#obviously the last line is sarcasm but

[gloryofnegativity]

sometimes i see things on here that make me so mad. but i don’t say anything because i’m so nice and sweet and merciful. i’m the only person in the entire world who understands kim carlsson btw

[bitchlessdino]

Reckless (m)

Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus

You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.

How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 

It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 

With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.

It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.

“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”

He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”

You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”

“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”

“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”

Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”

“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.

“Good.”

Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.

You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.

Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.

You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.

It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.

A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.

Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.

The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 

One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.

Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 

A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.

Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.

‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’

It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.

‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’

Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.

‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’

“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”

Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”

‘What? What is it?’

You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”

‘Do you deserve it?’

“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“

‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’

“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.

You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”

“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”

You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“

“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”

“Well, you see—“

“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”

You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”

“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”

Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.

“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”

You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 

Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 

“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”

Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”

Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 

“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”

You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.

Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.

"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.

His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”

Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.

“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”

He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.

It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.

“N-no. It’s not enough.”

“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”

The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 

“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”

He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”

“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.

“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”

Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.

He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.

“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”

He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 

With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.

“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.

You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.

Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.

He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 

If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 

His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”

“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”

“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”

Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”

“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”

You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”

“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.

“Or what?”

Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”

You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”

A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”

“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”

“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.

“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-you wouldn’t…”

“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock in you and not fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”

“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.

“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.

“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”

“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.

“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”

“I’ve already done that already, perv.”

Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”

“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”

“I’m honored.”

You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.

“F-fuck off.”

“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 

“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”

“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.

“Shit, I need to be inside you.”

He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.

You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.

“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”

“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.

He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”

“Full…”

“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”

His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.

“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”

You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.

“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.

But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweet than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”

You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”

You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”

Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.

“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 

You hold his hips with both spreadhands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. You mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.

“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”

But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.

“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”

You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”

“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”

“Oh.”

“I can delete it if you want.”

“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”

[juniperdugong]

Ditching Witches

Pairing: Sylus x GN!reader (established relationship) Genre: Fluff, minor angst CW: Swearing, light-hearted jealousy WC: 851

Day 4 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Lotta firsts with this event lmao, been meaning to get into the Love and Deepspace bag with fics for forever

"So comfortable already? Sweetie." Sylus walks in with a big bowl of popcorn in the festive jack-o-lantern bowl you had picked out together the other day.

"Hard not to get comfortable at your place," you beam as you cuddle into the biggest, fluffiest blanket you could find in his linen closet.

He sets the bowl beside you on the couch and slips under the blanket, wrapping an arm around your waist and lazily tracing lines along your belly with his cold hands. "Glad you like it so much- been so much warmer with you around." Resting his head on your shoulder you feel as he presses light kisses along your jaw.

"Don't get all touchy with me mister! Not after tonight..." You pout and huff as you pry his hand away with little to no strength, not really wanting him to let go but still wanting to stick to your conviction.

"Ha." Just as you expected, he presses into you and grips you tighter. "You're the one who picked that costume for me, kitten. How am I to blame?"

You whip your head away from him with another huff.

"Starting to sound like the big bad wolf, sweetie." He smirks.

You push at his chest and hog the blanket, "You were practically all over them!"

"I barely even spoke to them." He chuckles and you know the whole thing is silly but you can't help but be possessive with him... You know if the tables were flipped he'd probably be much worse.

"You spoke to them." You purse your lips and side-eye him.

"You don't want me to speak to other people?"

"Not when those other people obviously want to get in your pants..."

"Hey. You know I'd want no one else but you in my pants, sweetie." And his tone darkens for just a moment - almost willing you to take him into your arms right then! But no! You must stay strong, when else would you have the chance to get mad at him just a little?

"Those bitches-"

"Witches." He cuts you off and you look up at him with a puzzled expression, "They were dressed as witches." He grins knowing just what buttons to press for you to lose it.

And he's damn good at knowing your buttons because you swear your eye twitches, "You remembered what they were dressed as?"

"It was a Halloween party, baby."

"I hate you." You abruptly say as you toss and curl yourself up in the blanket so tightly you feel like it would rip if it wasn't so well made.

"Mmm... you hate me?" And your silence only further amuses him. "Oh no... My love hates me sooo much." The sarcasm is dripping from his words and you're about to just give in and call it there but suddenly you're being lifted and sat back down upright.

With the blanket still tightly wrapped around your upper half, you can tell that he's set you down in his lap with the way his arms settled on your waist. And you gasp as you feel his hot breath through the fabric near your ear, "They hate me so much that they can't even finish picking the movie for our movie night..." he whispers and it makes you shudder.

With a pout still painted on your face, you uncover yourself slowly, trying your best to leave eye contact for last. "Still hate me?" He says with a smile that he knows you can't ignore.

"Can't hate you..." And you know how childish you sound but what good is acting mature when he coddles you like this?

"Yeah? Well good, I'd hate for you to hate me. I'd hate myself so much."

"You know I'm joking right?" You just have to confirm with him that this is all some cringy game before you actually start to believe that this could become normal.

"I know, sweetheart. I also know that even though you're joking there's just a small part of you that's actually jealous..."

"You suck."

"Right. I suck." And he brings snuggles himself into you, constricting your movements with a hug.

"Why did you have to look so good in that costume? Huh?!" You poke at his chest with fury as you come to rest your head against his shoulder this time.

"You're the one who picked it, sweetie. I'm sure you had an idea of what I would look like in it."

"You had your whole chest out!"

"You picked it."

And you just have to resign from this nonsense argument because you're going in circles over practically nothing. With a sigh, you snuggle back into him and pick up the popcorn. He grabs the remote and you both begin the endless hell of scrolling till you both agree on a movie.

You knew you weren't justified in arguing with him over this. After all, he was the one who kept bringing up his partner to those witches when they asked for his number and he's the one who dutifully ditched the party with you the moment you said you wanted to leave.

A/N: Oh no... Sylus! Save me! Lmao I love this man so much, actually the death of me and the whole reason I picked the game up. (I have him leveled up far better than the others ;-;) I am lowkey hoping that my spinning wheel for this event picks JJK again soon bc I have some lowkey-angst I've been wanting to write out...

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

[fictionismyreality3]

Hiiiiii I'm SO SO SO MADLY IN LOVE with your Stalker!Jason fic, the way you wrote it was just UGH TAKE ME (sure did put me to some quality sleep there).

I was hoping if you would write about Classmate!Jason (n kinda stalk-ish) where he is protective n stuff towards reader (much like sunshine x grumpy trope)

Love love loveeeeee your writing🖤🖤🖤

-🦇anon-

Make You Pay

Jason Todd x Reader

You’re my second emoji anon and as such I have adopted you and will not take no for an answer 😇

Tags: classmate!jason, stalker!jason, possessive!jason, jealous!jason, angry!jason, innocent!reader if you look really hard

Warnings: allusions to violence, motorcycles, stalking

Notes: no hate to surfer dudes ☮️

Your pencil hit repeatedly on the dark wood of the desk, sending little taps echoing throughout the otherwise quiet library. You had an exam in two weeks and were already struggling through the study material your professor provided for you. Passing this class seemed like a mile away. How the hell were you going to pass your biology final if the only thing you remembered was that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell?

The only thing keeping you going at this point was picturing the cute faces of the puppies, kittens and other animals you’d get to help once you’d graduated. Using the last of your willpower, you moved on to the next slide deck, only for your laptop to give out on you, the screen going black. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey, baby, come take a break from studying.”

Okay, maybe you spoke a little too soon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the curly, blonde headed figure of Holden coming your way, a sneer on his face. Despite the fact that your skin was crawling from the pet name, you began to hastily pack up your stuff, pretending not to see him.

It wasn’t that you were the type of girl to be complacent with poor intentioned men, but Holden had obviously taken your first day of class friendless a little too close to his heart.

“C’mon, baby. I know you see me.” He said, his words with an undertone of slimy sarcasm.

Sighing to yourself, you shoved the last of your papers into your bag and turned to face him, plastering a smile on your face as you began walking to the library exit.

“Sorry, I really have to go, my friends are waiting for me.” You said politely.

Making a beeline for the exit, you glanced back at Holden, hoping he didn’t follow you, and bumped into someone, your book bag scattering across the floor.

Big, calloused hands filled your field of view, handing you your books as you frantically gathered your things. Your gaze was met with the blue-green eyes of Jason Todd.

He wasn’t someone you knew very well, usually sitting in the back of the lecture halls where you preferred the front, but you’d seen him riding around campus on his motorcycle. From the limited interaction you did have with him, his lips always seemed to be pressed in a thin line of annoyance, or pulled down in a soft frown. So, you always tried your best to cheer him up, but the most you’d ever earned was a little snicker after a ridiculously bad joke.

You wondered why he had so much to frown about.

Before now, Jason hadn’t taken much notice of you, the bubbly girl who seemed to constantly radiate some level of happiness. At most he found you less annoying than then rest of the people on campus. Maybe it was because you looked so startled, innocently glancing between him and that blonde dickhead who was constantly on your ass. Maybe it was how he noticed your hands were so much smaller than his, brushing against his skin as he handed you your notebook.

Maybe it was because you were on your hands and knees, but Jay suddenly noticed the pretty colour of your hair, and the way your clothes reflected your sunny personality. Your eyes were a little more captivating and he found himself wanting to reach out and run his thumb along your bottom lip.

He also wanted to break the nose of that surfer looking idiot who was still talking.

“Here, don’t let ‘em bother you, sweetheart.” Helping you up, Jason ushered you to continue to wherever you were going. “Thank you?” You mumbled confused, the pet name hugging you like a warm blanket.

As you were practically pushed out the library doors, you looked back to see Jason exchanging words with Holden, who was getting more and more disagreeable. You were never the type to get involved in trouble, so you quickly turned on your heel and walked away.

When he was done with asshole Henry.. Harry? Jason didn’t care, he made his way to his bike, pulling out his phone and opening up an app, technology courtesy of Bruce. He wanted to make sure you got back to the dorms safely, and the tracker he’d slipped in your book bag would ensure that.

It wasn’t anything sinister, Jason just knew now that he had found something far too precious for this world, something that was too sweet and gentle to take care of itself. That’s okay.

He would take care of you now.

You saw Jason again a few days later. Holden didn’t show up to class that week, and nobody commented on Jay’s bloody knuckles.

[flippinpancakes64]

Can I request the cullens x reader whose love language is like playfully bullying, like insults and bickering but like in a joking way they don't actually mean to be rude but they cullens don't know that so they just think reader suddenly doesn't like them anymore.

Thanks for your time❤️

The Cullens with a reader who playfully bullies them

I’ve sort of got this issue where my normal speaking cadence is sarcastic and people don’t know if I’m being honest or not. So I understand the struggle.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can tell when you’re joking

You know, reading minds and everything is pretty helpful in that scenario

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get confused sometimes tho

He knows you like to tease him from time to time

And he never usually takes it personally

But for some reason the last comment you made on his hairdo really got to him

Somehow he missed the playful hint in your mind and now he’s sulking

Like actually pouting

He is up in the piano room sadly plinking on the keys

You have to go up there and personally apologize

Obviously he can look into your mind and tell that you’re being serious

This kinda thing happens from time to time, him missing those little cues

But he’s pretty easy to reason with afterwards

Just apologize profusely for hurting his feelings

Alice:

She’s got some pretty thick skin

Especially when it comes to physical attributes about herself

Except for her hair

Vampire hair can’t grow and in the books/graphic novel it’s a lot choppier and shorter

She does her best, but it can never fully live up to her fashion standards

So all it takes is one backhanded remark about her hair and she’s really upset

She won’t tell you, she just excuses herself

She’ll bring it back up later when she’s more calm though

She needs a bunch of cuddles and kisses to forgive you

And even then you might have to go shopping with her

Jasper:

He’s a bit insecure when it comes to certain things

Namely the scars on his arms

He doesn’t mind your playful bullying

But when you joke about something he’s so ashamed of, he shuts down

He knows that you know that it’s a touchy subject for him

So he assumes that you’re trying to hurt his feelings

He stays in the forest for a day or two

He intends to be alone

Since you don’t want him, he’ll stay away

You’re gonna have to go find him and stop him from moping and being sad

Apologize profusely right now

And tell him you didn’t mean it

He can sense the sincerity coming from you

And even though he is still a little hurt, he’ll forgive you

Just don’t bring up his scars again

Rosalie:

She’s also one to playfully bully you

Sometimes she crosses the line

But she’s always quick to fix it

She’s not going to let shit stew

If you insulted her in some way and didn’t seem like you were joking, she asks you about it immediately

Not one to beat around the bush

And as long as you clarify that it was a joke, you didn’t mean it, etc, she doesn’t hold a grudge

If you didn’t mean it to be harmful, she won’t take it that way

Overall she’s pretty chill when it comes to misunderstandings

However, if there’s ever a time where she can’t talk to you about it quick enough to resolve things, she’s angry

She starts second guessing herself, asking if you really meant it, why you would say that, other things

She just gets really pissed off

Like she could punch something

Not you of course

But again, she doesn’t wait around

As soon as both of you are available to talk about it she’s striking up the conversation

10/10 communicator

Emmett:

He’s got thick skin

But he’s also easily confused

He doesn’t understand sarcasm too well

He just hears the insult and he’s like “…babe?”

So if you wanna play bully him you’re gonna have to explain that it’s a joke

Usually he catches on if you start laughing afterwards

But if you don’t, he’s lost

It’s happened a couple times

Usually he asks right after you say it if you mean it

And he just looks at you with these wide eyes and you can’t resist

But if you double down, maybe you’re in a more playful mood, it just re-establishes it to him

And he just sort of says “oh…ok” and walks away all sad

You’re gonna have to go find him to apologize

And don’t do it again

Esme:

She also gets a bit confused by it

Like wdym your way of showing affection is by insulting me???

She doesn’t get it

And she’s pretty upfront with the fact that she would prefer if you were just… nice to her

We love a partner who can properly communicate their boundaries

Because of this, every time you do insult her and take it a step too far, she takes it personally

She gets really hurt

And when she’s hurt she tends to isolate a little

Please go find her and apologize

And cuddle

And watch a movie

And whatever else she wants to do

Carlisle:

He’s sort of similar to Esme

He’s not a big fan of the playful bullying

But he does understand it better

He’s not too fond of the fact that sometimes you make fun of his clothes or his hair

But he also knows when you’re joking

He doesn’t ask you to stop

But he does set very clear boundaries

If you go after something he’s insecure about or he feels you shouldn’t joke about, he tells you

It’s very very rare that he misunderstands you

He knows that’s just how you are

And he doesn’t usually take it personally either

What can I say he’s a very well rounded guy

Vampire! Bella:

She’s got some insecurities, we all know that

Specifically when it comes to the other vampires

If you say literally anything about her not being as graceful, as smart, as funny, literally anything, she is so upset

She wants to be like the other Cullens so bad that if you say anything like that she shuts down

She trusts you, and even though she knows you like to joke around, this is the one thing she can’t joke about

You’re gonna need to apologize a whole lot

And even then she’ll be touchy

Just don’t talk about that tho and you’ll be good

[sh4wty18]

based off the “driving with chris sturniolo” video Larray did with chris expect he talks about reader in a part of it; reader is dating chris and Larray does “driving with y/n” and they talk about stuff and Chris’s and hers relationship (shes also a YouTuber and lives with chris, Nick, and Matt). And then in the comments everyone is freaking out about how they both talked about each other.

in the car.

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader.

summary: same as request.

cw: fluff, nothing else.

word count: 985, not edited.

“So when did you and Y/n get together, huh?” Larray asks slyly, a smirk creeping its way onto his face.

Chris blushes and chews on his bottom lip, “Fuck you, dude,” he giggles, swatting playfully at Larray’s arm.

Larray laughs as he flicks on the turn signal, “Tell the camera, Chris. All the girls wanna know.”

“Well…” Chris starts with a giggle. “Um, we sorta just ran into each other one day a few years ago–she’s obviously a youtuber too. And so we started talking… and became friends, she moved in, and eventually, I guess it just turned into something more? I don’t know. I really like her.”

“Yeah you guys are too cute,” Larray says. “Do you guys like being PDA or no? I think everyone’s seen that video of you two making out at Tara’s party…” he says in a sing-songy voice, grinning again.

Chris covers his face with his hands, “Fuck, I know,” he groans. “That was a wild night, for sure. But um, no, usually we’re pretty private. I love being near her, you know? Like we don’t have to be doing anything to have fun, we can literally just sit on the couch on our phones and it’s enough.”

Larray’s eyebrows furrow and he forces a fake gag noise, “Ewwww, happy straight couple!”

Chris laughs, before Larray is already off to the next topic of conversation.

—

“Alright, so today I’m driving with…” Larray points at you with both hands, awaiting your introduction.

“Y/n!” you say gleefully, waving to the camera with both hands.

“So last week, I drove around with someone who I think means a lot to you. Do you know who that was?” Larray asks with a smile.

“I do!” you respond, “I watched the video as soon as I saw it, Larray. You know I’m your biggest fan.”

“Of course, of course,” Larray says with a hint of playful sarcasm. “So yes, I was with Christopher. And I asked him a few questions about your guys’ relationship.”

You giggle, “I saw, it was so cute.”

“So I figured, it’s only fair if I ask you the same.”

“Sounds fair enough,” you nod.

“So how is it living with the triplets?” Larray asks as he turns onto a busy street lined with shops.

“Hmm,” you think of how to answer his question. “They’re gonna clock me for hesitating,” you laugh. “Um, it’s really great. I’ve been friends with them all for years, so like, it wasn’t hard to live with them. It really makes paying rent a lot easier. It got a little awkward when Chris and I first started hooking up because Matt and Nick could definitely tell and didn’t wanna make it weird.”

“Hooking up?! Wait so you two started off as friends with benefits? In your own house is crazy,” Larray laughs, but the shock is written all over his face. No one would expect you or Chris to be the hookup type.

“Well, it was more like… we both knew there were feelings there, right? Like we knew we wanted to be a couple, but I think we were worried, you know, about living together and with his brothers. We didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had. But eventually we got tired of pretending there was nothing there. So kind of, in a way, we started as friends with benefits. But that only lasted like a week before we made things official. Just ‘cause one day, Matt and Nick sat us down and were like ‘you guys know it’s okay if you want to be together, right? we both know you guys like each other, it’s obvious.’ And so, after that we made things official.” You nod, remembering the conversation with your three best friends so clearly.

“Wow, that’s the first I’ve heard of this,” Larray says in even more shock.

“Well, we are pretty private. But anything for you, Larray.” You stare directly into the camera for a moment, “Sorry baby, I know you’re gonna watch this and be embarrassed.”

“Not the pet name,” Larray rolls his eyes jokingly. “Okay, so how is the relationship going? Do you feel like you can balance your romantic relationship with your friendship?”

“Yeah, definitely. He’s been my best friend for longer than we’ve been dating, so in a way, he’ll always be my best friend. It’s just now there’s more to it. I like it better this way, though. I liked him for so long before we got together, it was so embarrassing.”

“Oh, well Christopher was down horrifically for you too, by the way.”

You giggle, “I know he was. He made that very clear when we had the conversation.”

“What’s your favorite thing about him?” Larray asks.

“His kindness. He’s genuinely the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He never judges. He’s caring. He’ll drop everything to be there for his loved ones. He’s the most loving brother and friend anyone could ever ask for, and he’s the most considerate boyfriend I’ve ever had. I just love him so much, I love everything about him. It’s hard to choose just one thing. He’s perfect to me,” you smile, and a slight pink hue covers your face.

Larray moves on to another topic after that, and leaves you thinking about how much you love your boyfriend as he does. Later, when the video is posted, all of the comments are freaking out about how cute you two are.

user1: OMG THEY BOTH TALKED ABOUT EACH OTHER😭😭

user2: they’re actually my fav couple of all time

user3: the way they talk about each other is so genuine and sweet. it’s so hard to come by a love like theirs these days :)

user4: i love them (even tho ill always be a little jealous of y/n lol)

user5: BRO WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP LIKE CHRIS AND Y/N😔

hope you enjoyed <3

dividers from @plutism

pics from pinterest

[buckley-diaztruther]

there is a lot of folks really heated at eddie for this last ep and I gotta say yall, none of it felt ooc to me. I think in the lead up so many folks built up a fantasy of what they WANTED from the ep (eddie fondly exasperated but indulging buck completely in contrast to cruel skepticism from temu) when the reality is eddienhas ALWAYS been a bitch(affectionate) when it comes to his skepticism. Just because it feels weird to us to see him getting along w temu again doesn't mean it's ooc. I think we also built a fantasy of him now aggressively hating temu because he saw he was classic petty eddie at the bachelor party. but 1. I don't think the show would be THAT overt w Eddie's jealousy, he always displays it in little looks and comments but is otherwise generally neutral if not nice to bucks partners. 2. it is possible for eddiento be jealous and still like temu as a friend, much as we wish he didn't. they've effectively written put temus dark past and it's all about him just being dry humor and sarcasm, which at times can line up well w Eddie's humor. there's a reason they got on so well at the beginning of s7, no matter how we as temu haters feel about it.

also, folks are really defensive of buck being roasted by both of them purely bc theyre defensive of buck in general (same bestie same). the fandom has clocked very early on that buck is some flavor of adhd and the RSD is out the wazoo on this guy. and a lot of us empathize w that, can relate to it. and inthink that leads to a LOT of projection. not a bad thing, but I think that it can make folks a little blind to the nuance. buck can be genuinely hurt by the dismissal from eddie and eddie can still be ok and fine for laughing and poking fun to an extent. him and buck have always had a relationship that was heavy with friendly jabs and mocking and roasting bc thats a very normal thing in relationships, esp ones that are secure. it's easy to be comfortable ribbing each other the way they do (and they've said some BOLD shit even early on) because they trust each other to not go too far and that their relationship is still secure at the end of the day. it's newer, less certain relationships where you're going to tip toe around sensitivities until you really understand a person's boundaries. and while buck has clearly struggled w being put down and rejected, outside of the divorce era it's never been something that is obviously a crossed line for buck and so I don't think this is anything more than a silly 'et tu brute' kinda feeling from buck. I don't think he's really THAT torn up about eddie laughing.

also I'm gonna say something a lot of folks hate to hear. even if buck genuinely is so distressed at every perceived rejection, that is NOT Eddie's responsibility. eddie is his friend (and future husband I know) and yes, he should and does have care for bucks feelings and boundaries. but sometimes people act like eddie has to coddle buck and treat him like a baby to protect his feelings or that eddie just never would ever be mean or dismissive to buck and 1. that's not true and 2. RSD means something that was 100% ok yesterday might feel like a devastating rejection today and unfortunately, that's for buck to contend with. he's an adult and responsible for his own emotions and reactions. he can be hurt and work thru them (solo or w eddie) but even in romantic relationships it's not all gonna be sunshine and rainbows and not every hurt feeling needs to be met with a thousand apologies and amends because sometimes w rsd your reaction can be disproportionate to the cause and that's up to buck to tackle w his therapist.

I say this all, BTW, as someone w extreme rsd who v much was amd is buck in a lot of my friend groups - the 'immature', naive and hyperactive kid who won't shut up and gets their feelings hurt at every little thing and then youre getting hurt more because you're laughed at for being sensitive. it fucking sucks and a lot of that was extrapolated by having shitty friends. and yall, the 118 are not that.

Anyway sorry that got way out of hand and I went on a huge tangent but tldr stop acting like eddie is ooc and a dick for laughing at buck and stop treating buck like a baby when he's a grown ass man thank u love u

[pigeon-paperweight]

My Kaku Good Guy Rant (help this is consuming my life) (this is very long)

(Spoilers for Water 7 and Egghead, obviously! I'll try and keep this in chronological order. I will mainly be using the manga for examples. This is gonna be lengthy, and ranty, and hyper-analyze...y. I will be using punctuation in this post for the sake of myself and everyone else.)

Let me start this off by saying: Is this the face of a man who hates his life?

Call me crazy (sarcasm), but I don't think so.

Kaku, though he is a Cipher Pol agent, is leagues away from any of the other Cipher Pol agents we've seen to date. The way he acts, the way he speaks, the way he treats others -- it all gets on my nerves because it makes me think he isn't so bad. But we've seen his actions! We've seen some of the things he's done and the bad people he is associated with! He's an evil person!

...Or is he?

Characters can do bad things, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they are bad people, because things aren't always just black and white like that.

We know that Cipher Pol agents are taken in as children, and they are raised through the eyes of the government. They -- as messed up as some of these poor kids seem -- are conditioned to think in a way where the bad deeds they do are deemed 'right', just because they do so for the sake of 'justice'. They don't particularly know that what they're doing is wrong.

Part One: Water 7

When we see CP9 act during water 7, I've noticed that Kaku specifically was less involved in the brutal beatings of Iceberg and Paulie inside of the Galley-la mansion. He seems to stand to the side and let Lucci do the dirty work, along with all the talking.

At the end of chapter 344, Opposing Force, Paulie is seen bleeding with the blueprints in his hand. We don't see who beats him up, but it can be assumed that it was Lucci, due to him being closer to Paulie. Lucci is also the first to grab the blueprints from him. Kaku stands still in the background.

However, they could have both been fighting him, as Lucci says "Your resistance against us is futile..." although again, Lucci seems to talk for the both of them, as Kaku doesn't say a word up until Paulie reveals that the blueprints are fake. Even then, after that, Lucci still does the brunt of the talking.

In my opinion, it's highly unlikely that Kaku would beat up Paulie, because as far as I've seen, Kaku doesn't lay a hand on either him or Iceberg, aside from gently checking Iceberg's pulse.

What makes me think this? Well in chapter 345, Luffy, in casual Luffy fashion, busts in just as Paulie succumbs to the beating, to which Kaku attempts to catch Luffy with his Tempest Kick. Luffy dodges at the last second, but is apprehended by Lucci as he is stuck to the floor using metal prongs to hold him down.

Lucci then yells at Kaku to restrain Paulie, because this was "no time to be fighting (Paulie is nearly K.O'd and bleeding out on the floor)", and Kaku does this:

Notice those little lines next to his head? He's surprised.

Now, he could be surprised due to not thinking about restraining Paulie since he's literally already been defeated, but Lucci knows that Paulie could become a bigger problem if he got back up, especially with Luffy there with him. I picture Kaku as a bit of an extension to Lucci, and since they're both very smart, Kaku would know this too, wouldn't he?

Paulie could get up and free Luffy, or better yet free him and team up with Luffy to 'beat' the both of them. Kaku already knows that Paulie isn't dead, because Paulie's still conscious right in front of him, so why is he so obviously surprised at Lucci's order? Why was it so important to draw those little lines next to him?

Perhaps he was surprised because he was worried Lucci would tell him to restrain Paulie, and he was hoping he wouldn't have to.

Another reason for these little lines could be that Kaku could have been zoned-out, maybe having some heavy thoughts (regret, guilt, or some sort of existential crisis), and Lucci snapped him out of it by getting his attention.

Backtracking just a bit, back to chapter 344, right when Paulie reveals that the blueprints were fake, Lucci and Kaku understandably share a moment of shock.

Kaku, more so speaking to himself rather than anyone else (as he trails off at the end of the sentence), says: "What an idiotic thing to..."

This doesn't have to mean anything, as Paulie could be seen as both smart and an idiot for revealing this in front of them, however I like to think deeper into it, of course.

Kaku could have been calling this action idiotic due to the fact that he knew they would've had to kill Paulie afterwards, and that Paulie likely knew this too, and was just revealing this out of spite and to witness their surprise before he died.

Kaku's words seem a little out of place here. Lucci, of course, just goes straight into 'let's kill this guy 'cause he got on my nerves' mode, but Kaku's response isn't what I would expect. When I read this for the first time, not knowing that these two were in fact Kaku and Lucci, this just stuck out to me (it still sticks out to me, even now), and I can't exactly put into words why.

Again, this makes me think: "Why add this? Why is this so important?"

If they weren't so rudely interrupted by Luffy, Lucci probably would have finished the job and killed Paulie right then and there because Kaku was still standing around not doing anything and just adding random commentary.

One more thing from this chapter, then it's onward and upward from here! We'll get to the Zoro fight and Egghead soon enough!

When Luffy bursts in awkwardly through the wall, interrupting this uncomfortable encounter between the three of them, I stated earlier that Kaku tries to hit him with a Tempest Kick. Right before this, though, Kaku has a moment of hesitation before attacking Luffy.

Of course, as I've said, this can have little to no meaning.

But, can it mean something? Yes!

This little panel of hesitation could be a wave of guilt washing over Kaku, as he knows Luffy and the Strawhats weren't involved in the attempted assassination of Iceberg like CP9 made them out to be. He knows the Strawhats are good people, but he's just following orders. He's aware of the situation they've stuck Luffy with. This bit of hesitation could be him just further instating to himself that this is what needs to be done to get these blueprints.

When Kaku reveals himself to be one of the government assassins, he replies to Iceberg's disbelief with: "You're the one in the wrong. None of this would have happened if you'd handed them over to the government when it asked nicely."

That's rather depressing, combined with the expression on his face.

What is "none of this"? What does that mean? Almost killing Iceberg? Beating up your friends?

His sad expression is pushing me to think that there are more layers to this than just causing harm to Iceberg/Paulie/others.

Why would he need to justify that Iceberg was in the wrong? They were doing this for that sweet sense of justice, after all!

Perhaps the "none of this" really does mean this entire mission, as the whole reason CP9 was sent to Water 7 was to retrieve the blueprints from Iceberg. If "none of this" happened, Kaku would have never been sent to Water 7 in the first place. Makes you think about why he looks so sad, huh? He would have never gotten those five years of bliss.

Remember, Kaku was only 18 when he started the mission at Water 7. That is wild to think about, if you put yourself in his shoes. You aren't even fully developed yet, especially your brain by that time!

If you wanna dive even deeper into this, just think -- all of the other CP9 members are older than Kaku. Granted, Kalifa only has 2 years on him, but they weren't super close during Water 7, so disregard her for now. Lucci was 23 at the start of the Water 7 mission, for more reference of their age differences.

Lulu is 8 years older than Kaku, and Tilestone is 10 years older.

Paulie, however, is only one year older than Kaku. Paulie is his peer. His close friend.

I'm not saying that any of the other shipwrights weren't his friends, Tilestone and Lulu's behavior alone disproves that, however having friends -- especially when you're a teenager -- that are among the same age group as you is important, so it's a little easier to infer that Kaku has an attachment to Paulie, which could be a reason as to why Kaku isn't seen fighting him -- he grew up with him in those five years 'away' from CP9.

After it is revealed that the masked assassins were, in fact, Lucci, Kaku, Kalifa, and Blueno, Kaku is asked to check Iceberg's pulse to see if they can guess the whereabouts of the real Pluton blueprints. We can assume, that from this action, Kaku still respects Iceberg, as all of the other CP9 members have been treating Iceberg like a damn doormat.

Very polite. Just wanted to add this quick one in.

Then -- this is important -- shortly after that, we get this:

Mhm.

To me, here, Kaku is being genuine when he says this. The other members can say that they "don't have anything against Iceberg", but I believe Kaku is the only one who really doesn't have anything against him. He really is thankful for the opportunities Iceberg gave him during his time on Water 7.

Through his actions, Kaku is very obviously genuine, no matter how much someone wants to say he's not. Lucci + Co. beat Iceberg senseless, while Kaku, who could have very easily joined in with the other members, did not. He respected Iceberg down to the very last moment with him, much like I feel he did with Paulie, too.

The next few examples are going to be small, with little bits of my thoughts, because trust me, I really want to get to Egghead.

These examples are throughout the next couple of chapters.

Kaku's face, along with the bubble of an ellipsis at the sight of Paulie. Ouch.

Why does he look so disturbed from the action of hitting Zoro with his Finger Pistol? I'll say it again -- guilt?

Just wanted to add this in because it makes me sad. "Honing their skills to serve the government" is all they're good for, and they all know it.

Alright! That wraps this part up, now we're going to quickly touch on Enies Lobby and Kaku's fight with Zoro, because, honestly, not much needs to be said about the latter half.

Don't worry, the next parts will be shorter.

Part Two: Enies Lobby

I'm adding this section in after I've already finished the Water 7 part, and LET ME TELL YOU: I am currently high on 1 a.m. exhaustion-induced goofiness, and I literally had a dream about finishing this post last night so I'm WORKING ON IT NOW!! NOW!!!!

So please, if you could, excuse me. Me as a whole. Excuse everything.

ALRIGHT LET'S DIG INTO THIS!!!

So, like I mentioned just above the header for this section, I don't want to go too deep into this part, mostly because in my eyes the evidence speaks for itself (especially for the fight with Zoro) however I will go a little bit into some other parts that I find interesting.

EXHIBIT ONE!!! - 'Co-workers pressure you to eat mystery items? Hell yes!'

A bit unrelated, but I just wanted to say how I thought it was a bit funny how Kaku and Kalifa get peer pressured into eating their devil fruits, despite Kaku showing obvious disinterest, and can we talk about their reactions when handed the fruits??

You cannot convince me that they wanted to eat those. Kalifa is struggling. But of course, Lucci comes in with the "It'll be fun", so they just decided 'yep we're doing this i guess'. Was it really that fun, though? Everyone got their ass kicked two times over in the end, so did it really matter?

You poor souls.

Moral of the story, if someone tells you 'eat this thing I'm giving you because it will be fun' -- don't.

Exhibit TWO!!! - 'Crackhead Franky burns the blueprints'

These panels just make me feel some type of way. Of course, Kaku (as the other CP9 members are) is very upset that his five years of work just got burned up into dust in front of him, but it also means that it was ALL FOR NOTHING. Everything was for nothing.

Coming to Water 7, getting the job, liking the job, participating in your interest, making friends, having a good boss and then turning around and ruining it all for the sake of some papers (that you've already been faked out of once, mind you) that just disintegrated and basically never had any meaning in the first place, because 'how the hell are we getting those back, oh yeah, we can't', is what would be going through my mind.

I mean, karma is a bitch, but damn. Also -- are ellipses just Kaku's thing? I'm noticing a pattern here.

Exhibit TROIS! ahem.. Three. - 'Zoro's sword is moaning'

Now we'll get into the stuff with Zoro -- BUT ONLY QUICKLY BECAUSE I'M GETTING TO EGGHEAD, DAMMIT!!

When confronted by Zoro, Kaku stated that Zoro's 'Will you hand Robin's handcuff key over before I kill you?' was a foolish question, followed by another damn ellipsis! What is it with him and those??

Anyways, why is this a foolish question to him? Well, it could go both ways -- Kaku would kill Zoro before he could get the key, or Zoro would kill Kaku before he could give up the key. The first way was probably intended from Kaku's perspective... or was it? Kaku knows Zoro is strong, as he says literally in the same panel that he wished he could see what Zoro was capable of.

Based on Kaku's reaction to Zoro defeating him (which we'll get to in just a moment), I believe he was anticipating his own defeat by Zoro's hand.

Fighting Zoro was almost like a game to Kaku, as he said (during the lighter half of their fight) that this was fun, and the only way for the fun to stop was if Zoro beat him. This was fun for him to the very end of it. That's pretty sad, and I feel like Kaku was excited to have someone like Zoro fighting him, especially with them both being swordsman, as he seemed to really enjoy their fights.

Now for the finale!!

^^ This is right after Zoro informs Kaku that he's fired, rubbing salt into Kaku's many metaphorical and physical wounds. vv

Why did Zoro feel the need to say this? Did Zoro want Kaku to feel bad about what he did? Because usually, foes don't get the time to talk with the person that just beat their ass, because they get knocked out/killed before anything else happens. Did Zoro hit him just hard enough to delay him losing consciousness, just so he could rub it in (and so this would be Kaku's last thought before passing out) that Paulie was upset with him?

Why would Zoro do this? Kaku is an enemy, and at this point in time Zoro didn't know Kaku was going to willingly give him his key (as in he thought he was going to have to take it off Kaku after he was unconscious), so why the hell did he not just knock him out right then and there and get the key? Zoro is pressed for time, because he needs to bring that key to Robin -- so why do this?

Perhaps Zoro is aware that there is more to Kaku than just being a backstabbing government assassin, and that he could have possibly still had a conscience at that time so he just really wanted to rub it in his face that Paulie directly fired him -- because he knew it would hurt.

"You guys... are fired."

'Paulie said that? Oh... what a mess' Kaku says as if he wasn't expecting that? Excuse me, sir?

Sure, okay, maybe he hadn't had the time to think about Paulie and all them dudes with all the shit he'd been dealing with, but honestly, what was he expecting? That Paulie wouldn't say that?

Of course not. Those words just had a lot of weight coming from Paulie, let's be real here. He knew that he was fired. He knew this whole thing would end up with him being fired eventually, so why is he so sad at the fact that Paulie fired him?

This, along with the "assassins can never find other work" leads me to think he knows he's done for. He will be stuck as an assassin until he dies, and that's just how it's going to be. I'm wondering, was he expecting to die here?

I'm curious -- who was it that told him that assassins couldn't find other work? Who is 'they'? Was it you, Kaku? Is he telling himself that?

Or was it someone like Lucci, who wanted to drill into his head that this is what he was 'meant' to do, and there was no going back for him, as if he can't ever redeem himself (praying on this y'all, please Oda PLEASE), just because Lucci wants Kaku on his side to be his partner in crime. Stupid Lucci. I hate that guy.

The next picture will be a little more focused on Zoro's reaction to Kaku rather than Kaku himself.

Again, here we go with those damn ellipses. They are starting to paint a better picture of how complex this could actually get, though, so I won't dog on them anymore.

Let's actually talk about that for a second -- the Oxford Dictionary defines an ellipsis as "the omission from speech or writing of a word or words that are superfluous or able to be understood from contextual clues", and from a couple different sources ellipses in comics can be seen as "there is more to be said here, but you can figure it out because why not" or a character is thinking about something.

What is Zoro thinking about here? What's making him just stare at Kaku while he gets his key for him? Well, maybe Zoro wasn't expecting Kaku to just give him the key, so he's just... watching. Kaku is also laughing (at Zoro's zoo joke, for context), and if I was in his situation I very much wouldn't be, so that can be a bit confusing for Zoro as he might wonder why Kaku is being such a good sport.

This good sportsmanship displayed by Kaku could be giving Zoro a reason to believe in Kaku's complexity and ambiguity, along with Kaku giving him the key right before he passes out. Kaku really felt the need to give Zoro his key because he had earned it, yet Kaku wasn't killed to obtain it -- so this was Kaku's way of surrendering, and that is another reason why I think he was expecting this to be the end of the road.

Bonus to that:

Okay!! I'm done I'm done I'm done!!!!!!!!!!~ I talked a little more than I wanted to but that's okay because were onto EGGHEAD!!! WOO HOO!!!!

Part Three: Egghead

Reminder: MANGA Egghead -- ahead of the anime.

This part is going to be a bit unhinged because as I'm writing this Egghead JUST finished up (who's excited for Elbaf???? WOOP!!) and I have some STRONG feelings.

OK OK OK LET'S GET INTOOO ITTT!!

So Egghead starts and... and.. w-.. wait.

He's sitting on top of poor Sentomaru's battered body. This... this looks familiar.

Oh, that's why. That's weird. What a weird detail. Is this going to happen more in the future? Is this one of Kaku's weird things he does, just because?

Sidetracked, sorry. Anyway-

I'm going to start this off by saying that Lucci has definitely been getting on Kaku's nerves throughout the entirety of Egghead. Honestly, I understand. If I'd have to deal with stupid Lucci for as long as Kaku has I'd be pissed at him too.

It's okay, Kaku. You can kick his ass, I won't say anything.

But my point in bringing this up is that these little moments of Kaku being upset or annoyed with Lucci are building up to something much bigger. Kaku cannot catch a break, and in most of the scenes they're together in he's fed up with Lucci in some way.

Now let's talk about Kaku and Stussy.

He can say they aren't friends all he wants, but I beg to differ. We haven't necessarily seen a whole lot of CP0's interactions with each other outside of carrying out their missions, but there is an obvious connection between these two that I've grown fond of.

Kaku contemplating Stussy's 'Who do I live for?' is interesting -- he doesn't speak on this out loud, but clearly he's got something brewing in the ol' noggin.

This whole page is just wonderful. Also, I think that is the best face I have seen Kaku make. There's a lot to get into here.

So... I absolutely love that Stussy wanted to free Kaku, but what the hell does she mean by 'I know the first thing he'll do if he's released'?? Genuine question. I might have accidentally skimmed over something, because I'll admit I read egghead pretty fast (though I'm thinking about reading all of it a second time because there was just so much happening all at the same time that it got a little crazy) but I don't remember seeing anything else about what she thought Kaku was going to do.

Kaku was obviously not expecting Stussy to do this, as she was pretty much made their enemy because of her betrayal, but Edison's 'I'm sorry for making you betray that friendship' just makes me want to... like.. idk. Edison knew that Stussy and Kaku were good friends, which makes me think that Stussy has possibly talked about Kaku before to the Vegapunks?

I haven't really had a whole lot of time to think about this stuff so everything I say here I'm coming up with as I'm typing it -- it's more speculatory than the other sections.

I think Stussy asking to free Kaku is another case of rubbing salt into Kaku's wounds, albeit more indirect. Stussy cares about him, obviously, but I think what Edison said makes Kaku just do a reflection of his entire life.

Stussy betrayed Kaku, yet she still shows compassion for him because they were friends.

Kaku betrayed Paulie, but completely does the opposite of Stussy. He just completely cuts him off. Paulie and Kaku were friends. Stussy and Kaku are friends.

Despite being his 'enemy', Stussy wants the best for Kaku and tries to help him as best as she could.

This, I believe, makes Kaku do a 180. This situation with Stussy is what could have happened on Water 7 with Paulie, because if you guys remember, Paulie said he felt that Kaku and Lucci were still his friends, even after he'd witnessed CP9 beating up Iceberg.

That is why I think he looks so distressed after Edison apologizes for Stussy's betrayal to him, because he's betrayed his own friends multiple times now, and he's fully realized this isn't all that different from Water 7.

It sure does hurt to be the one betrayed, doesn't it? Now he knows how his buddies on Water 7 felt.

I also want to talk about Edison saying that Stussy's 'inner conflict is a calling card of humanity' (talking about having to choose between being on Kaku's side or being with the Vegapunks), and how Kaku has a little wobbly bubble with an ellipsis.

Has Kaku realized that having humanity might not be so bad? Cipher Pol agents, I'm assuming, aren't really supposed to have this concept of humanity, because they're supposed to be these almost superhuman monsters.

Or has he realized that he isn't like the other Cipher Pol agents, as he secretly does have a sense of humanity that he shoves down for the sake of being in CP0? If Lucci ever found out that Kaku really did have a sense of humanity he would probably deem him useless. However...

Lucci (for the first time ever, wow) shows compassion towards Kaku, being worried that Kaku would be killed in the midst of the chaos that was Egghead.

I always perceived Lucci to be the type to leave behind the wounded, as they weren't of use to him anymore, but he goes out of his way to ask Mars to spare Kaku, which was honestly very surprising. Maybe Lucci still has a speck of humanity in him. Perhaps there is hope.

You're seriously going to tell me that they aren't friends when they're both crying??

Also... do you know that one scene from Air Bud?? This scene between Kaku and Stussy reminded me of that the first time I read this chapter, lol.

Kaku is worried for Stussy's safety, as he knows that if Lucci finds her, he will kill her. And again with this -- what is Kaku going to do next?? I want to know, God dammit, JUST TELL ME!!

Is Kaku going to defy Lucci? Is he going to run away? TELL MEEEE!!

DUN DUN DUN!!!!!~~~

So Stussy is apparently dead, which, okay, when did that happen, and also, absolutely not, but why does Kaku look like he's seriously about to just unleash his rage on Lucci? Do it, please DO IT!! BEAT HIS ASS PLEASE. I HATE HIM SO. MUCH.

But the fact that he's resorted to talking in ellipses again with his face shaded, a huge frown and clenched fists is making me think that this is a breaking point for him. He's just so over Lucci and I would be too. Run, run for the hills Kaku!!!

Kaku's ellipsis bubble is also a teeny bit wobbly, and if you've ever read a comic you've probably noticed that the shape of the bubble pertains to the character's state, whether that be physical or mental, and their speech. But since he isn't talking, his wobbly bubble could mean (and I'm saying could because a lot of the bubbles in Egghead are misshapen, so take this with a grain of salt, this is just what I like to think) that his mental state is, well, not great.

So with a (presumably) dead friend, a long time of growing exasperation towards Lucci, and an already unstable mental state, I really hope Kaku can realize that a line has been crossed, so it's his turn to act.

So now, it's time for the conclusion.

Basically, I just want Kaku to be a good guy. He's so complex and I already like him so much as a character, and I would like him even more if he jumped to the other side. I feel that he's already halfway there. I hope that there might be some sort of redemption in store for Kaku and I will scream if it comes true. You might not think so, but I can dream!!

Anyways, that's my two cents! Or rather... my fifty cents.. or my dollar. That was a lot. Thanks so much for reading!

[omi-papus]

What to me strikes as the most impactful part of the Hope speech is the fact that Al-An dosent entierly need it. The player is not once given the impresion that Al-An has any intention of giving up. Hes even shown being offended by the idea in the deleted voice lines. But there is always this feeling that he is running purely on the obligations to continue. Of not being able to concive of stopping because what would become of him?

A few times I might have mentioned the fact that Al-An hasnt always been Al-An. Actually Al-An has only really existed at all for a very short time. There has been the part of the network that seems to be handy good at science, but all that Al-An is has been born out of crisis. Even before his disconection, he was set as the sole lead researcher of the cure for Karaah, that might have been the first time he was ever truly singled out as unique. Not one of ten thousand voices but a leader, an authority. An authority that failed. Hes a head researcher that couldnt complete his research.

He was then the one who disobeyed the collective orders. Not the networks decision but his. And subsequently the one at fault for the destruction of the laboratory and the release of the disease into the planet. These are framed not as the actions of the architects but of an individual, and he clearly belives this too. He blames only himself.

And then he was Human seed code-Almanac, a single string, alone, unable to do barely anything, and ridden with guilt, nostalgia and petrifying fear.

Al-An is a collection the worst of him. Born in times of crisis, cemented in catastrophic failure, and given a name in isolation.

Within the character we see in game there is both the collective and there is Al-An. His actions throughout the game are what is left of the collective, of the architects mission. The task of procuring a cure for the Karaah and bringing it home. A task that is inherent and unquestionable reguardless of the method. One that at no point left him. Al-An is all the rest. The bundle of autism that tries to do a sarcasm to get back at his human host, who finds the idea of being put inside a fish disturbing, who is full of guilt and terrified of being alone forever.

The mission of the architects was never going to stop. Whats left of the collectives objective is unshakable in the face of all odds. Al-An on the other hand can break. Al-An might not survive the fallout of his actions. The cure would be brought to the homeworld, and then it will be done. Mission acomplished. But then all that will be left is Al-An. He will be the one who will miss the sounds of his people, he will be the one who has to face extinction on his own if he is the last one. And Al-An cant do that. Not alone.

And Robin obviously dosent make this overly complicated distinction. She dosent know that the will of the architects will drag his corpse for as long as it has to to acomplish its goals. Because Robin dosent know the collectives will. Robin only know that pesky englishman sounding alien that bullies her about her joints.

Al-An had never been reached out to with kindness before. Al-An had never been aknowledged in the way that Robin does. In that scene, we see the first time Al-An has been told that he is worthy of any type of positivity. That he deserves some peace of mind while he completes his mission. That he dosent deserve to agonize over his fate when hes busy fighting for a better future.

On a surface level, Robin is telling him to not give up. But really when she tells him to have hope, she is telling the vulnerable, guilt ridden person behind the voice that he deserves to feel ok. That he gets to look forward to being with his family again, instead of dreading finding them dead. That he gets to be enthusiastic about finally getting home. That he can imagine his planet prospering and the sounds of the network as vibrant as ever.

Hes being told that he deserves that. That Al-An, disgraces scientis Al-An, gets to make it through this too. Al-An isnt just his failures but also all the reasons why he dosent just have to, but wants to save his people. Al-An is the one that misses the networks thrum, Al-An is the one that is afraid of loosing everything they worked for, Al-An is the one who remembers the Torloque parades and the pets they used to keep. Al-An is his feelings and his dreams. And those dont deserve to die either. Because in that moment, Robin heard Al-An starting to slip. And Al-An contrary to the collectives will does need to be told that. He would have died if he allowed himself to suffer through that distructive dispair alone. Left a husk of himself driven only by the singular instincs to finish a job.

“Have hope” means “You dont have to suffer through this. You dont have to neglect and emotionally hurt yourself in order to succeed. All the things that make you you, good and bad, are important, and deserve happyness.”

Hope, is a coping mechanism designed for people after all.

[vickyvicarious]

OKAY, SO. Today's episode is one I've been looking forward to, and it definitely lived up to expectations. I absolutely adored how you can hear Jonathan at the end of his rope, all restraint fraying away. The rage in his voice when he wishes for a weapon "that I might destroy him" - not even 'kill', but 'destroy'. Partially that may be that he realizes Dracula is already 'dead', but even so that is some evocative violent word choice!

Speaking of Dracula, what an incredible performance today. I absolutely loved so many line deliveries. Something about his voice a little softer as he says "my carriage shall come for you," even though it's obviously a lie. Jonathan absolutely cannot stand his lies any longer - the way he spits out "Phh, sincerity!" is amazing. His voice as he's asking to go is so intense, so sharp and insistent but also pleading all the while, you can hear the anger and the fear. But Dracula is return is just so smooth, really really gets across that charm Jonathan is so suspicious of today. Soft, smooth, diabolical. The way Dracula stops to laugh after saying, "speed the parting guest, eh?" SO EVIL OF HIM. And the way he fuckin' mocks everything Jonathan has been through for the past two months, mocks the game he has forced him to play all this time, when he says "sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it." The sarcasm in those two words is astounding. I WANNA PUNCH HIM IN HIS STUPID EVIL FACE. Incredible. Absolutely top-tier performance.

The SFX were so good too, I absolutely loved how long the chains and such at the door went on, really drawing home how securely it has been shut all this time. And it gets even better because the length of it repeating as Dracula shuts the door again feels so final. Not to mention the wolves: I was loving the snarl of a few of them as Jonathan says they got angrier. The way Jonathan lingered/emphasized just slightly on "their red jaws" - similar to, but not as much as he did for Dracula and the vampire ladies, just enough to really cement the parallel but also show their fear doesn't come with the same kind of fascination.

And Jonathan realizes he will die here. He is too afraid to willingly walk into it. He feels so utterly defeated by this realization; he'd thought he was ready. He'd thought he had nothing left to lose, has already risked death in his last exploration, knows he does not want to allow Dracula and the vampire ladies to kill him at any cost, but... when faced with this certain death (which he witnessed only a few days ago) he can't do it. And it feels like a moral defeat as much as, more than any disappointment at a failed escape. He is absolutely miserable and you can hear it so well in his voice. He literally has to hide his face. He cannot bear to speak to Dracula again, just accepts the escort back to his room in miserable silence. It's agonizing.

And then Dracula smiles, and kisses his hand to Jonathan.

The defeat is so complete and so horrible. And then salt is ground into the wound with the conversation Jonathan overhears outside his doorway. The laughter. All four of them laughing at him. It's an almost childishly blatant type of cruelty for the vampire women to stick around until he sees them and then continue to laugh right in his face before running away - they can vanish into dust! They are choosing to scamper off like this because it feels more fun to them! It's awful and the voice acting is absolutely marvelous.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Why did magnus choose Lestat? Why did he go through so many humans that looked like him?

Hey!

Magnus‘ selection criteria - quite the fascinating (and harrowing) subject!

So (quick recap):

Magnus is a respected and appreciated scholar alchemist. Rhoshamandes protects him but refuses to give him the Dark Gift, which Magnus then, old and supposedly unpleasantly looking, steals from Benedict. (And Rhoshamandes must have loved Magnus quite a lot for not killing him for that!)

Magnus is an outcast. I think Rhosh must have protected him enough still for the Children of Satan not to bother him, but four centuries later he is alone, and decides to make an heir. And not just any heir.

Now Magnus selection criteria are:

Blond, blue-eyed, good-looking, and lean.

These are the basics. Stereotypical and superficial beauty standards, you might say.

There is a lot that can be said about these criteria, and I don’t think the show will shy away from the obvious aryan-idealistic connotations, nor the callbacks to the Nazi regime (and, I mean, season 2 is set during WW2). (*)

Magnus chose Lestat as one of those matching that superficial standard. He's not the first victim, there are a lot of rotting corpses in that tower, as Lestat in the show also said: his coloring, his physique.

There is one aspect though which saves Lestat from death - and that is (or at least seems to be) his fight with the wolves. The "cosmic error" as he himself calls it in the books. That is why Magnus also takes the coat, too, lined with the fur of those wolves. It's why Magnus calls him "wolfkiller", in his mind, and to his face.

One can only speculate that the other victims did not have that ... will, the fierceness that is needed for a feat like killing a pack of wolves. Or, maybe, it was the "light" in Lestat, that which is mentioned again and again in the chronicles, and which draws and burns others. Either way, this event probably tipped the scales in Lestat's favor, if you want to call it that.

Lestat in the show says that he "kept him for a week", and then threw him back with the corpses, to be fed on every night.

Everyone who knows the book knows that the turning scene is written as a rape with forced orgasm. It will be horrific to watch on the show, no matter how they do it, I already found the scene in ep6 hard to watch. (I was prompted to write about this a while ago, and so I wrote about the fallout and that turning in a fic, here, if you're interested.)

The "week" also means Lestat had to be shaved prior to turning. Haircut, maybe. And he likely did not get that much food, which would make him even leaner.

Now, the shaving (in the show-timeframe) is also a conscious choice by Magnus. (And it will be interesting if they pick it up, and how, for the show.) He obviously did not want his new heir to carry a beard. He wanted him to match that beauty standard in his head, the one he probably wanted for himself, if his later taking-up of these physical attributes (I talked about this here) is any indication.

And, of course... "sunlight in your hair, and the blue sky fixed forever in your eyes".

The two things a vampire (pre moving color pictures at least) could never see again. The blue sky, and sunlight.

(*) There is also the interesting aspect that Daniel could be at least half jewish - and Armand is now or has chosen to be Muslim. A very ... present day commentary that the show will surely hook into in some kind of fashion.

And, as a note:

All of this also pays into the question of the theoretical possibility of a color-consciously cast “black Lestat“, which I commented on here, as well.

Because Magnus had his… criteria.

And Lestat suffers from them, for centuries. Has PTSD from them, up to the last book. Tries to hide this behind sarcasm, and humor. Changing that… would (with several other considerations) change the whole of the chronicles.

[melanieathene]

Suptober 2023 Day 13 - Flirt

“Refill, sugar?” the waitress trilled, leaning over the table so her cleavage was perfectly in line of sight. Or would have been, had Castiel bothered to raise his eyes from his phone.

“No thank you,” he murmured politely. “Dean, look at this.” He passed his phone over to the hunter. “I think I've found our witch.”

“Oh, witches are yesterday's news,” the waitress said, determined not to be ignored. “So dark and gloomy. I'm going as a mermaid this Halloween. Hair down to here, all curvy and sparkly and – ”

“The bill, please,” Dean interrupted.

The waitress pouted, but retreated to the counter.

“If she'd batted her eyes at you any harder, those fake lashes would have fallen in your coffee,” Dean grumbled

Castiel tilted his head to one side. “I don't understand that reference.”

“She was flirting with you, Cas,” Sam said helpfully.

“Oh. I didn't notice.”

“Dean sure did,” Sam chuckled. “What's the matter, Dean? Jealous that she didn't flirt with you?”

“She's not my type.”

“What? Young, blonde, pretty, stacked. What's not to like?”

“The bill, sir,” the waitress tossed a slip of paper at Dean. “And if you decide you'd rather hang out with a mermaid, sugar...” She tucked a second paper in the angel's pocket, and mimed 'call me'.

Dean tossed some money on the table – just enough to cover their meal, plus an insultingly small gratuity. Sam and Castiel trailed him out the door. As they crossed the parking lot, Castiel retrieved the paper from his pocket and studied it curiously. “Is this another flirtation?” he mused.

“That's a damn sight more than flirting, Cas. That's a brazen attempt at seduction.” Dean snatched the phone number from Castiel's hand and ripped it into tiny bits which he scattered to the wind.

“That's littering, Dean.”

“Sue me,” Dean said and stalked off without so much as a backward glance.

“Sam?”

“Yes, Cas?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

Sam patted the angel's shoulder. “No, Cas. Dean's just being a dick. You know, it's not too late to go back inside and get her phone number.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Never mind, Cas,” he said.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean greeted as Castiel entered the kitchen. “Coffee?” He waved the pot questioningly.

“Yes, please,” Castiel replied as he took a seat.

Dean leaned over the table until their foreheads almost bumped and deposited a steaming mug close to Castiel's hand.

Castiel wrapped both hands around the mug and breathed in the enticing aroma before taking a cautious sip. “What is it about coffee that makes its molecules so pleasing?” he wondered, taking a second, deeper swallow. By the time Dean had stuffed the last of the bacon in his mouth, Castiel's mug was empty.

“Refill, 'sugar'?” Dean trilled, with a wink and a light touch that caressed the angel's shoulder.

Sam's head popped out from behind a newspaper in time to see a funny look cross Castiel's face.

Call me, Dean mimed after refilling the mug. He turned away, setting the pot back in it's holder before calmly sauntering out of the room.

“W-was... was that a flirtation?” Castiel sputtered.

“I don't know,” Sam said, shaking his head from side to side. “It could have been... but, then again, sarcasm is equally likely.” Sam shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I see.” Castiel sat quietly sipping his coffee for a few minutes, before suddenly pushing his chair back and rising to his feet.

“Where are you going, Cas?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

“To speak with Dean.”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

But Sam's words fell on empty air. Castiel was already halfway down the hall.

He didn't bother knocking.

He burst into Dean's room with such force that the door crashed back against the wall, cracking the plaster. A second bang slammed the door shut again.

Dean looked up from from where he was seated at the end of the bed, a partially assembled gun held in his hands. He dropped a cleaning rag to the floor, but showed no other reaction to the obviously angry angel's rude intrusion.

“What was that?” Castiel demanded.

“What was what?”

“Don't play stupid. You know very well what I mean.” “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Why don't you spell it out for me, Cas.”

“In the kitchen... Was that a flirtation, Dean?”

“Would you like it to be?”

“You're making fun of me.”

“No,” Dean admitted quietly. “I'm not. I'm really not. Answer my question, Cas. What if it was a flirtation. How would you respond to that?”

The fear in Dean's green eyes was obvious as he waited for a reply.

Castiel found himself at a loss for words, his silence lasting so long that Dean carefully set the gun aside and rose to his feet, retreating to the far side of the room.

“Never mind,” Dean muttered. “Forget it. I'll just –we'll just – Let's pretend this conversation never happened.”

“I don't like ambiguity,” Castiel finally responded, advancing step by slow step. “I don't 'get' flirtations or sarcasm. I prefer honesty. Directness. What I'd do, how I'd feel, if –if – I truly believed you were interested in me, wanted me... the way that I want you...” The last few words were spoken so softly they almost were inaudible. As they trailed off into silence, Castiel stood as still as a statue, and let his eyes do the speaking for him.

Dean closed the distance between them and drew Castiel into a tight embrace. His lips were warm and tender as they connected with the angel's: negating the need for any further words, nurturing the hope that shone in Castiel's eyes, erasing the fear that had clouded his own.

“Is this direct enough for you, 'sugar'?” Dean whispered as their lips finally parted.

“Yes,” Castiel breathed, and leaned in for another kiss.

[offside-the-lines]

Am I Ready (To Be Loved) | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Nate is not known to be impulsive, especially when it comes to love. So what happens when he gets a crazy idea while hungover the day after the Avalanche Stanley Cup parade. a/n: Happy Holidays folks! My first fic back (on this new blog) is a reworking of a fic I wrote for my Winter Prompt request last year (for @fallinallincurls). Thought I needed to start somewhere. This is obviously set in 2022 because I can't stand the idea of the avs squad being different. It also features some of our fave tropes. Pairing: Nathan McKinnon x Female!OC Words: 8K Warnings: alcohol Requests: Open | Masterlist

Charlotte hated these fancy functions. The schmoozing and the small talk were things that made her feel like she was going to crawl out of her skin. No matter how much she would normally enjoy conversation, this just felt fake. And she knew how ridiculous it was. She worked in media. She was always in front of cameras. She took this job knowing this was a requirement. It doesn’t change the truth that, at her core, she would rather be on the couch watching some TV show on Netflix.

Although this wasn’t the first formal event she’d ever been to, this was the first Colorado Avalanche donors’ function. It didn’t help that she had only been working as a correspondent for Altitude TV for a few months; so many knew her name and her face, but no one really knew her personally. So, it was just smile, small talk, comment on the Avs, rinse and repeat.

After an hour or so of this, she was feeling done. Heading to the bar for a drink and found a cocktail table in the corner of the room, tucked near the obscenely large Christmas Tree, where she could just stand and watch. Charlotte looked around the room and wondered how long she had to stay before it was not inappropriate to leave.

“Hate these parties too, eh?” a familiar voice rang beside her.

Despite her shattered solitude, the voice brought out a smile on her face. “What do you mean? I don’t hate this?” she replied, not putting in much effort to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She turned to face the voice and the sight almost startled her a little as she felt her face warm. There stood Nathan Mackinnon in his perfectly tailored navy suit, eyes shining in the dim lighting. She takes a drink quickly to distract herself, reminding herself to be a professional.

“Sure,” he chuckled, “hiding in a dark corner isn’t avoiding the party, Charlotte.”

She shrugs as she turns her eyes back to the party.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers in her ear, making her neck tingle a little, “I really don’t like these parties either. I would rather be at home on the couch with my dog watching TV.”

As he leaned back to sip his drink, she turned to him in surprise. “Oh yeah? Like what? More hockey tape?”

After a bit of light banter, they find that they have the same favorite show, much to Charlotte’s surprise. In the dim corner of a fancy event, they are quoting their favorite lines to each other, trying their hardest not to burst out laughing, hiding themselves behind their drinks so as to not draw too much attention at such a fancy event. Charlotte’s laughing so hard she snorts a little, causing Nate to look at her in surprise before continuing to laugh even harder, drawing some looks from the donors and teammates closest to them. After a while, when they both finally calm down, she feels herself relax a little.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a few more moments before Nate spoke up again. “You know, Charlotte. You ask me questions all the time, but I don’t think I really know anything about you other than your name and your job title.”

“I mean, I only really ever ask you questions about the game or the team,” she responds.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me,” he said pointedly, but softly. He had a point; it was her job to know as much about the players as possible.

“Okay, I know about NHL Hockey Player, Avs’ Center, Forward Extraordinaire Nathan “Nate the Dogg” Mackinnon,” she says, flashing her hands in front as if to signal an imaginary banner, “I don’t know Nate “a dude who sits on his couch with his dog watching dumb shows” Mackinnon.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” he responds deep in thought. “Fine, how about we play 20 questions? You ask me a question; I ask you a question.”

“How very high school, Nathan,” she pauses to think about it. She wasn’t really sure how to feel about this new friendship. On the one hand, it is her job to get to know the players. Although, she was pretty sure that the fraternizing was only supposed to be in professional contexts. On the other hand, her heart was beating so hard that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. And at the end of the day, it was Nathan Mackinnon, and he wanted to get to know her. Besides, she knew that he didn’t really date anyway, so she felt safe that there was one of them keeping their feelings in check. Eventually, she responds with a nod, “Sure.”

“Okay!” He said excitedly, his blue eyes lighting up, “Where are you from? Where did you grow up and go to college and stuff?”

“Nathan, that’s two questions. Should I deduct points from you?”

“There are points now?”

“I’m just kidding.”

And so, they went back and forth getting to know each other, talking animatedly, and laughing heartily, until they got through the 20 questions each. At one point, they had migrated to a table to continue sitting down because Nate noticed she was shifting on her feet from the heels. Charlotte was pretty certain that Nate now knew her better than anyone else in Denver.

Eventually, EJ came over and tapped Nate on the shoulder at which point she looked up and realized that most of his teammates and donors had left and they were a few of the last people remaining in the event space.

“Hey,” EJ smiled at you in his signature toothless way, “good to see you’re having fun, Charlotte.”

“Thanks, EJ,” she smiled back.

“Mac Daddy, you’re kind of my ride home, so… are you ready to leave?” EJ said laughing and looked at Charlotte, “I don’t think I’ve ever had to pull Nathan here away from a party before. He is usually begging me to leave.”

Nate bumped his elbow into EJ, not drawing much of a response, as he quickly looked away from her. She could have sworn his cheeks were turning a little pink, but that could also be the lighting.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s late and I want to be up for morning skate tomorrow, unlike you lazy idiots,” Nathan grumbled standing up.

She stood up too, only now realizing how tired you were. “Yeah, damn, it’s late. Well, I had a great time talking to you Nathan,” sending him a warm smile and a nod, “EJ. See you two later.”

As she started walking away, she heard some whispers behind her before Nate called out, “Hey, Charlotte, you good to get home? I mean, do you need a ride?”

“Oh, um… Actually… Sure. That would be nice. Thanks!”

She saw EJ whisper something in Nate’s ear before he was quickly shoved away. Suddenly feeling awkward, she trailed behind them quietly to Nate’s car. As soon as it was in sight, EJ called shotgun and started making a run for it, slipping a little on the ice, making Charlotte and Nate snort with laughter.

Nate offered a hand to guide her across the slippery ground and opened the car door for her, keeping his hand on her as she climbed in. She directed Nate to her apartment, thanking him and EJ quickly as she left. Once she got into her apartment, Charlotte leaned against the door and just smiled for a bit.

*          *          *

Meanwhile, in the car, EJ was basically yelling at Nate.

“Dude, you dog, what was that?”

“EJ, stop.”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never seen you talk to someone for that long. Not even Barrie or Sid.”

“She was easy to talk to. And it was a good way to get through the event.”

“Nate, don’t give me that bullshit.” EJ’s voice is rarely serious, but it is now.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” Nate shrugged.

The rest of the ride to EJ’s house is quiet and as Nate pulled into the driveway, EJ finally spoke up again, “Tell me you at least got her number.”

“Shit,” Nate let out under his breath before he could stop himself.

“Oh my god, you idiot. You didn’t get her number.”

Nate let out a groan and tapped his forehead firmly on his steering wheel in frustration. As EJ shook his head, and said his goodbyes, Nate’s head was whirring with thoughts. There was no smooth way to ask for her number now. It’s like he missed an exit on the freeway and there was no way off now. The alcohol and the adrenaline meant he didn’t sleep much that night and, for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t make it to the optional morning skate, much to the surprise of everyone.

The rest of the season flew by as the team soared through the playoffs. Nate kept thinking about ways to ask Charlotte for her number but just couldn’t stop overthinking it and psyching himself out; eventually deciding to table the topic until after the season was over to focus on the Cup. But he reveled in every intermission or postgame interview where they got to talk, or the little conversations they would get to have in the arena or on the plane. Occasionally, he’d even slip in a hug, taking in her perfume, under the guise of celebration.

The gossip had now spread through the group — not surprising since EJ has never once kept a secret — and had been an ongoing chirp for Nate. It didn’t help that at the two galas since, Nate was the first one there excitedly scanning the room, but Charlotte wasn’t at either. He’d learn she was covering the Nuggets or the Rapids those nights and would then leave as early as possible.

It got even harder to not think about her as he neared the end of the season, where every phone call with his mom would eventually turn to his cousin’s wedding in the summer and whether he was going to bring a date. Family weddings were the one time he felt he couldn’t leave early, forcing himself to endure the suffering that was being single in your late twenties and watching people be in love. Not to mention all the comments and questions: wanting gossip, wanting a date, feeling sorry for him.

*          *          *

Charlotte was happy with the casual platonic friendship that she had found with Nate. She always looked forward to talking with him at games because he was always more relaxed with her than the other boys, even occasionally giving her a sweaty hug after a good, exciting win. Her co-workers had made some comments about how unusual it was, but she just chalked it up to them knowing each other better now.

The job kept her busy, busier than anticipated. And it felt like the year had flown by before she found herself at the celebration gala for the newly crowned Stanley Cup Champions. The atmosphere was different from the last event she had been to. That one was for schmoozing. This was only for celebrating. The energy in the room was intoxicating and she had a big smile plastered to her face as soon as she walked in.

Charlotte made her way through the crowd and congratulated everyone she saw and recognized. Eventually, she stumbled into Gabe.

“Congratulations, Gabe!” you yelled.

“Lotteee! Thank you!” he yelled back, pulling her in for a tight hug before spinning her around. He was so drunk, but he did look unbelievably happy. When he finally put her down, he grabbed her by the arm and very dramatically whispered in her ear while pointing, “Nate’s that way.”

She looked at him confused and surprised, but he didn’t let her say anything before not so gently pushing her towards Nate. And she didn’t protest, because when she finally saw him, she felt her heart speed up again. He looked jubilant, swaying slightly with EJ, face pink and hair messy. She had learned over the last month or so that she really liked the way he looked with the playoff beard.

Charlotte wasn’t sure whether to disturb whatever EJ and Nate were doing, but once EJ saw her, he let out a screech so loud she had no choice but to turn toward them. “Charlotte! Lotte! Lott Ness Monster! Come here!” But once you got here, he immediately left, vanishing to leave her standing in front of the very flushed Nathan Mackinnon.

“Hi Nathan, congratulations! Well deserved. It’s been an absolute privilege watching you this season,” she said, unsure what to do as her heart kept racing faster at the way drunk Nate was looking at her.

“Oh, stop with that professional speech and give me a hug,” he slurred, pulling her in tightly.

She chuckled and let herself enjoy the warmth and the firm contours of his body against her before forcing herself to pull away. He only let her get so far, leaving one arm still wrapped around her shoulders.

“It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself at an event like this,” she said softly.

“Well, I had to! You weren’t at the last two of these, so I had to find a way to entertain myself with EJ,” he said, pouting. She had certainly never seen him pout, but she was even more surprised that he noticed and cared.

“Oh! Yeah, I had work. Sorry.”

“I know. Who even cares about the Nuggets.” he mumbled under his breath before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “GO AVS!” that was followed by a loud round of cheers. After a few seconds, he piped up excited again, “Are you enjoying yourself today?”

“Um… I think so! It’s nice to see everyone so happy and energetic.” Her eyes scanned the crowd, smiling until she caught Gabe and EJ staring and pointing at them. Before she had the chance to ask Nate what that was about, he was pulling her towards Mikko on the other side of the room.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks, laughs, and the warm firm feeling of Nate’s arm around her shoulders. With each passing drink, she found herself leaning into it more. She was sure her face was so red that it rivaled JT’s hair. But if the boys noticed, which they were too drunk to notice, they didn’t mention it. And even if they did, she doesn’t remember.

*          *          *

The next morning Nate woke up with the worst hangover of his life. He had collapsed on top of all his sheets fully naked, and so he also woke up with a slight feeling of shame and dread at what he might have done the night before. When he finally reached over to check his phone, it was blowing up with messages.

gabe the babe (INCOMING): dude did nate finally hook up with the lott ness monster

JT (INCOMING): omg nate, you have to tell us if you did

mooseman (INCOMING): he definitely did, did you not see how he literally didn’t stop touching her the whole night

Nate buried his head in his sheets and groaned, trying to rack his brain for memories of himself being an idiot around Charlotte last night. But he was drawing a blank. After minutes, he finally lifted his head again and opened a private text to EJ.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): ej, please tell me you remember if I did something stupid last night

EJ (INCOMING): yeah. you did.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): FUCK what did I do

EJ (INCOMING): you didn’t take lotte home with you you fucking idiot

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): what

EJ (INCOMING): you just fucking disappeared in an uber without even saying goodbye. and EYE had to make sure she got home okay

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): oh, well it could’ve been worse

EJ (INCOMING): HOW

EJ (INCOMING): HOW COULD IT HAVE BEEN WORSE

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): idk if I did something stupid or said something bad

EJ (INCOMING): dude, you have got to ask her out, you two clearly like each other

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): i have no idea what you’re talking about. we're just friends. we just work together. like you and me

EJ (INCOMING): YEAH RIGHT DOGG if you were touching me all night like that, we would be having a very different conversation ;)

EJ (INCOMING): please tell me you at least have her number now

Nate paused and thought back to the night before, but it was such a blur he didn’t know. But when he looked in his contacts, her number wasn’t there.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): nope

EJ (INCOMING): you are so fucking hopeless. i hope you find a pair at home this summer so you will finally do something about this crush

EJ (INCOMING): or maybe when we come back in the fall, she won’t be so single anymore and it won’t matter

Nate felt his stomach turn and he groaned. The hangover finally hit him but he was typing a sarcastic response when another message interrupted his thought.

Sarah (INCOMING): congrats again bro! are you bringing someone to the wedding?

Nate (OUTGOING): wow, really cutting to the chase this morning.

Nate (OUTGOING): and no.

Sarah (INCOMING): what you’re telling me a stanley cup winner can’t find a date

Nate groaned again and muffled a scream in his pillow. He knew that his sister and mom would not drop this subject from the moment he got home. He knew that they would probably try to set him on dates, or worse introduce him to every single woman at the wedding. He lay there, head on his pillow, for a long time, until finally, he had an absolutely insane idea. An idea that can only come to someone after the happiest day of their life followed by the biggest hangover of their life.

Nate (OUTGOING): fine, I’ll bring someone

Sarah (INCOMING): OH MY GOD WHAT WHO

Sarah (INCOMING): NATHAN RAYMOND MACKINNON IF YOU’VE BEEN DATING SOMEONE THIS WHOLE TIME AND HIDING IT FROM ME, I’LL KILL YOU. I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE WON.

Nate (OUTGOING): nope, not telling

Sarah (INCOMING): you are a child and i hate you

Nate (OUTGOING): I love you. See you soon.

Sarah (INCOMING): URGH

Sarah (INCOMING): Love you too. I’m calling mom.

*          *          *

Charlotte woke up with a splitting headache and the room spinning at 6 am. And despite how horribly she felt, she couldn’t get back to sleep. She could still feel Nate’s arm on her shoulder, and his lips against her ear as he whispered something unintelligible, and the scent of his cologne lingering on her hair would waft into her memory every few seconds making her heart skip. She was absolutely certain that he was more drunk than she was, and that he was a touchy drunk. She felt even a little guilty for taking advantage of his touchiness, getting as much as she could last night.

After a few hours of being unable to get back to sleep, she peeled herself up and drew herself a bath with a cup of tea. She still wasn’t able to stomach food yet, but she felt her body relaxing in the warm water, finally letting Nate slip from her mind. Eventually, she got up and padded around the house thinking about the long summer ahead. It was her first summer with not a lot of work to do, and since it was her first year in Denver, she also didn’t really know many people or have any concrete plans.

She had just sat down at her computer to research ideas when she heard a buzz on her apartment intercom. She looked down at her phone confused, but there were no texts there from the few friends she had made so far.

“Hello?” she stutters cautiously into the intercom.

“Oh my god, thank fuck,” a familiar voice rang back, “it’s you. I’ve been buzzing every apartment and I swear your neighbors think I’m a crazy person.”

“What?”

“Um. Oh. Sorry, Charlotte. It’s Nate.”

She was stunned silent. Stunned and confused.

“Um… Nathan Mackinnon…” He filled the silence nervously, “You know… From the Avalanche.”

That snapped her out of her trance as a laugh bubbled out of her. “Oh my god Nathan, I know who you are. Sorry. I was just confused. How do you know where I live?”

“Um, well when we first met, I dropped you off here. So, I made the gamble that you still lived here and just buzzed every apartment to see.”

“Oh. Wow,” she says, stunned, confused and flattered, “Um, is everything okay?”

“Ah, yeah.” He paused. “You know, I just realized how dumb this was. I’m really sorry to disturb you—”

“No!” she says louder than she intended, “No, Nathan, wait. Let me buzz you up.”

“Oh, okay, yeah! Thanks!”

She paced around her entryway, thoughts racing. The door knocks still startled her, and as she walked over, she looked down at her sweatpants and realized there definitely was no time to change and prayed she looked okay.

“Hi, Nathan,” she smiled, opening the door, “Um, do you want to come in?”

“Oh, sure,” he hesitates and makes a gesture to hug her before chickening out, pulling away and stepping past her.

“So, what brings you to my humble abode today?”

“Your apartment is cute.”

“Thanks. It’s not NHL superstar level, but it’s pretty good to me.”

He chuckles and leans a hip on the kitchen island, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His eyes were firmly trained on the ground. She wasn’t really sure what to say, so she moved behind him to start making them both some tea. He studies her as she moves around and wonders how it’s possible she looks so good in your sweatpants and messy bun when he feels like his entire guts might just drop out of his body.

Eventually, he spoke up, “Um, so I realized I didn’t have your number.”

This made her laugh, a proper belly laugh. “What,” she manages to get out, “you came all the way here because you don’t have my number.”

“Well…” he hesitates, “Yeah. I mean, I never asked for it I guess.”

“Okay, do you want it now?” she was still laughing.

“Um, yes?” He was shifting on his feet, rubbing his neck with his hand, leaning awkwardly on the countertop.

“Okay,” she reached a hand out.

He looks at her confused and gives it a slap.

“That was for your phone, silly. Not for a five,” she was laughing even harder now. And his cheeks turned bright red as he handed her his phone, not meeting her eyes. She passes the phone back to him along with a cup of tea, “There you go. So… What was the huge rush? You could’ve emailed me or something for it.”

He paused and laughed, “Honestly, I didn’t even think of that. I guess my brain doesn’t work very well when I’m hungover.”

Charlotte took a seat next to him on the kitchen island as they sipped their teas.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not why I came over. I mean it, but it isn’t the main reason.”

“Okay?” she encouraged.

“I had a really stupid idea and it was stupid at the time, but now I’m here it’s even dumber. So, I’ll just settle for the number.”

“Okay, Nathan, you can’t just say something that cryptic and not tell me.”

His face went bright red again and he shuffled in place. “No, it’s okay.”

“Okay, no. You don’t get to interrupt my hangover recovery and not tell me why.”

He sighed and looked away. After a while, he mumbled under his breath very quickly, “Fine. Icameheretoaskyouifyou’dcometomycousin’swedding.”

“What?” she said, not sure if she misinterpreted the mumbles or if she was dreaming.

“Um… Well, my cousin, back in Nova Scotia, is getting married in a few weeks. And my mom and sister keep bothering me to bring someone. And I just had this stupid idea. Because you’re the only person I’ve had fun with at those big events. So, this morning, in my post-Stanley Cup alcohol delirium I thought Hey, I should ask Charlotte if she wants to help me survive a social event and get my parents off my ass about not having a date? So here I am. But obviously, that was insane. So don’t worry about it.”

Charlotte looked at him, mouth open, in shock for longer than acceptable, and felt her own cheeks redden. A little lightheaded, before she could really stop to think, she responded, “Sure! I mean why not? What’s the harm in me going? I don’t have any plans.”

His head snapped up to meet her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and Charlotte is captivated by the way his sharp blues light up in response. It was when she saw the smile take over his face and her heart sped up that she knew this was probably a huge mistake. But a mistake she didn’t want to take back.

*          *          *

“So, how long have you two cuties been dating?” the fifth person in a row asked. Charlotte wasn’t sure if this was an aunt or a family friend, but she forced the smile back on her face as she responded.

“Oh, we’re not dating. We work together, kind of.”

The lady looked between the two of them, and Charlotte could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle again as she was acutely aware of Nate’s hand resting on her lower back.

“She’s here as my date, yes, but we aren’t dating. We’re just good friends,” he replies gently but firmly, the same way he had been doing all weekend, before changing the subject.

But she was lost in thought. She had been here for a few days, and she had to admit that Nova Scotia was beautiful, and Nate’s family and friends were wonderful. Despite not knowing Nate super well, she had never felt out of place. He had always made sure she was included in conversations, explaining anything that felt like an inside joke. She thought back to all the times she had met a boyfriend’s family — there hadn’t been that many, but enough to know that this was far better than any of them did.

Nate had been awkward and hesitant at first, jumping away every time he touched her by accident on the plane ride over and flinching when their knuckles brushed when he went to help her grab her luggage. But he slowly allowed himself to loosen up a little, reading her lack of discomfort as a good sign. He always prided himself on acting like a gentleman; even though women complained that he was stiff and unromantic, he tried. He found himself putting in an extra effort to hold open the door for her, to pull out a chair for her, to offer an elbow as she walked on the uneven pavement.

If Nate was in his head about every move he made, Charlotte was ten times more in her head. They had only really spent time together at work and work functions. And she wasn’t sure if that’s why something felt different here, more intimate, or if she was just imagining it. She was starting to feel like he was going out of his way to touch her; laying a hand on her knee when they were sitting next to each other, tapping her elbow to show her something, keeping a hand on her back when they were standing.

She had tried her hardest not to lean into his touch every time, but she couldn’t deny the comfort his large hand on her back felt—god, was his hand always this large. It was never too low as to be intrusive; just resting chastely on her mid back to remind her that he was there and was ready to take a break from the socializing at any point.

Whether she was imagining it or not, it was starting to drive her insane. Her skin constantly felt buzzing and hot, tingling in the places he touched, electrified in the places closest to him that craved his touch.

Nate’s low voice in her ear startled her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?” she responded as she felt her neck and ear flush with the brush of his lips on her ear.

“Oh, I was just asking if you want to go for a walk,” he murmured, “you’re looking a little overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, sure,” she breathed, her voice coming out a little shaky with how close his tall frame was to her.

And so, she reached out and took his extended elbow as they slipped out of the rehearsal dinner and wandered down to the waterfront in silence.

“I can totally see why you love it here,” she finally said.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“It’s beautiful. The water. With the lights reflecting. And all the beautiful trees. And the fresh air. I can understand why you love coming here in the summer.”

“Yeah, it’s truly something,” he looked over at her with an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were warm and soft. It looked like he wanted to say something for a second before he shook his head and looked away. “I’m glad you came with me. You make these big events bearable.”

“Just bearable, Nathan?” she laughed, trying to break the tension in the air she couldn’t really explain. And his chuckles were quick to join hers in the warm summer air.

And just like that, they fell into a comfortable rhythm again, laughing and chatting. Eventually, he walked her back to the hotel and their adjoining rooms.

“Well, here you go, m’lady,” he joked, letting his arm fall from her for the first time in a while. He began to turn towards his room but hesitated for a second before turning back and pulling her into a tight hug. She let herself melt into the hug, embracing the warm buzzing feeling in her chest as she felt his larger frame engulf her. He didn’t let go when she thought he was going to, instead whispering in her ear, “Thank you.”

“Thank me for what, Nathan?”

“For coming with me. For being so good with my family, even though they keep asking intrusive questions. For just being you,” he said, pulling back. They were standing so close together that she could see every shade of blue in his eyes as they looked at her intently. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to her lips briefly before the smallest sharp intake of breath he tried to hide as he untangled from her. She could feel her body ache a little as her cheeks burned.

She didn’t know if it was the glasses of wine or the dizzying tension, but before she could stop herself, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course, Nathan,” she murmured, “good night.” She smiled as she turned away and opened her hotel room door as quickly as possible.

She didn’t dare to take a peek back at him, but if she had, she would have seen his eyes wide, and cheeks flushed in shock. Instead, she quickly ducked into the room, shutting the door behind her, leaning back against the cold wood, and closing her eyes. What the fuck am I doing, she said to herself, Nate is a sweet guy, who I work with. I’m just doing him a favor. And he clearly thinks I’m just a good friend, as he keeps saying to everyone. Get it together.

She walked away and started getting ready for bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, tossing and turning as her mind raced through the moments of the day, all the little touches and glances and the sparkle in Nate’s blue eyes.

 *         *          *

The following day was the wedding, and the morning passed comfortably despite neither of them acknowledging the moment they both wanted to talk about so badly. Soon, she found herself sitting beside him in the church, watching the beautiful bride stand next to her adoring groom.

While the ceremony went on, Nate was having a hard time staying out of his thoughts as the celebrant talked about love and marriage and as the happy couple exchanged adoring words with each other. It was not that he hated weddings, not at all; in fact, he loved them. He loved the celebration and the emotion. But as the years went on, it became a stunning reminder of what he did not have. With every wedding and every failed relationship in between, he felt more alone, like maybe something was wrong with him.

Charlotte noticed that Nate seemed emotional, lost in his thoughts. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but she could sense that he was troubled. At some point during the ceremony, when Nate found himself particularly emotional, he had reached his hand over and grasped hers. She had to try hard to hold back the small gasp that threatened to escape her lips. But seeing his troubled expression, she squeezed his hand. And, inexplicably to her, his hand never left hers, not during the rest of the ceremony, or the walk over to the cocktail hour space. He only reluctantly let go to help her to her seat once they got to the reception.

Although they both enjoyed the reception food, they had both been so deep in their own thoughts that their conversation with the table was stilted and almost awkward. Eventually, as the night wore on, and the gentle fuzz of liquor started to take over, they both started to relax. Nate, after starting and stopping for almost 15 minutes, finally asked her to dance; his heart rate racing as she excitedly nodded yes.

Which is how they found themselves on the dancefloor for over an hour. At first, it was awkward. They were standing a foot apart, dancing independently; she, laughing at Nate’s horrible dance moves, and Nate, feeling electrified by the way her body moved. Eventually, they got closer and closer together until they were swaying in each other’s arms to some horrible Mariah Carey song, making snide remarks in each other’s ears and not caring how obnoxiously loud they were laughing at the jokes.

A few drinks later, their inhibitions were lowered enough that she found herself with her back against him. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she leaned into his warm, towering figure. Both of them were no longer sure if they were intoxicated by each other or the drinks, but they did not really care. After they were grinding to a Doja Cat song, she swore she felt something press against her back, but she was not sure as Nate swiftly excused himself to use the bathroom.

And that’s how she found herself at the bar by herself.

“Nate really likes you, you know?” she heard a voice say beside her. When she looked over, she saw his mom giving her a knowing glance.

“Oh, Mrs. Mackinnon, we’re just friends,” Charlotte managed to choke out, despite feeling her throat tighten.

“I know, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be more there,” she smiled, laying a soft hand on her forearm. She had never felt herself sober up faster.

“I appreciate that, but we do work together,” she strained.

“Please, call me Kathy,” she continued, not acknowledging Charlotte’s weak protest. And when she did not respond, Kathy added, “You know, I’ve met a number of his girlfriends, and he had never looked at them the way he looks at you. Or even treated them the same way. He’s barely left your side since you got here.”

“Kathy, I’m sure that’s not true. You have raised an amazing son. I’m sure he is just as kind to anyone.” She could feel her cheeks feel heat as she started scanning the room, desperate for Nate’s return.

“Sweetheart,” Kathy spoke softly, “I have been married for many years. There is only one reason a person looks at someone the way he looks at you, and that’s love. If you feel the same way, you should tell him. Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.”

She smiled as her husband came to stand next to her; and before Charlotte could protest again, she gave her a gentle hug before walking away, leaving her standing there with her head spinning at her words.

Charlotte gripped the edge of the bar and downed her drink in one go once the bartender handed it to her, earning an eyebrow raise. She jumped and let out a little squeak when she felt a warm hand press into her back.

“Woah, it’s just me,” Nate joked before he met her eyes and his brows furrowed, “are you okay?”

“Um, yeah,” she croaked out stiffly.

“Are you sure?” he stepped in closer which only made her stiffen more, “You seem… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable?”

“What?” she tried to say calmly, although it came out an octave too high, “What makes you say that? Nope. I’m fine.”

He furrowed his brow more and leaned back, confused, before removing his hand from her back and stuffing them in his pockets. There was a twinge of sadness in his eye as he looked around, unsure what to do. “Okay, then. Do you want to go back on the dance floor? Or I guess not. We could sit back at our table?”

“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, finding a normal tone again, “Table sounds good.”

They sat in silence for a bit, just watching the other guests dancing, both deep in thought. She was stuck thinking about what Nate’s mom had said. If she thought about it, she could totally understand why an outside observer would see their relationship as something more than friends. But if Nate had feelings for her, why did he so insistently refer to her as his “good friend”? And even if he did like her, she wasn’t sure about the implications for her job. Was she going to get fired? Probably not, if she was upfront with HR. But she was new to the city and relatively new to the field. What if people started to see her as the girl who ‘goes for the stars’ or the girl who’s ‘just here to get in some rich athlete’s pants’. She had worked too hard not to be taken seriously now. And maybe if things worked out, it would eventually blow over. But if it didn’t work out… If it didn’t work out, she wasn’t sure what would happen, but she felt it would be bad.

Meanwhile, Nate was panicking; combing through every moment of the evening, trying to find where things went wrong. He was finally feeling like he had an idea of how she felt. Like maybe if he told her his feelings, she would reciprocate. Did he go too far with the dancing? Was Drunk Nate too caught up in the moment and did something inappropriate and unwanted? Nate was never much of a verbal processor — he preferred to stew on things first, —  and maybe it was the remnants of the alcohol lingering in his system but he felt the words trying to bubble up in his chest. He didn’t even know what the words would be; maybe words to explain how he felt about her, to make sure he didn’t do something wrong, to make sure she was okay.

When she finally felt the grip on her chest loosen and the thoughts begin to slow a little, she snuck a quick glance at Nate. His jaw was set firm, and brows furrowed. He was staring into the crowd on the dancefloor, but he was clearly not watching them. He looked tense, and she could see the panic she felt reflected on his face. She found herself reaching out and taking his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze; a move that clearly surprised him as he jumped a little before smiling and relaxing into it.

“Nate, I’m actually getting kind of tired. I’m thinking of heading back to the room. Did you want to stay longer?” she said gently.

He squeezed her hand back and gave her a small smile, although the worry hadn’t left the contours of his face yet, “No, I’m actually ready to head back too. Come on.” He pulled her onto her feet.

They took the ten-minute walk back to the hotel in relative silence, tethered together by their interlocked hands. Nate spent the whole walk back planning his speech; he was going to tell her how he felt because he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Holding hands with her just felt so right. But for her, despite how nice it felt, it caused an overwhelming sense of panic to rush back through her. It was nice. It was too nice. It was going to ruin everything.

Stepping out of the elevator, the words escaped her lips before she had the chance to hold them back. “Nate, I think this was a mistake,�� her voice was barely above a whisper. He froze beside her and managed to choke out a “What?”

“Nate,” she said, pulling her hand away from him and backing towards her door, “This is giving me a taste of what I can’t have. And this friendship… I don’t think I can do this.”

“What are you talking about?” he replied, still stuck in the spot where she left him, his voice louder than he had intended.

“The touching, the holding hands, the being sweet… It’s too much,” she said, unlocking the door, not meeting his eyes.

“What—” he repeated, his voice cracking at the end. Her mind didn’t process that the pain she felt was echoed in his voice.

She sighed, stepping into the doorway, “I can’t do this, Nate. Because if we keep doing this, I’m going to fall in love with you. And I can’t do that while being your ‘good friend from work’. So, I’m going to bed. Good night.” She finally met his eye as she stepped back to shut the door, barely registering the way his face flickered from hurt to confusion to shock to hope.

Charlotte rested her forehead against the door and let out a shaky breath. She could feel the tears form and slide down her face. She tried to convince herself that it was the right move, but the only thing she could hear in her head was the sound of Nate’s mother’s voice saying ‘Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.’ What if Kathy was right? What if protecting herself from pain was causing more pain itself? What if it would work out? As she stood there, she listened for movement on the other side of the door, but she heard none. Was that hope she saw in his face there? If it was, what did it mean?

Before she could finish the thought, she heard shuffles and a rapid knock on the door that startled her. She didn’t know why, but she opened it without hesitation.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I did something earlier that made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry if I'm crossing a boundary now but I would never forgive myself if I didn't say this," he said, looking at her with concern. When she nodded, he continued speaking.

He confessed to her that he had never been this person before, love-struck and irrational. He had always been calm, detached, and calculated, but with her, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help being rash, like inviting her to the wedding or reaching out to touch her and be close to her.

She had told him that she couldn't do this because she was scared of falling in love with him, but he revealed that he might already be in love with her. He had been saying that she was just a friend and a colleague because he was scared, but he had never felt this way before and was afraid he would mess it up.

During the wedding ceremony, he looked around at everyone and realized that he had won the Stanley Cup this year, but he still felt off. He kept thinking about her - how her laughter made him want to make her laugh again, how her smile warmed his chest, and how he could still feel the tingle where their skin had touched even after she left.

He admitted that he had never been sure if he had truly been in love before, and maybe this was it. He thought they owed it to themselves to find out because he believed she might feel the same way. He knew it might not be the most rational decision, but it was everything he had to say.

Feeling a shaky breath escape her lips, she heard the voice in her mind, "Don't stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short." For the first time on this trip, she felt her mind still and smiled as she closed the distance between them. With her chest pressed to him, she looked up at him, admiring his soft and nervous blue eyes. She reached up to cup his neck and met him in a kiss.

The kiss was gentle and soft at first, as she chastely felt their bodies slot together; his hands finding her waist, and hers fisting his suit jacket to bring him closer. After not long, she felt Nate run his tongue along her lip and she allowed herself to deepen the kiss, conveying the emotion that was hard to put into words. The feeling of his firm hands against her waist and his muscular body against hers again made her feel as though she were on fire. And she had to admit, she liked this quite a lot. Eventually, they disconnected and rested their foreheads together as they took in the moment.

“So, are you going to say something?” Nate whispered.

 “Yeah, uh, ditto,” she whispered back, giggling slightly.

“That’s it?!” he leaned back in mock horror, “After I poured my heart out, that’s all you have to say?” She could see a smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, I think for the first time in your life, you have spoken enough words for both of us, Nathan,” she laughed as she gave his chin a little pinch, drawing a laugh from him as well. She leaned back in to place another firm kiss on his lips before saying, “I like you a lot too. Like a lot a lot. It scares me. But, as the kids say, you only live once, and I need to stop being scared and just see where this goes because I think I might be in love with you, Nathan, and I need to find out if I am.”

He smiled broadly; it’s the smile she loves, the one where his nose scrunches a little and she can see the genuine happiness on his face. And as their lips rejoined, she slowly started to pull him back into her hotel room.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” he says, disconnecting their lips briefly.

“Uh, right now? Sure, I guess,” she raised her eyebrow.

“Why do you always call me Nathan? Everyone always calls me Nate.” The question catches her off-guard and she laughed as she continued dragging him into your room.

“I was trying to remind myself to stay professional and not fall for you,” she laughed as she felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Right…That worked so well, I’ll have to remember that one for the future, Miss Charlotte,” he laughed back before kissing her again so deeply and passionately that she forgot whatever retort was on the tip of her tongue.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  This is when things seem to get better with the Shelby family —at least with Polly— that a drunk client crosses the line with you at the Garrison. Haunted by his past insecurities and his burning jealousy, Arthur snaps. And he snaps very bad. For the first time since you've met, he reveals the beast he hides inside... And Tommy obviously uses the incident to blame you.

Words: 5k

TW: Angst, Obsessive behavior, extreme jealousy, graphic depiction of violence, murder, lot of blood, canonical violence, witch trial, allusions to smut, allusions to blood!kink, Arthur being an emotional and slightly psychotic mess

Notes:

✞ I don't condone Arthur's behavior. Also, keep in mind that Heaven is certainly a bit twisted too.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || Masterlist || NEXT

The sound of your heels hammering the cold pavement of Small Heath echoed in the nocturnal streets as you walked to the Garrison. Even though the expansion of the Shelby Company led the family’s interests away from the pub, they still hold the place dear to their hearts and sometimes they liked gathering there for old times' sake. Especially Arthur. Hence, rather than staying at home, reading in front of the fireplace, and dwelling on Polly’s odd behavior at the last family gathering, you decided to occupy your buzzing mind by surprising Arthur at the pub. A raven flew above your head and cawed, its presence stirring interest in you for he had followed you from the moment you had left your house. As you walked to the Garrison, you took a quick glance at the black bird’s silhouette, which was perched on a roof a few houses away. 

"Silly boy, want to tell me something?" You told to it, amused. The animal, dressed with dark feathers, replied with another caw. You chuckled and kept walking.

The white dress and fur coat you were wearing contrasted so well with the dull night that the few people you passed were not sure what they had just seen. Indeed, the moon's glow reflected its light on your porcelain skin, adorning your frail body with an almost supernatural aura. That was why some of them thought they had caught sight of an angel, just like Arthur did the first time you and he met.

When the dark wooden door of the Garrison opened, its noise overcoming the laughter, chatting, and sounds of glasses clinking against each other, a soft wave of warmth caressed your cold face. You had barely stepped inside when people almost all turned around, many pairs of eyes weighing on you. Curious and dumbstruck gazes looked at you, wondering what such a holy-looking creature was doing here — but you did not really care. Your petrifying aquamarine iris swept the room to become familiar with the place before you headed to the counter behind which you saw Arthur’s tall frame. The man was back to you, talking with his little boss-brother Thomas. Awesome, you thought, little King Shelby is here. Sarcasm filled your head at the mere sight of him. To be true, you were well aware that Thomas was always doing his best to avoid you, but it did not annoy you. Quite the contrary, you were more than satisfied with never seeing him — you still did not come to terms with him trying to strangle you after all. Nevertheless, you leaned over the counter, arms resting on its varnished wooden surface, and parted your juicy lips to speak. 

“Good evening, Mister Shelby. Care to serve me a drink?” 

Arthur’s whole being shivered with delight as soon as he recognized the enchanting and oh-so-peculiar tone of your voice — the same voice that had led him to you one bleak and sleepless night. Shaken to the core by your presence, he forgot about Tommy the moment you had started to speak and turned around to face you, the corner of his lips stretching in a genuine and blissed smile. Each time his steel blue eyes fell on you, it was as if God's grace struck him — even though you were living together. The thrills you gave him never left.

“Good evening, love. What is such a delicious little Angel like you doing here? It’s a bad town for such a pretty face ye know.” He almost cooed with his hoarse voice, his hands on the bar and his eyes sparkling with a teasing gleam.

“Fell from the sky and got lost in these streets, so I just followed the light.” Your fingers grazed the back of his hand and went up its skin, leaving pleasant tingles in their trail, until they reached one of the many rings he was wearing. The simple gesture, barely touching him, lit up a blazing fire in his soul. Thomas looked at Arthur and quickly understood that no matter what he would say or do, he held no power over his older brother anymore, “Evening, Tommy.” You said, finally acknowledging him.

“Thomas. It’s Thomas.” He retorted with a voice as cold as an arctic blizzard that could freeze Hell’s inferno itself. He stubbed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and left without any single word, his shadow disappearing in the streets as he left the Garrison, for your sole presence seemed to bother him. Well, at least his opinion about you did not change. However, the lack of peculiar reaction from him reassured you: Polly had not told him what happened to the tea party yet.

“Don’t mind him eh,” 

You did not.

“I should probably give you one hell of a strong drink if you fell from Eden… Miss?”

“Heaven Lavey.” You winked, enjoying his silly way of hitting on you as if it was the first time you met, “A glass of red wine would do the trick… And the barman’s heart.” Your teasing grin widened, unveiling perfect white teeth. Arthur let out a long exhale through his nostrils, enraptured by your whole being. From your smile to your bratty pout, you got him on his knees. Each time he would dive his eyes into yours, his heart would quicken in his chest and dopamine would rush through his veins — who would want to keep taking drugs after tasting you? Not even himself. He was already high enough by your presence in his life and God knew he never wanted to sober up from you.

“As you wish.” He leaned over the counter to lay a tender kiss on your forehead. The way his mustache gently tickled your skin made you chuckle. How sweet he was, not afraid to lavish you with sweetness even in front of other people. Then, he gathered all his strength to pull away from you and take care of your order — which was nearly impossible to do, for you were both attracted to each other like two powerful magnets. But still, he did and then poured the finest red wine the Garrison had in a glass before putting it in front of you. Then, he leaned a second time over the counter to bring his face close to yours again, “as for my heart,” he paused, his eyes abandoning yours to drop on your full lips he watched with utmost desire, “You already snatched it, angel.” 

“You’re incorrigible, Arthur Shelby.” You could not help but laugh when you noticed that, as you spoke, his focus was still fiercely anchored to your lips. The urge he had to devour them was almost palpable, electrifying the air around him. Yet, you resisted the need to kiss him, rather bringing your small hands to his neck to fix his bow tie with indescribable tenderness. The pair of eyes that were watching you since your arrival could not believe that you had managed to tame the brutal Arthur Shelby — how he behaved with you was so different from the way he was with the others it almost scared them, “I hope you like this little surprise.”

“You can’t imagine how much I do.” He purred, grabbing your hands and putting them on his cheeks. How he loved feeling your cold skin against his. You cupped his face, looking right into his fair eyes with a never-ending love, and he instantly melted. His eyelids half-closed, for you had brought peace to his scorching soul again, “Lemme clean a few things and we’ll go back home eh.”

“Take your time. Je t’attends mon amour — I’ll wait for you my love —“

“Yer comfy here?”

“Arthur,” Your eyes rolled, amused.

“Want a cushion to sit on? Want to wait in a quieter room?” 

“That’s okay.”

“Mmm’kay” 

You freed his face from your sweet grip, leaving him lingering for more. When he reopened his eyes he could not hold the little growl that escaped his lips for you had not kissed him. He blinked several times, trying to chase away the charm you had cast on him with your sole presence, and reluctantly left you. Stars still danced in front of his eyes because of your intoxicating beauty — so hypnotizing he struggled to come back to what he was doing before.

Waiting did not bother you. In fact, you preferred to wait for hours here, in the comforting warmth of the pub and its hullabaloo, rather than being left alone with your thoughts in the quietness of your house. Sipping on your red wine, you were minding your own business when a man sat next to you, his body collapsing on the stool as if walking had been quite a struggle for him. Which was probably the case considering he was drunk. Only a few people were still at the Garrison, the others went home stumbling or dragged away by a fellow friend. The suffocating smell of whiskey and sweat that was emanating from the newcomer made you wrinkled your nose.

“Hey doll, all alone by yourself? ”  The man said, bringing the whiskey glass to his chapped lips to gulp what was left in it. You glanced at him and simply nodded, not really wanting to do any kind of conversation, “Your glass is almost empty. Lemme buy you another one.” 

“I really appreciate it but that’s fine.” You answered with a polite smile — but even when doing the bare minimum your angelic traits never failed to captivate your audience. The man noticed your strong accent and saw the opportunity to carry on with the conversation.

“You come from France eh? I fought in France! Bloody hell, still got the mud of this country under my nails!” 

Maybe he talked a little bit too loud, or maybe Arthur’s senses were as sharp as a wolf’s, but the fact remains he immediately raised his eyes from what he was doing to watch over you. His steel blue iris shifted their attention from you only to cast their furious fire on the drunk man that was talking to you. His woman.

“You know, I always thought it was kind of sad that all the people here only link France with the war. This is a beautiful country.” You answered, taking another sip of red wine. Somehow, you allowed yourself to talk with the man. At least time would probably fly faster that way.

“If France’s as beautiful as ya, I’ll rush back to it by tomorrow, doll. The name’s Jim.”

You silently replied to him with a light smile, gently shaking your head at the fella’s attempt to compliment you.

You smiled at Jim — And Arthur broke the glass he was holding in his hand. It had been crushed by the pressure with which he had tightened his grip around it until it shattered into bits. Sharp pieces of glass had pierced Arthur’s flesh, blood dripping from his palm, but the tormenting anger that was building within him was so overwhelming he did not even feel the pain. As seconds passed, his face contorted with rage and his eyes darkened with jealousy.  You. Smiled. At. Him.

That was definitely not okay — the man did not deserve your blissful smile. 

Deafened by the sound of his own heart pounding in his tight chest, Arthur swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat in a vain attempt to keep control. To not let his anger issue show. The rational part of his mind was telling him to keep calm, for he knew you loved him and only him. You had told him plenty of times, after all. And he trusted you, really. But the other part, led by his insecurities and his mental instability, whispered foul insinuations to his ear.

Why would she stay with such a criminal like you? You’re sick. You’re old. You’re broken — and no one loves broken men. 

You’re stupid, far less clever and charming than Tommy. HE is a real man. 

You either scare or repel women. Linda told you. You don’t deserve Heaven. 

Useless. So useless… Broken. Crazy, you’re fucking crazy. She’ll see what you are. A monster. Monster. Monster. 

Arthur’s jaw clenched as his mind spiraled into a never-ending maze of whipping thoughts and insufferable feelings. Self-loathing was becoming too much to bear — so messy it had started to drown him. He felt his sanity slowly slipping through the cracks of his skull and the only thing he could to do make it stop was to break things. And by things he meant Jim. 

“Listen, Jim. I think you should go back home and rest. This is the whiskey talking.” You stated.

“Only if you come home with me, doll.” He ought to say, his grin widening. 

Breathless with rage, Arthur felt the heat pooling in his face. A few drops of sweat beaded on his forehead as he shook his wounded hand to clear his flesh from the shards of glass.

“You really should —“

“Come home with me and I’ll make you beg.” He cut off before you had time to turn his invitation down , bringing his hand on one of your thighs to strengthen his point.

Destructive anger flowed through his veins like lava,  exploding at the moment the man laid a finger upon you. Agile like a wild cat, Arthur jumped over the counter and rushed toward you, his shoulders tensed and his arms swinging as he walked.  Earth shook under his feet, opening the gates of Hell more and more at each of his steps. 

“AL-FUCKING-RIGHT THEN,” He blurted out, standing fiercely behind Jim. Arthur’s thundering voice almost made him jump — and it was enough for him to take his hand off your thigh and turned around to meet the Devil’s eyes. You froze on your stool, astounded by your man’s anger.

His face distorted with both fear and confusion at the sight of Arthur Shelby, green with jealousy and maddened with fury, “What the fookin hell did ya say, pal? WHAT THE FOOK DID YOU SAY TO ME WOMAN?” He roared, blue eyes shining with a threatening glow. At this point, Arthur was almost choking with rage. 

“Oh my God Arthur, I did not know she was your woman. I’m sorry! I really did not —“ Jim could not finish his sentence for Arthur had grabbed him by the neck and dragged him away from you in front of the few last clients' terrified looks.

“You TOUCHED her! You bloody touched her, ME ANGEL. ME HEAVEN. I can’t fucking believe it,” He spat, his words coated with bitter venom. Swirling in the chaotic vortex of his own fury, he did not hear the man’s bargains. And somehow, he did not care. There was nothing he could say to stop him anymore. Jim tried to utter another apology.

He had barely opened his mouth when Arthur’s fist crushed his nose with such a violent blow the sound of broken bones echoed through the Garrison. The man, almost knocked out by the uppercut, crashed on the wooden floor, a jet of blood gushing from his face, “Oi! Thought you fought in France. Come on, bastard! Fight me!” He snarled, teeth bared like a wild animal.

He’s going to kill him. That was what crossed your mind when you came back to your senses, overcoming the shock of seeing Arthur in such a frenzy state. You got up from your stool, “Arthur… Stop it please.” You called him, trying to be as soft as possible not to fan the flames of his anger. 

“I AM NOT GONNA STOP!” He barked, looking at you.

He looked at you 

and you saw the Hell in his eyes.

“Heard how he dared to talk to ye? Ah, you wanted to make me angel beg eh?” Arthur kneeled over the whimpering man, almost straddling his quivering body, to grab him by the collar of his coat, “Yeah that’s what you said right. But trust me, you sonofabitch, I’m the one who’ll make you beg!” He yelled, sending another powerful blast to the man’s face with his fists as sole weapons, adorned with thick silver rings. “BEG, YOU BASTARD!”

“P-please—“

Another disgusting sound of torn flesh and cracking skull filled the room. “By order —“ A third punch. Breaking teeth. Jim spat three of them at your feet. “Of the —“  Fourth. Fifth. His knuckles bruised and split under the strength of his blows but Arthur could not care less. All he wanted was to reduce Jim’s face to an unidentifiable slop of flesh.  “Peaky —“  Dislocated jaw hanging loosely. The horrible sight was accompanied by the cacophony of bloody gurgles. “Fookin — “ Jim had lost count of the punches that rained down on him. All he knew was that his body was giving up. At one point Arthur Shelby had stopped beating him, only to unstrapped the combat knife he kept in his holster, “BLINDERS!” 

“ARTHUR NO!!!”  Running to the scene and falling on your knees, you managed to grab his hands and keep him from stabbing the drunk man, “Don’t do that, please I need you. Please, please stop it.” 

Please.

Your voice, like a light piercing the thick veil of his darkness, snatched him from his murderous craze. Waking up by the smell of blood mixed with your sweet spring-like perfume, Arthur stopped in the midst of what he was doing and realized he was holding a knife above his head, ready to plunge it into a man’s chest. He took a look at you, noticing the shocked expression on your holy face, and all his anger disappeared into a void. His fingers loosened around the knife, which fell on the wooden floor with a metallic noise, “please Arthur, calm down… Call down, Mon amour.” You whispered, begging him with your eyes. Silence fell on the Garrison, as well as in his mind. The maddening voices had stopped and the buzzing hatred had vanished. Arthur left the unconscious man and collapsed in your arms, panting and shaking. Adrenaline made you shiver too, but you gently hugged his frame, one hand stroking his hair, “That’s okay… I’m here …”  You repeated just like a healing chant as a few men grabbed the severely injured victim and took him away from the pub.

“I’m … I’m sorry— Heaven, oh my god —“ Arthur stuttered, slowly realizing what he just did. He buried his face in your breasts, for comfort as well as to hide the blood that had splattered on him. He barely dared to hug your frail body for fear of breaking you.  Sometimes, he swore he had hell in his hands and he did not want to bring you down in the flames with him. 

“Shhhh… Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do it.”  You said with a soothing tone. With divine softness, you ran your fingers through his hair, not minding the blood he smeared on your clothes and bosom, “that’s okay, you’re a good boy..” But as you were trying to chase away your man’s demons, a far too familiar voice echoed in the room.

“What the fuck is this mess?!” Thomas Shelby exclaimed for he had just entered the Garrison, John by his side. His freezing blue eyes looked at you from above.  The king was here and he hated what he saw.

“John, bring Arthur home. Everyone OUT.” 

This was all it took to empty the Garrison from its remaining clients. When John gently put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, Arthur’s embrace tightened around your tiny silhouette for he did not want to leave you.  “No,” he managed to beg between two heartbreaking sobs. His face still hidden, not daring to look at you for fear of seeing disgust and anger in your eyes, Arthur refused to let you go. Somehow, he was convinced you would not go back home — why would you after what you had just witnessed? “Don’t take me away from her!”  He said, a bit more fiercely, which resulted in John taking a few steps back and looking at you, silently begging you to help him. In the midst of the chaos, only you could bring him back to his senses. A brief sigh escaped from your lips before you gently forced Arthur to look at you.

“Listen, chéri. I need you to go back home and calm down. I’ll be very quick.” 

“No, no, you won’t come back.” 

“ I’ll do,” You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, accidentally smearing more blood on his face doing so, “and when I do, I’ll take care of you alright? I’ll keep you warm and loved.” Punctuating your sentence with affection, you slicked his hair back with a frail but oh-so-loving grin on your face. He finally accepted.

When he left alongside John, your smile vanished and you got up from the floor, legs still slightly shaking. Thomas was still standing in the middle of the pub, towering you with all his height, and looking at you with his cold eyes. His chilling stare followed your movements as you walked to the bar and poured yourself another glass of wine.

“I told you to keep a low profile,” He began. Thomas Shelby’s voice was dressed in an apparent quiet, but something in his tone was threatening — and even though he did not display any sign of emotion, you knew his blood was boiling.

“Oh come on Thomas, all I wanted was to make a surprise to Arthur.” You took a mouthful of wine — the much-needed alcohol calming your anxiety.

Thomas closed his eyes for a few seconds and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his dawning headache, “ A surprise… I hope you like the result then,” He retorted, before shifting his eyes back to you,

“Listen, I know you don’t like me but — ” 

“He nearly killed someone for you. What the fuck are you doing to my brother, eh?” Tommy slightly tilted his head to the side, a spark of resentment lightening up his icy iris. You remained silent, still not believing Thomas was really blaming you for Arthur’s outburst. Of course, you had not reacted immediately, but the shock had petrified you for a few long minutes — but was it your fault if he had beaten the man? Certainly not. At this point, Tommy was just lashing out at you for all the issues his family was facing. It was far easier than admitting his own flaws and responsibility. Visibly infuriated by your silence,  Tommy walked to you and stopped only a few inches from you, trapping your body between the counter and his own strong frame. He was close — so close your breasts were almost pressed against his chest, “Look me in the eyes when I fucking talk to you, Heaven.” He spat your name with disgust, as if he had just bitten into an apple filled with maggots.

“Get my pretty name out of your mouth,” You looked dagger at him, anger rushing through your veins at such an unwanted proximity. Yet you did not flicker.

“You fucking white Devil,” He hissed through his teeth, his low voice still calm in spite of his blooming hatred, “Are you happy to spread chaos in our life? What do you want from us ey?” He leaned over you, bringing his face closer to yours. With his brows slightly furrowed, Tommy’s sky blue eyes were probing yours, trying to understand the mystery they hid behind their aquamarine wonders, ”What do you want from me?! After Arthur is this me you want to control??” He growled. Your heart raced in your chest — shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps appeared on your porcelain skin, for his unpredictable behavior was starting to worry you.

“I don’t want anything from you Thomas Shelby. Whether you like it or not I’m being honest with your brother. You know Arthur’s emotional, you can’t blame me for that.  You take away his meds, turn him into a killer, and now you’re surprised he snaps?? How. Fucking. Unbelievable! Do you know what I think? Well, I think you need me to be your scapegoat . You need to blame me for your sins. For everyone’s sins.”

“Fucking burn in hell,” He spat again but could not find something to retort properly. It seemed like the skies gave you the gift of shutting Thomas Shelby's mouth. Instead, one of his hands grabbed you by the neck and forced your face to get closer to his. His breath fanned over your skin, as burning as a dragon’s fire.

“Be careful with the Rule of Three, Thomas. For each spell you cast always returns to you three times stronger.”  You whispered. Then you gathered all your remaining strength to push him away from you, his musky and peculiar perfume almost making your head spin.  Not wanting to stay here any longer — and also longing for a hot shower to wash away the blood from your skin —, you headed to the Garrison’s door. Obviously, Tommy’s eyes followed you but he did not say anything, muted by his resentment. Admittedly, he was torn between the urge to bounce on you and the desire to see you leave. You were about to disappear, the cold breeze of the night jumping at your face and rushing into the pub as you opened the wooden door. But your instincts kicked in. After a few seconds of hesitation, you finally decided to warn little king Shelby.

“By the way..." You looked at Thomas from above your shoulder.

"You should keep an eye on Charles. You really should.” 

He froze. Confused and infuriated.

You left. Hurt and bitter.

When you came back home, you crossed your reflection in the corridor’s mirror.  Your body refused to work anymore and forced you to stop in front of it. Facing your own person was something you hated. With trembling fingers, you brushed the blood stain Arthur had left on one of your cheeks.

Mom! Mom, no!!

I’ll fucking kill you all!!

You clenched your jaw at the memory it triggered, but still, you kept looking at your tainted ivory skin as if you were slowly learning to come to terms with what you did and what you were. Your fingers trailed down your throat until they grazed the top of your bosom, where the blood had accumulated the most. Another painful memory assaulted your mind, replaying the aching, almost inhuman screams of your little sister when her flesh had been eaten alive by the hungry tongues of the pyre’s flames.

Only God knew how you managed to keep your mind from spiraling into the darkest pits of your trauma, but you did — maybe that was because Arthur needed you. That protective instinct was stronger than your own pain. That was why you tricked your body into moving away from the mirror and went upstairs to take a hot shower before joining your man in bed. John had probably managed to convince him to sleep. Or his body had collapsed on the mattress, exhausted by the energy poured in his latest outburst.

As the running water of the shower was filling the bathroom with its regular and soothing noise, you slowly let your white dress slip along your body until it fell on the floor, as well as your lace panties. You stepped over the pile of clothes and, without waiting any longer, you hopped under the shower and welcomed its warm water with utter joy. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips as you tilted your head back, water hugging your body and raining down on your long white mane that cascaded down your lower back. You almost managed to empty your mind when, suddenly, one gentle calloused hand brushed your hip. Jumping in surprise, you turn around and saw that Arthur had joined you under the shower. His hands, arms, and face were still splattered with half-dried blood he had not cleaned. To be true, he had been too busy curling up on the bedroom floor, panicking about at the idea of you leaving him after what you had witnessed.

“You’re here…” His gravel voice said, water falling on his naked body whose millions of freckles drew magnificent constellations on his skin.

“Told you I’d come back.”  

He smiled, softly. His steel blue had stopped avoiding you and was now firmly anchored in yours.

 He took a step toward you.

You stepped back in response until your bare body met the cold shower wall.

Your pulse quickened, fascinated by the way Arthur looked. He had something in his eyes — a mix of limerence and pure madness who, combined with the crimson stains on his face, made your legs weak. His breath was slow but yours soon became erratic, even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“You ain’t scared, love? Please, tell me you ain���t scared of your Arthur…” He said, his lower lip trembling as his body perfectly interlocked with yours. A small growl escaped from his throat at the intoxicating sensation of yours curves pressed against his skin. But despite his inextinguible desire, he still looked at you with hesitation and genuine guilt — his puppy eyes would surely break anyone’s heart.

“No, I’m not scared,” You replied, not shifting your gaze from him. The corner of your juicy and honey lips stretched in a small grin, “You…” You paused, bringing one hand to his stained cheek, “you look pretty with blood all over your face.”  

Arthur’s eyes lightened with both surprise and ravaging desire, for you had witnessed the beast’s violence but still thought he was attractive. A twisted wave of arousal shook you to the core when he bared his teeth in a vaguely dangerous but oh-so-seductive smirk.

“Oh bloody hell, angel…” Not finishing his sentence, his lips captured yours in a fury kiss for he could not wait any longer. The need to possess you, to feel you, was too devastatingly strong to resist. At first, his lustful kiss surprised you, and even though you burnt for him l, a part of you felt it was wrong to feel this kind of twisted attraction. Last thing Arthur needed was someone encouraging his violence — but your brain soon shut down at the thought he did it for you. Only you. Your arms locked up around his neck to deepen the waltz of your tongues, sending fireworks in your loins. It was far than enough to turn Arthur on who, all of sudden, lifted you from the ground as if you weighted nothing.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, already suffocating with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and the shower’s steam accumulating around you.

As water rained down on your two intertwined bodies, it washed away the blood from your skins. The tainted liquid disappeared down the drain, leaving pale red stains on the bathtub's immaculate marble. 

You kissed him harder. Rougher. Until his flesh dived into yours in an explosion of pleasure and shooting stars.

For you had seen the Hell in his eyes, and loved it anyway. 

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alones but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interested: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08

[hero-israel]

This is either a minor gripe or a prescient canary in the coal mine thing, but w/e, I'm sending it in anyways.

I truly don't believe that most leftists understand the damage that the antizionist-to-hamas wing of the movement is doing to their credibility. (To be 100% clear, I say this as a committed leftist who is not changing their positions anytime soon.) A fandom blog I follow (aware that this is not the most rhetorically powerful example) has posted some dogshit takes on the Israel-Palestine conflict recently, and I was really struck by the erosion in credibility when that blog reblogged something I wouldn't have blinked at reblogging half a year ago and I blocked the OP on reflexes alone. (It was a poorly sourced claim that Israeli airstrikes in the 2006 Lebanon war resulted in a large oil spill. I'm aware that reblogging poorly sourced stuff is bad, but I come to tumblr to unwind.) It wasn't that I believe that this is blatantly antisemitic, or that if I did research on it it would be obviously false; it's something that I genuinely believe could have happened. And the blog in question had such awful opinions on other topics related to Israel-Palestine that I simply do not trust them on this anymore. Knee-jerk distrust, blocked the OP, and decided that I would look that up myself when this short period of increased stress is over.

I firmly believe that things like that are only going to get more widespread and frequent, and a few years down the line, when Israel actually does something fucked up, these people are going to criticize it and get crickets, because nobody will trust that they aren't hiding antisemitism in there like people hide pills in meat for dogs.

The reason that "criticism of Israel isn't antisemitism" isn't just because bad faith right-wingers use that to shut down criticism of Israel. A great deal of that comes from the fact that many people use "criticism of Israel" as a shield to hide antisemitism!

(Tone doesn't come across in raw text, so please read this last section with lots of sarcasm and even more rage.)

There are real problems with what is happening in Gaza, and you've destroyed your ability to get people to listen when you talk about them for paragilder emojis. Masterful gambit, sir.

Excellent, excellent commentary. And let's take a more detailed look at what is going to happen to the politically experienced, organized, "real" liberal / left activist core in this country:

[hotreadingwitch]

MADE TO LIE - the city

Y/N 

Y/n yawned loudly as she woke from a deep slumber that was surely prompted by last night's bottle of wine. She tried to roll but found she was secured within a cage of sleeping super soldier limbs. Using literally all the strength she had in her, she managed to lift his bulky arm up and shimmy out, trying her best not to wake him. With a chuckle, she brushed her teeth before heading out of the suite and down to the hotel's adjoined café. 

"Two lattes to go please" she ordered when she finally reached the front of the line. 

The barista was a young person, maybe five or so years younger than her, with a short, purple quiff of curly hair. They blushed as their eyes widened, no doubt realizing who Y/n was, before breaking into a lop-sided smile. 

"Right away miss, I mean ma'am, I mean—" 

"Y/n is fine" she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in, making the barista blush even more. 

They nodded sharply before heading back over to the machines to make Y/n's order. When they were finally finished, their pale skin was redder than a firetruck. 

"Thanks," Y/n said with a wink. 

As she left the cafe and made her way back up in the elevator she couldn't help but smile. The drinks were a small gesture, she and Bucky hadn't talked very much when they'd gotten back to the hotel after their first "date" and of course, their first real kiss. She felt flushed and warm as she used the hotel key card to open the door. 

"Where were you!" An angry voice quickly brought her from her reverie. 

"What?" Y/n's nose scrunched in confusion. 

Bucky's massive pyjama-clad form suddenly surrounded her in a tight and desperate hug. He was soft against her somehow despite the hard ridges of his muscles. He pulled away his hands cupping her face as he searched her eyes for something, what she didn't know. 

"You—you" he fumbled with his words before continuing, his voice gruff, "I thought something had happened to you, I woke up and you were gone" 

"You do have a phone you know?" 

He seemed to deflate at this realization. 

"Right—I'm sorry I completely overreacted" he huffed out a small laugh as if he couldn't believe his own behaviour.

"Don't worry" she smiled at his sincerity, squeezing his hand, "It's sweet and uh I appreciate it...Coffee?"

"Thanks" he grumbled, reverting back to his usual grumpy self as he grabbed the cup. 

Luckily they were saved any more awkwardness as Tony's contact appeared on her phone, her ringtone filling the large space. 

"You two ready for your next date?" Tony asked with a wink. 

Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I don't want you two worried about tonight, it's just going to be another teaser for them to see you together before we organize a third date where we'll all actually be there to catch them. Tonight you'll barely have to lift a finger to convince them, if anything, I'm pretty sure they got the message seeing your little kiss last night" 

"Stark..." Bucky glared as Y/n flushed. 

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence despite his jabs. 

"I'll let you two go now to do whatever you two want to get up to now but please remember not to fuck it up unnecessarily tonight, I'd hate to lose either of you" 

Tony's expressions of concern only ever came with a healthy dose of sass and sarcasm but that was just his way. Y/n loved him, truly, he was like a father to her, or definitely like a father figure, one she'd never had. Obviously, knowing the team's history, she knew that things between Bucky and Tony had previously been tense...to say the least. But now, it seemed that they'd warmed up to each other a bit. Tony respected Steve, cared for him even, and Steve didn't come without Bucky, therefore, peace. She knew it wasn't truly that simple, that they had struggled to work together for a long time but seeing their bond, no matter how shaky, present-day was enough for her to think, anything can happen. 

Bucky hung up the call with a press of his finger, leaning across her to do so, as she was still lost in thought...

"Y/n?" his soft voice still gravelly from the morning. 

"Yes?" she looked at him then, her eyes refocusing before forcing a laugh, "Must've zoned out for a bit, sorry"

"No need to apologize" he huffed with a small smile, "Now go get dressed, I've got somewhere I want to take you" 

"Is that so?" her eyes lit up immediately at the mysterious offer, "And I'm assuming you won't tell me where we're going?"

"Brooklyn" 

"Brooklyn" she confirmed with a quick nod that she was hoping came off as nonchalant as she bit down on her lip, realizing the significance, "Sounds good..." 

"You don't have to come if you don't want" he hesitated, seeming slightly bashful. 

"No, I want" she blushed, "I want to come I mean, to go with you" 

He huffed out a breath in that gruff manner of his that she couldn't help but love. He was taking her home. 

BUCKY

Y/n had never seen Bucky so animated before. As they walked through the streets of Greenpoint, he kept pointing out local businesses, his and Steve's old school, and alleyways he used to pull him out of when he'd let his big mouth get him into trouble, effectively giving her a history lesson, not just of the area but of his young life. The neighbourhood was made up of a mix of buildings, some tall and some short, almost all made of old, worn brick. They passed discount bookstores, colourful fruit stands, and amazing-smelling restaurants. But each time Y/n thought they might finally stop for lunch, Bucky pulled her one street further toward some unknown destination. 

Finally, they reached a little grey restaurant with a red sign that displayed a name in a language Y/n couldn't read. 

"Dzień dobry" Bucky greeted as they stepped into the small space, lined with red, curve-backed chairs and metal tables. 

There was a crash of a pan in the back that caused Bucky to start forward toward the sound until a much older woman came out and his posture visibly relaxed. 

"Ahhh James" she greeted, opening her arms wide. 

He hugged her for what seemed like a long time. 

"What were you doing back there Beatka?" he questioned, looking at her with found eyes, "Raising the dead?" 

"I would if I could," she smiled back playfully, their encounter showing just how familiar they were with each other. 

Her eyes flitted up to Y/n as if suddenly noticing her. She immediately grabbed both her hands, smiling somehow even brighter than before, practically beaming. 

"James, please tell me this is your girlfriend, yes?" 

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "No Beatka she's not, she's—she's one of my colleagues"

"Nonsense," Beatka swatted at him, ignoring him completely as he began to protest, "What's your name moja aniołku?" 

"My angel" Bucky whispered to her, making her eyes widen before she realized that's what the old woman was calling her. 

"Y/n" she smiled politely, "It's lovely to meet you!" 

Beatka's smile was wider than any Y/n had ever seen in all her time on Earth, excluding maybe Wanda's when she inevitably won on game night at the compound. 

"Beautiful name, beautiful name, perfect for a beautiful girl ahh" 

Y/n blushed just as Beatka turned abruptly, heading over towards the cash register and counter that separated the restaurant's seating from the kitchen. She glanced up to look at Bucky but he seemed to be sheepishly avoiding her gaze. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along, following Beatka through to the kitchen where there was a small table pushed just far enough from the steaming ovens. 

"Sit, sit" Beatka ordered, suddenly stern, "I've been making—" 

"Cabbage rolls" Bucky interrupted with a sniff of the air, earning a glare from Beatka that was, of course, followed by a cheeky smile, like she couldn't resist doting on him. 

He leaned over her, planting a sweet kiss on the top of her white-haired head. She preened after that, preparing the plates with a satisfied air about her. As if knowing that Bucky recognized her infamous cabbage rolls was her biggest achievement to date. 

When she finally set the food down, presenting it with a sweet "ta-da," Y/n's stomach growled, literally growled. 

"Ohh, that's the best compliment" Beatka grinned at Y/n, before planting a kiss on her cheek then Bucky's. 

Realizing there were only two plates set Y/n reached out, "You're not eating with us?" 

"No, moja kochana" she flicked a significant look at Bucky. 

He translated again, his cheekbones turning slightly red as he softly said, "My Love" 

"I'll leave you two to it" 

"Okay" Y/n smiled again, her neck also flushing, "Thank you"

"Of course, of course" 

And with that she was gone, leaving Bucky and her to sit in silence for a while, the steaming food not the only thing heated between them. 

"So how did you two meet?" Y/n asked casually as she took a first bite of her food, blushing at the strained look that passed across Bucky's face as she literally moaned out loud in response to the taste. 

"I have property around here," he said vaguely, "So I've been coming to see Beatka for a couple of years now and uhh—I've also known her since she was born" 

Y/n practically choked on her cabbage roll, earning another look from Bucky. 

"When was she born?" 

"1923, the first year the Yankees won the World Series, she's 4 years younger than me" 

Y/n reeled in her shock, remembering everything she already knew about Bucky and his old age, instead choosing to focus on the other detail, "You like baseball?"

"As much as the next man, sure" he shrugged noncommittally, "Used to take my younger brothers, Jacob and Henry, to practice just around the corner from here" 

"For some reason" she smiled playfully, "I can't imagine you being anyone's babysitter"

"Rebecca and the twins were all younger than me, I'm a big brother at heart Y/n so you better start believing" his eyes flickered with humour as he used her words from the drive down. It felt surreal to her that it was only a couple of days ago that they were talking at the diner. Just another day, another restaurant, and yet there was something drastically different. Y/n could feel it, whatever it was, quickly growing between them. 

"What were they like?" she asked softly. 

"Trouble all three of them" he laughed, nostalgia filling the cracks beside his eyes, "I loved them a lot." He looked down, avoiding her gaze again in embarrassment. But his eyes flicked up when he felt her hand resting on top of his. 

"Thank you for telling me," she said and meant it. 

"Thank you for listening" Y/n could tell he tried not to let his tear fall but it did anyway. A sole representation of the mound of grief she knew he must burdened with. She had lost her family too, and though it was her choice to leave her father, she'd always grieved the loss regardless. 

"I had a sister" Y/n admitted, earning a look of surprise from Bucky, "She was a lot younger than me, an accident. I loved her dearly, right until the day she died" 

"What happened?" concern lined his face. 

"My father got caught up in a web of lies so thick it almost killed us all. He wasn't being honest with his henchmen, even those higher up he was lying to. Because of that, miscommunication was his downfall. If he had just been honest he wouldn't have got them killed. My mother was younger than my dad by quite a bit, thirty-two when she died. I was eighteen...Elena was just six." 

Bucky's eyes hardened but he said nothing, simply squeezing her hand, allowing her to continue. 

"I hate my father, for everything he is and for everything he's done but I still love him, even as he's serving life in prison because of me," she laughed bitterly, "he's all I have left " 

"Do you visit him, on the Raft?" Bucky questioned. 

"No" her voice broke. 

The small circles Bucky was tracing with his thumb on her hand kept her grounded. 

"I don't usually even talk about him, let alone talk to him" 

"Maybe one day" his eyes crinkled. 

"Somehow I doubt it" she admitted solemnly, "sometimes there's just too much to get past, you know? And even then I don't know if I'd want to'' 

She knew that he understood, grateful when he changed the subject, "Let's get going doll, there's one more place I want to show you"

Bucky helped her up from the chair before leading her out to the front where Beatka was gossiping no doubt with another older customer who was picking up take-out. 

"Beatka" he interrupted softly, "We've got to get going" 

"Ohhh! You'd better come back sooner next time James" she practically shrieked, swatting him sweetly, then turning to smile sincerely at Y/n, "And you too, anyone who makes my James this happy is always welcome here" 

"And that's our cue to leave..." Bucky mumbled under his breath. 

~ 

The crisp autumn air made Y/n shake as she and Bucky wound their way through the more residential streets of Brooklyn. Or maybe, her little shivers were because Bucky was holding her hand, gently tugging her in the right direction, his rough palm warm and big compared to hers. He seemed to have a lot on his mind as they walked so she allowed for a comfortable silence to sit between them. 

Eventually, they came to a stop in front of an old-fashioned pizza place. The restaurant had a white-trimmed storefront on the bottom and, by the looks of it, a large apartment on top. 

"We just had lunch Bucky" Y/n smiled easily, joking, "I don't know how much more I can eat after Beatka's cabbage ro—"

"My mother would've loved you" he interrupted. 

The words lingered between them and for a second even Bucky seemed surprised by what he'd said. But then his eyes softened, 

"I mean it" 

"What was she like?" 

"Amazing, truly, I couldn't have asked for a better mom," he let out a wet laugh, "She always made sure everyone was cared for but never did one thing for herself, of course. As the oldest, I always tried to do little things for her, you know? To show her that at least someone cared. My dad, George, was good to her but he could've been there more, been more affectionate or attentive, I suppose." 

"She sounds nice Bucky, really nice" She cringed at her own awkwardness. 

"This is my old house, the one I grew up in...Steve kept it all these years, even when he thought I was dead, preserving it like some kind of time capsule"

"Do you ever go in?" She questioned. 

"Sometimes...but not today doll" he hesitated before admitting, "I think I'd like to move back here though, one day" 

"You will" she affirmed, making a look of surprise pass his face. "What?" 

"Nothing, nothing..." his words tapered off awkwardly before he held her hand again, "You're just so sure of it" 

"Mm," she considered that for a second, "If you want to move back, you'll move back, simple as that, at least that's what I think" 

"Well, I might just have to believe you then" his smile was knowing. 

~ 

requested account tags: cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana literaryavenger