#it is never explained but the vibes are there

[miscellaneous-misty]

diligent nerd sukuna who is the most strict, grumpy, arrogant nerd you have ever met.

diligent nerd sukuna who feels the need to intervene when you sit next to him near the front of the lecture hall on the first day of class. with all the typos and mistakes you're making on your notes, he thinks it's either a fluke or a miracle that you even got into this advanced course.

diligent nerd sukuna who corrects your misunderstandings about the lecture and material as you write the information down, insulting you after the lecture for bringing a laptop for taking notes when you clearly should've brought a notebook. writing notes by hand is better for remembering the material in the long run, don't you know something so basic? idiot.

diligent nerd sukuna who nearly snaps his pencil in half when you shrug and tell him you never really take notes for most of your courses. when you tell him you never study for the exams, he really does break his pencil then.

diligent nerd sukuna who is personally offended by your unreasonably relaxed attitude and utter disregard for your academic career. he drags you to the campus library, demanding for you to sit down and learn to study. you shrug and go along with him, a coy smile teasing the edges of your lips as sukuna unknowingly makes you skip class.

diligent nerd sukuna who sits next to you and hands you a spare notebook he carries in his backpack because of course he carries an extra notebook with him, do you take him to be an idiot like you?

diligent nerd sukuna who lectures you for three hours (with 15 minute breaks in between because obviously breaks are important for absorbing the material properly) on proper studying methods and note-taking. you sit there, smiling and nodding blankly, admiring his handsome face and the muscles bulging underneath his drab clothes, wondering what his body looks like underneath.

diligent nerd sukuna who takes everything way too seriously. he'll scoff whenever you try to show him any memes or videos during the breaks, judging you for wasting your time on stupid content instead of relaxing in a more productive and useful manner, telling you to join him in stretching and taking a walk instead.

diligent nerd sukuna who doesn't understand what you find so funny about his dress sense. yes, he wears glasses, sweater vests, white button-up shirts tucked neatly into his crisp khaki pants, and sensible shoes. what do you mean it doesn't suit his personality? what do you mean his tattoos don't match the vibe of his outfit? are you trying to piss him off?

diligent nerd sukuna who gets pissed off when you tell him your grades are decent enough, so you don't see the point in studying or trying hard. you'll get your degree either way, it's not like it matters. but he scoffs, telling you that it's important to understand the material properly because if you don't, your incompetency will negatively impact everyone you interact with at your place of work once you graduate. he holds his chin high, looking down on you as he says that you shouldn't settle for less if you want the best possible outcome for yourself and for the world around you.

diligent nerd sukuna who really can't understand why the hell you stared at him for a moment before laughing and calling him cute. you really must be stupid to respond like that.

diligent nerd sukuna who patiently explains every question or concept you don't understand, despite having a grouchy demeanor about him. when he leans in close to you to look at what you've written, you can feel his body heat radiating from him, hot and inviting, the faint smell of his fresh, minty breath making you wonder what it would taste like to kiss him. the three hours pass by quickly with a tutor like him.

diligent nerd sukuna who gets the funniest, goofiest look of shock on his face for about a millisecond when you tell him you missed a class because of his spontaneous study session with you.

diligent nerd sukuna who is immediately angry that you didn't say anything about the class you were supposed to attend. he's even more livid when you shrug and say he was more interesting than your class. you still should've attended instead of skipping!

diligent nerd sukuna who looks like he wants to throttle you when you giggle cutely at his reaction, a weird feeling fluttering around in his stomach at the twinkle in your eyes. you jot down your number in his spare notebook, winking at him as you tell him to hit you up sometime for another study session.

diligent nerd sukuna who watches you leave, annoyed that you left the notebook behind. what was the point of taking all those notes if you weren't going to keep them for reviewing later? wasn't it obvious he was going to let you keep the damn thing?

diligent nerd sukuna who decides to never text or call you because you're a carefree slacker, a simpleton who flows through life all easy breezy. the complete opposite of him. he should only be surrounding himself with like-minded people who value success above all else.

diligent nerd sukuna who caves in less than twenty-four hours, telling himself he's just messaging you because it's good for him to explain the concepts to someone else to reinforce his own understanding. he's only doing this for his own benefit. it's definitely not because he can't stop thinking about your smile or laugh or the way you look at him like you want more. definitely not because of that.

diligent nerd sukuna who glares at you when you two meet again and you tease him for contacting you so soon, singsonging that he definitely likes you. he adamantly denies it, insisting that this is the last time he'll be studying with the likes of you. no, he isn't pouting. why would you even suggest that? stop laughing and let's get to work already!

masterlist

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Something More

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.

“What are you still doing here?”

Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick. 

So why were you still here?

You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you. 

“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”

Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”

You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most. 

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”

Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm. 

“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah…yeah, probably.”

Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does.”

You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again. 

“No, it-”

“It does because you never hide anything from me.”

“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you. 

“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”

It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”

He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed. 

“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.” 

Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you. 

“What are you-”

With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?” 

Bucky nodded. 

“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually…a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”

“Y/n-”

“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”

“What?”

You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table. 

You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”

You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”

“Six months?!”

“Just…sit down? Please?”

It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him. 

“How can you be okay?”

You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”

“How?”

“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”

Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.” 

Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”

You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that…it was worth its weight in gold. 

You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something…more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just…

Something More. 

Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud. 

“Want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”

But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat. 

You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one. 

“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”

Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”

You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions. 

You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound. 

You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually. 

Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.

Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party. 

You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt. 

It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months. 

“Did you buy a renovation?”

You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”

“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” 

You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you. 

“Okay.”

The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it. 

You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it �� all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed. 

The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around. 

Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months. 

You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint…

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack. 

Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work. 

“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”

“Stay in your tape.”

After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones. 

“Left a bit, left a bit.”

“We need to go right.”

“No, we need to go left.”

Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”

“Two hours. I have tried.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside. 

“Right, right. Now go up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up?”

“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”

Sam just started at Bucky. 

“Oh, for the love of-”

As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge. 

Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done. 

You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats. 

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”

“Where are you getting it from?”

After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”

Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him. 

“Why?”

“Because you stink.”

You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you. 

Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo. 

And then Bucky walked up the stairs. 

As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name. 

“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”

“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”

“Really? Okay.”

Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet. 

However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky. 

Naked Bucky. 

His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him. 

But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room. 

You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant. 

The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind. 

It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-

“Hey, two pep- Matthew.” 

What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex. 

“What the fuck?”

“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Please!”

His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”

“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”

“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”

Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t. 

“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”

“Please leave.”

“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”

In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you. 

Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime. 

The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you. 

“Holy-”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”

“Oh, really?”

You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants. 

“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”

“You’re not worthy of shit.”

Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”

“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked. 

Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best. 

It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”

A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew. 

The pizza guy. 

“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”

You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone. 

“Thanks.”

“I hope you resolve…whatever this is. Bye.”

Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address. 

Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up. 

“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”

“But she still loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t.” 

That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might. 

He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided. 

“She does.”

You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”

Bucky just smirked. 

“B-but what about our life together?”

“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”

As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out. 

“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”

Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward. 

“And what if I am?”

Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed. 

“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added. 

“But-”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day. 

Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist. 

Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome. 

“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes. 

“Thanks.”

Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body. 

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away. 

“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”

“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed. 

“You can’t escape it.”

Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”

It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning. 

For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like. 

You saw the way he looked at everyone else. 

And then there was the way he looked at you. 

Something more.

You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you. 

It was his turn to step closer. 

Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes. 

And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed. 

But this. 

This he didn’t see coming. 

No matter how long he’d hoped for it. 

You kissed him. 

And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours. 

In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back. 

It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours. 

“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer. 

“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”

Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows. 

Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason. 

“You might have to give me a minute.”

It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel. 

“Thought I might get a show.”

Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”

You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again. 

“What? What is it?”

You just kept looking. 

“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like you’ve got two heads?”

You shook your head. “No. Like I’m…something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know…why do you look at me like that?”

Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”

You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years. 

Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were. 

And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice. 

“Had being the key word.” 

He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We…we both needed time.”

Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist. 

Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync. 

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”

You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”

He looked at you, again. 

“You’re more than something more to me, too.”

Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”

[star2fishmeg]

Which hughes do you think would be into the weirdest kink?

[18+]

I think most people have got something deep down, personally, whether they know it or not (doesn't have to be extreme either). So, I wouldn't say weirdest bc I don't want anyone feeling kink shamed, so we'll say the kink they keep the most quiet (under cut):

Quinn | He's a quiet guy in general, but he has thoughts of e-stim running through his mind a lot. He's used it before for recovery treatment, but he can't help but imagine how you'd squirm and whine if he stuck the patches to your most sensitive areas, gradually increasing the voltage to coax an orgasm out of you. Quinn's openly been the number one appreciator of your tits, never failing to hear you moan out and tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his head into you. He excels in making sure they get the attention they deserve but too often while sucking them pink he's imagined you lactating on to his tongue. He's a curious guy, enjoys learning, and there's only one way he'll find out how you taste. But the one he keeps quiet the most, is rubbing one out as he cucks you. The condition is that he gets a little say in who, he's a possessive guy, and loves you dearly and what his lover wants, his lover gets so if you were to ever bring up the subject of helping someone out or inviting someone to join, he'd be more than happy to watch you wail out amused moans, getting the temporary satisfaction you desire. After all, he'd just make sure to fuck you better to erase all trace of the other person, it's not like you'd pick anyone over him anyway.

Jack | Gives the vibes that he's had a few roleplay fantasies. It's less about the scenario - he doesn't mind if he's slamming his cock into a maid or being sucked dry by a nurse - and more about the little outfits you'd wear, those skimpy ones that don't hide much, those little skirts that let your panties peek out, tops that can easily but pulled on to free your tits. As long as the allusion's there, he's getting harder by the second. Speaking of fantasies, best know that when he's chewing on that hockey glove of his, it's because he's thinking about fucking you with his gear. He can't explain it, but the thought of you tainting his gear with your cum, your scent and coaching you through adapting to the size has him aching and palming his dick. Whether it's the finger of his glove and rubbing your clit over his stick and wiping you clean with his jersey, there's something about the possession of it he can't get out of his head. His last, most unspoken kink is how deep down, degradation gives him some of the best orgasms of his life. He loves to be praised and thrives off you cry about how good he makes you feel, but calling him pathetic and saying that he could do better really gets his adrenaline going and cock hardening. Degrading him gives him something to prove, which means he'll work twice as hard to get you there.

Luke | He's not got a lot to hide, he'll either admit it or wait for you to bring it up and agree. Luke? Secrets? Barely. Yet, he's oddly quiet when it comes to receiving breast play. He loves your tits, loves his mouth smothering them, but something he's been wondering is what it would feel like if you sucked his, groped him, flicked your tongue over and pinches his nipples until his body was tingling down to his core. His cock twitches whenever you touch his chest anyway, it's sensitive and you have a touch that makes his breath hitch so maybe one day you'll have your lips wrapped around his peak, sucking and swirling until they're swollen pink, fingers rolling his nipples as you're sliding along his cock. Being a hockey player comes with long roadies, sometimes too long for him to cope and there are definitely nights where he sits in his hotel room, fisting his cock and imagining it's your hand which is where he wishes he could confess his thoughts of filming to you. He knows is a concept built on trust and comfort, but his stomach flips at the thought of watching a video of himself disappearing inside of your pussy, your voice blaring through his headphones whining and moaning out his name on a loop as he gives his cock broad strokes just as you do it. He thinks he'd feel more at home listening to your orgasm, watching himself rub his tip through your folds and cum inside you.

[visenyaism]

top ten clinically depressed asoiafers

I don’t think anyone ever wrote out the Westerosi DSM but I’ll take a crack at it.

Honorable Mention- Mance Raider and Qhorin Halfhand. We don’t get enough to make a full conclusion because it’s not important to Jon’s story so this is just a vibe but I feel it strongly.

10. Rhaena the Lesbian- like one of two actually great fire and blood characters. Convalescing in Harrenhal for like a decade after her wife left her and her third husband killed all her girlfriends plus she was one dead kid and one dead mother down. Kind of epic. Should have survived long enough to be weird and bitter to Jaehaerys’ insane children.

9. Daemon Targaryen- hey speaking of killing yourself in Harrenhal. Him never being happy with what he had or knowing what he wanted beyond getting his big brother to be proud of him so he just had to constantly chase dopamine in the form of insane levels of violence grooming teenagers and getting his cop frat brother employees to like him for money. Chemical imbalance with a body count in the thousands for his last midlife crisis wife leaving teenager grooming riverlands murder suicide bender alone.

8. Rhaegar Targaryen- Hey speaking of making your clinical depression everyone else’s problem at Harrenhal leading to the death of thousands. Why do people keep letting them do this is the question. Could estrogen have saved her is the second realer question

7. Lysa Arryn. Free her.

6. Daeron the Drunken- what if you were HAUNTED by PROPHETIC DREAMS that were only BAD and spelled the death and doom of your ENTIRE FAMILY and you COULDNT ESCAPE THEM except through SUBSTANCES and you were also the HEIR and your DAD was so DISAPPOINTED IN YOU and you had to take your RUDE and disrespectful plucky BABY KING ARTHUR brother to the CIRCUS and he was TEN and BALD and picked up by the hedge knight you DREAMED OF because he is going to INSTIGATE TO THE ETERNAL MISERY OF YOUR FAMILY a little bit on accident because you are DRUNK. NO HOPE. also honorable mention to post-fratricide Maekar who just locks himself in summerhall for years and post-treason court hostage Daemon II Blackfyre. I hope he and Daeron got brunch.

5. Ned Stark- classic flavor original variant Father Depression. Things went wrong for him young that he will never explain to anyone ever and they form a veil that serves as a barrier between him and the world and everyone he loves. Poor Ned.

4. Stannis Baratheon. Never let himself enjoy anything ever. Melancholy from birth. Rude and extremely blunt with everyone. Smiles twice both at Davos. Anorexic. Bald. Who among us has not been there.

3. Alannys Harlaw Greyjoy- finding out that Theon and Asha have an alive mom who is a gothic horror attic wife who never recovered from the loss of her family to the point that she’s still asking when all her dead and missing sons are going to come home to her and then Theon comes home and does not visit her. Actually agonizing for me the reader

2. Jon Connington- I’m about to get real sincere with these last two because Dance was a really good book that hit at a pivotal time for me. Everything he is in the world to do is motivated by this deep and profound grief and repression that simultaneously makes him a worse person (hungry to commit war crimes) and his best self (dives into the river to save Tyrion contracting greyscale in the process, being as loving and supportive of a father to Young Griff as anyone really could possibly be in this series.) The fact that he is such a late-game addition but feels like a missing piece as a character because of the emotional weight he carries is really cool. I love all his chapters. Tried to grasp a star overreached and fell is so powerful.

1. Tyrion Lannister- I adore his dance with dragons chapters where after his big moment of patriarchal catharsis he is suicidal and misanthropic and an alcoholic and hurting himself and others. It is really compelling because sometimes people get worse. And yet this is interspersed with moments where he is confronted with real genuine danger or real genuine joy and he consistently chooses to be kind to others for no material gain. Like comforting Penny during the storm or tackling a Stone Man into the Rhoyne to to save Young Griff’s life. Arguably these moments do not outweigh all of the harm he is actively inflicting, but they do show that he is incorrect about his self concept that he’s a monster and is actually just a deeply hurt person who has been traumatized so profoundly and is struggling as a result of it.

[stellewriites]

cw: soft & sweet, stud gaz, ace gaz

thank you to woolie who practically wrote half of this fic with me on discord and to birdy who continues to get me hyped and inspired about butch 141 as a whole <3 ily guys

the bar wasn’t new, but you’d never been inside despite how your friends had raved about it in the group chat over the last few months.

you weren’t one to go out late often, your work kept you busy and tired more often than not, and the rest of the time you just didn’t like to have to explain that you don’t drink.

but it was a gay bar, a good gay bar from what you’d heard, and your friends had reassured you that the alcohol-free menu was more than just a glass of oj or a can of coke. so you went.

it didn’t take them long to recognise other regulars there, each of your friends nipping off one by one with a quick, “i’ll be right back, i just want to say hi,” until you were stood alone. you debated joining one of them, making new friends with any of the numerous people they knew already, but ultimately decided to head to the bar first and grab yourself a drink before joining whoever was nearest when you turned around.

the place was smoky, low lit, like something out of an old movie; and with its live band and carefully curated secondhand furniture, you’d have been tempted to call it pretentious if the authenticity wasn’t really working for the vibes of the place.

you hopped onto a barstool and picked up a little menu, humming in disappointment when you couldn’t find the alcohol free section. you noticed the lack of prices on the other drinks however and sucked your teeth, recognising it as a sign of an expensive establishment; you knew your pockets would be woefully empty by the end of the night.

“can i help you with a recommendation?” a smooth voice had you looking up into gorgeous, deep brown eyes. even the bartender looked like she belonged on the big screen with the way her locs framed her slim face. your breath caught. “i bet you like something sweet,” she continued now that she had your attention. “fruity?”

“do you have a non alcoholic beer?” you asked. you’d be paying through the nose for it in comparison to the other dives you usually haunt, but it’d give you a baseline for how much anything else would be costing.

the bartender winced. “sorry, honey, we’ve only got a local brewery’s ipa on tap.”

you looked back to the menu as if it will have suddenly spawned the information you wanted.

“prefer something earthy then? hint of spice?” she asked you. “we have a few non alcoholic gins.”

it was your turn to wince. “i like something with a bit of bite,” you admitted.

she grinned. “i’ve got just the thing,” she said and turned to start making your drink. “i’m gaz, by the way.”

you introduced yourself and she grinned over her shoulder, her attitude was infectious and you felt yourself relax as you sat there.

“did you come alone tonight?”

“no, i came with some friends but they’re just saying hi to a few people so i figured i’d check out the menu while they were busy,” you said.

“there you go,” she placed your drink down in front of you. it was a deep red that faded in to orange, garnished with a slice of lemon. “clean whiskey sour.”

you took a sip and felt your eyes widen. she laughed at your expression and dusted her hands off exaggeratedly.

“wow, that’s amazing. how much was that? think i’ve found my drink for the night,” you chuckled.

“mocktail so it’s cheaper than the real stuff,” she said and gave you the price. you ordered a second as you pulled out your purse and handed her a note.

you turned to see if you could locate one of your friends and pursed your lips as you saw them all engaged midway through their conversations. it’s maybe be a little awkward to go and interrupt to join now, but you didn’t want to sit alone all night either.

“hey, honey,” gaz called gently. you turned back to her and she reached forward with an empty hand towards your ear, you didn’t have time to frown or flinch before she was pulling it back in front of your face, a £2 coin suddenly perched between her fingers.

you blinked before you processed that the hot bartender had just given you your change via sleight of hand magic.

fucking hell. as if you weren’t already interested in her.

you bit back your budding smile and gently took your change, your grin breaking free when you made eye contact with her and she waggled her eyebrows.

“that part of the usual service or does it come with the ‘sour?” you asked as she placed the second glass in front of you.

she moved to clean up what she’d used to make your drink with a casual shrug. “reserved for my more interesting customers.”

you hummed.

her eyes flickered to the booths dotted around, the thin crowd sat at your back.

“i know you probably have your friends to go find soon,” she started coyly. “but if you don’t think they’ll miss you too much, i’d enjoy having some good company for once.”

she came to stand in front of you again, placing her palms on the bar-top and broadening her already impressive, toned shoulders. you were glad it was warm inside and that she’d decided to go sleeveless for her shift if only for the current view of her as she leant ever so closer into your space. “it’s a slow night; if you’re willing to stick around here with me it might keep me from going stir crazy.”

“we can’t have that,” you said, playing along. “who would make me another one of these if you started climbing the walls?”

“exactly,” she agreed. “it’s a public service you’d be doing really. without me, the bar would close.”

“oh is that so? your boss know you have such a high opinion of your drink making skills?” you joked.

“i own the bar, babes,” she said with a gloating grin. “and you don’t think i deserve to talk big?” she nodded to your almost empty glass and you pursed your lips.

“ok, yeah,” you admitted. “and it’s pretty impressive that this place is yours too.”

“yeah?” she asked with a teasing grin.

“i think i need to test your knowledge, though, to see if it’s all for show or not,” you pushed back, not letting her gain the upper hand in the flirty conversation.

“go ahead, honey, i’m ready,” she curved her fingers in a bring it on motion.

“ok, how do you make a mojito?” you asked pulling your phone out.

she reeled off the ingredients one by one confidently and you checked she was correct via google as she laughed.

“ok, that was an easy one.” you sniffed, squinting your eyes jokingly. “now the real challenge begins.”

you continued to quiz her in between the orders made further down the bar until one of your friends tapped you on the shoulder.

“hey, i came to collect you, you strayed from the group for a while there,” vanessa teased.

“oh i was just having fun with gaz,” you said and grinned at the bartender. “keeping each other company.”

“making sure i know my stuff,” gaz added with a wink sent your way. “i think i convinced you enough for one night. go have fun with your friends, honey.”

you reluctantly stood from your stool, but when you grabbed your drink - a non-alcoholic mai tai gaz had made without hesitation when you said the recipe had sounded yummy - you realised you’d not paid for your last two drinks. turning back to the bar you moved to pull out your card but gaz was already at the other side, serving someone else.

you sat down with your friends and made a note to pay later in the evening, but when time came to corral your drunk group into the taxi, the thought never crossed your mind and you didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her.

——

next time you go, it’s a weekend and a lot busier.

your plan to sit with gaz, reacquaint yourself and pay her back for the drinks goes out the window.

by a stroke of luck you manage to get to the bar as she’s serving instead of her colleague mixing drinks at the other end.

“hey,” she greeted you happily, tipping the brim of her cap up an inch to better see you looking up through her lashes as she half-focused on the drink in her hands. “same as last time?”

you glowed at the idea of her remembering what you’d had over a week ago, but you shook your head.

“surprise me,” you offered, felling butterflies run rampant when she grinned in return.

“take a seat,” she offered before setting to work. you pulled out one of the stools that had been tucked beneath the bar and sat patiently as she mixed your drink. it was a deep blue when she brought it over but she poured the final ingredient in and the top half turned a shimmery purple. she plopped in a straw for you and you took a sip, pleased to find that she’d stuck to non-alcoholic for you again.

“mm, that might be my favourite so far,” you gushed, biting your lip when she grinned at you. her upper lip glinted in the low light and you paused, noticing the new philtrum piercing. “you got a piercing? it’s cute.”

gaz raised a cocky eyebrow and licked her plush lips. “noticed that quick. did you spend that long staring at my lips last time you were in here, babes? cute.”

you flushed, unable to deny it, and took a flustered sip of your drink to give you time to gather your thoughts.

she chuckled and went to deal with another customer, talking to you over the raised voices of the busy bar as she started fixing the drink.

“it’s still healing but i’ll be swapping it to a gold sun when i can,” she said as she came closer again to grab a slice of lime.

“oh? we’ll be matching, look!” you said without a second thought. grinning, you pulled up a moon shaped necklace from beneath your shirt. “bought it on a whim the other day, must be fate,” you teased and snorted a quiet laugh. gaz weakly laughed along.

“must be,” she said softly, her deep eyes heavy and focused solely on you. she cleared her throat before moving to finish up the drink, leaving you alone again for a moment.

your eyes followed her along until you heard a mean snicker from your left, a muttered, unbelievable. you turned and saw another woman clearing her throat and covering her mouth with her palm, her eyes darting away from yours when you turned your head.

a bout of self-consciousness hit and you faced back towards your drink with hot cheeks. you’d not thought twice before speaking to gaz, it was second nature to be genuine with her since it’s what she gave back, but thinking back on it you could see why calling your jewellery matching would be cringey. possibly even seen as desperate on your end.

you swallowed and stood from the stool and separated from the crowd around the bar with your drink in hand. you found a small table near the edge of the room and took a seat, watched gaz from afar instead as she made the orders proficiently.

it didn’t take you long to notice how gaz didn’t linger with the other customers like she did with you; she knocked back clear flirty attempts for her attention and turned away other gorgeous women.

you watched the lemon slice go around and around as you stirred the melting ice in your cup. the fact that gaz’s gaze didn’t linger for a moment on those beautiful women had a stray thought that maybe she wasn’t interested in women flicker to life in the back of your head.

“refill?” you looked up from your glass to see gaz hovering by your table. she put down a second drink and took the first from your hands. “on the house, my treat.”

“oh, thanks,” you said with a shy smile. “busy night.”

“mm.” her hum was noncommittal. “is that why you moved seats?”

“felt like i was getting in the way,” you shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “i was thinking of leaving soon anyway, i’ll finish this off and probably head home.”

her free hand rose to pet your cheek. “i’ll save you a seat next time. i prefer it when you’re smiling at me while i work.”

“even when i make it awkward?” you couldn’t help but ask.

she frowned. putting her serving tray on the table between you, she pulled a chair close to yours and sat. “when have you made things awkward, babes?”

“that thing i said about fate, it was silly.” you tried to move past it, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“i liked it.” that shut you up quick. “a pretty girl calling me her soulmate? you think i’m letting you take that back now?” she joked, leaning in so that your shoulders knocked. “me and you are like this, now.” she crossed her fingers in front of you. “whether you like it or not.”

you snorted. “i can deal with that,” you hummed. “thanks for the drink, gaz.”

she nodded and stood reluctantly to go back to the bar, noticing her coworker growing flustered on their own. “i need to get back, but enjoy. stay as long as you want.”

though you appreciated her offer, you left soon after. you made sure to pause where she could see you and wave to her on your way out and she held up her crossed fingers again with a grin. you felt a giddy feeling bubble at the back of your throat as you headed home.

——

you started to tag along with your friends more and more often when they mentioned gaz’s, always spending a good portion of the evenings sat at the bar with gaz.

and she kept her promise, saving a barstool for you in the corner on even the busiest nights with a fierce scowl and well placed coughs to anyone that tried to sneak into it.

anyone that didn’t get the message would be ignored, no drinks made, until they’d moved again.

on a slow night, when she rolled a pound over her knuckles back and forth you asked her about her magic tricks.

“what even got you into all of that?” you gestured to the coin and then vaguely at her as a whole.

“magic?” you nodded. gaz smiled and looked down at the coin before placing it flat on the bartop between you. “my nan. she was an magician’s assistant when she was younger. she could’ve been the main star with how much she knew, but it was the 50’s. people weren’t willing to bank on the main talent being a black woman,” she scoffed and you nodded along with a sympathetic hum.

“she taught you?” you asked.

“everything i know. i’ve loved it ever since.”

her hand hovered over the pound coin, snapping her fingers on her other hand. your eyes darted away for a split second and when you looked back she was moving her hand away to reveal a penny.

you laughed and picked it up, turning it around as if it would reveal the real coin when it was in your own hand again.

“you’ll have to tell me how you do it,” you said.

she sucked her teeth. “a good magician doesn’t reveal her tricks,” she sing-songed and took the penny back from you, letting her hand hold yours for a second too long to be casual.

“aren’t you two cosy in this corner?” gaz’s coworker asked from over her shoulder. gaz turned and rolled her eyes at chris as he smirked at the two of you. he leant by to grab a chopping board before leaving the pair of you alone. as he left, he spoke, “i’m sure our gaz could show you a trick or two,” he said with heavy innuendo.

you snorted and didn’t notice how gaz stiffened.

“it’s a work night,” she said to you suddenly. “getting late. you’ll be wanting to go home soon, won’t you?”

you blinked at the sudden change in tone and nodded. with only half a drink left, you downed the bitter drink in one and stood from the bar.

“i think the girls are planning on coming in sometime soon again so i’ll see you then?”

gaz’s smile grew less shaky and she wiggled her fingers back at you as you headed out to the carpark.

——

sat at home, cross legged on the couch, you leant over the coffee table and practiced the rudimentary card trick you’d found from an online video.

“and then use the heel of your palm and the pad of your thumb to flip the correct card over the top,” the video said and you bit your lip as you tried it. you huffed when it didn’t work and tried again until the card moved how you wanted it to.

it was far from smooth and the other cards fell to the floor, but you were slowly getting the actions down. it just had to become muscle memory.

it’d take over two more months of practicing before you’d finally feel confident enough to show gaz.

——

you sat at the bar and grinned when she set down your drink. when you sniffed at it, gaz chuckled and answered your question.

“prickly pear flavour, i think you’ll like it,” she said.

you were inclined to agree, she’d not been wrong once so far. taking a sip, you hummed and took a bigger drink. you palmed the pack of cards in your jacket pocket nervously before pulling it out.

“ok don’t laugh, i’ve been practicing.” you spread the pack out in your hands as gaz stared with wide eyes, slowly growing more amused by the second as you fanned the cards out towards her. “pick a card.”

your showmanship was stiff, the words you’d memorised the man on the video saying coming across a little less flamboyant, and you fumbled the trick a little. nerves left your grip a little sweaty, but gaz reached out in time to keep the pack from falling out of your grasp. she cupped your hands and adjusted your fingers, smiling sweetly when she pulled back again and nodded for you to go on.

you cleared your throat and remembered the next step for the trick, pulling out the card fourth from the bottom and presenting it with a little more flourish.

“is this your card?” you asked.

it wasn’t.

“it is,” gaz said with an excited smile and started clapping. too smitten to bring your mood down by telling you where exactly you’d gone wrong, not when you were smiling at her like that and not after you’d obviously put so much effort into this for her.

you grinned triumphantly, ignoring the few people that had looked over at gaz’s enthusiastic applause, and put the pack to the side. you leant over the bar and snatched the sharpie from her shirt pocket; you wrote your number on the back of the card she’d claimed was hers alongside a wonky moon and sun then presented it once more to her with a softer smile.

she laughed and pulled out her phone to add your number in straight away, adding a moon emoji after your name. she rang the number and you pretended to ignore the call with an eye roll to make her laugh.

snatching your phone from you gaz huffed and muttered, “guess i’ll have to add my own cutesy nickname, huh?”

“i can be cutesy,” you argued but didn’t change the name when you saw it. you snorted.

super sexy bartender (the one with the eyes and the smile and the arms and the…)

“would’ve been quicker to type ‘humble bartender’,” you said with a snicker.

“oh, babes has jokes now?”

“i’m a barrel of laughs,” you sniffed. you turned when you heard your friends call for you. “see? i’m missed already.”

“hmm, you’ll be missed here too,” gaz hummed. “go back to your friends, i’ll text you later.”

“promise?”

“‘course.” she smiled widely.

——

the next couple of weeks were filled with you messaging back and forth during your breaks at work and throughout the day on the weekends before the bar opened and gaz got busy until the late evening… or more accurately the early morning.

one day she offhandedly mentioned that her replies might be slow because it was stock day, and her coworker had called in sick so she wouldn’t have anyone to help until their cover arrived at opening time.

you’d quickly offered her a hand (claiming you may not have muscles like her, but you could carry a box or two without sweating) and headed down when she’d eagerly agreed and the pair of you spent the afternoon together just hanging out and fixing up the stock room, music playing tinnily from gaz’s phone.

it became a habit, you going by when she had stock taking to sort out and more often than not she let her staff come in a little later so she’d have the time with you to herself.

> if you’re not busy do you want to come down to the bar later? xx

> around 12? xx

> it’s kinda important xx

< yeah of course! what’s up? xx

> my mums are in town, wondered if you want to meet them? xx

< i’ll be there for 12 xxx

despite just being friends with gaz - though you were self-aware enough to know you’d like more - you were nervous to meet her mums. you wanted to make a good impression. in fact, you wanted to impress them; leave them wheezing with laughter and contemplating your intriguing and thoughtful insights on the hot topics of the afternoon for months to come.

however likely that would be.

gaz seemed nervous too from where she stood outside the bar smoking. she dropped the cig and stubbed it dead with her trainer when she saw you however, and a wide grin overtook her face, her nervous energy calming considerably as you got closer.

“you look gorgeous,” gaz said before you got a chance to say hello. you laughed, flattered and feeling less nervous yourself as she made you do a spin in front of her before you were allowed inside.

you weren’t wearing anything special, but you supposed the last few times you’d seen gaz you’d been dressed practically to help her lift heavy boxes or dressed for your own work. your short denim skirt was maybe a little more daring than you’d first thought, despite the casual way you’d styled it.

“come on in, they’re dying to meet you,” gaz said as she led you in finally. she rubbed a hand nervously over the back of her neck, tugging at two short locs as you got closer to the table her mothers were chatting at. “might’ve talked about you a fair bit.”

“a fair bit? try a hell of a lot,” one of her mum’s said and you turned to them.

they were like chalk and cheese to look at. one dressed head to toe in flowing light cotton - a dress or skirt, you couldn't tell with the way the layers folded and sat - dyed vivid colours that seeped into each other in no particular pattern and complemented her rich skin tone. her hands were adorned in gold rings and her arms rattled with the layers of beaded bracelets she wore up her forearms. her hair, styled in passion twists, was half tied back with what looked to be a scrap piece of glossy ribbon. "i'm jasmine, kyla's mum."

“nice to meet you,” you said cheerfully and shook her hand when she held it out. her returned smile was reserved and her eyes watched you sharply.

you nervously turned to the other woman. her pinstripe suit fit her like a glove, the trousers flaring at the bottom, and her short, natural curls highlighted her round cheeks. she was just as gorgeous as jasmine, but the stern frown she was sending her wife had your hand almost shaking as you reached out for another introduction. your plan to charm them both didn’t seem as realistic as you’d hoped all of a sudden.

she turned to you and her frown broke, a splitting grin like gaz’s spread to flash the gap between her front teeth and she used your hand to pull you close for a tight and warm hug; she cooed excitedly in your ear as she swayed side to side with you still pressed close.

“we’ve been wanting to meet you ever since kyla first mentioned her new friend,” she said and finally let you go to sit down.

“mama,” gaz groaned a little embarrassedly, sitting next to you. her arm slipped to rest on the back of your chair.

“oh calm down, kyla,” jasmine tutted teasingly, swatting a jingling hand over the table at her.

you turned to her and mouthed, ‘yeah, kyla.’

she pouted but managed to hold back a second groan. menace, she thought fondly, a bashful smile tugging her pout loose.

“we were eager to see who caught our baby’s attention enough to be pulling extra shifts,” jasmine said before turning to gaz. “even tho she should be taking more breaks instead,” she finished pointedly at her daughter.

“i tell her this all the time! she works so hard,” you agreed immediately, nudging gaz’s side as if to say, ‘see?’

“not you too, honey, please. i get enough of it from my mum, i don’t need you siding with them.” gaz shrunk in her seat slightly, her hand drifted from your chair back and closer to your neck.

“‘honey’?” imani hummed, eyes bright and flicking between the pair of you with a knowing smile. “mhm.”

it was easy to see how gaz had grown to be so confident given the women she’d been raised by and the community of loving, intelligent women back in her home town that imani and jasmine spoke so fondly of like they were family. they were, really.

you spent the afternoon listening avidly as they told you about how they came to buy the bar with gaz after she finished what would be her second and final tour in the military; their hurdles when getting it set up; how much they missed her at home but loved seeing her grow and thrive here.

kyla reached out and squeezed her mums’ hands at that and you rubbed her back when you saw the glassy shine to her eyes.

“you know i’ll come back to visit soon,” she promised them. “i’m not waiting ‘til christmas again this time,” she huffed.

“your aunties will give you hell if you do,” imani warned with a wink.

“i was thinking of getting a taper and line up since these have grown in a little more anyway, and ty would kill me if she found out i went to anyone else when i could’ve seen her for it,” gaz said with a chuckle, gesturing to her locs. “i won’t leave it long.”

satisfied with her promise of future plans, her mums took advantage of their small audience and for the rest of the conversation showed you photo after photo on their phones of gaz growing up. a photo of her open-mouth smiling with her front teeth missing as a child; dressed in a small, ill-fitting suit at her prom; stood with three men in uniform, her hair shorn shorter then but with the familiar cap on her head; a picture with her mums’, this one more recent, with jasmine wearing a graduation cap and gown stood, in between to the two masculine women.

even as gaz pretended to sigh and groan in embarrassment at the memories shared, you could tell she was enjoying herself. that even if you weren’t wowing her mums like you’d imagined, your first impression had still been a good one.

you spent the afternoon with them and it was only when your stomach grumbled, having only grabbed a small lunch before setting off to meet gaz so you weren’t late, that the conversation stopped. all three women turned to you in concern and you flushed hot under the heavy attention.

“oh kyla, you dragged the poor girl over here and now she’s starving to death,” imani tutted.

“take her out for an early dinner,” jasmine said, deciding your time together was finished. “we’ll meet you back home later, there’s a few things we wanted to do before the evening anyway.”

gaz turned to you with a hopeful glint in her eyes. “wanna go grab some food? my treat.”

you nodded.

“that settles it!” imani pulled you into another long, tight hug when she stood to leave, rubbing the tops of your arms and smiling at you. “it was lovely to meet you, i can see why she’s so smitten,” she said, causing your stomach to flip and your smile to falter momentarily before widening again bashfully.

gaz was too busy grinning at her mum to hear her mama gossip, and you smiled softly at the pair as jasmine cupped her daughters cheeks and pet the soft skin beneath her eyes gently. jasmine looked the gentlest she had all afternoon, her edges softened.

she turned to you and you expected her gaze to harden a little like it had when she’d sat opposite you across the table, but she stayed soft and took your hands in hers while imani pulled gaz down for a kiss on the cheek and the forehead.

“you’re not what i’d expected,” she admitted, then moved her hand to pull our your moon necklace from beneath your shirt. her smile became knowing and satisfied, like she’d confirmed what she’d already thought true. “have a lovely dinner.”

“thank you,” you said and let her pull you in for a quick hug. “you too.”

you waved as gaz led the pair out, lingering only for a moment at the door before turning back to you.

“got a place in mind?” you asked, grabbing your jacket and bag.

“how does thai sound?” gaz asked as she opened the door for you again.

“perfect.”

——

“so you were in the military?” you asked as you ate. gaz nodded and put her chopsticks down as she spoke about her time with the 141.

“they’re still in the service but they visit when they can,” she said with a shrug. “that’s reminded me actually, johnny should be down soon enough. pretty sure he mentioned having a few weeks of leave coming up. he’s a bit full on, like a puppy, but you’d get on with him.”

you snorted. “i can’t wait to meet him.”

gaz laughed along with you as a warm, gooey feeling spread in her chest.

you walked back to her bar afterwards and lingered outside for a moment.

“want to come in?”

you shook your head. “i shouldn’t. work night and i’ve got laundry to put away when i get back.”

“ooh exciting,” she teased.

you stubbed the toe of your trainer against hers with a roll of your eyes.

“i had fun, we should do this again,” you said.

“yeah, we should,” she stepped a little closer. “thanks for coming to meet my mums, they’ve been hounding me about it.”

“oh really?” you asked with raised eyebrows and an expectant smirk.

gaz licked her lips and nodded. “yeah.”

you noticed her lidded eyes and slow breathing and sucked up the courage to make a move. you lifted a hand to rest on her hip and began to lean in to kiss her, when her eyes widened and she stepped back.

your hand hung in the air for a damning second before dropping.

“sorry, i should get inside. people will be arriving soon and i’m behind on the opening procedure because of dinner, need to cut some lemons,” she joked weakly.

“right,” you agreed faintly. “uhm, of course. sorry. i’ll see you around then.”

“i’ll text,” she said before slipping inside.

you stood there for a moment, a heavy frown settling in as dread and regret pooled low in your stomach.

you turned on your feet and walked to where you’d parked your car and headed home with an uneasy feeling roiling in your gut.

had you read it all wrong? had gaz ever really given you a signal that she was into you or where you only suddenly confident in her interest after her mums mentioned it teasingly?

you spent the evening pissed off and frustrated at yourself, roughly folding your laundry and when you were still full of an anxious energy after you’d finished, you vacuumed, changed your bedding and wiped down all of your kitchen until it was sparkling.

you collapsed on your sofa hours later with an exhausted sigh but when you closed your eyes that nervous energy still buzzed under your skin. so much for an early night before work.

“fuuuuuck it,” you threw yourself back up onto your feet and stormed to the front door, shoving on your shoes, grabbing your jacket and your keys and leaving without a second thought to how sweaty and unkempt you looked after your manic cleaning spree.

you arrived at the bar and bit your lip when you saw how busy it was, unusual for a sunday night, but maybe there was a bank holiday you were unaware of. it wasn’t as if your work gave you them off.

you pushed through the crowd and leant against the bar, waiting for gaz to notice you.

her eyes widened and her lips twitched up in a smile, faltering when you only frowned back.

“what’s up?” she asked, concern slowly bleeding into her tone.

“have i been reading this wrong?” you asked bluntly, not wanting to skirt around the topic any longer. you gestured between the two of you. “have i been pushing for something you don’t want?”

gaz shook her head and put the glass bottle she was holding down on the bar top with a thunk. her eyes were sad as she swallowed and she looked at her coworker behind the bar serving the crowd before deciding she had a moment to spare.

“full disclosure? i’m ace,” she said with a shrug. “and i guess i’ve felt like i’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop with you.”

“oh.” you nodded. she nodded too, looking resigned. “‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’, you like me that much, huh?” you grinned and she looked taken aback. “does being ace mean you don’t like kissing?”

gaz blinked before stuttering out a reply. “n-no i do, i just— it’s the rest of it i could go without.”

you nodded again and tapped your fingers on the bar as you pushed closer, your stomach pressing into the wood.

“were you going to kiss me earlier? outside?” you gestured to the front door and bit your lip.

“yeah,” she said softly, her eyes dipping to you mouth before flitting between your eyes.

“because you like me?”

“yeah, babes,” she laughed.

“and i like you,” you confirmed eagerly, excitedly, as she leant in on her elbows.

she slowly grinned, her piercing shifting and glinting under the smoky lights. “yeah.”

“great. well. stop me if i’m wrong then.” you leant over the last few inches of the bar and kissed her, cupping her face with one hand and using the other to balance yourself. you felt her own hand trail along the back of your hand as she kissed back fervently.

“met your bloody mums and then you had me thinking i was going crazy for thinking you wanted this,” you grumbled when she pulled back for a second.

“i’ll make it up to you,” she promised with a peck to your lips again. “prickly pear?”

your eyes brightened and your pour was immediately replaced with a grin.

“oh, yes please!” you tapped your hands on the bar again, no longer full of an anxious energy but an excited one instead.

gaz leant in for another quick kiss, her lips twisting into a fond smile against yours. when she pulled back she lifted a hand to your ear and twisted it, revealing an orange slice held between her fingers.

“christ, it’s unfair how sexy that is,” you whined. “but that better not be the one going in my drink.”

butch/stud masterlist

and the moodboard!

[rosenclaws]

Heey! I think your requests are closed, but when you open them, do you think you could write about Logan (any variant) with a reader who has a bad relationship with food? I kinda need the comfort right now, I have to eat to survive, but I hardly ever want to eat, and when I do I feel guilty about it, specially if it's not something super healthy or low cal.

I think Logan would be a really good partner and show support, make sure his partner eats well or doesn't slip meals and even cooks for them :')

Hi! Absolutely I can, I understand what you're going through and I want to know that you're loved and you have my full support <3 I picked origins Logan for this, he just gives off the softest vibes and would be a completely supportive and sweet partner. It's a little short and I apologize but I hope it helps <33

warnings: eating disorder/bad relationship with food, please don't read if this would possibly trigger you

Logan could tell something was off from the moment he walked through the door. His stomach rumbled as he smelled whatever delicious meal you were making for dinner. As he entered the kitchen he saw you pulling a pan out of dinner. Lasagna, his favorite.

"Smells fucking amazing," He purrs as he wraps his hands around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He still smells like pine needle and dirt from work. Normally he doesn't get back till way past dinner time but today was an easy day. How lucky he gets to eat dinner with the love of his life huh?

"Logan! You scared me." You huff as you gently push his arms off your body.

"Go clean up dinners almost ready." He frowns as you shoo him away.

Lately things have just felt off. You smiled and laughed like you always do but there were little things that just didn't feel right. Especially around meal times.

"Okay sweetheart, I'll be right back." Logan can't help but wonder what could possibly be wrong.

Are you sick? Is something bothering you? If so why wouldn't you tell him? Worries start to invade his thoughts. What could be going on that you can't even go to him about it? After a quick shower and a change of clothes he heads back to the kitchen. Only to see one plate of food sitting on the counter.

"I made it with the sauce you like, not the off brand one." You say with a smile but Logan's worry remains. He sits at the counter and takes the plate.

"Where's yours?" He asks. Your face falls for just a second. Anyone else would have missed it but not Logan. Not when it comes to you.

"Not hungry." You try and play it off, pushing the plate closer but Logan grabs your wrist.

"Logan, I had a big lunch. I'll eat later." You try and tug out of Logan's grip but he remains firm. Never enough to hurt you but enough to keep you there. To keep you from running away.

"I don't believe you. In fact, I've barely seen you eat anything in the last couple months."

The memories come flooding back. He's seen you eat, but its never much and it's always healthy. Shame starts to creep into his bones as he realizes he's failed to put the pieces together. All this time.

"Please sweetheart, whatever is going on you can tell me." Tears start to well up in your eyes as Logan speaks.

You never meant for him to find out. You thought you could handle this on your own. You had been so careful and eat just enough so that he never caught on. But the truth is you're exhausted. Food is nothing more that a means to survive. Everyday you force yourself to eat just enough and no more. Its been exhausting. Especially if the food you eat is too many calories or just plain unhealthy.

Logan almost jumps across the counter the moment he sees the tears, fearing the worst. He abandons his dinner in favor of wrapping you in his arms on the couch. Cooing softly as you cry and explain everything to him. He doesn't say a word, he just listens. Rubbing your back and letting you soak his shirt with tears.

When you're done you prepare for the worst. What if Logan leaves? I mean it would certainly be easier for him to not have to deal with. All of this. But he doesn't. With gentle hands he cups your face and dries your tears.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles. Sorry that he didn't notice sooner and sorry you've been carrying this for so long.

"Are you mad?" You ask quietly.

"No, of course not." Logan presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Listen honey, this isn't healthy." He knows that you know that but its not as easy as just a flip of a switch to change habits that had been built for years.

"I'm going to be with you every step of the way alright?" He says, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. He wants you to know that he truly means every word.

"Okay," Logan pulls you into a tight hug, whispering sweet words over and over. He wishes he could take all your pain away in an instant. He'd bear it for you without even asking, but he can't.

But he stays true to his promise. Logan is there when you need him, to remind you to eat and taking it upon himself to make meals for you and with you. Some days were harder than others but Logan carried the weight you couldn't.

Things still aren't easy, but with Logan by your side you think you might be able to do anything.

[zepskies]

Ooooh I LOVE the movie RED!!! ❤️ Karl Urban's fight with Bruce Willis is so freakin' iconic. 🤩 I'm already in, babes. Let's dive in.~

Ahh the "hear me out" thing is so relatable lmao. But Marlin?! Really?! 🤣🤣

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Oh God, you're giving me Vietnam War-level flashbacks to undergrad when I was stuck until 12 am at the library working on essays and shiz. 🫠

“And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!” “The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her. 

GIRL PLSSS. 💀💀💀 Not "daddy gorilla." 🤣

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were. 

Okay, lmfao. I'ma need you to stop calling me out like this. 😂😂

But I so love the description of Russell -- he's a man in a sea of man-boys our age, and there's a distinct difference. 😏

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze. “Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar. His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea. “Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm. 

LMFAO. Reading this snippet in context is of course even better. I'm dying but also she would so be me in this situation. 😝

“Rain.” Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

OMG YESSSSS. Lmfao Rain was beautiful! And I love that you referenced one of my favorite movies. 😆😆 Totally agree that Nala had bedroom eyes. And I raise you Robin Hood from the Disney movie! They did NOT have to draw him that sexy.

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his. The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it.  “That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

😐😧🤭

Miss ma'am!! Don't make me bring out the Out of Order gif again! I had to fan myself when he literally caught her hand. Dear Lord. 🫠

Also, the way I was so shocked and literally laughed out loud at the way she headbutted him. 🤣 Honestly that would probably be me trying to flirt. A+ casting 😂👌🏽

But again, that spice and the way he kissed her melted me like the Wicked Witch of the West. ❤️‍🔥

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.” 

lmaooo sage advice! 😂

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA.  You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die.  “Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

LOL I love her inner monologue. She's so adorkable, but I'm already getting the RED vibes omggg. 🙏🏽

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t.

It's the little things I love loll. 🤌🏽

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.” “Why?” He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.” 

Not me feeling sorry for him right now when she's well within her right to try and beat him with a pink baseball bat. 🤣🤣🤣

I was smiling so hard while reading the rest of this. I was actually so disappointed to get to the end! This was one helluva meet cute, hun. 💜

The thing about your one-shots is that they feel like the start of a series--of an amazing adventure that's about to start. I know you have probably a million WIPs at this point lol, but this does feel like a RED kind of movie and I would love to see more of these two if you ever feel so inspired. ✨

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary:  When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar. 

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same. 

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over. 

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din. 

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch. 

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement. 

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her. 

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it. 

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot. 

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay. 

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called. 

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed. 

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide. 

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!” 

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about. 

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were. 

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight. 

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger. 

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar. 

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown. 

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver. 

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile. 

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her. 

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious. 

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing. 

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam. 

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand. 

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth. 

You try not to be jealous. 

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago. 

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot. 

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering. 

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. 

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. 

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm. 

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table. 

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in. 

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.” 

Smooth real smooth. 

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now. 

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again. 

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier. 

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze. 

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard. 

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him. 

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are. 

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing. 

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire. 

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off. 

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces. 

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?” 

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life. 

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit. 

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did. 

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say. 

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown. 

“Me too.” You sigh. 

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?” 

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.” 

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it. 

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-” 

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat. 

I am so out of practice. 

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile. 

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat. 

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.” 

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours. 

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.” 

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life. 

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?” 

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight? 

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave. 

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test. 

Worst seduction technique ever. 

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.” 

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past. 

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him. 

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes. 

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.” 

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door. 

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell. 

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation. 

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.” 

“Aww babe.” Liza says. 

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.” 

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind. 

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him. 

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.” 

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him. 

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong. 

You didn’t think that you would need it. 

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.” 

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did. 

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door. 

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.” 

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song. 

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove. 

Why didn’t I ask him for his name? 

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.” 

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class. 

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester. 

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class. 

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend. 

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her. 

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen. 

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship. 

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer. 

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter. 

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car. 

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon. 

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy. 

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible. 

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate. 

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement. 

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground. 

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird. 

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward. 

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back. 

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar. 

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting. 

The image comes into focus. 

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder. 

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy. 

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag. 

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him. 

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!” 

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!” 

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA. 

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die. 

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing. 

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people? 

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that? 

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is  holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing. 

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you. 

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little. 

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke. 

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley. 

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him. 

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you. 

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with. 

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates. 

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings. 

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun. 

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it? 

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight. 

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding. 

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once. 

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream. 

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage. 

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.  

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men. 

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and- 

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other. 

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible. 

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise. 

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!” 

“I’m not a murderer.” 

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack. 

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.” 

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours. 

That’s obviously a fake name. 

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m  Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print. 

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration. 

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one. 

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together. 

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!” 

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing. 

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him. 

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him. 

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices. 

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him. 

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you. 

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.” 

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him. 

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong. 

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

[oceansoul001]

So it's been around two weeks now since I've finished Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, and to tell you all that there has not been a single day that I haven't thought about this game would be such a big understatement. Cause I'm not sure there has been a single hour that I'm awake that I haven't thought about it. And it's so weird! Let me explain.

I mean, it's not atypical for me to be fascinated by a piece of culture, be it a game, a movie, a tv series, a book, whatever. But this, this is something else, on a completely different level, and for the love of everything I just can't explain it! Maybe two weeks it's still super fresh, maybe it's because I'm now still playing the first KCD, what keeps me within this world, but I find myself constantly going back to thinking about it, about the story, about the characters, and most of all of course about Henry & Hans, and how special they feel to me.

It is particularly weird with Henry, because he is this strange amalgam of a written character and a player character, a sort-of-my-avatar in this world, but at the same time quite defined. I cannot compare this balance to any other game protagonist really, every other (that I know of) was either one or another, with my preference being always the custom character with some defined characteristics - meaning custom looks and gender, even if the backstory or a general vibe was not changeable (like, let's say, a Dark Urge in BG3 is for me a custom character, even if some crucial parts of them are well defined). But Henry's not like that, he always looks like Henry and sounds like Henry. At the same time, the flexibility of how he can react to the world is wider than with a typical written character. And even if within the game story we cannot actually change or influence what happens, generally the same things in the main plot always happen to my Henry and to your Henry, I think we can still differ in interpretation, what it actually means for MY Henry, and it can differ from what it means for YOUR Henry. And neither of us would be incorrect.

Some people might compare this maybe to the Witcher series, which is probably the closest, yes, but for me it's still completely different. I never WAS Geralt in my heart in any game from the trilogy. I played as Geralt, I made some choices, I picked a romance, I was immersed in the stories etc, but it was always the same Geralt to me, one and established character, not MY character. Maybe because he was first and foremost the book character in my head, and much later a video game protagonist, so it might feel different for other people, but I never had with him this weird fluid feeling of being him and not being him when I played the games. And I have it with Henry. I don't know if it makes any sense at all to anybody beside me.

And with Henry, it feels different, it feels as if I partially were Henry, when I played; I would not ask myself "Hmm, what would Henry do in this situation", it was rather "What would I do", with me being Henry at that point. With me taking over the emotions that my Henry would feel at a given moment. This again might feel as a regular thing for some people, who immerse themselves easily into defined protagonists, but it is not typical for me. And I tell you more - I have this... Thing... That it is much more difficult for me to find my own voice in a male protagonist. I can love them and root for them, of course, but it is like watching a movie or reading a book. Not "becoming" them when I'm playing as them in a video game.

I'm this kind of RPG player that always, like ALWAYS, plays as a female character, if I have a choice. I've never thought about it much, or why it's that way, but it is something I am very conscious about. And with Henry it's somehow different, it's like the way he is written and presented leaves still a place for me to blend in somewhere as well, despite the fact that he actually has an unchangeable face and an unchangeable voice. ...Or maybe it is partially because of that? Meaning that Henry is NOT your 'typical male video game protagonist', thank gods. But it cannot be just that, as there are definitely more characters in other games that do not fall into this category as well, and they don't leave me with the same feeling Henry does. I cannot explain it any better I'm afraid, I just feel this special connection between myself as a player and Henry as a protagonist that I have not felt before. And it makes him so, so special to me.

With Hans it is much easier to explain of course. Everyone loves Hans. He is funny, and witty, and cocky, and caring, and emotional, and vulnerable, and yes, he is sometimes self-absorbed, but he is also this pure, naive idealist - I LOVE the part when he says to Brabant that the role of the nobility is to protect the people they rule over, because I know that he genuinely believes that! He is this type of character that I always feel the need to protect, even if he doesn't need it actually at a given moment. Like in the framework of the game, when I AM Henry, I would gladly carry him over any puddle, so that he always stays safe, and warm, and comfy, and I would die for him no questions asked at any given point, even if it meant like the worst possible game ending for me as a player. Have I already mentioned that I love Hans?

But there is also one more layer, the layer that in my head is simply labeled as "Henry&Hans", together. And this is probably THE weirdest part to explain from all of this babbling. But I've got to try. So generally, when it comes to romances in fiction, I would say that yes, I enjoy a good romance, I really like when it is part of a story, I root for characters that I like to get together. But I rarely think about it outside of enjoying said fiction. I am usually not much of a shipper, don't read fanfictions, don't download fanarts, etc. I am now trying to recall when was the last time that I was really, like REALLY invested in a fictional ship, and I don't know, I think it might have been in 2017, when The Last Jedi premiered, and I was immensely angry that Rey and Kylo Ren didn't get together. It was freaking 8 years ago!

It is a bit different when it comes to romances in video games with customizable protagonists, because in that case I don't only expect to be immersed, I demand to be immersed, so to speak, if this is supposed to work. I need to feel something, anything, to be engaged in a romance that I am supposed to be an active part of, meaning choosing a character to romance, picking dialogue options, enjoying interactions, etc. And it happens quite rare. Most of romances in video games are just an additional mechanic of a sort, and choosing "I am going to romance this character" is not much different than "I am going to buy this ship/horse/base", or less harshly "I am going to make all squad mates loyal to me", not necessarily because I like all of them equally, but because it is possible within the game, so why not.

The video game romances that truly got to me were of course mostly the ones that had some good writing behind it, or great acting, or an interesting angle. I loved my Astarion romance during my first BG3 playthrough, because it ticked all the categories mentioned above, but also something beyond that. And I never loved any other of the romances from BG3 to the same degree, even though most of them are truly great and I really enjoyed playing through them. I loved my Solas romance in DAI (and in DATV even), because it was so different, it mostly wasn't even there so to say, like it was probably the least of romance content possible to even have a romance, but it touched something in me. And... No, that's that, that were the only ones that I had feelings and emotions about as a me-player, not just as a character I am pretending to be. Up till now.

So, with Henry&Hans romance, to jump from one digression to another digression, because who is reading all this at this point anyway, for quite some time I didn't even know, and later didn't fully believe, that is in the game. I started to play KCD2 around two weeks before it premiered, and all I've heard at this point was that there is potentially some gay romance that some people were rioting about, but I didn't even care much. You see, coming back to my previous notes about not being really immersed into male protagonists, because I am not male, it was always the same, or even more true, with romances - I was actually really immersed only into romances where I can play as a female character and I can romance a male character of my choosing. Because that is how it works in my life as well. Imagine my surprise when I'm playing through this medieval simulator about some guys engaging in some politics and shit, not expecting that this is soon going to be one of the most important games in my life, and then suddenly getting smitten by these two. It was when we got to Trosky, I remember it clearly, and they told me that I have now twelve bell tolls to save Hans. MY HANS! I mean, not mine at that point, really. At that point what I felt was probably sadness, because I was sure, oh I was so sure, that they would never let us romance Hans, are you kidding me? Like two main characters that have a history together, that are actually connected to one another throughout the whole story? With Hans being present in the game as his own, fully fledged character, with his own story arc, being already our best friend? Not being in the game to serve the one purpose of being a romanceable character? And to top it all, with like two guys?! I believe I am quite media-literate, so to say, have consumed my portion of different arts, and I just know it won't happen, it can't happen. It would be a contradiction to everything we have known so far. This kind of ships happen only in our imagination, in our fanfics, in our fanarts. So I didn't even dwell on it much.

And then came the ride to Nebakov, the first in game moment when you see this dialogue option with a heart icon next to it, and what the hell, am I just imagining things? I kid you not, for the next week my mind was living in this prison of "are they fucking Hans-baiting me; I won't forgive them if they are", because I simply couldn't believe that this is actually possible, that this could be our romance option, a meaningful one!

So it was probably all of the above, finally a meaningful romance, not just something slapped on a game with a plot as a separate thing, finally a meaningful character, not a "romanceable character", but a main character with a possible romance, if you get what I'm trying to say. A character that I've already started to love. And with this incomprehensible thing of me becoming Henry when I'm playing, it clicked. It clicked as nothing else ever did in the fiction that I've experienced so far.

And now I'm sitting here, a woman in her late 30s, not queer, thinking about these two fictional guys and their fictional love, like every day, and what it means to me as a person, and I just can't!!! The weirdest feeling ever. But a wholesome one, I think.

Thank you, if for some reason you've decided to read through this, I promise that I am not crazy, or at least I thought so up till this point. Now... not so sure. I needed to vent it all somewhere, somehow, and this is probably like the only place on the internet where I won't feel very bad about spilling it all out.

[bvrnesher]

hello may i have a percy jackson x mortal reader (fluff because there too much angst with this trope) when the reader discover that he is a demigod, freak out but after annoy the heck of him asking him question about his power his family. established relationship :) please

۶ৎ — Fish Out of Water !

tap here for chb masterlists ! reqs open

Warnings: short as f ! humor, fluff, mild panic, percy struggling with too many questions, reader being way too curious about his powers.

ㅤ୨ৎ —˳ percy jackson ! mortal reader

Summary: percy never planned to spend his afternoon explaining his demigod status to you—especially not after you witnessed him slay a monster. Cue panic, existential crisis, and way too many questions.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗬 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗔 lot of things from today. Maybe a pop quiz. Maybe some monster-related disaster. Maybe even a surprise date with you if he was lucky.

What he had not expected was you finding out he was a demigod in the worst way possible.

"Percy," you said, voice a little too calm, a little too thin, "why is that thing exploding into dust?"

He turned, saw the remains of the monster he’d just stabbed fading into nothing, and winced. "Uh."

"And why," you continued, eyes wild, "did it try to eat me?"

Percy shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, so. Funny story—"

"Funny? Funny?" You threw your hands in the air. "Percy, that was a monster! A real, actual monster! That tried to kill me! And you just—" You made an exaggerated stabbing motion. "—like it was normal!?"

He winced. "I mean… it kind of is?"

You blinked. "I'm sorry. What."

So, yeah. Explaining that your very normal, very human boyfriend was actually not normal or human at all? Not how Percy had planned to spend his afternoon.

The initial freak-out was… intense. There was yelling. Pacing. Wild gestures. At one point, you threatened to "check him for gills" just to make sure he wasn’t secretly a fish.

But then—because of course—you started asking questions.

Too many questions.

"Wait, so when you say Poseidon is your dad, do you mean, like, biologically? Or is it more of a ‘divine vibes’ situation?"

"It’s weird."

You squinted. "So, if we have kids, they’ll be, what? Quarter-gods?"

Percy choked. "We are not—" He waved wildly. "—having this conversation right now."

"Okay, fine, whatever," you said, waving him off. "But, like. Can you breathe underwater?"

"Yeah."

"Can you talk to dolphins?"

"Yes."

"Can you control dolphins? Because that would be so cool—"

"No, I cannot summon an army of dolphins."

You looked vaguely disappointed. "Okay, but what if—"

Percy groaned, tipping his head back. "You are never letting this go, are you?"

"Absolutely not," you said cheerfully. "So. Do you glow when you're wet, or—"

"Oh my gods, shut up," he whined, taking you by the chin to silence you with a kiss. His lips met yours with that softness and carefree manner characteristic of Percy, while he placed his free hand on your lower back with the sole purpose of bringing you closer to him.

You let yourself melt in the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck just before a smile formed on your lips. In the middle of the kiss, you managed to mumble, "A fish is kissing me?"

The words came out with the pure purpose of annoying Percy, and he growled into the kiss. "I hate you."

It was going to be a long day.

──﹙xoxo, s﹚

[utilitycaster]

can you explain what you mesn by monkey ladder in reference to the CR fandom? as someone from C1 i would probably be able to give you the insight you asked for in your tags but im unsure of the angle you are coming from.

Oh yeah, it describes a phenomenon I've repeatedly seen in all aspects of my life but I wasn't aware there was an idiom for it. Basically, it describes how communities/institutions continue following patterns of behavior even when said behaviors are in response to a no-longer relevant problem and even when the people who originated said behaviors and remember the original reason are gone.

So: imagine an experiment with five monkeys, a ladder, and bananas on top of the ladder. Whenever a monkey goes for the ladder to reach the bananas, a researcher sprays all the monkeys with ice water. After enough attempts, the monkeys, understandably, begin attacking any one of them that reaches for the ladder in order to avoid this punishment.

The researchers then swap out one of the monkeys for a new monkey. When the new monkey reaches for the ladder, the other monkeys attack them and prevent them from reaching it.

They then swap out another monkey, and when the second new monkey reaches for the ladder, not only do the other monkeys attack them - the first "new" monkey joins in. And so on. Eventually, you can reach a point where all five monkeys in the room have never even been sprayed with ice water. They don't know why they are attacking people who reach for the ladder other than that they were attacked for reaching for the ladder. And here's the kicker: the researchers haven't sprayed anyone in ages, and actually, they've turned off the water, and if someone reached for the ladder, they'd be fine. But they won't.

So it's about groups enforcing behaviors that arose in response to something specific that is no longer present, even after the group no longer recalls, necessarily, why it was present.

Anyway: as someone with the specific experience of watching campaign 1 and early campaign 2 concurrently, having started with Campaign 2, ie, joined the fandom in Campaign 2 and have been here ever since, the following viewpoints are all imo "monkey-ladder" problems: people carrying forward stereotypes/fandom behaviors that I think originated in Campaign 1 but which many new fans never actually experienced:

specifically the one I mentioned in my previous post - the idea that Sam and Travis make stupid joke characters and aren't taking this seriously. (This sometimes splits into Sam Makes Dumb Joke Characters And Travis Is Himself A Stupid Person. The latter has fortunately abated but it was still alive and kicking as late as early C3)

The idea that Marisha and Laura; or Taliesin and Liam, make characters with exceptional romantic chemistry with each other. (They didn't have this in C1 either; while chemistry is obviously a subjective metric I find these specifically two of the weakest cases of cast romantic chemistry and definitely the two weakest of same gender cast romantic chemistry but they were held up as the only viable PC/PC queer romances given that Ashley was often absent, Grog wasn't interested, and people wrote off Scanlan as a dumb joke and Tary came around after Percy and Vex were already together)

Any criticism of Marisha is Forbidden Forever due to the harassment she received in C1 (we got monkeys who joined the fandom mid-C3 beating up people who were like I'm Not Vibing With Laudna who had been staunch Keyleth defenders during the actual run of C1, for example)

I'm sure there's others that aren't coming to mind but this is a good starting point: basically, it's people who weren't in the fandom in C1 and might not even have seen Campaign 1 carrying over opinions that really only made sense in Campaign 1 and honestly weren't even good then.

For a fun interrogation of this (carryover of an opinion/behavior with no other reason than This Is What I Was Told When I Joined) within the context of an actual play, see Iga Lisowski in The Unsleeping City 2.

[stuckonmark]

accidents. mark lee

19. road trip fun

you had no clue what you were in for. a random ski trip didn’t sound too bad, but of course mark being there changed things. while you were packing, winter was yapping about how excited she was. winter and haechan had planned the trip together, so they had a lot of bonding activites for everyone.

everyone had slowly started making their way to your dorm. the boys helped put everyone’s luggage into the trunk. seeing mark definitely made you uncomfortable. you couldn’t explain the feeling, but you just wanted to be chill and didn’t want to ruin the vibe for everyone.

“alright everyone! let’s hop in the car and get this trip started!” haechan was holding onto his stuffed animal, as he screamed in excitement.

“wait what’s the seating arrangement?” jaemin asked, as everyone gathered towards the car. “well i decided that jeno drives because he’s good at it and jaemin will be his right hand man for directions. it makes sense for the girls to sit in the middle because y’know, they’re the tiniest, which leaves me and mark in the back.” everyone agreed and were about to get in before haechan stopped everyone. “but unfortunately, i do get motion sickness, so yn, would you be a dear and sit in the back with mark.”

haechan was batting his eyelashes at you, while everyone had awkwardly looked back at you, obviously knowing some odd tension was going on between you and mark. “uh yeah, it’s fine.” as much as you didn’t want to sit with mark, you just wanted everyone to have fun. it’s not like you and mark would have to talk the whole ride. it shouldn’t be a big deal.

you and mark climbed into the back seat and placed your things by your feet. everyone followed suit and then y’all were on the road. the car ride started off with singing sessions and laughter, but that was not enough to keep y’all energized for a three hour car ride. eventually, everyone began to doze off, jaemin having small talk with jeno up front to keep him awake, haechan snoring on winter’s shoulder, and karina watching a kdrama with her noise cancelling headphones.

you were too busy texting eric to see what mark was doing. you and eric had been texting for a few days and getting to know each other. you were starting to grow a liking for eric. he was sweet and fun to talk to. you hadn’t noticed, but mark was taking a glance at your phone to see what was making you smile from ear to ear.

“who are you texting?” mark asked, nudging your shoulder.

you scooted away from him and glared at him. “nobody.” you turned your body away from him, so that your back was facing him. you didn’t know it, but mark was feeling an odd feeling that he’d never felt before. he wanted to know what was so special about this eric guy.

you had finally reached your destination after three hours. although everyone had been half asleep in the car, everyone was filled with excitement and awe when they saw the ski resort. “damn, haechan. your dad is loaded.” everyone quickly grabbed their things and headed inside. there were three rooms inside: jeno and jaemin shared a room with two twin beds, mark and haechan got the room with the queen sized bed, and you, winter, and karina got the master bedroom with the king sized bed.

“wouldn’t it make sense that i get the master bedroom since this is MY dad’s ski resort-” winter had smacked haechan’s head before he got to finish his sentence. “oh get over it. it’s better to be a gentlemen.”

the night was filled with so much fun. you guys had started to grill meat and brought out the drinks. sitting on the floor together and eating felt more “homey” to y’all. this trip was starting to feel fun. it got your mind off mark.

“alright, it’s not a party if we’re not playing truth or drink~” haechan was too excited to keep his composure. he was the one starting all of the fun. at this point, everyone was starting to get a little hammered and tipsy. “hmm, jeno what’s your body count?” karina’s question sent ooo’s all around the room. jeno just shook his head and laughed. “or how about this, can you count your body count on both hands.” he took a second to think before he downed a shot, causing everyone to holler. “it’s not that bad..” “THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY IT!”

“okay, okay mark, who’s the last person you hooked up with?” haechan asked, as his face was red from the shots he was taking. it was evident that he was very drunk. the question left an awkward silence in the room and mark sent haechan a death glare, before he downed his drink.

“boo, you loser. everyone knows it was m-” jaemin hit haechan with a pillow, while everyone kind of glanced at you. of course it was embarrassing. everyone knew you and mark had something going on, and it pissed you off that haechan was instigating. you could feel mark looking at you and you were feeling uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die, but you didn’t want to ruin the mood. you decided to just take a shot. “c’mon, why are you guys being so lame?”

the night carried on with lots of karaoke and many drinks. you decided to let it take over you completely, trying to distract yourself from your real feelings about mark. at this point, you had no idea what was going on. all you knew was that someone was taking you into your room.

“ugh, mark. get off of me. i can walk by myself-” mark had caught you before you fell onto the floor. “just let me help you, yn.” he helped you get into bed and sat down next to you. “why are you even here, mark?” you were slurring your words. “why do you always take care of me? why are you so nice to me, but all you do is go around and hook up with people.” mark was left in silence and you scoffed. “you’re so confusing and i can never read you. you’re too busy with other girls anyways.” you looked towards mark, as he was looking right back at you.

“why don’t you like me, mark?” you looked into his eyes and down towards his lips, as you leaned closer to him. mark was completely flustered at the question, but before he could answer, you had fallen back onto the bed, sound asleep and pulling mark down with you.

previous — m.list — next

notes. this chapter was a little inspired by that one scene in x.o kitty 😭 the cringiness in the show makes it so good 💔 also accidents will be wrapping up pretty soon 🥲

taglist. open! @mmjhh1998 @haluenx @urlocalbeaner5 @cloudmrk @dudekiss3r @iluv7tn @jae-n0 @kikookii @remgeolli @lyleo @wumutititititi @kittydollzz @nctdreamchaser @kodasity @sibwol @worldwidecutiemaya @bbykaixx @luvsooby @luvvhaechan @awktwurtle @gomdoleemyson @morkiee @orangenbluetenbaum @fairyoflia @mxnhoeuwu

[thefandombringer]

Season 3 Milkvan is not nearly as cute as I remembered it being 4 years ago

So I’m rewatching s3 for the first time in a hot minute because I remembered that being the most milkvan heavy season but what I’ve realized in this rewatch is that there is not a single scene between Mike and El where Mike does not have to put up some sort of facade. We see a lot of Mike’s genuine character in the first two seasons, especially when he is happy (playing D&D with the party, spending time with his friends and Will) so we as an audience can tell that all the times where Mike appears happy in season 3—especially in scenes with El—are NOT Mike’s genuine personality.

Im not sure quite how to explain it, but the main scenes that come to mind are the opening scene with them making out in El’s bedroom, Mike’s phone call to El when he lies about his Nana, and the scene in the pool with that human dummy thing. Two of these are scenes where Mike is supposedly happy and joking around with El, but they have a very superficial vibe to them—which will be the first . I’m pretty sure that anyone can clock those moments if they watch those on their own but, as someone that does a lot of acting, mannerism and vocal inflection shifts are key when playing different characters. The way Mike holds himself and delivers his lines do not feel like the same Mike that we grew to know and love in the earlier seasons and, since Finn is obviously not a terrible actor (he is, in fact, quite a good actor), we as the audience are meant to realize that Mike is not being his true self or, in other words, playing another character. He can’t be his genuine self around El (which is also demonstrated very very clearly in season 4 but this shows that these issues did not come out of nowhere), which heavily contrasts the other significant relationships in the show, especially throughout season 3 (Jancy, Jopper, Lumax) who are their authentic selves with each other and are able to bicker and match each other’s energies while still very clearly loving each other. Milkvan is not like them, and not in a good way.

The second portion of this (and why I mentioned the phone call scene) is the fact that Mike talks to her like he has to dumb himself down/like she is much younger and unable to understand how he would talk to her normally. I really don’t has a way to describe this other than just recommending that you watch those scenes again to see what I mean. It’s obvious that he cares about her and really does enjoy talking to her, but in a way that I would talk to my younger siblings/cousins. Is this how a healthy relationship should seem? I certainly hope not. This is doubled by the fact where in that one interview (I have no idea where to find it so if someone has it please link it!!) Finn says that when he first met El, it was like taking in an alien like in ET. Again, not very romantic. It is also explicitly shown that this is not how everyone talks to El, so it’s not like she can’t understand the standard level of conversation. Such a big emphasis on El and Max’s friendship and the fact that Max treats El as an equal and helps her find her own personality instead of babying El and keeping her sheltered and controlled. She can be treated like a regular person and is so much better for it. She’s not you pet, Michael.

Notice how both of these major problems are never found between Mike and Will. All of their conversations and interactions within the show are 100% genuine and authentic and never feel superficial or forced. Their relationship is also taken much more seriously throughout the whole show when contrasted to Milkvan, but that’s a whole separate post. Mike and Will’s fights are serious and real, while Mike and El’s (with the exception of the “From Mike” fight, which is pretty telling) are comedic and surface level and played for laughs.

BYLER ENDGAME BYLER ENDGAME

[bluemantics]

Keith, as a son of Ares, always felt conflicted. When he, Shiro, and Matt first ran through Camp Half-Blood's borders, he was devastated as he watched Shiro turn into a fucking pine tree. Here was his adoptive brother, the only role model he’d ever had, and Shiro's all-powerful father could only "save" his life by turning him into a plant. He deserved better.

It made Keith a spiteful camper for the first few weeks he stayed in the Hermes cabin. So spiteful, in fact, that he took out five Apollo kids in the first half hour of capture the flag. As he stood there in that godsdamned forest and panted over the groaning forms of his fellow campers, a fiery boar appeared above his head.

Matt congratulated him, while Ares cabin immediately staked their claim with aggressive back thumps. Matt had already been claimed the day after they’d entered camp as a son of Athena.

“War bros!” Matt cheered, forcibly fist bumping Keith, who wasn’t nearly as excited about that association.

Despite all the distractions that camp had to offer, Keith could never truly leave behind that orphanage he and Shiro had grown up in. He couldn’t forget the firm, guiding hand on his shoulder or the warm grey eyes that crackled uniquely in certain lights when he did something good. Shiro had made him want to be a better person, even after all the hardships they'd endured.

Keith didn’t care about being good anymore, though. He just wanted his brother back. And to do that, he’d need the attention of Zeus himself.

From what Keith heard, that could only be obtained by true heroes who were worthy of the gods’ blessing. Heroes completed quests.

Keith needed a quest.

Allura, however, had other plans. The graceful centaur explained that the oracle informed her of a special demigod who would be chosen to lead Keith’s quest.

Unfortunately, Keith Kogane was known for being a loner at camp. Even his cabinmates discovered that it was practically impossible to work as a team with Keith, who despite being powerful, often charged recklessly into exercises without much care for those around him (or himself).

To say Keith wasn’t thrilled at his quest being dependent on another person was… well, an understatement. It only got worse when he first laid eyes on the gangly, injured demigod who had allegedly defeated a Minotaur before even setting foot in Camp. Keith stared down at the sleeping boy with an expression of pure disdain, unemotional. The boy stirred and blinked his eyes half open.

“You drool when you sleep,” Keith flatly intoned. The boy just smiled, still barely conscious.

“You have a mullet.”

And with that rousing statement, he passed out again and started to snore. Keith wrinkled his nose. If this guy was actually who his hopes were riding on, he was incredibly fucked.

Shoutout to @tamaytsuki whose PJO AU reminded me of this ficlet I had stored in the depths of my old writing! Their PJO AU has such good vibes

I alsooooo have a part 2 to this

[julieverne]

Cailin watches Jane.

Cailin is no detective; she's not even a doctor. But the situation at home--a babysitter for a full adult.

What happened with Maura really did a number on Hope, Cailin knows that intellectually, but she still resents Hope for the ever-tightening grip Hope had on her. She's so afraid to lose another daughter, even though she got the last one back. Has both of them now, because of Maura's kidney. Cailin touches her stomach, over the scar. Maura is part of her now, but they've never been further apart.

Maura hadn't exactly offered. Cailin had ignored the social cues that Maura exhibited; anxiety, nervousness. She hadn't ignored the way Jane's hand had touched Maura's lower back to steady her, to offer support.

She's not here because of the babysitter--well, not just because of the babysitter. She's nineteen, she can take care of herself. She rolls her eyes, even though she's alone. She's here because she wants to know for sure whether Jane is her sister in law or just a really hot woman obsessed with her sister.

Cailin gets it. Maura has the Martin genes; she's gorgeous. Cailin isn't sure she wouldn't be obsessed with Maura if she didn't know they were related. Well, she is, but not the way Jane is obsessed with her. Cailin wants to know more about her sister; Jane wants to eat Maura with her eyes.

She settles back on the bed, tucking one arm under her head. Jane had been here when she got home from the library. Maura hadn't called the police when she hadn't checked in this time. Cailin feels kind of bad about that; she probably should have texted last time too. She knows Maura's job is to pick apart the last moments of women who stayed late at libraries or even stayed home. It's kind of sweet to see that Maura worries about her. Something familial. Cailin hadn't expected how anxious Maura was. Jane had explained it was because Maura wanted Cailin to like her, but that seemed silly because Cailin already did. She'd grown up all over most continents in the kind of places that documentaries got made; she'd learned pretty early to judge people for their intentions. The only vibe she got off Maura was uptight anxiety, and as Jane had said, a deep and abiding need to be liked.

Cailin hadn't done herself any favours there. She'd believed she was dying, and this woman Maura had come in. The daughter Hope had wanted, the daughter Hope had grieved for. She was waiting to take Cailin's place when she passed.

But she hadn't been. She'd offered her kidney; anonymously, of course, but Cailin had known. God, how selfless. Cailin had been a right bitch to get back then, and Maura had offered anyway. Maura really was lovely.

But when Maura was mad, Cailin was reminded that Maura had Doyle blood in her veins too. That their mother loved a mobster and Maura was an unknown quantity.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"it's your house," Cailin says. "Come in."

It wasn't Maura after all. It was Jane. She looks tired and is still in her detective pants with the gun and badge and phone on the belt. They're chunky and make her look even slighter than she already was. It does something to Cailin, Jane being a detective. She wonders if it is genetic.

Jane's also wearing a tank top. It's white and clings to her in a way that makes Cailin bite her lip and look away quickly.

"Thanks for having the talk with Maura."

"I know where babies come from, Jane."

Jane looks startled, then chuckles. She sits on the edge of Cailin's bed and yawns. Cailin sits up beside her.

"I mean the talk about houseguest behaviour. You might not have noticed but she likes certain things a certain way."

"And me being here is upsetting her. I can go home. I just wanted to..." Cailin looks down at her hands. She never fidgeted but Maura did. Must be a Doyle thing. Cailin had seen the way Jane had looked completely devastated in the papers. They had to be lovers. "I just wanted to get to know her. Have a sleepover, I guess, but she's working and I'm studying and we're both adults, even if Hope doesn't think I am."

"Maura says the something vortex doesn't develop until twenty six."

"Cortex," Cailin corrects her. "She's right, but legally I can sign a lease or go to war."

"I would have thought you'd seen enough wars." Jane's voice was low and gentle. She only used that voice for Maura and TJ, who adored her, and sometimes Cailin. Once for Hope. Cailin looks up at Jane. Her smile is so soft, her eyes kind and empathetic. Cailin remembers Jane had dated a soldier and seen another one blown up in front of her.

"Do you ever really feel like the world is an okay place to live in? I know you see the worst of what people do to each other."

Jane sighs and rubs her face. She yawns again.

"You're a good thing in this world. Maura is a good thing in this world. If what I do can protect either one of you, I'll bare-knuckle fight any gangster or deadbeat in Boston."

"Not the Doyles though."

Jane swallows and looks away. "Not the Doyles. They...it's complicated. You and Hope are being watched."

Cailin inhales sharply; she somehow hadn't expected that.

"Look, it's not my place to tell you...but Maura autopsied her half brother. Before she knew who he was, of course. And she had to recuse herself--it was a whole thing. But if you think she's anxious or overbearing or overreacting, I think you should know that she very much doesn't want to have to cut you up too."

Christ. No wonder she'd been so worried. Cailin feels bad now, about making Maura worry. No wonder she'd given up a kidney. Christ. Her own brother. What would that have made him to Cailin? A quarter brother? Like a quarter horse?

Jane watches silently. "That's just scratching the surface of what Maura has in her brain when she looks at you. She's never felt wanted, and when you and Hope didn't want her, I think it broke everything she'd been hoping for. She'd been so scared to even reach out. She's a bad liar, I don't know if you noticed. She just didn't spell out the connection. She wants..." Jane trails off and closes her eyes. "She wants so badly to be loved that she doesn't know how to be loved. She doesn't believe she deserves it."

That's surprisingly deep from casual Detective Jane Rizzoli.

"She was scared of being rejected, that Hope wouldn't want her. She'd met Paddy already by then."

Jane says the name of Boston's biggest crime boss like she likes him, like she hasn't shot him at least once. She'd said Cailin was being watched but she didn't sound concerned. Maybe Cailin shouldn't be either. Jane has a moral compass and she's been a good judge of character so far.

"She was adopted. I mean, of course you know that. But I think she was always scared her parents didn't love her, that they'd made the wrong choice. She was always scared that they'd want to return her. Of course, there was no way they could have returned her, and they love her in their own weird little ways. Constance saved her life. Usually she's not very demonstrative, but she showed Maura how much she has always cared for her. But before then her love for Maura was stiff and formal--she's British. You know what they're like. So seeing you with Hope was something she'd always wanted, something she knew she could never have and she gave you a kidney anyway. So if she says to text her, can you just text her, please?"

"That's a long story for a short message. I'll text her, okay? I didn't know..."

"That's why I told you." Jane's smile is small but she's so pretty that Cailin looks away, suddenly aware that Jane and her are on a bed. She blushes, and Jane chuckles.

"She's not trying to take Hope from you," Jane says gently. Cailin rolls her eyes.

"Somedays I wish she would. She's too much. If Maura can take half, she'd be doing me a favour."

"You've met my Ma, your concept of too much is underwhelming."

"Angela's nice," Cailin protests but not too harshly; she knows what Jane means. The humiliation of having a mother who cares too much. Cailin has always taken it for granted and resented it, but she sees now that Maura can take some of the slack. Hope is too much for one daughter and if Maura can share her house then the least Cailin can do is share her overbearing, anxious mother. They can anxiety at each other. Leave Cailin out of it.

"Ma needs someone to mother, and Maura never got much mothering. They'd both drive me crazy if they didn't have each other." It's so close to Cailin's own thoughts that she laughs. She looks over at Jane. God, those cheekbones, those deep, soulful eyes, the shape of her in that tank top.

"Are you dating?"

Jane looks at her in shock.

"You're, like, half my age."

Cailin groans and buries her head in her hands. She hadn't been asking like that but with the way she was looking at Jane she can't blame her for misinterpreting her.

"I mean, are you guys dating? Each other."

"Ma and me? Not my type." Jane's grin is cheeky.

Cailin knows Jane is being deliberately obtuse. There had been many nights Cailin and Hope had wondered aloud about their relationship. Jane was always there. She was here now.

Cailin meets Jane's eyes with a glare. Jane slumps.

"You'd better ask her," Jane says so quietly that it almost breaks Cailin's heart. It's not a no, but it's as close to an answer as she'll get.

"I'd better go. Sorry to lay all of that on you, I just want to explain. She likes you--she doesn't want to lose you. Not now she's found you."

Poor Jane. Knowing she's single should lift Cailin's heart but she's not wrong; Jane is twice her age, and even though she's gorgeous and funny and kind, dating her would feel wrong because she knows Jane is Maura's. Maura is Hope's, but she's Angela's too, and Paddy's and this Constance's--but most of all Maura is Jane's.

"I like her too. I wish she wouldn't worry so much about that. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't want to spend time with her. She's smart and successful and she's so kind. She's nice, too, if a little uptight at times."

"When you go missing." Jane chides her with no ire. She puts her hands on her knees and yawns again. "I'm going to bed."

"About that. Where do you sleep?"

"The green room," Jane says smoothly, but Cailin has heard Jane's door creep open late at night, Jane's uneven footfalls head down the hall and not come back. Jane gets to her feet and stretches and god there's so much of her, she's so tall, her shirt rides up over her flat stomach and toned abs and Cailin can feel the blush staining her cheeks. Jane tucks her shirt back in.

"Goodnight," Jane says, and then she's gone. Not to the green room, but down the hall towards Maura's bedroom.

Cailin's no detective, but she knows love when she sees it.

+++

In the morning Cailin wakes early to make the coffee. An apology, of sorts. She makes sure the counter is wiped down and the coffee machine is clean when she's finished and packs the dishwasher as Maura and Jane blearily come into the kitchen.

"Keep her," Jane mumbles at Maura, tilting her head at Cailin. Maura nods and yawns and takes the coffee thankfully.

"I just might," Maura says once she's sipped her coffee. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise how much of your routine I was throwing off."

Maura nods. "And I'm sorry if I've made you feel unwelcome. It's these long hours--I have so little time at home. I've wanted to spend time with you."

Cailin's heart warms her.

"I want to spend time with you too," Cailin says softly, and Maura's eyes crinkle as she smiles--not uncertainly, the way she smiles at Hope and Cailin, but relaxed and honestly, the way she smiles at Angela and Frankie.

Jane's hand is on Maura's hip, squeezing softly, then sliding up Maura's back. Maura leans into Jane like it's breathing, like it's easy and natural and something they do every day. Jane welcomes her, bracing her weight and pulling her closer, hand running over Maura's side, then resting on her hip again. Jane sips her coffee and sighs.

Whatever they are, Cailin doesn't know but she won't ask again, because they're comfortable enough to be themselves with each other around her and Cailin had never been gifted anything so precious.

Jane presses a gentle kiss to Maura's temple and Maura's eyes close. Cailin's not jealous; she's glad. From what Jane said last night, Maura had a tough start. Jane had said Maura didn't know how to be loved, but it sure looked like she did when Jane held her like that.

[britneyshakespeare]

i miss spencer being in general hospital. this shit w the quartermaines... ugh

you: nicholas alexander chavez, the actor from ryan murphy's recent work

me, a mama's girl and daytime tv viewer:

[ravensuperr]

Danny’s Ultimate Ghost Breakup Playlist

The class was still recovering from Danny’s Phantom romance tragedy when Dash—because of course it was Dash—clapped his hands.

"Alright, Fenton. Time to step it up."

Danny groaned. “Why do I even talk to you people?”

Dash ignored him. “If Phantom had a relationship with the ghosts that attack him, what would be their breakup songs?”

The class exploded again.

Paulina gasped. “OH MY GOSH, YES!”

Star giggled. “This is going to be amazing.”

Kwan leaned forward. "C’mon, Fenton, you clearly have a talent for this."

Danny sighed dramatically but grabbed his pencil and started jotting down names. "Fine. If you must know…"

Ghost Villains and Their Breakup Songs (According to Danny Fenton, Against His Will)

🟢 Ember McLain – Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson "She’d blast this through the Ghost Zone on full volume and make everyone suffer."

🔵 Skulker – Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye "He’d act all tough, but deep down, he’s crying inside that the hunt is over."

🟣 Spectra – Toxic by Britney Spears "Do I even have to explain? Literally her whole thing is ruining people’s self-esteem."

🟠 Technus – Telephone by Lady Gaga & Beyoncé "Because he will never stop calling me. Even after we break up, he’d still be ranting about upgrades."

🔴 Walker – Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz "He’d make it sound like it was his idea to break up first. Classic ‘my way or the highway’ energy."

🟡 Desiree – If I Were a Boy by Beyoncé "She’d be so passive-aggressive about it. Also, she’d probably curse me to relive the breakup in a loop."

🟢 Vlad Plasmius – Creep by Radiohead "I don’t even want to think about this one."

Back to Reality

The class lost it.

Tucker was crying from laughter. “Danny, I swear, this is your true calling.”

Dash wiped a fake tear. “Man. I feel for Skulker, dude.”

Paulina fanned herself. “Honestly, Ember’s song? Perfection.”

Valerie smirked. "Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how Danny really thought these through? Like, he knew the exact energy of each ghost breakup.”

Danny shook his head. “I hate all of you.”

Kwan grinned. "Okay, okay—so what if Phantom actually dated these ghosts? What would his relationship songs be?"

Danny slammed his head onto his desk. "I’M DONE." ( No you're not)

Ghost Villains and Their Love Songs (According to Danny, Against His Will, Part 2)

Since the class refused to let him go, Danny grumbled and grabbed his pencil again.

"Fine. But after this, I’m done."

🟢 Ember McLain – Betcha Never by Cherie "She’d make it all dramatic, like she never expected to fall for someone."

🔵 Skulker – Animal by Neon Trees "Let’s be real, he’d compare love to ‘the ultimate hunt.’"

🟣 Spectra – Maneater by Nelly Furtado "Because she’d love being the dangerous, mysterious heartbreaker—until she isn’t."

🟠 Technus – Digital Love by Daft Punk "It’s technically a love song, so it works. Plus, it’s Technus."

🔴 Walker – Every Breath You Take by The Police "Yup. The ultimate controlling ex vibes."

🟡 Desiree – I just wanna wish (genie demo)(Genie 2nd ver) by Girl's Generation "Yeah, I know it’s cliché, but tell me it wouldn’t fit."

🟢 Vlad Plasmius – I Want It That Way by Backstreet Boys "Because he’s the definition of ‘obsessed in the worst way.’"

🟢 Vlad Plasmius – I Want It That Way by Backstreet Boys "Because he’s the definition of ‘obsessed in the worst way.’"

The class erupted into laughter again.

Tucker gasped for air. "Dude. Walker's song? Chilling.”

Dash shook his head. “Technus being in Digital Love is so cursed.”

Paulina sighed dreamily. "Ugh, Ember’s song is so perfect."

Kwan smirked. "Alright, Fenton. Final challenge. If Phantom had one ultimate love song, what would it be?"

Danny deadpanned. “…Ghostbusters Theme Song.”

Everyone groaned.