigris fawned and stopped to look up admiring nothing but the thought, then she turned to Coriolanus, but he was gone.

if she wasn’t coming he would just go to her.

[piracytheorist]

Episode 32 notes!

Starting off right in the middle of action, right where we left off!

And some great animation there, too!

The thing about Anya is that her plans are so innocently silly that thanks to her young age, they actually work.

She's right there in front of Yor, acting like she doesn't recognize her, and Yor accepts that because a) it's easy and b) well Anya is a little kid, isn't she?

The fact that Anya is visibly sweating and has a very nervous expression shows that she's worried her plan won't work, and the entire family could come apart right there. She knows it's a risky plan... but because of the circumstances, it works perfectly not only to cover Yor but also to cover Anya's knowledge of Yor's secret.

I love her.

Also, a great way to take the fear of exposure away from Yor and help her focus on the fight! Worth waiting the entire week for!

I also love how excited the entire crowd was about seeing two people "play" with what seems to be lethal weapons. They'd do numbers as WWE fans.

The camera focuses on Yor as she's starting to question herself.

Yes you are! You're hesitating to get close because you fear you'll get hurt and you know that will make Anya and Loid sad! (And of course because you'll have no excuse to tell them but okay yeah)

Anyway. I just like how in comparison to the manga, we see her expression there during her inner monologue.

Yor comments about how professional the guy is with the chain, but then she has no problem using the chain's momentum to wrap it around his wrist and then his torso. Some excellent animation there showing the small details of her control of the chain!

~YOU'VE BEEN HIT BY-

YOU'VE BEEN STRUCK BY-

THE THOOOORN PRIIINCEEEEEEEESS~

She even used his immobilized body to make him bow. She's an absolute legend.

I've talked before that this isn't even a five-year-old roleplaying. She's actually getting involved with actual enemies of the state, helping their plans without them knowing, and having a blast. Her moral compass may be a little unhinged but by god is it steadfast XD

And then. The Grand RevealTM

WHITE ASS LEGS

I love him your honour. How did he even combine all that, I don't wanna know. The rainbow-tinted glasses is what ended me.

Anya Forger, professional heart-breaker.

Again. Talking with a guy who believes humans will never understand each other and who wants to wage another war, while Twilight has his own war trauma? No big deal. Anya calling him uncool? THE SHOCK AND DESPAIR OF HIS LIFE.

And off to the next chapter! Great transition in the anime - I can usually notice when they jump onto the next chapter, but this time I was surprised with how smoothly they took it from one to the next.

Turtleneck guy says he can't pick up Yor's scent? Even though he seems to have extraordinary smelling abilities?

Is that another reason why Yor is so good at sneaking up on people? She did sneak up on Twilight, after all...

"The bones" mentioned above... is that Loid talking about the skeleton keychain? There was, after all, a hidden bug in the store Loid and Anya were in...

Some things never change.

I can't wait for the moment he realizes how soundly she sleeps on his arms because she trusts him and he makes her feel safe, just like his mother did for him :)

Zeb! I finally get the name of the guy! I won't lie that calling him Furseal felt so weird, like, apologies if your name is Furseal but hey.

Anyway. His outburst felt so real. This man doesn't belong in crime.

And of course, Olka is way too desensitized to such violence, having grown up in the family, after all, and I kinda like how she goes like "Yo snap out of it". Endo really doesn't hold back from having women tell men off huh. I also love the baby talk she used with Gram. So cute.

This scene has the very same music used in the first episode where Twilight has his flashback and remembers what his reason to become a spy was. I feel kinda sad hearing it here because I'd thought that this melody would be used as [redacted]'s leitmotif, but its meaning seems to be connected with how people broken by war can find the hope in humanity needed for peace. Or something.

McMahon berates Yor for going near the door earlier even though she didn't hear their secret knock, but in reality it wouldn't matter - unless the assassin heard their voices from outside the door - because the assassin shot anyway. It would have been the same if she had protected Olka from the first moment and then tried to assess how to attack the guy. So maybe calm down, dude.

The moment Zeb was like "How are we supposed to sleep like that?" I was certain we'd see him sleeping and snoring deeply. I was not disappointed XD

Me when proper trigger discipline: 🥳💯👀🥳👌💯👀👌👌👀🎊👌🎊💯

First, good ol' focus on the ring on McMahon's finger. Second, I'm confused by the translation here in comparison to the manga. Here it says "as long as people continue to be people" while the manga says "as long as people are the way they are", and that can have a different meaning. The former sounds like conflict is in the nature of humans and that it's something we can never avoid, which doesn't seem to follow the story's ideal. It's what Donovan Desmond beliefs are based on, after all. The latter sounds like people are currently very focused on matters that cause conflict, and have a chance of reaching peace if taught differently.

I think, depending on the interpretation, it can tell a lot about McMahon's character. I will wait to see the rest of the arc to make up my mind.

And after he says that they're soldiers even in time of peace, the manga treats us to a panel of a pensive Yor, but the anime doesn't.

Stop robbing us, anime team!

Yor tells the others they should keep their shoes on - nice detail, btw - and Olka looks very familiar with such a concept, while it's Zeb who is a little surprised but accepts it. It's interesting what a character not reacting to something can tell about them!

As expected, Yor and Olka are vigilant, while Gram and Zeb sleep like babies. Let them rest XD

Some brand new music there! There's a lot of new music in general. And then THIS!

THIS IS THE FUTURE LIBERALS WANT ETC

The way Yor widens her eyes when she realizes what she just imagined! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!

And BOY we talk a lot about Loid's denial but the way Yor is still going like "No, no, no, priorities!" though. THE WAY SHE THINKS OF YURI BEING PROUD OF HER, THEN BEING AN INDEPENDENT MAN SHE MANAGED TO RAISE WITH A FEW ISSUES, AND THEN THE HAPPY FACES OF LOID AND ANYA EATING HER FOOD I WILL GO FERAL

Someone hug her omg she deserves the world 😭😭

Neither Twilight nor Yor are the only people neck-deep in denial though.

"The man decided to live for his job" yeah right. He sees one (1) pretty woman pay him some attention because of Bond and he's like "Well imma adopt a dog then". Bond's doubtful and rejecting reaction was priceless XD

This is so fucking funny to me for some reason aadshadfhsdgh. Look at him. Brought into despair by one (1) five-year-old.

I kinda love how he admits that he does fear the unknown, and has been simply trained to overcome it and try to deal with what he has in front of him.

And currently, his fear is for Anya's emotional state.

Having no idea that she's actually having the time of her life, even though she hasn't realized how deeply dangerous her situation is.

Anyway, I love that she brought Mr. Chimera with her on the trip <3

LOID HAVING HIS VERY OWN OH MAH GAH MOMENT I LAUGHED SO HARD

He is very seriously focusing on how he can make Anya happy. He thinks she asked to go for mini golf because she likes it, so he followed along, he saw her upset with how she lost, and believed she needed to experience winning in order to feel fulfilled, so he was determined to stay there until she won.

Anya takes him to the library and of course he's read everything. And even if he hadn't, he has photographic memory and can practically read through an entire tome in minutes.

But still, he's focused on her happiness, and he's satisfied that Anya is having fun reading comics. She goes for the puzzle (btw I love the idea of having a big puzzle available and leaving it to passersby to solve it. I once visited a school where they had one on a table in the halls and students would sit and try and solve it during recesses) and he analyzes it, thinks he can solve it quickly. Anya reacts in shock, and we hear a tiny hesitant "Oh" from him, because he noticed her sudden change in reaction.

Oh no. Twilight is rubbing off on her a little too much. You're five, darling. Enjoying yourself is your job!!

Just like with the bullet in butt date, Loid cannot understand why Anya looks so angry now after having spent an entire day having fun - and he cataloguing what she seems to be having fun with.

The way that he ends his internal monologue with his fear of the Forgers breaking apart and Operation Strix doesn't cross his mind once, tells a lot about how his priorities are starting to change enough to even silence his "For the Mission" talk. My mans falling hard.

Anya sees how worried Loid has gotten... and maybe she reads even deeper and realizes how genuine of a worry it is? That he's not worried for her as an asset of Operation Strix, but as a kid that deserves to have fun and be happy. And she steps up to reassure him.

And oh, how his face changes! T_T

And the way he alternates between "Loid voice" when he speaks and "Twilight voice" when he thinks. Have I congratulated Takuya Eguchi for this feat yet?

And by the way, he "justifies" Anya being so upset of missing her mama because she's still a "small child". Because of course only small children can miss their mothers, right? Twilight definitely doesn't miss his, right?

Forget neck-deep denial, this man is deep down the Mariana Trench of denial.

And the "Small Daily Life" track from the soundtrack plays, with the beautiful family leitmotif...

I love them. He can be so sweet with Anya, I can only imagine how he'll end up post-identity reveals and especially post-feelings realization.

The final few hours before Olka, Gram and Zeb get safely transferred! I think you can see the tension on their entire faces.

Also some intense, new soundtrack there! Interesting! The composers have done a lot of job this season, carefully mixing up tracks from the previous season with new ones to create the respective mood.

And that's it for this week! I foresee way more action on the next episode! :D

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 1

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: You’re the newest member to Jam Republic Agency’s South Korean branch, starting next week as a music producer. You’ve arrived a few weeks in advance to settle into the area, and was advised by the agency to stop by JustJerk to greet another fellow member, famous choreographer Bada Lee.

Warnings: Swearing

AN: Recently relocated to this blog, hope you enjoy the read!

Previous | Next

Standing in front of the building, you take a deep breath and hope that the heart throb dancer you’ve seen on the dance show is as down to earth as Latrice have previously mentioned. Knowing that they are still filming the final few episodes of Street Women Fighter 2 and the possibility that the team’s schedule is jam packed, you crossed your fingers that you’ve arrived at a good time for a quick hello.

Walking into the reception area, you were greeted by the receptionist and stated your reasons of visit, along with a few administrative details. Once that is completed, you waited in front of the elevator, quickly checking your outfit. You’re wearing a turtleneck and an oversized coat, skirts with an opaque black tights underneath. Almost every inch of your skin was covered, a lesson you’ve learned during your visit to Akanen in Japan - people tend to stare a lot when you have this amount of tattoos, little artwork you’ve collected like stickers all over your body. Then there’s the intimidation factor, where people tend to find you inapprochable; you’ve decided to cover up a little for your first meet up with your agency member.

You noticed a loose shoelace right before the elevator arrived and squat down to lace up your platform boots - a signature piece on you that you never leave home without, a relic you take from your past life in Australia. The elevator dinged and you straightened yourself up to walk in.

The metal doors opened up to seven girls already inside, presumably coming up from the parking lot. Your eyes widen as you recognised the members of BEBE looking back at you, pausing their chatter to give you a polite nod. Initially planning on greeting the group leader in their studio, the sudden encounter took you by surprise. You entered the elevator with the girls and returned the greeting, only to promptly turn around to press on a random floor button. The doors closed and a moment of awkward silence filled the room.

When the elevator next opened up you excused yourself from the situation, “Have a great day lovely ladies,” came out of your mouth as you contemplated between ‘great day’ and ‘lovely day’, you marched down the corridor as the metal door slams behind you, trying to maintain your composure. As soon as the elevator moved on to the other floors you squatted down near the corridor, trying to bury your face from the encounter. You pulled out your phone to text the other Jam Republic dancer for a rant.

Y/N: LATRICE I COULDNT DO ITTTTT

Latrice: Wdym are u still standing in front of the building?

Latrice: Just walk in already u cowardly bitch 🥱

Y/N: I DID

Y/N: b-but they were just in the elevator and it was so cramped and so awkward and I freaked out 😭😭

Latrice: Ma’am are u telling me u were silent the whole elevator ride and followed them to the studio like a creep??

Y/N: What no I’m not an idiot wtf

Y/N: I went to a random floor instead

Latrice: Oh god you dumb cunt, I told u she’s really nice didn I?

Y/N: … yes :(

Y/N: … but they’re like really cute

Y/N: … and I was in an elevator with ALL 7 OF THEM

Y/N: Your honour it’s not my fault that I have problem talking to hot girls in an enclosed space

Latrice: boo, u whore

Y/N: Yes now come pick me up I know you and Kirsten are still in the area

On the other side of the elevator, the group exchanged a look and all started giggling. Your all black attire and looking statue, though did not help to make you any less intimidating, made quite an impression on the dancers. “Who’s that?” Sowoen was the first to break through the giggles. “I think I might’ve had a crush.” The youngest of the group twirled her hair between her fingers.

“Oh wow what about me?” The leader of the group interjected, her supple lips pouty, feigning a look of heartbreak.

Lusher lightly smacked their leader’s shoulder, “No but Sowoen is right, ‘lovely ladies?’ Damn that was smooth.” Tatter nodded and hummed along in agreement.

“Y’all see another tall hot dancer and have forgotten all about me, I see how it is.” Bada complaint and continued to fake-sulk. When the elevator opened up at their floor, your cotton candy perfume dissipated and the tall dancer found herself missing the sweet scent in the air.

Tatter side eyed her leader, “Emphasis on hot dancer, so you agree with our sentiment too huh-” her sentence was cut short by Bada poking her sides. “Attention ladies and gentlemen, Bada Lee has her eye on someone. I repeat, Ms. Lee is checking out someb-” the blonde was again attacked mercilessly by the taller girl.

“Excuse me I think I called first dib?” The youngest of the group protested. “I had eyes on mother first and I’ll fight.”

The group turned to her and all chimed in with disagreement, “Baby girl have you seen her? She’s gonna break your heart. I’ll have her instead.” The fox-eyed dancer added. The team laughed in unison as they got ready for the Performance Battle, putting aside their curiosity for the stranger.

[hannya-writes]

When they save you from a brothel (Zoro Edition)

Title: The perfect Girl

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

Other characters: The Owner

Category: romance, adventure

Warnings: there's a Kiss! Zoro is a bit Ooc because I couldn't found a way to make this happen 😅, as before there is kidnapping and violence in this chapter, there's no smut in here, walk away, horny people!! (No wait come back!!)

Author's note: just like with Luffy, this happens 6 years in the future, so Zoro would be 27 years old, why did I wrote this in the future? Bc I thought only that way Zoro would change enough to take the decisions he does (?) Nah, I just like characters to be older! Anyways, to the story we go!

• • •

You didn't started working there because you wanted.

When you were 15 your Mother/Father were sick and you wanted to help them.

You started cleaning the floors, washing dishes, serving the woman who needed help with make up or hairstyles.

The owner of the place tried to make you work for them as a prostitute, but you didn't wanted to.

So they started to pay less, at first just some berries. But those berries lost made you unable to pay for your parent medicine.

After a month without the medicine your parent started to feel worst and worst.

And like a balm, the brothel owner offered you a loan, just the right amount for the medicine.

And you thought the owner was a good person, that you would be able to pay back. :readmore:

But one day some one robbed you and the owner give you more money.

In another occasion someone stole your clothes as it was drying in the sun, the owner gave you money to buy yourself some clothes.

You couldn't pay the owner back and somehow the loan got bigger and bigger until it became an impossible amount.

Then the owner offered a deal: You could pay working for them as a prostitute or he could turn you to the police for stealing.

That time there was no room for you to say no.

Since then they gave you a room, nice clothes and even a maiden to help you with everything you needed.

Close to no clothes, very tight clothes or the worst: Lingerie and a silk robe.

And you do what you are forced to do.

There are clients that are gentle but there are those who get violent, who creep you out, who enjoy when you say no.

It's a nightmare so you try to escape. At first you sneak out but get caught.

Then you jump from the window of your room, but the guards save you from a sure death.

When they realize that you are trying to kill yourself they start to drug you.

And that's the worst because then you can't leave, you need the drug if you don't have your dosage you start to feel ill. You feel like dying but without dying.

And then you just… give up.

Zoro

Unlike Luffy, Zoro actually had the pleasure house as his objective.

However, it wasn't to exchange his money for sex. He was only interested in the Sake. The pleasure house you were trapped in was famous because of theirs.

The thing was, the place was full of people. Men with women at each of their sides. Women with skimpy clothes and big smiles.

The bar was packed too, but he was lucky as a men decided to stand up and leave with a woman.

He took the open spot and he would have ordered sake but the bartender was too busy.

"Oh god, here comes the golden bitch" a woman commented by his side and Zoro tried to not pay attention to her

"Ugh she's the favorite but she's so arrogant, who does she think she is? Boa Hancock?" The other woman complained and suddenly he got interested, he had met the ex-shichibukai but in his opinion she wasn't as beautiful as everyone said.

He followed the gaze of the two annoyed women and saw "the golden bitch" (aka you) walking towards the bar.

Zoro had seen his fair share of women, princesses, queens, warriors, samurais, minks, giants, mermaids, etc. but in all that time he had never seen a woman quite like you.

You were elegant dressed with a black dress that accentuated your figure, with a turtleneck and window in the shape of a heart. At first sight you seemed arrogant and intimidating, but after further inspection Zoro noticed how empty your expression was.

However it was easy to overlook your expression with all that gold jewelry in your wrists, neck, ears and hair. You were so eye-catching, he even felt there was a halo around you.

'Golden bitch' he almost laughed because of the accuracy of the nickname. He turned back to look if the stupid bartender was free but to no avail "the fuck do I have to do to get some Sake?" He thought to himself.

"Excuse me" you said, taking the seat by the side of Zoro before bending over the bar, almost giving everyone around an excellent view of your ass hadn't been for the dress.

When you sat back there were three bottles of sake in your hands and a sakazuki cup on your cleavage.

"I believe this is what you want to drink," you said calmly, putting two of the bottles and the cup in front of Zoro, suddenly turning into the most beautiful woman he had ever met. "I apologize for the wait the bartender is having a hard day"

"Sure" he said as you got down from the seat with your bottle of sake "thank you" he added as you turned to look at the two women who had spoken before.

"If you two have time to bad mouth me, serve the clients and stop being a couple of common bitches" you said and Zoro actually enjoyed seeing you metaphorically bite them.

After that he poured his sake on the cup and tasted the very first sip of the famous drink.

You on the other hand walked back to the side of the room, to the owner of the pleasure house, just on time to hear someone inform him that a very important pirate was there.

The owner asked who it was and the person informing showed him a wanted poster of the man you just had helped.

Which explained everything, after all you had heard his thoughts over those of everyone else.

Some time ago you had eaten a devil fruit in hopes of getting a power to escape from the pleasure house, but all you got was a power to hear people's thoughts, desires or intentions. The more powerful they got, the louder and clearer were the voices.

Moments ago all you had been able to hear was "sake, sake, sake" and the person giving you a headache with his desire for sake had been Roronoa Zoro.

"Come on, darling" the owner told you as they took you by your hand and dragged you back to the bar. "You got a special assignment" he added as he pushed a little bottle of poison on your cleavage.

'I'll get so much money if I kill him' the owner thought to himself and you felt dread filling your body.

You didn't want to do this, not again. If Roronoa Zoro discovered you were trying to poison him he would certainly kill you.

"Don't make that face, it makes you look ugly" the owner ordered you before caressing your cheek. They disgust you, with a sigh of defeat you composed your face."That's it, much better"

The owner walked to the swordsman and introduced you, adding that you will be serving him his drinks in a room since he was one of the most wanted pirates of the world and he didn't want some marine to appear and try to stop him from having fun.

Zoro accepted without a doubt, after all a place away from all those people sounded good.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Roronoa-san" you said when you got in the room.

Zoro only hummed. not wanting to give the impression that he was interested in you since you were a prostitute. He knew that give you attention would only make you try to get physical with him.

"Do you always do this?" He decided to ask as you poured the drink for him.

"Only for very special clients" you admitted without lying since this wasn't the first time you were forced to do poison someone.

"What kind of clients?" You could literally feel his distrust, it was like a needle piercing your chest.

"Ummm…" you thought for a moment, feeling that if you lied he'll know, and you weren't wrong, Zoro was studying your face. "famous clients" you smiled but he noticed the happiness didn't reach your eyes.

"How did you know I wanted sake?" He continued and you felt a cold sensation wash down your back.

"It was a hunch, I also like sake, I know how a sake lover looks like" you lied and mixed it with a truth, you liked sake, you could recognize someone who liked it.

"Get another cup then, you'll drink with me" he decided and you looked at him surprised. He hadn't took that decision as a safety measure to avoid getting poisoned, but out of a whim. That made you giggle, he seemed invincible.

"Roronoa-san is very generous" you commented and that time when you smiled a spark of life appeared in your eyes. Zoro liked that spark of vitality, he wanted to see more.

You left for a moment and when you got back you had brought the cup and more sake.

That time Zoro poured the drinks and you took a sip that made you sigh.

"Roronoa-san, you must have many stories, would you share them with me?" You spoke to him with respect and fake admiration but so naturally he almost believed it.

"I'm not good at telling stories" he answered and he immediately regretted it since you simply accepted and drank another sip of your drink with a slightly disappointed expression.

"I met my captain the day I was going to be executed…" he started his story and was instantly rewarded with an expression of surprise and happiness on your part.

'How cute' you heard him think at some point of the story when he described his friend Chopper and you got excited.

Usually men thought you looked hot, sexy, fuckable and those kinds of things. No one saw you as someone cute, it made you blush and Zoro enjoyed the unrestrained emotion his thought had provoked.

"It's your turn" he said when he ended his story and you looked at him with a confused expression.

"My turn?" You asked frowning.

"Your turn to tell me your story, it's how it works" he explained and for a moment you got trapped in a flashback, a succession of escapes ending bad, hits, lightened cigarettes being pressed on your back only for someone of the staff to "erase" your scars with the power of a devil fruit.

"I'm afraid that will kill the good mood" you commented but since he had told you a story, you decided to humor him. "This story is not mine…" you said as you started your narration.

You were creating the story as you told it but everything made sense, it was about a Swordsman, since Zoro was one.

Zoro enjoyed the story, as you were telling it, he noticed how relaxed you were, how your vacant expression came alive every now and then.

"You are good at telling stories" he praised you making you blush again.

"Thank you" you answered with a smile that made Zoro's ears turn red, how were you doing that? How were you managing to get all of his attention?

"Could you tell me another story, Roronoa-san"

"Sure, why not?" He said and noticed how you leaned forward on the table expectantly.

"Wait, Roronoa-san, I'll go for more sake" you interrupted him moments later as he told you about Enies Lobby, he nodded and you left in a hurry wanting to hear more.

"What is taking so long?" The Owner asked you when he saw you in the kitchen.

"He asked me to drink, I can't poison him" You explained and the man slapped you across the face.

"Stop being useless and find a way" he said angry and left you there.

When you got back to Zoro it was with a tray in your hands that had three bottles of Sake and a plate of snacks you ordered to poison.

"What happened?" He asked the moment you crossed the threshold.

"I'm sorry I took so long…" you started to apologize but Zoro wasn't listening, his gaze was on your cheek. In the small amount of time he had seen you, you had shown to be a level headed, smart and elegant woman who didn't bother anyone… So, who had slapped you and why?

Fuck, why was he so fucking angry about it? Has Sanji's character rubbed off on him?

"What happened?" He asked curious, pointing at your cheek and you touched it softly

"I made a mistake" you said without thinking, touching the burning skin where you had been hit. "It's ok, I deserved it"

'no, you don't' his thought warmed your heart, it made you wonder how could such a rough looking man be so sweet.

"I thought you were the favorite" He said frowning and you laughed without happiness.

"I'm just a caprice of the owner" you said, offering him a cup full of sake that he gladly took. "I'm their precious canary, but that doesn't mean he won't hit me" it took you a moment to realize what you had said, you had spoken your mind without thinking, showing him the real you.

"What an idiot" he said, still bothered every time he saw your red cheek.

Feeling his annoyance directed at the owner made you comfortable but wary, no one was that good.

"Why? Would you treat me better if I were yours?" You teased taking a seat on the table, by his side. "You know what's my work?"

'of course' Zoro answered in his mind but only looked at you with a serious expression. You leaned towards him and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"I'm a whore I kiss men, I make their fantasies reality, I let them use my bo…" it was his hard gaze that made you shut up.

Why were you saying that? Why were you discouraging the infatuation the swordsman had on you? Why did it bother you that he had made you drop your act of the perfect girl?

'how annoying…' His thoughts made you smile, a weird sensation prickled on your brain and it took you a long moment to comprehend what your devil fruit power was catching on him.

Yeah, coexisting near the love cook had finally rubbed off on him because he wanted to hold you, kiss you… get you to a safe place.

'protect' was what you were catching from the swordsman. He wanted to protect you and you were building walls to reject feeling like a damsel in distress.

"Roronoa-san…" you whispered before pushing away the sake for you to sit right in front of him with parted legs in an inviting way. Your hand took his and you guided it to your thighs. Maybe if he fucked you he'll forget about his attraction to you "It's fine if you want me" you guided his free hand to your chest but he suddenly reacted by getting away from you.

He couldn't do it, he was not made of stone, he felt things, he had urges but he didn't want to do that with you. No when you were doing it because it was your job. It would be like taking advantage of you.

"Roronoa…" you followed him with your eyes only, knowing he didn't want you to touch him, knowing what he was feeling because you were in synchrony with him.

"Shut up" he told you and you obeyed "Stop trying to get in my pants" his choice of words made you blush and laugh, laugh for real.

With a huff you hopped down from the table and he watched as you went to the very lavish bed in the room. The very same bed Zoro had been actively ignoring from the beginning.

"You aramazing...Your feelings are overpowering me" you finally said as you lay in the bed hugging a pillow.

"What?" Zoro asked, taken aback by your words.

"You have a crush on me but you respect me, you think I shouldn't be here, that I should leave" you said so softly that Zoro got closer to hear you.

"I don't…" Zoro was blushing big time.

"I ate a devil's fruit, I can read minds, so don't bother denying it" you cut his sentence.

A slight blush stayed in his cheeks.

"Fine, whatever" he almost went back to the table but noticed that you had in your hand the last bottle of sake "hey, what are you…?" He saw you drink from the bottle, his eyes followed the path of the sake that spilled from the corner of the bottle's mouth forming two very appealing rivers that traveled from your mouth to your chin and then down your throat.

He hated his sudden urge to lick the sake from your skin.

"There's been others like you," you said when you drank, taking him back to reality. You cleaned the corners of your mouth and continued. "You think you are heroes, but you just want to chain me, hide me where no one else but you, can see me" Zoro got closer and tried to take the Sake from you but you pulled your hand away to avoid his hand. "I mean, it's kinda an implanted fantasy, look at these" you showed your wrists with bracelets that covered almost half of your forearm. "This scream shackles, this says save me! Be my Prince charming" you mocked

"Pathetic" He suddenly said and you looked at him bewildered since you were able to feel his very clear desire for you but his words and attitude were the opposite. "You have embraced your cage" he leaned over you, you felt his intentions of taking the sake from you.

He was right, you were able to read minds but you felt like he was the one reading yours.

You were afraid, you didn't want to get your hopes up only to crash and discover he was a liar.

'Say the word' his mind was saying and your movement to get away from him staggered at that.

Word, what word? What was that supposed to mean? You tried to retreat but in a blink you were caged between two strong arms, the bed and the body of Zoro.

You took the last sip of the sake but before you drank it Zoro lifted you from the bed and put you over him, straddling his lap. The gravity did its job and the sake went from your mouth to his as you graced his tongue with yours slowly, so very slowly and sensually.

'Ask for Help' he thought and you pressed closer to him, wanting more if only for him to stop asking that of you.

"I'm not a damsel in distress...They sent me to kill you, Roronoa-san" you confessed not expecting anything from him. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"And how would you do that?" he asked amused, taking you by surprise. You tried to get away from him, but his hands kept you close to him.

"With poison" you answered with seriousness and he smirked.

"Poison" he repeated in a mocking way dismissing you "I'm no prince charming, you know? I'm a pirate" one of his hands gently pushed a strand of your hair away from your face.

You didn't have time to even be confused by his words because the idea in his head slipped inside yours: kidnap' Your eyes grew bigger and the smile in his face let you know that he was aware that you knew. You opened your mouth to tell him not to do it, but with an easy move he put you over his shoulder and started his escape.

The next minutes were filled with people trying to stop him and you giving him directions to get out of the brothel.

But Zoro is terrible with directions, so of course he turned in the wrong direction and of course he entered the wrong hall and somehow he ended up destroying the whole place.

When you finally got out, you looked in disbelief at the building in flames. How had that happened? You were not sure, but sake was flammable so…

"Roronoa-sama, you are amazing" you said as he walked away from the crime scene "wrong direction" you let him know and he stopped, turned in the other direction and started walking again.

"Your welcome" he said and you groaned in his shoulder.

"It would be easier to get you to your ship if you put me down," you said, resigned to your future.

"I'm fine, I don't need…curly brows?" When he said those last words you frowned.

"Marimo?" A man's voice answered, leaving you in the dark "that is no way to carry a lady!" He complained and Zoro growled.

'I forgot about the love cook' you heard Zoro think and you were puzzled wondering what could that mean.

The swordsman put you down and you looked at the blond man before you with an expression that made Sanji's eyes become hearts and you were able to hear his thoughts, all of his thoughts.

And Sanji's dirty and sweet thoughts at full speed scare the shit out of you, making you hide behind Zoro and fist your hands into his clothes.

"Oi! You scare her!" Zoro complained annoyed. There was a small discussion and finally Sanji guided you two to the ship where Zoro had a short conversation with the captain, who got closer to talk to you minutes later

"Y/n, do you want to be a pirate?" Asked Luffy in front of everyone and you looked at him seriously.

"No, I just want to stay by Roronoa's side"

Luffy laughed, satisfied with your answer.

"Then, welcome to the crew!"

• • •

Next... ?????? Edition

Who's edition should I write now?

[tikosblogg]

HIDDEN HEARTS//PT 2.

Summary: love triangle? you grew up with folio, you are best friends. Both in very successful bands. folio tries to ignore his hidden feelings for you, especially when the one and only Noah Sebastian steals your heart.

Warnings: angst, lil make out sesh, nothing crazy.

A/N: welp I had ALOT of time on my hands today, SO here is part two! I’m so excited for this story, part three will more than likely be out tomorrow afternoon LOL. ALSO thank you all so much for the love and support you’re sending my way! It means the absolute world to me.❤️

I woke up the next morning, with a pep in my step. I am so excited about today. This song is fucking sick, and I can’t believe I get to sing it for the band. I walked to the closet picking out a hoodie and some sweats, throwing them on. Nick texted me that they were on their way 15 minutes ago. I have to make time today to sit and talk to him. I need to figure out what is going on. I didn’t bother fixing my hair, or putting on makeup, since I was going to get it done there anyways. I grabbed my belongings and walked out waiting for the guys to pull up.

Five minutes later, a black suv came pulling into the driveway. Jolly rolls his window down “get in loser, we’re going to shoot a music video.” He smiles at me, opening the door from the inside for me. I threw my head back with a laugh, at the mean girls reference. “Here you can sit next to Noah so he can talk your ear off about his anime show.” Jolly laughs moving to the third row of seats.

I slide in next to Noah, with a small smile. “We can change seats if you want, lungs” Nick suggests from the front passenger seat. “Oh it’s okay really, thanks nick.” I patted his shoulder, as he gave me a small nod turning back around as Ruffilo pulled out of the driveway. “You like anime?” Noah leans in and whispers, I let out a giggle nodding my head yes.

We pulled up to the set, a lot of cameras and people swarmed the area, some fans linger outside the building, waiting for Bad Omens to make an appearance. We pulled around back to a secluded area and made a beeline inside, straight to hair and makeup. The guys walked me to a room that had a whole vanity set up, and racks of clothing.

I said hello to my makeup and hair stylists for the day. They were really sweet women. The hair stylist Jenna, got to me first. She took the straightener to my long blonde hair, straightening it pin straight. She sprayed some texturizing spray, and hair spray to make sure it stayed put. Next Sarah came to do my makeup. It came out flawless. It looked almost eerie?

I’m supposed to be playing a rogue AI. It’s amazing seeing Noah’s vision come to life. I thanked them both, as a guy came in, and lead me to the racks of clothes. He pulled out a sheer white outfit. I took the outfit from him, sliding it on. The white long sleeve turtleneck was soft against my skin. I looked up towards the mirror, my tits clearly visible through the shirt.

I felt my cheeks flush. I’m not really embarrassed of my body, but I’ve never worn anything this sheer. I feel like I might as well be wearing plastic wrap as a shirt. I shook my nerves away, sliding into the bottom half. Thankfully they came with white underwear type bottoms. My most important bits, thankfully being covered. The man I learned who’s name is Jon walked back in, adjusting the outfit.

“Perfect, it looks amazing on you hon.” I smiled, thanking him as he walked me to set. When we entered, all the guys were standing around a big glass box. My eyes widened at how beautiful it looked. It was exactly like I pictured it when I was explaining it to Noah. There was a chair dead in the center of the glass case. The floor was covered in what looked like green moss.

I gasped when I saw the cutest Snow White bunny, sat in the corner of it. My sudden outburst caused all the guys to turn their attention to me. “Damn y/n….you look great!” Nick smiled, as I walked over to them. They all nodded in agreement, as I thanked them. I looked over at Noah, who was frozen still eyes glued to me. I gave him a small smile, getting worried that he hated it.

He cleared his throat, taking a step towards me. “Wow…you uh..you look amazing.” I could see a slight pink tint cover his cheeks, making my confidence shoot through the roof. Did I really just make him blush? Fuck yeah I did. “Thank you Noah.” We did what felt like hundreds of takes. Some in the glass case, and more on a gurney, and even the hallway.

After finishing them, Jon took me back to the dressing room grabbing me another outfit. He quickly shoved it into my arms making his way out of the room. “Change quickly hon, they need you back out there in 5.” He slammed the door behind him, as I stood there dumbfounded. I looked at the “outfit” in my hands, looking like a bunch of leather straps. “What in the hell?”

Well after 5 minutes, I finally got it on. Turning towards the mirror, I froze in horror. I thought the first outfit was bad….I look like I belong in hustlers magazine. This one piece was literally just straps. I twisted around in the mirror, looking at myself from every angle.

The bottoms were cut very high, my ass no doubt making its appearance. My tits barely fit into the top. My thoughts were interrupted when the dressing room door swung open. “Hey is everything-.” Noah walked in, pausing when he saw me. All of sudden I felt completely bare. I could feel my cheeks getting hot.

“Oh um yeah, sorry…couldn’t figure the uh…the straps out.” I stammered, awkwardly gesturing to my outfit. He said nothing, as he quietly shut the door behind him. I let out a half hearted chuckle, as he slowly stalked over to me. I could feel my heart pounding, the closer he got. He said nothing, stopping just in front of me.

I held my breath waiting for him to say something. We were so close to each other at this point, I could feel the heat emitting from his body. He slowly raised his hand, reaching for the strap at my hip untwisting it to lay properly against my skin. “There. You ready?” His voice was low, and husky. I nodded my head, afraid to even open my mouth, afraid of what would come out. He smiled, and I followed him out of the room back to set.

We finally finished up, at about 12am. All of us were exhausted, and ready for bed. We piled back into the suv, headed back to my place. This time Noah drove, and I sat in the very back with Nick. Noah had the radio playing, while jolly scrolled through his phone in the passenger seat, and Ruffilo was passed out against his window.

“Are you okay Nick? You’ve been acting weird for the past two days…did do I something?” He looked over at me, with his brows furrowed. “Of course not y/n. I’m sorry, I’ve just been a little stressed out is all.” I nodded my head, not really believing it. So I pushed a little further. “What’s got you so stressed?.”

He shook his head, looking down to his lap. “You know I love you right?” I smiled, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Of course, I love you too.” He nodded his head with a weak smile. “All I want is for you to be happy, no matter who it’s with.” I furrowed my brows confused, about to ask what he meant when jolly’s voice broke the silence of the car.

“Thank god, I’m so tired of being in this car.” Everyone agreed, as we all climbed out. “We still have to drive to our place dumbass.” Ruffilo laughed, as we entered my air bnb. They all looked rough. I felt bad for them, they still had a 30 minute drive home. “Why don’t you guys just crash here? There’s plenty of space.” I offered, and they all perked up. “Really? That’d be awesome actually.” Jolly said, slumping onto the couch.

I smiled, kicking my shoes off at the door. “Of course make yourself at home.” I walked back to my room, ridding my clothes and hopping in the shower. When I got out, I walked back to the living room to see jolly, and both nicks already passed out on the couches. I looked around, wondering where Noah was until I saw the sliding glass door to the patio slightly open.

I walked over to it, peering out seeing Noah on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone. “Hey…everything okay?” His head shot up, his lips forming a smile. “Yeah, I just can’t sleep. Too much going on in here.” He tapped the side of his skull, setting his phone down on the little coffee table in front of him. I nodded in understanding, stepping out and shutting the door behind me.

“Want some company?” I asked, standing to the side, waiting for an answer before I just plopped down beside him, not wanting to invade his space. He nodded his head, and patted the spot next to him. I sat down, criss crossing my legs to get comfortable. He was the first to break the silence. We talked for a while, about anything and everything. Just enjoying each others presence.

“You did great today y/n, I know this video is going to be amazing. Your creativity is mind blowing. I loved all your ideas, they really helped bring it all together.” I blushed at his praises, looking down at my lap. “Thank you Noah, you too. I can’t tell you how much I love the song. The visions you have for this whole album are fucking sick.” He laughed, thanking me.

“Did you like the wardrobe choices? Sorry if they were a little much.” He smiled, looking over at me. “I was a little caught off guard honestly, but looking back now I think they were pretty badass. I think I did them justice.” I laughed jokingly, looking over at him, when I didn’t hear him laughing with me. He was staring with a serious expression, making me nervous all over again.

“You looked amazing y/n.” I don’t even know who leaned in first, but before I knew it his lips softly grazed mine. I threw caution to the wind, and leaned the rest of the way in. It started off innocent, our lips just pressed together in a simple kiss. We slightly pulled away, our foreheads still touching. Both our breathing turned heavy, as his hand came up grabbing my cheek and pulling me in for another. This time was faster, and more rushed.

I felt his teeth nip my bottom lip, and I opened up to let his tongue slip inside. He pulled my body closer to him, as our tongues softly played with each other. A soft whimper left my mouth, bringing me back to reality. I jerked away, quickly standing from my seat. “Fuck Noah. I’m so sorry….I shouldn’t of…fuck.” I quickly turned around, headed back inside. “Wait y/n-“

I slid the door closed, and beelined for my room. Fuck! What did I do? This is not a good idea. I like Noah so much, so fucking much but I’m terrified of causing issues in the band. Nick is my best friend, I don’t ever want to jeopardize his career, or any of theirs for that matter. Noah is one of his best friends, It just feels so wrong. My feelings for Noah are so strong, but my love for Nick and our friendship mean more. I have to do what’s right…stay as far away from Noah as possible.

[anonymouspuzzler]

Do Minnie, Buck, and Davey enjoy any sports (either playing or watching)?

Minnie's gonna figure some stuff out in like a year.

[Image IDs/descriptions under cut!]

[Image 1: Panel one of a black-and-white digitally inked comic featuring Puzz's OCs Buck (a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested build, large nose, bushy mustache and balding hairstyle; he is wearing simple slacks and a turtleneck sweater) and Davey (a middle-aged black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, thin mustache, large ears, large eyes with long lashes, diagonal scar across his face, and curly hair in a ponytail; he is wearing loose sports shorts and a baggy tank top). Buck, arms crossed and looking off to the side with a grimace, says, "Egh. Nope. Not my scene." Davey, looking off to the side with one eyebrow raised in a thoughtful expression, making a "sort of" gesture with his hand, says, "Kind of...? I used to do kickboxing, but like, for exercise, never competitively. I'll watch sports if they're on, but I don't follow any particular teams or anything." End ID.]

[Image 2: Panel two of a black-and-white digitally inked comic featuring Puzz's OCs. Minnie (a thirteen-year-old white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth and large braided pigtails; she is wearing a short-sleeved sweater blouse and dark overalls) is sitting in the foreground on an old laptop, looking disinterested and saying, "Women's soccer." Buck and Davey in the background, in the same positions as the prior panel, look over with mild bewilderment. End ID.]

[Image 3: Panel three of a black-and-white digitally inked comic featuring Puzz's OCs. Minnie, looking annoyed, gestures with both hands and shouts "What??" Buck, gesturing with one hand and continuing to look bewildered, responds, "Since when??" Minnie retorts, "I don't know! What do you care! You're the weirdo who doesn't watch sports!!" Davey, with one hand in his pocket, watches this exchange with an amused grin. End ID.]

[Image 4: Panel four of a black-and-white digitally inked comic featuring Puzz's OCs. Minnie returns to looking at the old laptop, looking annoyed, with cartoon steam clouds around her. End ID.]

[Image 5: Panel five of a black-and-white digitally inked comic featuring Puzz's OCs. Minnie, still on the old laptop, looks off to the side, looking embarrassed, imagining a group of strongly-built women's soccer players in action with hearts all around them. End ID.]

[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Warnings: In this chapter-slut shaming, objectifying women, use of alcohol. This series will include 18+ content. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: This series is one of the first that I put out. It has been left incomplete for quite a while. I felt that it needed some updating and reworking, but it is one of my favorite plot archs...so get ready. There will be fluff, smut, and a WHOLE lot of angst, so pull up your panties and get ready.

Summary: Chasing after the boy who is easily known as one of the sexiest and cockiest on campus...what could go wrong?

You felt eyes on you as you walked across the quad between classes. For what reason, you couldn’t place, but you knew that you were being watched. Peering across the quad, eyes flitting in all directions, you attempted to find the source of your insecurity. Nothing. You bundled yourself tighter within the thickness of your peacoat, shielding yourself from the blustery December cold. Making your way under an awning, you smelled the familiar odor of cigarette smoke. It wafted in your direction, beckoning for you to turn your gaze upward. Ugh. Of-fucking-course. Sam douche-bag-extraordinaire Kiszka. “Cold as fuck out here,” he said, puffing out O-rings of smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“Mm, so you decide to step out in twenty-four degree weather to smoke a ciggy?” You spat sarcastically. 

 “Bad habit, sweetheart. You know what they say…they die hard.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kept walking away from him. “There’s a party on the row tonight–you coming?” your eyebrows furrow instantly, turning to meet his gaze. 

“I haven’t been to a frat party in over a year, Sam. Why would I?” He threw his hands in the air, shrugging. His cigarette remained burning between two fingers, dropping ashes every few seconds to the ground. “Just thought it might be nice to see a refreshing face for once.” 

What the fuck? Why was Sam taking sudden interest in me? “I gotta make it to class. See you around.” You waved him off and continued walking to class. 

“Hey, Y/N, for old-time’s-sake, it really would be nice to see you there.” His eyes were the color of chocolate, which was ironic. His beauty could melt any girl on campus just like the confection–except for you. You would always be the exception.

“Bye, Samuel.”

Samuel. He liked that. He bit at the corner of his lip, his eyes following you as you disappeared within the halls. Mm, I’ll save her for later. Blowing out the last puff of smoke, he stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall, dropping it carelessly to the ground before strolling away to the next entertaining encounter. 

***

Philosophy class soon turned into Philo-so-fucking-boring class extremely fast. Your mind wandered from the lecture, unable to focus. Why the fuck was he watching me? The truth that you wouldn’t even admit to yourself was that you had feelings for Sam, and had since freshman year. They had remained in the recesses of your mind ever since. For one, he was an asshole. You and almost every girl on campus knew it; however, some part of you would always have a soft spot for him, no matter how cocky he was. He just didn’t know it, and you sure as hell wouldn’t show it either. Fuck that red turtleneck sweater. Why did he have to look so good in it? You caught yourself doodling random hearts and sparkles in the margins of your notes as you thought about him. 

“Pssst, hey.” Your best friend, Paige jabbed you from behind with the top of her pen. “Pay attention, there’s going to be an exam tomorrow.” Your hands flew to cover your notebook from her view. “What are you hiding?” She whispered, curious as to why you were being so secretive. 

“It’s nothing, just drawings.” You realized a little bit too late that mere drawings wouldn’t have elicited such a reaction.

 “Doesn’t seem like it’s just a few drawings.”

 “Ladies, would you like to share your conversation with the class? Is it more important than the material that will be on tomorrow’s exam? Would you like to take it today after class since you don’t seem invested in the review?” You fell silent and averted eye contact, heat creeping up your necks to your faces. The remainder of class passed excruciatingly slow. When three o’clock finally arrived, you filtered out of the classroom to meet up with Paige. 

“So I was thinking…how would you feel about going to the Row tonight.” Meeting your expectations, she recoiled instantly. 

“Uh, who are you and where is Y/N? You never go to parties.” You turn away from her and begin to walk down the hallway. 

“I just thought it might be nice to do something different for a change.” Your cheeks were flaming again. 

“You’re such a liar. Who is it?” You bit your lip. 

“What do you mean?” you stalled. Paige stopped you mid-gait, grabbing at your arm. 

“Who is it, Y/N?” You had no choice but to look at her. 

“Ryan McClean.” Another Lie. It was a good replacement though. He was sweet, good looking and respectful. At least as much as could be expected for a frat boy. Paige stepped back with a hand on her hip. 

“You’ve never mentioned him, let alone told me you have a crush on him.” You continued to walk, ushering her forward.

 “Well, it kinda happened fast. I don’t know–I was hoping to see him tonight. I wanted to look cute.” You saved face by putting on an extra air of confidence. 

“Okay, okay I see you!” Paige grinned, snapping her fingers left and right as she walked. 

“Unfortunately, I have a date with Mark tonight–so I won’t be able to go.” You nodded, secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to see you lose what little humility you had left. 

“Stay connected to the phone, don’t drink too much, play safe, get home safe,” she counted off on her fingers. 

“Thank you, Mom. Would you like to dress me, too?” you asked, grinning. Paige rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Actually, now that you ask, let’s go pick out an outfit that doesn’t scream…pilgrim lost in the twenty-first century.” You eyed her for a silent moment, challenging each other not to laugh, but you were the first one to lose, throwing your head back and cackling at her. 

“You are such a bitch!” You said, elbowing her. “Let’s go." Paige wouldn’t let you go to that party without looking your best.

***

“Lacy Monroe.” “Total babe, 13/10. Would fuck her any day,” Wyatt Sellars interjected, a massive grin pasted on his face. 

“Okay, how about Holly?” Matthew asked the question from the ping-pong table, tapping balls back to Wyatt. Christian Hearst entered the room next, a towel wrapped around his waist, applying deodorant to his armpits. 

“Wilson? She’s a bit of a bitch, but I'd chase her for a little while until I got bored.” He chuckled, walking to the fridge for a beer.

“How about Y/N?” The room falls silent, save for the fast bounce of the forfeited ping pong ball that was previously in play. Samuel Francis Kiszka. He sits cross-legged on a lounge chair in the corner, knocking back the rest of his IPA.

“You mean the sexiest girl at school?” Wyatt offered. “Is she Mormon or something? She could have easily made her way through the entire football team by now.” 

“Jesus, you dumb fuck, she’s not Mormon.” Christian came behind Wyatt, thumping him on the back of his head. 

“Well-I didn’t know, I–” 

“I think she’s stunning,” Sam says, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. His grin was obvious. His cunning expression cut through the room.

“Okay, asshole. What’s with the look?” Christian moved to the couch, taking a seat across from sam. 

“I saw her today. Walking to class.” He licked his lips as he talked. Christian rubbed his hands together, prepared to hear about some salacious romp. 

“And?” 

Sam’s eyes grow wider. “Oh, n-nothing happened, I just saw her.” A chorus of disappointed scoffs filled the room.

 “You suck, man. You literally had us going, just for fucking nothing,” Wyatt whined. 

“It’s not like anything would happen– I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin anyway,” Sam continued. 

“Oh, so she’s the pick of the litter. Nice!” Matthew interjected. Sam looked at him with a minor look of disgust, shaking his head. 

“So why are you being a pussy, Sam? I Bet–” Christian pointed his finger at Sam in a telling gesture. “I bet you…I bet you that she won’t let you take her virginity before the month is over.” Rising from his seat, Sam padded to the kitchen tossing his beer bottle across the room, where it clattered into the trash can.

“I bet you I can make it happen. Six hundred dollars and open supply of weed for one month–split evenly.” His grin emanated throughout the room.

“Aha, bet!” Matthew said, coming around Sam to slap him on the back in approval. “Paying up like a man.” Sam took a long gulp of his beer before retreating to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

***

Just as you finished your makeup, your hand slipped and your eyeliner streaked messily through the eyeshadow that you had just applied so effortlessly. “Fuck!” An exasperated sigh escaped your parted lips as you wiped at your eyelid to salvage the look. After several minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed except for your top–you didn’t want to ruin it with makeup stains. Just as you pulled your head through the sparkly black crop top, your phone chimes. Paige.

Show Ryan what he’s missing, bitch! Shake that ass in my absence, too. Stay safe, I love you. Call me if you need me.

Right. Ryan. My little secret. You sent her a quick text wishing her well on her date. Pulling a pair of gold hoops through your ears, you got a notification that Carlos, your Uber driver, was waiting outside of your apartment. Grabbing a few last minute items, you made your way downstairs. Pulling up to campus, you noticed one thing first. It was loud. So loud in fact, that your head  was pounding by the time you made it to the Row. The identical houses were arranged in a perfect square with a patch of green lawn in the middle. Adirondack chairs littered the grass, loosely thrown around a glowing brick fire-pit. Girls looped themselves around boys, chattering aimlessly with beverages that sloppily poured over the sides of their cups and onto their laps and into the grass. They giggled and slurred–their heels dug into the earth, causing several unfortunate partygoers to trip and lurch, earning themselves yet another spilled drink or bitchy laughs from gaggles of jealous and judgemental girls.  

You rolled your eyes, debating on going after all, but your feet were already moving underneath you, carrying you along the sidewalk that led to each house. Who were you to think that it was smart to come here alone, especially when it was the first party you had attended in God-knows-how long? 

“Y/N!” Your eyes darted upward, trying to place the voice that was calling your name. You found him. Your eyes met his and you instantly felt like you were drowning. A vignette seemed to filter out the unnecessary material around you; the blaring music muted, the giggles and shouts subsided into soft static. He was impeccably dressed in navy silk. A tailored blazer skimmed his bare chest, provided as a mere accessory rather than a true piece of clothing. His bottoms hugged at his frame, falling just above a perfectly shined pair of leather loafers. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets as he looked directly at you–with that fucking smile. 

He strode towards you, knocking you out of the trance. Your breath hitched, sending bolts of panic through your system as he approached. Oh shit, what do I do? You thought, averting eye contact as you made every attempt to not look as awkward and helpless as you really were. 

“You’re not a hologram, right? If I remember correctly, you acted like you would rather be caught dead than come to the Row.” His feet landed in front of you as he arrived. You met his eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“Well, I wanted to see what I was missing–by the looks of it, it just looks like it’ll lead to meaningless sex and a bitch of a hangover.” He readjusted in his spot, cocking an eyebrow upward. He likes your sass. He likes it a lot. 

“Well, it is a party, Y/N, what better to do than get drunk and fuck, hmm?” You scoffed at him, stepping off to the side, making your way to the first house. You heard his shoes tapping the pavement as he walked. Good. You wanted him to follow you. 

“What is your drink of choice?” He asked, trying to change the subject to something more playful. “I usually stick with tequila–the citrus notes are just–” You heard him kiss the tips of his fingers in a “chef’s kiss” gesture from behind you. You couldn’t help but grin, careful to maintain your guarded disposition. 

“Got any Pappy?”  You asked, turning over your shoulder with a grin. “I’m an expensive lay.”

Sammy snorts. “Two thousand dollar bourbon? You know the fucking answer, sweetheart.” That earned him a smile. You turned to face him and were immediately tossed upside down at the sight of his dimples. 

“Well, we do have some lovely white claw reserve that was bought at this very upscale store. Maybe you know it–Target?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. 

“Shut up, Sam!” He smiled warmly, coming beside you, pulling an arm around your shoulder.

 “Let’s go find something worth drinking, hmm?” You hadn’t processed what was happening, but you didn’t want to, either. You let it happen, weighing risk versus reward.  You stepped forward into the party with him at your side, forgetting the lie you had told paige. So much for finding Ryan. Instead, you found Sam. 

End of Part.

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[marvelmaniac715]

Rating a few of my (fictional) childhood crushes:

Dark Heart - Care Bears 2:

3/10 - He seemed a lot cooler when I was a kid, I was deeply upset when I googled a picture of him for this list, I mean, an evil trickster immortal being (from what I remember) should actually look cool, he’s just… ginger 😭 (nothing against people with ginger hair but you can understand the disappointment).

Kovu - Lion King 2:

0/10 I’m sorry, but… this is a LION 😭. What on earth was I on and why was I a card-carrying member of this emo lion’s fan club? 😭

Dick Turpin - Horrible Histories (I know he was a real person but this is just a portrayal of him):

9.5/10 - Horrible Histories tried to make kid me believe that Dick Turpin wasn’t a romantic rebel, then put this man in guy-liner and called it a day… safe to say that this message didn’t quite sink in…

Discord - My Little Pony:

0/10 - Look, I’m sorry… I don’t even know how to justify or explain this one. Vibes? Yeah, let’s say that kid me liked his vibes, because I have no other reasons for him to be on this list except for my childhood adoration of him 😭.

Liv Rooney - Liv and Maddie:

8/10 - Looking back this was definitely just a crush on Dove Cameron and I’m not mad about it.

Brett - KC Undercover:

7/10 - Brett’s meant to be a bad guy but I was drawn in by his charm and honestly? I loved him and was sad when he turned out to not be entirely heroic.

KC Cooper - KC Undercover:

9/10 - Just like with Dove Cameron, this was absolutely just a crush on Zendaya but this show is where I first learnt to admire strong, confident women - she was a real role model for me as well as a childhood crush.

Donald Peterson - Nativity 2:

♾️/10 - I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, but little child me felt an inexplicable draw to this man and I just found him utterly captivating every Christmas when we watched Nativity 2, but not as much as…

Roderick Peterson - Nativity 2:

♾️/10 - I choose to blame the turtleneck or the charisma, but do I really need to explain?

Ed Petrie - Various CBBC Shows (not really fictional but he was on loads of shows I watched so like… he sort of counts?):

5/10 - Okay, this is a little embarrassing, because I actually met this man in 2017 as part of some event, and I literally couldn’t speak 😭. I have no clue what it was about this man that drew me in but like… he was super nice, and he always seemed so friendly and upbeat on tv, I guess I just formed a connection to him since he was on every second show that I watched as a child.

[ybcpatrick]

i want to tell you about my nana.

her first name was mary, but she never ever went by it, that was just a catholic thing her mum did. she went by one of her middle names, nadine.

she was born on prince edward island on december 1st, 1949, the last of seven children. she moved to ontario in 1969, met my grandfather, got married on june 26th, 1971, then had their first child, my dad, a year to the very day. she had my aunt three years later. she loved them more than anything else on earth, and did everything in her power to make sure they were happy, safe, and cared for, even into their adult years. that extended to her grandchildren tenfold, and she adored being nana. to this day, she was the owner of the biggest heart i have ever encountered.

she always had carnations on the dining room table, and planted sunflowers along the fence that grew taller than her every single year. she went to clown college. she worked in the women's section at giant tiger. she was absurdly good at golf, and drew smiley faces on all of her balls so she knew they were hers from far away. she went to church every sunday her whole life. she took her coffee black, and i still have all of her mugs. she loved star trek: the next generation (data was her favourite), charlie chaplin, red skelton, the littlest hobo, touched by an angel, and m*a*s*h. she drove a blue oldsmobile with a wooden dolphin necklace hanging from the rearview mirror. her halloween costumes were always expertly crafted. her mother-son dance with my dad at my parents' wedding was to coat of many colours by dolly parton. she hung pictures of wolves and foxes around her house. she rocked a turtleneck with golden jewelry on the daily. all of her left shoes had a sole riser on them, because one leg was shorter than the other. she made sure she always kept nesquik syrup and double-crème cookies in her cupboards. she loved crafts, especially collages, and painting on woodwork that papa had started. the coffee and side-tables in her living room looked like gigantic books, and i can still smell the inside of the coffee table drawer where she kept my art supplies. her christmas village took up a solid third of the living room every year, glittering like magic.

she was strong-willed. she was driven. she was creative. she was faithful. she was compassionate. she was patient. she was the type to hear a baby babble and respond in kind, taking the nonsense sounds and treating them like they were articulate and valuable. to her, they were. everything a child said or did was the most important thing she'd heard all day, and she made sure that child knew it. everything i ever said to her was met with an unbelievable understanding and encouragement that i haven't experienced since.

she called me, and only me, pumpkin. she let me bring pooh bear with us everywhere, and even got him a high chair that hooked to the edge of the table so he could eat meals with us. she could sharpen my pencil crayons with her pinky nail. she kept everything i ever drew, and is the reason why i still do. she never made me feel silly, or embarrassed, or like i was too young or foolish to understand something. she never made me feel weird, because she was weird, too. she made sure we knew, while we had her and long after we didn't, that she loved us more than words. the eleven years i got to have her were like warm sunlight through the trees. she was comfort and quiet understanding wrapped up in a single person. she was my everything. she still is.

she died on tuesday, july 24th, 2012 around 4am. she was sixty-two years old. it was lung cancer, the kind that non-smokers and children get (and ironically, she had smoked at one point, but managed to kick the habit a few years before i was born). a year after she passed, her ashes were scattered over her brother's oyster bay on the island. my way by frank sinatra was the last song on the playlist for her celebration of life, and because of that, i can't listen to it more than once a year. but i can't deny that it was the perfect song choice for her. she was unyielding in her pursuit of her own happiness, and she was gonna take everyone she loved up with her, like it or not. she never compromised who she was. my nana was unapologetically herself, right to the end. and where she stopped, i decided i had to carry it on myself.

if you're still reading this, i'm glad to have gotten to share her memory with you. it's been twelve years since she had to go, and i was only eleven at the time; i will have to grieve her for longer than i ever knew her. but she's still alive every time i think of her, or i tell someone about her. and now i've told you about her.

thank you for letting her live again with you, even for just a moment or two. nana would've loved you, too.

[royposting]

i think its always an interesting discussion with normie women about looks honestly. like i know we like to poke fun and such but ill happily have the talk with them when theyre curious.

like i am a decidedly gnc woman. i dont have the swag to be butch but i have a buzzcut and im hairy as hell and i mostly wear jeans+hoodie or dress pants+button down or turtleneck. also usually a baseball cap. i have had a lot of coworkers who were typical feminine women and they have almost all said something along the lines of ”but you could be so pretty!”.

they genuinely, in their heart of hearts, think ive decided to be ”ugly” because i just dont know better. so i show them photos of when i used to be very feminine - long hair and short skirts and full beat face every day - and they are SHOCKED. the usual question out of their mouths is ”what happened?!”. and they cannot wrap their head around the concept that i have the potential to be traditionally attractive for a woman but choose to be gnc.

even more so, they absolutely REFUSE to believe that i find myself more attractive now, and that as a lesbian, women find me more attractive now. they genuinely think lesbians are just okay with being ”ugly”, not that we find ourselves and each other sexy like this. women are genuinely not told that they can be anything other than traditionally, femininely, stereotypically attractive, and that there is no other way to be. and id like to think i can expand some minds by answering those questions, and thats a good thing.

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #42: Call me your brother.

I finally got Fannie to talk, on a picnic blanket by the lake, while we shared a Gungan fish egg tea (which is merely an unfortunate name—they're tapioca pearls).

"I feel...lost," she admitted. She glanced at me, as if to gauge my reaction. "What I mean is...I've been back on Ryloth for almost four years now, doing what I always knew I'd be doing...what I thought was my life's purpose. Fighting injustice, and working to heal those who have been harmed. But...injustice never goes away, and there are always more who need help. The problems will never be fully solved..." She shook her head and bit her lip. "It's gotten to the point where I find it...hard to care anymore. And that truly frightens me. I do not want my heart to be dead."

"Hey," I said quietly. "There's a word for that, you know. Burnout. It's pretty normal."

"Well, it shouldn't be." She blinked out tears and looked at the sky. "How is it that I can listen to these women tell their stories, share their nightmares with me...and feel nothing? Or worse yet...I find myself getting bored. Or annoyed. Waiting for my lunch break. Watching the minutes with impatience while they weep. I feel like such a horrible person, and it's not like me at all. Unless I've changed, or...unless I've always been this way in secret, deep down." She looked terrified at the thought.

"That can't be it. You're the nicest person I know," I said. "Sounds like you're just a little depressed right now. And anyway...it looks like you do feel something." I took a napkin and patted the tears off her cheeks. "Have you talked to Luke about all this?"

Fannie sighed. "A little bit. Your uncle is so kind and a wonderful teacher and has good advice...but I don't think that's enough to help me. It's not like before, when I lived with him and the other Jedi and had their constant support. I go through my days alone now. And I don't know what to do."

"You're not alone," I told her. "You just have to reach out."

"Yes," she agreed. "But surely you know more than anyone that it's not as easy as it sounds, when you feel darkness all around you."

I nodded. She was right.

She laughed a little. "Imagine: me, talking about feeling darkness all around. Me, with my knitting and my ribbons and my bright pastels." She held up the corner of her sky-blue tunic with the pink ruffles she had sewn herself, and let it fall with another sigh.

"Hm, yeah." I bumped my shoulder against hers. "You know...I know a guy with a ton of black turtleneck sweaters he never wears. Maybe he can lend you some."

That got her to laugh, more genuinely this time. It felt good to make her laugh.

"Seriously though," I said. "It doesn't matter that you're Little Miss Ribbons McRuffles. Life can get anyone down. And just because you feel like this right now doesn't mean you're not still who you've always been. I know you're still you."

"Well...thank you, Ben." She smiled a little.

But then something else seemed to cross her mind, and her smile vanished like air being sucked out of an airlock. Her face grew dark and concentrated. I noticed her fingers start to twitch in her lap—a phantom knitting project.

"...Fannie? You okay?" I scooped up both her hands with one of mine and made her lose count of the invisible stitches. She looked at me, surprised, and shook her head.

"No...Ben....there's...well, there's something else going on."

Her hands were quivering. I had a feeling this was bad.

"Okay," I said solemnly. "Spill."

"It's—" She stopped abruptly, as if desperately holding back the words from leaving her mouth, then tried once more. "It's my—" She choked again and planted her face in her hands.

I got on my knees and shuffled around so I could face her. "Hey. It's okay," I said. I gently pulled her hands down.

Her eyes shot open, like sharp unseeing daggers. I jumped a little and almost withdrew my hands from hers.

"It's my youngest sister," she blurted. "Pennie." Her voice was strained, yet monotone. As if she could not feel. "My father...Pentarra..."

Then she started to crumble, her lips trembling, her eyes blinking rapidly and darting around like panicked fireflies. She took a few jagged breaths, in and out, in and out—then suddenly she locked eyes with me and spoke hoarsely.

"My father has made my sister one of his dancers."

The statement hit like a space freighter slamming into me. I stared at her.

Fannie had often told me about her family on Ryloth, her story unusual to someone who'd grown up in the Core Worlds like me. How her father Ruut Pentarra, a rich and powerful Twi’lek, had several "wives" who were really more like slaves—one of whom being Fashha, Fannie’s mother. She’d told me about her three younger sisters, Connie, Ginnie, and Pennie, and about her nine other half-siblings. And she’d told me how Pentarra praised his sons and treated them as such, but seemed to ignore his daughters.

Well...until now, at least. Ew.

"...How old is Pennie now?" I asked, after a long silence. I was thinking of my own sister, Rey, who was thirteen. I couldn't remember, but I hoped Pennie was older—not that it would make things much better.

"Nineteen," Fannie said. "But she is still more girl than woman."

I didn't know what to say. My first thought was something along the lines of "that has to be illegal," but we'd had that conversation so many times before. Ryloth was an independent world, not part of the New Republic, so their laws and law enforcement were different from ours. And anyway, Pentarra's influence and wealth protected him from a lot. Fannie had told me stories of things he'd gotten away with that I couldn't believe.

“Pennie is too immature to understand,” Fannie went on, staring hard into the distance. “She has always felt overlooked. So now, she is pleased to receive what she sees as extra attention, a recognition of her adulthood, and an honor not given to any of her sisters. And Pentarra sees Pennie’s hunger for love, and uses it to his advantage. I tried to speak to my sister, to convince her to leave, but she is so blinded by delusion that she accused me of being jealous. My heart is broken for her."

Fannie's lips curled into a faint odd smile, and she looked straight at me. Her brown eyes, normally soft and kind, were intense.

"I would love to spill my father's blood," she stated calmly, sweetly, with an eerie lilt. Her lips pulled back to reveal a feral, toothy grimace that sent a chill down my spine. "And drink it. Drop by drop."

I could only look back at her, shocked. Not at what she said, because I felt she was entitled to that sentiment (well, okay, maybe the drink-it-drop-by-drop part was just a little unhinged)—but shocked because it was coming from Fannie, the good girl Jedi who had asked me not to use swear words in front of her.

And then her eyes widened and she looked all scared and she shuddered all over and turned away. "Oh my goodness. It just came out. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I would say such a thing. You see? I'm not myself." She gave a distracted whimper and went back to her imaginary needles and yarn.

I chewed on my lip, thinking carefully. All right. Well. This was...a lot. Like...a lot a lot.

After a pause, I reached out and took her hands in mine.

"...Okay," I said slowly. "So. You're not going back to Ryloth. At least, not after we go back and get your stuff. You're gonna stay here with me for a while."

She shook her head again without looking at me. "I told you already, Ben. I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to be roommates with a boy."

"Hey." I swiped my knuckles against her cheek playfully. "I'm no boy, sister. I'm a gentleman."

“Maybe if you’d been wearing a shirt this morning, I’d believe you.”

There was just a hint of a smirk on her face—the mischievous side of her that rarely revealed itself. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m just teasing you,” she said with that tiny smirk, then cleared her throat and picked at some fuzz on the picnic blanket. “But…I don’t know, Ben.”

"Come on. I lived in the same house as Rey for three years and she's a girl."

She gave me an exasperated, are-you-stupid kind of look. "Well, of course, Ben. Rey's your sister."

"Not by blood," I reminded her. I was going somewhere with this. "What's that Twi'lek thing you always used to say? Kartakk..."

Her eyes told me she'd picked up what I was putting down (even if my Twi'leki pronunciation was atrocious). "Kartakk erai de numa,'" she finished begrudgingly. It was the phrase that Twi'lek slave women were said to have whispered to one another in passing to show camaraderie. Fannie had said it to me many times in the past.

"Which means...?" I gave her a nudge with the back of my hand.

She sighed. "'Call me your sister.'"

"Yeah. See? You're my sister, too."

“But...I can't leave Ryloth. I have my work…”

“Which is…?” I prodded. She blinked.

“...Holocounseling.”

“Exactly. You can do that from Naboo.”

She was quiet.

"...Hey," I said. "You had fun today, right?" She nodded slowly. "Well...maybe getting away for a bit is just what you need. You said you feel like you face every day alone, so...maybe it could be good for you to be less on your own. At least for a little while."

She stayed quiet. I saw her counting stitches in her head.

And then...

"...Well...maybe I can stay with you for the summer," Fannie said finally. "For just a couple of months. Till...till I can get back to my old self again."

She smiled. Genuinely. It was like that time I'd called her a month ago. Like sun breaking through the clouds.

I smiled back. It was good to see her smile.