#she didn't even whip him . . . she should have whipped him within an inch of his life

[sage-nebula]

Love how Godot shows up in 3-5 finally and just immediately starts acting like a misogynist piece of shit.

I don't love the "wild mare" thing, but I'm willing to give it a pass since it's symbolism the writers clearly want attached to Franziska and have therefore had Edgeworth call her that as well. What he does get dinged for is for asking Phoenix who Franziska is instead of just asking Franziska herself, as if Franziska is an incompetent child and Phoenix is her parent or legal guardian. That Phoenix just goes along with it instead of passing the baton to Franziska to speak for herself doesn't help matters.

But anyway, Phoenix says that Franziska handled the trial in Godot's stead, and Godot does thank her. And then:

I don't think I need to explain how fucking outrageous and godawful this is. I don't think it needs to be explained how this kind of talk is inarguably misogynistic, and not at all comparable with Edgeworth at his worst calling Mia a bimbo one (1) time. (Especially since this is supposed to be Godot at his best and most heroic; he gets no pushback AT ALL for ANY of this!)

Some have said that this is all changed dialogue for the localization, and that could very well be true. But I don't agree with the argument that we can't allow it to influence our opinion of his character, because the localization is what we have and are playing. It's in the names we use for the characters, the voices we follow when writing fic, etc. I've been playing the localized games since either 2006 or 2007. The localized versions of the characters are what I know and base my opinions on. So the argument that, "But in Japanese he's—" is an interesting bit of translation trivia, but it doesn't change the fact that in English he's a misogynistic shitbag and I wish he would get thrown off Eagle Mountain headfirst. (Both Dahlia and Phoenix survived, I'm sure it wouldn't kill him.)

Anyway. That's my soapbox. Not tagging this with character names, but it WILL show up in tumblr's search pages because of the difference in how tag pages and search pages work. Please learn that difference before you try to yell at me; I am too tired to deal with being yelled at because people think typing a character name into the search bar brings them to the tag page. (It doesn't.)

[dowagergreen]

i present to you:

"Ser Otto reminded them that Rhaenyra's husband was none other than Prince Daemon, and 'we all know that one's nature. Make no mistake, should Rhaenyra ever sit the Iron Throne, it will be Lord Flea Bottom who rules us, a king consort as cruel and unforgiving as Maegor ever was. My own head will be the first cut off, I do not doubt, but your queen, my daughter, will soon follow.'" (Fire and Blood, pg 395)

and:

"Queen Alicent echoed him. 'Nor will they spare my children.' she declared. 'Aegon and his brothers are the king's trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of bastards. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones.'" (Fire and Blood, pg 396)

but yeah, the greens definitely didn't have serious motivations to do what they did. alicent surely didn't worry for the safety of her children when it comes to daemon because there is absolutely no evidence of him disliking her (when viserys chose her as his new wife he "reportedly whipped the serving boy who brought him the news within an inch of his life" pg 361), being cold to her sons ("men said that the prince was notably cool toward her children, especially his nephews, Aegon and Aemond, whose births had pushed him still lower in the order of succession" pg 369), or just generally being someone who delighted at the opportunity to be violent (see: his time as commander of the city watch, detailed briefly on pg 355).

you can say that you don't think they were correct in those assumptions if you want i suppose, but to act like they are baseless is stretching. honest to god my hottest take might be that rhaenyra would have had an easier time ascending if she'd not married daemon. he wrecked any goodwill or credibility she could have ever had with alicent. and honestly.... i can't blame her for worrying about the safety of her children.

[ofhope]

He finally sat her down, within her room where there was nothing illuminating the area but a little candle light. Today was the day he decided to tell her..everything. "You know I told you that I'm not from this world right? Well I never shared you where I did come from because at the time I just wasn't ready to share that story..but tonight..and us becoming so much closer, I just love you too much to keep it a secret so I hope you believe me." The saiyan took a deep breath and looked into the flames of the candle. "I came from a ruined world where humanity was pushed to the brink of extinction because of two man-made monsters. Two cyborgs that wanted nothing but to bring terror into the world. My mentor Gohan was the only one strong enough to fight them but it wasn't enough, he was killed because I wasn't strong enough to protect him. Two years later, I decided to enter the fight on my own but I hardly did anything. Now this is the part where I MIGHT lose you, but my mother had created a time machine so I can go to the past and help my mother's friends who were all fighters, so they wouldn't have to go through what we did."

He was a man of scattered speech. He spoke when thought necessary, and didn't at other times, and it was all the same endearing — Yoimiya would pitch in, fill the empty spaces, with no issue at all. If there was a silence, it was agreed upon, and comfortable... the sort that lulls you into sleep, the sort that nestles up to your shoulders. So, whenever Trunks had whisked her away for a talk, her mind was jammed full of ideas!

... More leaning on the less intimate side, admittedly (had he finally come up with some meals she could whip up for him? did he get that super secret kimono she had fashioned for him specifically?), and thus appropriately Yoimiya applied herself: a listening posture, a smile that softened at the edges. Even with his gaze far from hers, Yoimiya made sure his hands weren't, both hands pillowing one of his own. Comfort from all angles, her mind surmised.

In spite of being cast in a fog of unknowing (cyborgs, time machines, alternate universes?), Yoimiya hadn't let her bewilderment paint her features, her only shifts coming in her inching closer, parting for distance, but never allowing too large a gap.

"Like the Ruin Sentinels," Yoimiya voiced. "But more... intent, I guess I should say. Not much has been uncovered regarding the automatons, whether their actions are controlled, programmed or otherwise, but... they sound like a more souped-up version of them."

More deadly went without saying.

"I'm sorry. That you had to go through that, I mean. Hey, listen for a sec," angling his chin thus, Yoimiya forced their eyes to meet. "I wasn't there, I know I can't offer any first-hand accounts, but... it's not that you weren't strong enough. It wasn't your mentor's fault, either - it was the work of whatever those things were. It had nothing to do with your strength or his, and had everything to do with them."

Palm atop of his hand once more, she caressed aimlessly every bump, every frayed scar. They weren't the hands of a craftsman, of a textile worker, of a farmer. They were the hands of a fighter, belonging to the man she loved. A man who blamed himself too often, a fighter who deemed himself too weak too often.

"I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, and I won't tell you how to process it. But I don't want you holding this blame forever, okay? Past, present, future, whatever - you've got enough in your arms already, that'll just send you toppling!"

Nose bumped against the plush of his cheek, she gripped tight his hand.

"For what it's worth? I think it's super cool that you got here because of a, uh, time... thingy. And your mom made it?! How long did you plan on keeping that from me?! Do you got any blueprints, or- ooh, you guys probably had an upgraded Kamera, right? Did you get any pictures—?!"

With this weight saddled on his chest... it was no wonder Trunks was most at home with silence. If only by an ounce, if only by a fraction, Yoimiya hoped to help lift this weight, to set it off to the side not to be forgotten, but to be a past reminder; an old ache, now healed.

Just as he had worked, just as he had trained, so would she.

[lunaetis]

@unboundtravels asked :

[ Spank ] (For Goth / Yelan)

oddly specific sensual touches. || accepting

[ spank ] — sender spanks receiver

─「夜兰」─  taking the DOCTOR with her on a mission where disguise was needed had several benefits in and out of itself. one being how she'd have a company that she could trust to watch her back, and secondly, she wouldn't have to pretend to be someone else in his presence. that, and the DOCTOR was rather well-versed in conducting himself under pressure and social gathering. he could be charming when he wanted to be, and he was a pleasant company to have most of the time. the word most of the time was the key here.

                a conversation with a few politicians and diplomats and the INFORMANT found herself wanting to roll her eyes at them should she didn't have a front to keep. she had already gotten what she came here for, having sneaked out of the party itself to enter the hidden vault she found within the BLUEPRINT acquired even before the mission. standing off to the side, her partner for the night appeared to have sensed her boredom and had a rather risky idea to spice things up for the night.

                the feel of his hand smoothing her leg and thigh earned a small glance from the liyuan spy. gaze of AQUAMARINE stared quietly as those skillful digits mapped themselves upwards without a single sound, slowly hiking up her evening dress that clung to her fair skin. from the angle they were standing, no one would be able to see what his hand was doing, and the THRILL was enough to have her heave a deep exhale. however, she made no move to stop him. if anything, the way she shifted her position for him to get a better feel was MORE THAN OBVIOUS a response to what he had in mind. the pleasure ran through her form, licking up from the inside and spreading like wildfire. with how many times they had been physically intimate with one another, he, unfortunately, knew all her weak spots and was taking advantages of that.

                COMPOSURE was maintained, but her breathing was getting a bit warmer the further his hand went up. teasing, fleeting touches he brushed over her inner-thighs, not allowing her to feel the sensation fully or he'd be too bold to slip his hand right under her dress and stroke her where she needed it most. teeth sank into her lip, fingers trembling only for a moment. those eyes of hers were darkened when they met his crimson hues once more, and that was when he slipped his digit inside, and rubbed at her moistened core.

                that did it.

                the door of the BALCONY was flung open, and how fortunate they were that the place was empty. her hand tugged his own out of the ballroom, drawing the curtain over the exit and closed the door, only to FORCEFULLY pinned him against the wall, her beautiful form pressed up against his own with their lips barely inches apart.

                " enjoying yourself there, aren't you, doctor ? " she purred, boldly grinding against his lower half, thighs parted and darkened hues stared deep into his sanguine optics. she could feel his hands on her hips, before a SEARING PAIN of his palm slapping harshly against the flesh of her rear caused her to jolt from surprise. a growl echoed from the back of her throat. with a whip of her finger, the HYDRO LIFELINE wrapped itself around his wrists, causing them to be tied at his back and his frame arched up from the position itself. yelan gave a deep chuckle, one that would send shivers right down his spine.

                " shouldn't you be the one getting punished ? " she TIGHTENED her lifeline a little more, making feel that small hint of pain the same way he had slapped her across her curvy ass. the sting was throbbing, but how it added to the thrill of them being IN PUBLIC. her fingers traced down his chest, tailing a seductive line towards his crotch and toying with the bulge that was beginning to form. her hips grinded against him, hard, lips to his ear in a throaty growl mixed with allured tone.

                " no touching until i say so, dear doctor. "

[notacoward]

Severus didn't want Lily to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. He couldn't be perceived as weak or fragile because then he could be taken advantage of, and that was something he'd been fighting against since he was a child.

Groaning in pain, he felt a little better at the mattress beneath him. At least it wasn't the hard floor. "Wouldn't fall," he mumbled at Lily's question. He knew he needed to elaborate, but another jolt of pain rushed through him --- after-effects from the Cruciatus, again. "He was in a... bad mood," he said slowly, his voice wavering from the pain. "Was just looking for someone to take his anger out on. I didn't do anything specifically wrong, I was just unlucky," he explained. "He used the Cruciatus on me and I stayed standing... something he admires. It is not the first time. He used it again and I stayed upright. The third time my legs gave way beneath me and I started seizing," he said, still feeling all that pain course through him like it had just happened again. "As punishment for falling, he ripped my shirt and cloak off and began whipping me. Said if I was stronger, I wouldn't have fallen. First he was disappointed in me, but then said he was proud that I took the lashes so well. He let me go after that," he said shakily.

Dorcas rushed back in with some of the healing supplies and sat down on the bed with him and Lily. "Okay, Severus, let's get you on your front so we can wash out these wounds. Alright? One, two, three..." She helped Lily turned him over and Severus moaned in pain, the noise muffled into the pillows. As Dorcas poured anti-septic over his back, he gripped the sheets tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, his strangled noises dying within the pillows.

"Almost there, Severus, almost..." Dorcas soothed worriedly, handing some things to Lily that she could use to help with the wounds. "What can I do to help with the Cruciatus damage?"

"Just rest. No help," he mumbled. His brain was fried from everything. He just wanted to pass out for three days straight and not move.

After a while, Severus's back was bandaged up and dressed. The bed was damp with blood and sweat and various liquids from all the supplies they'd gone through. He didn't even care. He could shower later. He was barely staying awake.

"Lily, we should probably go..." Dorcas started. "Severus needs the rest."

"No," Severus murmured softly before Lily could get up. Slowly, he inched his hand into hers and squeezed as much as his body could --- which wasn't a lot. "Lily, please stay for a while," he whispered. He was showing a vulnerable side, but Dorcas was someone who had been in his corner even as a teenager, and he felt he could trust her. He hoped they kept this situation a secret from everyone else. He hated people fussing over him. The only person he'd ever allowed to do it was the woman sitting right here next to him.

Lily searched through his eyes with her own, knowing even if she wanted to there was nothing she could say to argue against that. Severus was driving the point home deeper than he probably realized, but she was going to have to think about it all just a bit later.

For now she just nodded, figuring that made as much sense as anything. She still wanted to talk James down, figure out their life, but she had seen too much of what happened with Eileen to not be just a little nervous about it. “I know you’re in my corner.

And that helps a lot it’s just-“ She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to defend her choice, almost having to tiptoe around it because she knew at least to him a lot of it was going to sound like obligation. And considering what she believed about herself, that wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be.

But before she could launch into any explanations he was called away, disappointingly but leaving her a little unsurprised. Something from either side always seemed keen on interrupting them whenever they were trying to hash things out, especially about her relationship.

If she were a more superstitious witch, Lily might have believed that was supposed to mean something. But she just watched him go with at least a little security he wasn’t angry at her too. Granted she had given both the boys silent treatment for days, so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised that James was now doing the same thing to her.

At least he wasn’t begging and pleading to crawl into her bed tonight, clearly expecting her to be the one to come crawling back. Usually when they fought she was always the one to try to reset the status quo.

It wasn’t exactly a good sign that she was looking at this more like a break, but acknowledging that led to other thoughts she just didn’t want to deal with right now. Everything was muddled up in her head, and she needed to actually clear it before trying to figure anything out.

Turning in early she dozed off here and there, but the thudding against her door had her shooting up in bed, wand grabbed off the nightstand as quick as a blink. Out of the ordinary in a safe house never spelled anything good for anyone.

“What is going on out here??” The first thing she saw swinging the thing open was a very concerned Dorcas, even more worried than usual, before Severus all but fell at her feet. Now she had a lot of assumptions about what happened when he went before his other master.

She’d never really asked him about it, mostly not wanting to think about how he had gotten so high and mighty over there. But those assumptions painted absolute horror across her face when she saw the state of his back. “What the hell…” It was like her heart had stopped beating long enough to make her blood turn cold.

Seeing the way his body seized and jolted was what spurred her into action, instinctively knowing they couldn’t let any of the others see him like this. And he needed medical attention, as much as possible. “Help me get him in here!”

Bending down she grabbed Severus under the arm and Dorcas quickly stepped over to help with the other side. “Right. One, two, three…” It took some effort but they were able to - with him kicking the floor - to be able to drag him onto the bed at least sideways.

“I’m going to get the emergency kit from downstairs, you-“

“Yeah I got it. Go!” Lily waved her off, trying to ignore her trembling hands as she knelt down beside the bed and took Severus’ hands in bed face, trying to see how lucid he was. “What happened to you?”

[reallyromealone]

Hi there, can I request a part for eddie munson a/b/o fic where they have a kid. I had a small idea (you can do with it what you want) the idea was reader going into his first heat after having their kid. Sorry if this is too non-specific and if you don't feel like writing it, it's okay. Thank you ❤️

-🦝(can I be this anon if it's not already taken)

Yesyesyes

I was thinking of this but was too lazy to write it but now is my chance and don't worry about specifics Hun, I worked with less!

And sure! I really need to keep track of my anons

X

The doctors said it would take rough 6-8 weeks for (name) to get another heat after having (sons name) and to be ready because it would hit (name) like a truck.

The doctor also said it was more likely he would have more...paternal heats instead of a mating heat and honestly they were fine with it.

It was the early hours when Eddie smelt it and glanced over to see his angel wearing his shirt and with their two month old son and trying to fix the nest "hey baby, you need help?" (Name) whipped his head to look at his alpha and purred when he saw him without a shirt and handed the pup over before working on the nest, the tiny pup making little noises as he settled into his dad's chest.

Eddie had never seen (name) in a maternal heat though Dustin aways said he was very strange during it and Eddie could see why, he was almost in a trance making that nest and at the smallest sound was in defence mode.

"What a pretty nest baby... Keeping our pup safe, such a good boy" Eddie soothed his Omega who all but melted from his words and laughed slightly as (name) tugged him into the nest and snuggled into him and pulled (sons name) closer and the tiny pup just clung helplessly to his mama.

Eddie struggled not to fall into his instincts as he watched over his tiny pack, (name) dazed and whining when he moved an inch and constantly scenting and smooching him for attention, the warmth of the nest soothing as the couple scenting each other and (sons name).

When the doorbell rang (name) pulled their pup closer and moved further into the nest and closet as a whole and Eddie just soothed the Omega who was freaking out when the doorbell was rang repeatedly and knew immediately who was on the other side as he walked out of the room, closing the closet door to make sure his Omega was secure before throwing open the door to stare down the party who looked smug "jeez what took so long?" Mike said with a shit eating grin when Dustin smelt it "oh shit..." Causing the others save for Eddie to look at him confused "what?" Max asked with a tilt of the head "shit already!" He ignored Max's question and Eddie nodded "amazed he didn't follow you out"

"He's currently guarding (sons name)"

"What's going on?" El asked curiously and Eddie sighed "(name)s in heat" he said simply and Dustin took off his sweater and handed it to Eddie "here" Eddie took the sweater and ruffled his brother in law's hair "you need anything?" Lukas asked the elder alpha who nodded "I need you shits to get a case of water, easy but healthy snacks and diapers" he said grabbing his wallet and pulled out thirty dollars "this should cover it, you know the diapers yeah?" Dustin nodded, having seen the box more than enough times within the few months and took the cash "good, for the next few days if you need anything" a soft whine could be heard from down the hall and the pups all looked curious at it "ask Stevie and Robbie or hell even Nancy" and with that the door closed.

"Well friends, we have a new quest!" Dustin said excited and the group went off to the grocery store "what's a heat?" El asked curiously and the others realized she probably had zero clue about any of this stuff "well you know how he's an Omega like me right?" Maxs voice calm and El nodded "well once a month for 2-5 days an Omega will have an urge to make a baby" she said simply and El nodded "though since (sons name) is present the instinct to mate is satiated and now it's protect and scent"

El took in the information and nodded, it kind of made sense to the young alpha "will Mike get a heat?"

"He's a beta so no"

"Will you?"

"Well Mr. Stevens said omegas don't get heats until around 16-17 so not for a while"

The group made it to the grocery store and got the supplies not to mention a snack for each of them.

It was Eddie's way of paying the pups for getting stuff, go to the store you can get a treat.

"Why easy snacks?" Will asked curiously and Dustin sighed "(name) can be a shit when it comes to eating during heat, kind of need easy foods to trick him into eating"

"How did you do that?*

"I take a bite and he takes a bite, he would only eat if he knew I ate"

When the pups returned Eddie opened the door but with a fresh mating mark on his neck "excellent, you guys get your snack?"

"Yup!"

The pups helped him being the stuff in before leaving, Eddie then returned to the best with two water bottles and a soft granola bar and bit it before going into a kiss and pushing it into (name)s mouth and doing the same with water "gotta stay healthy baby" Eddie said softly when the Omega pouted, the mating mark on his skin still slightly bloody from Eddie's teeth and canines.

Situating their son in a safe spot (name) crawled on-top of Eddie and snuggled into his bare chest, the Alpha pulling him close "shhh go to sleep Omega" he gently used a command as he felt his mate slowly grow limp in his arms.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead��!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[sweetestlamb]

Bring Me To Life

Summary: Kang Sujin has never had anyone to turn to, hiding behind a façade her entire life. Someone begins to peek behind the mask. 

Author’s note: My two favorite characters in TB are Seojun and Sujin, both characters who are honestly treated like trash by the writers. I cannot begin to tell how upsetting it was to see Sujin’s character assassination or how painful it is to watch her being physically abused knowing that the writers will not give her therapy or a true happy ending. She’s just here to be beaten and vilified. Seojun, I won’t even rant everyone knows what the problem is (idk who told them we wanted to see Start-Up the high school edition.) So I wrote this after watching the most recent episode and hating most of it for these reasons. I don’t know how far it’ll go or how often I can update, but I need my two babies to have a happy ending preferably together because the visuals are just a dreammmm. 

The rain crashes down loudly from aggrieved storm clouds bellowing above her in the sky, the chilled condensation plastering her thin satin pajamas to her trembling body. She had to get out, the pain in her cheek numbing and electrifying all at once.

How dare she tell him that she didn't want to get married, want to stand on her own two feet without a man giving her value?

His hand had flown across the room before she could sidestep the blow, the fragile glass filled with water in her hand- the very reason she'd left her room in the dead of night- shattering into jagged pieces as it collided with a greater force. Just like her.

She hadn't been trying to eavesdrop but it was hard not to hear him chuckling deeply on the phone, offering up his only child like she was an item on a menu.

"Yes we should set them up. It seems Suho isn't interested and she should marry young, that's when women are worth the most."

Nausea rolled like waves in the pits of her stomach and before she could think logically, her feet were sprinting into the living room, air barely filling her lungs as she stared at the man she'd never once thought of as a father. The last time she'd made the grave mistake of calling him daddy he'd smacked her so hard that was how she lost her first tooth. He'd been father ever since or Mr. Kang. She tried her best to avoid him at all cost, she would never be good enough and it was getting harder to hide the marks he left behind.

It was difficult to remember clearly what occurred seconds after her refusal to marry a man she didn't know left her lips, his fist connected and she was knocked back onto their coffee table the sharp edge cutting at her cheek. As she looked at him, anger painting his face a demonic red, fear crippled her and her hands twitched desperately wanting to wash them raw. Then he grabbed a thick marble ashtray from the table and her instincts took over and she was out the door, running as fast as she could, knowing her life was at stake and she couldn't afford to stop.

When the cloud in her head cleared that was when she found herself at the bus stop.

Judgmental whispers breeze by her ears as people passed by with umbrellas, shocked to see the young girl crying in her pajamas at the stop, but none stopped to offer her help or inquire about her situation, happy just to pass judgement. She ignores them all, panicking racing through her blood until she's unable to breathe, choking on nothing as she twitches in the harsh air. Her throat constricts as she screams at herself, breathe. 

Breathe.

BREATHE! 

But it's useless as her body shuts down, forgetting how to do the basic function, she sways as she starts to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen and with a final wheeze she collapses. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He signs as he weaves past cars moving far too slowly, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he marginally misses nipping a car to the left of him, easily dragging his motorcycle away with the fluid movements of his body. He glares up at the sky before cursing, "Fucking weather report didn't say anything about a sudden rainstorm." If he'd known he would have stayed home, always hating the rain. It brought back bad memories.

Halting at a red light, he puts his leg down for balance bouncing slightly in place. Pulling the shield up on his helmet he glances around, recognizing the area easily, before something in his peripheral catches his attention, a lump on the ground. Tilting his head he revs his trusty iron steed to live, riding over to the direction of the mysterious mass on the wet ground. As he gets closer his heart falters, it's too evident now. 

It's a person.

Jumping off his bike and pushing out the kickstand he flings his helmet off, his hair immediately drenched under the downpour as he races over to help. As he nears the figure, it becomes clearer it's a woman wearing what looks like sleep clothes. Momentarily he wonders if this is a crazy person and if he should just mind his business but a frightening image of his little sister unconscious on the ground and no one coming to her aid flashes in his mind.

"I'll just check if she's breathing and call an ambulance. That's all, if she tries to attack me I'll just ride away." He takes a deep breath, collecting his courage before closing the gap between him and the unconscious woman.

Crouching beside her, he reaches out a hand hesitating before sighing and shaking at her cold shoulder. No response. He shakes harder now, watching the motion quake through her entire body, but still she is unresponsive.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay? Wake up, you're scaring me!" He starts to jiggle her with both hands, before he crawls into her space not caring about his safety any longer, the idea that this unknown woman might be dead is making him nauseous. People are always dying without his permission. It's so frustrating.

"Wake up! Come on!" He shouts at the figure now holding both her shoulders and turning the woman over, lifting her face from its place on the ground, cradling her limp body in his lap. After two more vicious shakes, she starts to cough and groan in his arms. Relief swims through his veins as he watches her come back to life, anxiously watching as her dewy long lashes flutter open and he's caught in a lifeless deep gaze.

"Han Seo-Jun?"

It takes a long pause for him to register that the woman has said his name and then a longer moment to recognize who she is.

"Kang Su-Jin?" He replies in genuine shock, taking in the wom--young girl in his arms. She's shivering so violently that it's becoming difficult to hold onto her, vibrating out of his hold before he grips her tighter, whipping off his jacket without second thought and wrapping it around her. Goosebumps raising on his skin as his body mentally berates his lack of survival skills.

"What are you doing here?" She looks at him bewildered as if the stranger occurrence is his presence and not her own.

He squints his eyes looking back at her, "I could ask you the same thing. I found you unconscious here. I thought you were...." He trails off unable to utter the rest of his sentence.

"You should have left me here. Maybe I would have. If I was that lucky."

"What? Are you crazy, you want to die? Did you do this to yourself, what are you on?!" He roars at her, rage flooding his system as he shouts at the stupid girl, how dare she try to kill herself and leave her body for him to find? He wishes he had taken a different route, that he'd never come across her. He was in no state to comfort someone who was suicidal, still too raw and hurt. What was so hard about living that made people want to do that? Hot tears gather in his eyes as he abruptly pulls away from Sujin, unapologetic as she tumbles to the ground without his support.

She starts at him, stunned before righteous fury twists her features and she roars back at him.

"Who are you to judge me! I didn't ask you to help me, leave me alone!"

He glares back at her ready to yank his jacket away and run away from her but a small movement stops him, as she's screaming at him a small muscle twitches in her cheek bringing his attention to said cheek. It's nearly purple, standing out obscenely on her pale skin and then he notices the split lip and the bruises on her neck and he's so ashamed of himself he could bawl.

He deflates before speaking to her, "What happened to your face? Who did this to you?"

He doesn't know what kind of look he has on his face but before his questions can even settle between them she's sneering and twisting away from him, throwing his jacket on the ground before making her escape. Unprepared for her sudden departure he reacts too late, before chasing after her. It's easy to close the distance separating them with his long legs and within seconds she's merely inches in front of him, he reaches out a large hand to grab her wrist but hesitates recalling the bruises littering her frame. Instead he races past her, blocking her with his body swerving to the left and then the right when she tries to dodge him. They play this cat and mouse game before she finally gives up, glaring up at him with moist enraged eyes.

"Why do you care? We aren't even friends!"

Her piercing shout rings in his ears as he looks down at her passively. He can't answer that question, doesn't know what brought him to this area so late and not understanding why he was the one to find her in this condition. He doesn't know why he cares. But maybe things could have been different if Se-Yeon had someone to chase him. Maybe he'd still be alive...

So he answers her honestly.

"I don't want anymore people to die."

To his complete shock she starts to cry, tears falling rapidly from her eyes before she crumples to the ground, the rain pounding on her head and he stands still unsure of what to do before he drapes the jacket he'd rescued from the ground over her head, shielding her from most of the thunderous downpour. When she looks up to see the jacket protecting her, he almost falls backwards as her head slams into his chest, her tears simmering hot on his chilled body. It's almost painfully uncomfortable but he doesn't move away. Letting her cry on his chest, his shirt is soaked anyway this makes no difference.

He doesn't know how long they are crouched there on the ground, so dark that the sidewalk is completely devoid of anyone else, it feels like they are the only two people left on Earth.

"If we stay here you're going to get a cold."

He voices his concern but the only reply he receives is a gross sounding sniffle and he grimaces, knowing that his poor shirt is probably damaged beyond repair covered in snot and tears.

Sighing he starts to repeat himself before she whispers, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"I can take you home." Her fists tighten in his drenched shirt, he can practically feel the fear wafting off her, he'd assumed the marks on her face were from a possessive unhinged boyfriend but her reaction makes him uneasy. He tries to push those unpleasant thoughts to the corner.

"What about your friends? Why don't you call Su-ah or Ju-Kyung, I’m sure they’ll help you.” 

She stiffens in his arms before shaking her head in decline.

"No. I can't let anyone else see me like this. I don't need them looking at me the way you did, like I'm a sad pitiful puppy. I never want anyone look at me like that again."

He can respect that, he never wants to appear weak in front of others. It was easier to become angry and lash out rather than showing your true heart, nobody could hurt you that way.

"Then what? Where do you want to go?"

"I have nowhere to go. I'll stay here until morning. I'll be fine, you can go."

He looks at her dumbfounded, what kind of man would leave a battered woman alone in the rain? He wasn't raised by animals, damn it.

"Let's go." He makes a point not to touch her, their only point of connection are her hands twisted in his shirt.

"What?"

He bulldozes past her confusion, looking at her with what he hopes are comforting eyes.

"I'm taking you to my house. I can't just leave you here."

"Are you crazy? Don't you live with your mother and sister, what will they say?"

He winces at the logical inquiry, he had already considered that himself, thinking of his mother's subsequent smacks and his sister's teasing once they learned what he'd done but still deciding that he has no other choice. He can't just leave her here.

He shrugs, "That's my problem to worry about. I'm not leaving you here, I'd really like to get out of his rain. Let's go." He repeats himself harder, pleading with her.

She looks away and he's prepared to throw her over his shoulders and face the consequences when he hears her response, "Okay. Let's go."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It's a quiet ride back, the engine rumbling through the aching bones of her frozen body. Han Seojun. The last person she ever expected to see after being roused from her panic induced collapse. Her arms tighten around his thin waist as he swerves around a car, adrenaline and fear battling for dominance in her body. When her fingers accidentally brush across wet bare skin she quickly moves her hands higher, fighting the embarrassment that washes over her.

If he notices she can't hear his reaction over the roar of the motorcycle.

When they finally pull up to a small apartment, she loosens her hold on him cracking her frozen digits.

"You didn't need to hold that tightly, I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I ride this everyday you know."

She doesn't reply focusing on getting off the bike, swinging her leg over and hopping off not graceful but effective, a small proud smile spreads on her face before she gazes back at him.

He stares back before shaking his head, as if lost in a daze before he stomps off for her to follow.

Wordlessly she trails behind him, feeling foolish in her duck pajamas, a gift from Su-ah.

When he pushes his front door open, letting her in first she steps out of her sopping wet house slippers standing awkwardly looking around.

"Stay here. I'll get towels so we don't trail too much water."

She nods at his command, gazing at the floor and seeing how much water is already pooling around her feet.

"Here." He hands her a fluffy pink towel, she raises an eyebrow at the color.

"It's the guest towel. I wouldn't give you my towel."

That makes sense, sharing towels is far too intimate for the relationship they have. That being none. 

She rapidly towels at her hair, before running the towel down her body and wrapping it around her waist.

"You can use the bathroom. It's the second door on the right. I'll bring you dry clothes."

She steps cross the doorway, finally entering his home. Before she turns back to him staring directly into his eyes, "Than.... You didn't have to do this." She loses her confidence but his answering smirk lets her know he understood enough, with that she walks to the bathroom locking herself inside.

The sight of her bruised face in the mirror makes her pause, reaching up to finger at the stark purple mark on her cheek. She's crying before she can control her emotions, tears dripping into the sink as she remembers her night, how close she was to the end despite what she said to Seojun she wanted to live. As her father stood above her ready to snuff her out like a mere nuisance in his life, she realized with a burning passion how desperately she wanted to live.

A soft knock drags her back to reality as she rapidly wipes her tears away.

"I'm leaving clothes by the door. You can come out whenever you're ready. I'm making tea."

When she hears the light steps of his feet moving away from the door she opens the door a crack, picking up the neatly folded pile of clothes. Sending the boy a mental thank you before closing the door quietly.

It's clear that these clothes belong to Seojun, draping off her body, too large for her frame, a black T-shirt with a microphone on the center and sweatpants that cover her feet as well, he'd even remembered to bring her socks. Instantly she feels her body warming as her body temperature returns to normal. 

Folding her wet clothes and splashing water on her face then using the towel to rub it dry, she exits the bathroom walking towards the light she sees assuming that's the kitchen.

"The water's almost done boiling. Sit down."

His deep voice greets her as she follows his orders and takes a seat.

"Are these your clothes?"

"What? Oh yeah they're mine, sorry my sister locked her door. They're very old though, I haven't worn them in years I thought they would fit you better." He eyes her as he says the last sentence, "I guess it didn't make much of a difference I'm just too tall and manly for my own good."

She scoffs at his narcissistic comment rolling her eyes "Tall and manly my foot. You're so skinny I could probably pick you up with one arm."

He immediately turns at her comment, affronted look on his face, "Shut up! It's hard for me to put on weight, I'm not that skinny."

He places his hands on his hips, looking down at himself before puffing his chest out to make himself appear broader, it's so ridiculous that she can't control her reaction.

Sudden uncontrollable laughter.

She laughs breathlessly, folding onto her lap trying to contain her giggles but his scandalized look makes her laugh harder and she has to stuff her face in her elbow to prevent herself from waking his family.

After a few minutes of random spasms of laughter she finally peers back up at him.

He looks just like he did outside when she'd smiled after successively getting off his motorcycle.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. I just never see you smile at school."

"Well you never do anything worth smiling about." She quips back, wondering if she'd gone too far but he doesn't reply beyond a slight smile that's gone too fast to even be titled that, he places her steaming cup of tea before her sipping at his own after blowing on it.

They drink in comfortable silence.

She's the first to rapture the silence, "I don't need pity."

"I don't pity yo--"

"But thank you. Thank you for stopping. Thank you for this, thank you."

He stares wordlessly before nodding, a slight blush on his cheeks before he hides his face in the cup of tea. She doesn't bring attention to it.

"You can sleep in my room. It's the door next to the bathroom."

Humming she looks up, fatigue hitting her like a brick at the mention of sleeping.

"Where will you sleep?"

"I have a perfectly good couch, don't argue you're sleeping in my room. That's final. It's better that my mother doesn't see a strange woman on the couch when she wakes up."

Well, she can't argue with that logic.

"Okay." Drinking the last of the soothing beverage, she stands up walking over to place the cup in the sink.

"Good night." She starts to walk back in the direction of the bathroom, seeing another door next to it. Seojun's room. Twisting the doorknob she pushes it open, before she hears his voice from behind her.

"If you need anything I'm right outside."

Blinking her tears away, she nods without looking back, too vulnerable with his palpable concern.

When she lays her head down on his pillow, his scent fills her senses and she falls into a deep restless slumber feeling safer than she has in long time.

Tomorrow will be horrible.

But tonight, she will allow herself to breath easy knowing that someone is on her side.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 24- Let Them Come

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3134

Warnings: Corpse burning.

AN: I found this GIF a long time ago on tumblr and I have no idea who made, but credit to them.

23- Silver Fox

... The makeshift pyre was constructed in a matter of hours. Dabria was secured tightly against the wood with mountains of hay surrounding her corpse. Artemis's eyes followed the dancing flames as they licked at the dead woman's feet.

She stood beside Ivar and all the people behind them, to watch her burn. The colorful flames illuminated the night sky and the smell of scorching flesh lingered in the air.

Dabria's face was a mangled mess of loose beating red flesh. Her skull was visible under all the flapping skin, cracked and deformed. It did not bother Artemis in the least, not as it would have before. She assumed her heart would ache, or at the very least, grieve the death of a misfortunate woman. But she didn't. Her heart hardened and her eyes were blank. Perhaps it was because the woman was not alive, but merely a corpse. The dead could not feel anymore pain.

Ivar looked dissatisfied, almost disappointed, at the lack of torture and pain. He would have preferred the woman alive, begging and screaming for her life for daring to hurt his wife. Instead he watched a lifeless body become cinders. To him, it was a dull affair, but it was enough to send a message.

He turns to look at Artemis. Even with the hood of her cloak on he could still make out her expression in the night. Apathetic. It made him smile. She was becoming stronger.

"Let the people watch if they wish," She tells him, her voice low, "I tire of watching her burn." She absentmindedly places her hand on her wounded shoulder, the wrappings easily felt through the fabric of her cloak. Ivar nods, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"As you wish, baby bird." The king raises a hand, signaling the guard of their departure. Walking away from the docks, Artemis takes one last look at the pyre. She was happy to see her burn.

...

"Strike me." Artemis raises a brow at Ivar, looking down at the sword in her hands. It was Hvitserk's, one of his prized possessions. She's worked on it more than a few times, the handle already familiar in her hands.

It had been decided that she should receive training in self defense. So far, she had done well on her own, but it had been sheer luck, likely divine intervention from the gods.

"Well?" Ivar smirks. He sat upon the tree stump located in the old training grounds of his youth. He held a blue shield covering his left side and his favored axe held in his right. He sat perfectly still, resembling a statue, legs bound together as he had no need for his metal cages.

"Do you think it wise...?" She begins to ask, and Hvitserk laughs, crossing his arms.

"My brother deserves a beating, use that strength," Ivar scowls at his older brother before smacking his axe against his shield.

"Come now, wife." Ivar calls out to her. Artemis was some distance away, but not far enough to ignore her husband's taunting smile. He wanted to raise an anger out of her, make her attack him like some kind of berserker.

She takes a cautious step forward, and then another before running at full speed in the way Hvitserk had taught her. She intended a quick strike, though she knew Ivar would block it with ease. Raising the large sword, she brings it down with all her might. It was an attempt at a slash, and just as she predicted, Ivar deflected the blow with his shield. The wood splintered slightly at the pressure of her force, and Ivar used his shield to smack it from her hands.

With a quickness he swings his axe, to which Artemis blocks with her own shield, pushing at him. She was heaving, chest rising and falling under her leather vest. Raising her shield, she attempts to strike him with it, but he was much faster, embedding his axe into the wood, successfully lodging it in deeply.

He pulls with all his might, bringing her forward with his brute strength. She lets out a yelp, body colliding atop of his, dropping her now useless shield.

"So, this is what you prefer, hmm?" Ivar says from under her, looking up at her with his infuriating smirk and sparkling eyes. He drops his weapons in favor of placing his large hands on her waist, using his thumbs to stroke her sides under her training tunic.

"Shut up," She retorts, pushing his face away from her own. She rolls off of him comically, body softly landing on the  grass. Hvitserk laughs something fierce, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

Training would prove to be difficult.

...

The days began to shorten and the nights grew long. The cold swept over Kattegat unmercifully, changing its leaves into different shades of red, yellow, and brown until there was nothing left but thin branches.

Then autumn was set aside for winter, its icy grip coating every inch of the town in snow. Trade had decreased for the time being, children played about less frequently, and families remained inside their homes where their hearth would keep them warm against the harsh elements.

That did not stop their Queen from stepping out to speak with the people. Though she was never an admirer of Kattegat's winters, she was slowly learning to embrace her new home and culture.

Artemis shivers from the cold despite wearing her warmest fur lined cloak, a luxury she was grateful for. Her newest guard Tordis, a shieldmaiden, follows behind her. Tordis was stoic, tall and brooding just like Heahmund, with dark eyes and thin lips set in a tight line. She wasn't the best company as Dafi had been, but Ivar trusted her enough to be Artemis's new shadow.

The marketplace buzzed with activity despite the slow oncoming snowstorm. Light flurries fell from the sky, a welcomed distraction from the noisy docks. The people crowded by the pier, all pushing at each other to take a look at the ship nearing their harbor.

"My Queen," Tordis says to her, "I think it's best we head back to the hall." Artemis had just finished speaking with an elderly woman, the wife of a farmer.

"I haven't finished making my rounds," Artemis tells her, smiling in farewell to the old woman before peeking up at the tall shieldmaiden, "I haven't even spoken to the fishermen yet. One of the wives is with child, you know." Tordis sighs.

"But the ship, my Queen."

"Ship?" It was only then that she noticed the people rushing towards their small dock. She whips around to get a glance herself, but she was far too short to see over the others.

"The King would want you with him in the hall. The people can wait." Tordis urges. Artemis sighs but nods, walking the familiar path towards the hall.

Already Aria comes skittering out from the kitchens once she is informed of the Queen's arrival. The redhead seemed nervous, wasting no time in removing the snow covered cloak from Artemis's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" She asks Aria immediately, already sensing the girls discomfort. Before she can answer, Heahmund hurriedly rushes over to them, his steps matching a soldier's march.

"Queen Artemis," Heahmund greets her, the sound of his voice clashing with that of yelling in the background, "Perhaps we should take a walk together?"

"Bishop. I've just come from outside." She says to him with a roll of her eyes, but stops short after hearing more yelling. The recognizable tone was unmistakably Ivar.

"Why is he in a rage?" She attempts to walk towards the sound of her angry husband, but Heahmund blocks her way.

"Heahmund," She huffs out, "Move."

"He's merely having a discussion with Hvitserk." Something shatters.

"That's a discussion to you?" She raises a brow and makes to walk around him but again he blocks her.

"He is angry."

"Oh? I haven't noticed!"

"Hvitserk will deal with him."

"But there is a ship intending to dock soon." Artemis says exasperated.

"He knows. That is why he is in a rage."

"I did not see their banners, are they friend or foe?" She asks worriedly, turning to look towards Tordis.

"I could not tell, my Queen." The shieldmaiden says to her. Artemis sighs but dismisses her before turning to Heahmund.

"What are you not telling me?" She switches to her native tongue, in case he was worried about others hearing. Heahmund scratches at his cropped hair before dropping his hand atop the pommel of his notorious sword out of habit.

"His brothers are due to dock by tonight." The shouting continues, Ivar's and Hvitserk’s voices seeming to come from deep within the hall, perhaps from the council chambers.

"His brothers?" She asks in disbelief, "Are they a threat?"

"They come with one ship. A messenger was sent ahead. They wish to discuss things peacefully."

"Peacefully? The last time they all saw each other was during war!"

"Which is why your husband is in a rage." With a sigh, Artemis walks towards the council chambers, but Heahmund reaches out to grab her arm, halting her movements. She shakes his grip off and he rolls his eyes.

One could not miss the yelling that threatened to knock down the chamber doors. Thralls scurried about, frightened, just as Aria had been. Artemis knocks on the door before opening it slowly. Hvitserk rushes forward, attempting to close it back.

"Hvitserk, let me in."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Artemis." He says hastily through the crack of the door.

"Artemis?" She hears Ivar question, already sensing his frustrations from the other side.

"I'm here, let me see you." She calls out to him, and after a whispered back and forth between him and Hvitserk, the elder brother reluctantly opens the door. He lets her and Heahmund through before softly shutting it.

The chamber was a complete mess. Parchments and maps strewn about and shattered pieces of things she could not identify littered the floor. The table was in disarray, with the candles used for nightly reading rolling off the surface. And in the center of it all was a very angry Ivar. He sat leaning over the table, body in a defensive mode, jaw clenched.

"Ivar," She begins softly, slowly making her way towards him as if he were a wounded animal. She carefully steps over the broken things that covered the floor, leaning up against him with a gentle hand on his back. This already seemed to calm him, though there was still a fire blazing in his eyes.

"They dare come to Kattegat!" He seethes for a moment, straightening his back to look her in the eyes, "They dare come here demanding peace?" His voice rose octaves, booming something fierce. Artemis quickly kneels to be at level with him.

"Do not strain yourself." She says, knowing fully well that he'd end up hurting his bones somehow. She places her cold hands on his heated face in an attempt to smooth out the angry lines, and for a moment it seemed to work. He then breathes out harshly, brows refusing to smooth over. He grits his teeth before speaking.

"You do not understand, wife." He was holding himself back, she could tell, from saying something offensive.

"I understand that you are angry, but your fury will cloud your judgement."

"I should execute them." He says suddenly, head raised as if he thought of the most brilliant plan.

"Ivar-" Hvitserk speaks up.

"I should have them executed the moment their feet touch the sand."

"They are our brothers!" Hvitserk roars, slamming both hands atop the wooden table.

"Yet they betrayed us, their kin!" Ivar roars back lurching forward, forgetting his own disability. The movement causes Artemis to step back with a frown. He turns to look at her, his wild eyes dimming at the sight of her. He plops back against his seat.

"I do not care for Ironside," He mutters, looking down for a moment towards the small dagger strapped to his side, "But perhaps I'll spare Ubbe." His tone was nonchalant.

"My king," Heahmund speaks up, "I believe you have a right to be suspicious," Hvitserk immediately turns to glare at the Bishop. Heahmund ignored him and continues, "But perhaps you should hear them out."

"And if it is a trap?" Ivar urges.

"We have the means to protect ourselves." Was the simple reply.

"They must be in dire need if they risk coming back to Kattegat," Artemis comments, flipping over a chair that was knocked over in Ivar's anger. She takes a seat beside him, grabbing his hand gently, making him look at her.

"Let them come," She tells them, "We shall then judge whether they come in pretense. What do you say?" She turns to look at Hvitserk, then Heahmund, who both look at each other, unsure.

"We can ready a few men," Hvitserk says after a moment, "And we meet them at shore."

"I will have your men at the ready, my King," Says Heahmund, "If you command it." Ivar drums his thick fingers against the table, his other hand in Artemis's grip. He then turns to look at her, as if searching her eyes for something.

"You need to be protected." He states.

"I need to be by your side, you mean," She counters, "I do not wish to appear weak."

"You are no warrior." His tone was finally softening, but there was still enough edge to understand that his decision would be final.

"I should be by your side to greet them!"

"Artemis is right," Hvitserk says, "If they do not see the Queen beside you, they will take it as a threat." Artemis smirks at Ivar's frown.

"She always gets in the way of danger," Ivar argues, "And it'll be more than an arrow to the ear or a slice to the shoulder. Lagertha's supporters rally with them."

"Tordis will be by my side," Artemis pleads, already setting that particular look she gave when she wanted something, "You trust her don't you?" Ivar huffs, sucking his teeth and ripping his hand away from her own to set it under his chin in thought.

"You are to come straight back to the hall with Tordis if danger does arise." Artemis nods her head enthusiastically and Ivar sighs.

"Very well," The king says, "Let them come."

...

The ship arrived late into the evening, just as the snow began to stick.

Ivar stood tall and proud, his eyes never leaving the sight of his brothers disembarking their ship. His jaw was clenched tight, his posture rigid and knuckles white from the tight grip on his crutch buried within the snow and through the sand.

Artemis shifts under the weight of her furs, the pelt of soft wolf hair heavy on her small shoulders. It was by far one of the most sumptuous articles of clothing that she had received. Ivar had made it a point that they were to be dressed in fine garments to display their wealth and power. It made her want to roll her eyes, as none of it was hers truly, but still, she indulged him. She stood to Ivar's right, the very vision of a beautiful queen with her dog beside her. Tordis stood behind her as agreed, one of the few things that eased Ivar's mind.

Hvitserk and Heahmund were on Ivar's left. Both were armed and ready incase of attack, though Hvitserk was far more apprehensive. He did not want to face his brothers in battle again. 20 armored men were lined up across the beach to protect their king. Some of the people stayed to watch while others scurried off home to avoid any potential conflict.

Torches were blazing along the edges of the docks to combat against the darkness. Only shadows could be seen disembarking the ship, one by one.

The tallest figure was Bjorn, who strides towards them with measured steps and a hand resting on his sword. He too was ready for any possible threat. He had hate emanating from his person, eyes a dead blue and lips tightly formed into a frown. He replaced his rope like hair with that of a shorter look, shaved down to his scalp. He looked frightening, as large as a bear standing on its hind legs. He quickly makes eye contact with Artemis, blue and grey clashing in an intense stare. Although his features did not betray him, there was a twinkle in his eye. He was surprised to see her.

Ubbe was behind him, hair as long as Bjorn's before he cut it, and a sadness in his eyes. Surely he missed his brothers. His eyes land on Ivar, though it was only for a fraction of a moment before he moves them to Hvitserk. They stared each other down for a few seconds, as if exchanging memories of their youth. Ubbe was not at all surprised by Artemis's appearance as Bjorn had been. Her cloak was finer than anything he'd ever seen her in. He knew she would elevate to her current position.

Behind him was Torvi the shieldmaiden and her children. She had a determination in her kohl lined eyes, a fire that could burn through all of them. Artemis focused her eyes on Torvi's children, afraid and gripping their mothers skirts. They had no fault in this.

"Brothers," Bjorn greets, crossing his hands over his front, "I see you've made the blacksmith a Queen." Bjorn's lips form a smirk, shifting his eyes to Heahmund, "And you've kept the bishop." Ivar snorts.

"Observant. Welcome back to Kattegat, brothers," Ivar's eyes land on the flaxen haired shieldmaiden, "And Torvi." The shieldmaiden glares, but does nothing more.

"To what do we owe...the pleasure of such a visit? Hmm?"

"Pleasantries." Says Bjorn, almost jokingly. If it weren't for the breeze and the loud crackling of the fires, anyone would have heard Ivar intake a breath of annoyance. He was certainly not amused.

"What do you want?" Ivar says, voice sharp as a whip.

"An alliance."

"I have enough of those. I don't need you."

"May we continue this inside? My children are cold." Ivar sucks his teeth, eyes shifting to the children in between Torvi's skirts. He feels Artemis tug on the sleeve of his tunic to get his attention.

"Don't turn the children away," She says to him, "They are innocent. Let them inside the hall." Ivar's nose flares, the furs wrapped around his shoulders making him look almost frightening. He licks his lips but nods reluctantly.

"You may enter my hall, but you must leave your weapons with my men."

Bjorn stares him down, before grunting and nodding his head.

"Agreed."

...

@heavenly1927​ @didiintheblog​ @leilabeaux​ @jzr201​ @inforapound​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @rastakami23 @ostra814​ @zumzum96​

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 8)

A/N: Ayoooo. Hey guys, here's part 8 and I'm so sorry if the previous chapters kind of frustrated you. I didn't really mean for it to but I hope you enjoy this one. I'll be posting 9 tomorrow or the day atfter. Thanks again for your feedbacks, y'all motivate me a lot ^^ ♥ (My Wi-Fi has prejudice against tumblr rn)

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Angst, bois. ANGST (I cried like a sucker during one part I wrote 😔) mention of blood, yet again drinking, some speckles of fluff, and unnecessary dialogue if you look closely enough :^ I feel like a terrible writer today

WC: 4k I think?

Tags: As always my taglist is always open uwu

@haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

@hardzzellos

"You look...beautiful." Ben's comment is indeed one thing to start the night. It's not like he's never told you that before–it's just the tone in which he has said it in is...different. A foreign tone never been released from his lips until you. You look up at him through your lashes, giving him a slanted smile accompanied by a bubbly chuckle. "Thanks. You smell nice too."

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his curving lips push them up. As expected, Rosy chimes in between you and Ben almost too quickly, the blurry speed in which she has arrived in making you gasp. "Excuse me, babe. You got interviewers on your tail and I- oh," her brows shoot up upon seeing you, seemingly haughty eyes flicking up and down your outfit in mild contempt.

"Surprised to see you here as well." The smile plastered on her face couldn't be any more forced than it is.

Girl, chill. Anti-aging soaps are not easy to manufacture these days. You begin holding your breath to prevent yourself from bursting into a fit from hearing that thought ring in your head. You shrug, garnering the guts to shift on your heightened stance and lean in an inch close.

"You're not the only one with a celebrity date."

You turn around too early to gauge her reaction, finally exhaling from holding your breath too long. You can finally conclude that she's had an effortless transition from being benign to far from being benign. The smoothest one-eighty you've ever witnessed. You remember her clearly being downright considerate of you the first time you met her yet now is a whole different story. You wonder if she was actually ever considerate.

As the boys and Lucy indulge in brief interviews, you stand behind the scenes and get the first-class chance of conversing with Brian. He's readily the coolest person in the house right now, bantering with you every once in three, fascinating topics. How fortunate are you to be in the spot a million Queen fans would die for but of course, you don't want to leave out Roger who - by a landslide - makes you wish you could wheeze and snort all you want if you weren't in a luxury event such as the Oscars. He seemed intimidating for you at first but as he joined in your talk with Brian, things escalated real quickly.

With the pre-ceremony interviews and the clinking of champagne glasses dampening, you begin hunting for your seats in the theatre.

Before you know it, you are informed that only a specific line of people are given exclusivity for the seats. And it shocks you that Joe, Allen, Ben and Gwilym are not given that card when in fact they were part of the very film that brought forth a new generation of fans.You shake your head disappointingly albeit contented that Rami, Lucy, Brian and Roger and their wives are part of the exclusivity.

Utterly determined to know the results - by Joe's 'sovereign' vote - the rest of you hang around in the waiting area, focusing on the ceremony rights shown on TV. Quietly sitting through the results, you all whoop and applaud at the mention of Bohemian Rhapsody obtaining three awards straight– your cheers amping up a notch as Rami brings home the 'Best Actor' award. Joe begins filming your reactions for Instagram, zooming into Gwilym, Ben and Allen's faces for most of the video. You throw your head back in laughter at how goofy the boys look; a bunch of men in their 30's bouncing up and down with one of them documenting the entire episode. At one point, Gwilym yanks as you in for a group hug, mercilessly crushing you in between their muscles– the disorienting experience now being something you wish you would never undergo again.

As Rami's thank you speech unfolds, you pay attention closely. The sentimentality of him lovingly thanking Lucy for being his anchor after dedicating his award to Freddie Mercury is just overwhelming and you wish you could tear up but your mascara would be waste. You're certain that made Brian and Roger emotional as well.

An hour after the ceremony, you all head down to the Vanity Fair after party in the same limo you had arrived in with every single person in the group eager to get the night progressing. Regardless of saying that these type of parties are not up to your speed, you try to get along with the evening and revel in what you know would be your last night with them. Sadly enough, Roger and Brian had to skip out on this with rough schedules on their hands. The moment they walked out of the place, they spent nearly half an hour congratulating the boys and having other celebrities congratulate them.

As you are seated across Ben and Rosy, you can't help but notice him acting a little distant from her. She's all nuzzled up against his arm and he is nowhere close to returning the favor. He's just...lost in thought, staring out the tinted window. It's still early to assume that in all the hours you were within a close range to them, Ben only ever acted aloof, giving her attention when the situation required it.

Perhaps a lover's tiff took place?

"Yeah, I'm wondering the same thing too." Mimicking your position, Joe calling you back to Earth makes you gasp a little. You close your eyes and look at your fingers blankly after recovering, sighing. "I think we should end all this pretending. It was simply a cop-out in the first place."

"I know," he whispers audibly enough for only you to hear, running his fingers through his fiery, red hair, "you should probably come clean soon enough before you leave."

And that you will. At least, you'll try.

In your defense, you thought the after party would host a fancy banquet but seated around with celebratory drinks -considerable with something classy - and attendees breaking down on the dance floor is a rather okay scene as well. As long as you don't end up like the night you were invited out for a drink with your colleagues, you should be fine for the most part.

The boys and Lucy have fully immersed themselves in the beat of the music while you've decided to remain stationary with one glass of wine, the only glass you'll be having for the rest of the party.

The entire time you gawk at them amusingly as they break out their dance moves, your eyes always find their way to Ben, who makes you snort painfully from all his antics as he moves along with Joe. They're a mess with their ties and buttons undone from all the movement and the sight inspires you to stay put.

But oh dear lord, can Ben dance like an uncle.

Keeping your attention on them, a descending weight sinks down next to you. You pay no mind to whoever it is but do as her voice interrupts your thoughts. "I hope your eye is on the right person, honey." You click your tongue in exasperation, turning your body towards Rosy and her developing, bitchy tendencies, scoffing as you place your drink down to set things straight with her. "First of all, what did I ever do to you to deserve this kind of talk?"

She smacks her lips together at you, simpering. "You didn't think I'd notice?"

"What are you talking about?"

Her almond eyes narrow as if she's trying pin you down with a warning. "Please, don't act like I never noticed. You're overstepping that boundary between you and your best friend- my fiance." Okay, so she's noticed. But your neutralized expression is not going to be giving away anything.

You incline your head to one side in hopes that the facade you're pulling would decompress her suspicion. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Ben is like my brother. "

Grabbing her drink from the table, she sighs and stands up, hands firm on her hips and face silhouetted under the beaming light nevertheless giving you a transpiercing glower in the manner of seeing through the makeshift barrier you've pulled up. "He better be. Try backing off every once in a while when I'm around."

To your dismay, you snap inside, whipping your head up at her and replying sharply to make the message crystal clear. "Rosy, you have no idea." Unable to withstand the atmosphere you're in, you put great emphasis on your words and snatch your drink, walking out to the mini garden to finish what's left of your wine without having to bear being around her.

The question is unadulterated and obvious– bold and italicized if you wish to give it a stretch and clarify it.

Why is Ben still with her?

Is he that clueless not to realize it?

You don't want to pry the answer out yourself but ruminating on it, Rosy pulling off a full one-eighty only when Ben's at an appropriate distance for her to squeeze you between her fingers is just about good as a reason as anything. Your unwavering feelings for Ben are clearly perceived by her– from the way you had reacted the day he introduced you both to each other to not so long ago.

You wonder if Ben ever took heed of her growing attitude towards you.

Finishing your wine in one, immediate, swig, you place it down on the marble surface before you with your fingers cradling the stem of the glass– relishing the spicy liquid flushing down your throat.

At the extent of overexerting themselves, Joe and Gwilym flop down back on their seats like jelly, tuckered out from the unconventional combination of alcohol and unsteady movement. Panting like a dog who had just participated in a marathon, Joe shrugs out of his blazer and tosses it over his shoulder, silently wishing the ice in the bucket that held the bottle of wine would save him from the grinding heat of the wine he had just about five minutes ago.

"Mate, you're deep in the heat." Gwilym comments as it is followed by a gentle laugh on how Joe's glistening in sweat under the dimming lights. He hands him a partially bland look before wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. Lucy and Rami are situated at other end of the place enjoying a chat with another party of people meanwhile Ben and Rosy are nowhere near any of them. Until, of course, they reappear from God knows where and Ben suddenly asks Joe where you've gone.

"I-I don't know." He says after a hefty sigh. Somewhat eager to find you, Ben begins excusing himself from Rosy whom which he has spiked a bitter reaction from for sharing his supposed time for her with you. Fed up and jealous in the slightest, Rosy snaps at him.

"Okay Ben, why do you always have to skip in between minutes to hang out with her even when we're together?"

He pauses from turning around completely and sighs. "She's my friend, babe."

Unwilling to accept his statement, she claims. "Well your friend is getting in the way of what was supposed to be our time together! Can't you set aside a limited time for her?! " This has alarmed Joe and Gwilym but it isn't their business to butt in and stop a quarrel from breaking out. Unless it turns physical, which is doubtful to happen. Ben, a little frustrated but still tolerant of her ongoing skittish behavior, tries to reassure her. "I know that, alright? But something's been bothering her for days and I just want to make sure she's doing alright."

"Can't you leave the worrying to Joe? He's her bloody boyfriend anyway!"

Wagging his forefinger at Rosy, Joe grumbles as he is not having any of her talk, scrunching his brows at her.

Grabbing her shoulders gently, Ben tries to relieve her of tension and assures her once more, but with a well-known fact she obviously still doesn't accept. "Joe's a little drunk. She's like...a sister to me," it really took him an abrupt pause to say 'sister', "besides, you're my fiancee. There's nothing to be jealous about."

"Why does she still have to be a part of your life? Our life?" Now that's a question that has just shifted Ben to a farther side. His brows knit together in momentary disbelief, unable to take her words in a good light. "God, Rosy! She's been around for so long! At least make an effort to accept her!" Like a slap to her conceitedness, Ben turns on his heels and walks out to find you. Leaving Rosy a steaming mess of insecurity.

However slightly drunk, Joe mutters to himself as he makes sure neither Gwilym or especially Rosy hears his words stumble out in a whisper. "You've grown a pair, Ben. You've grown a pair."

You've been outside for nearly half an hour; wine glass empty and your hair, along with the skirt of your dress, drifting along the harmless breeze and the waning moon spilling some light from behind the shaded clouds. Though there were a couple of people that found their way here to get some respite not too long ago, you're just glad to have this space to breathe in from the draining background of the party.

As you lose yourself in thought, a certain voice brings you back to reality.

"Nice night out, huh?"

Turning around slowly, you are met with the cool, forest green irises that you've grown to never tire of seeing. "I'm surprised you're still well-kept in that suit despite the scene back in there. " You give in to a chuckle, your smile pulling Ben to approach your side leisurely. "It's my Oscars suit. Something worthy of protecting."

"Hah!"

As he rests his elbows on the surface next to you, the distance between your skins makes you a tad bit anxious. Comfortable silence falls upon you both– for Ben at least, it's tolerable however you're not taking it well, not even in the slightest. You rub your hands together and sigh, prompting Ben to finally ask you.

"You alright? You've been tensing up lately."

You nod, closing your eyes and opening them afterwards. "This dress is just depleting me of bodily warmth." Half a lie told by you. Acting on his thoughts, Ben begins taking his blazer off but you stop him mid-shrug. "Keep it on. You look better with it on."

"This would look better on you, you're obviously freezing." He's really keen on keeping you warm but you're just as so in letting him keep it on. "I'm serious. Keep it on. I'm fine."

What can he do but just give in? When you're serious, you're serious. He lifts his shoulder in half a shrug, ducking his head as an idea flickers in his head like a bulb. He wants to relive something that has been lost through the years and it's only right that he does...now that you have less than a day to disappear from his life completely.

"Y/N..." He muses gently. You raise your brows at him in question, taken by surprise that he has his hand held out to you. Bewildered, you raise your finger to ask what on Earth he's doing. "What- what are you doing?"

He licks his bottom lip and the smile on his face becomes bashful but certain. "What else does it look like I'm doing, silly girl? Asking you to dance."

You're sorry that you couldn't keep a snort at bay. "Pfft. Ben, I think you're asking the wrong girl."

"Just let me dance with my best friend."

"Wow! That's noble of you," your chuckles can not be contained, even so much as restraining yourself from letting the blush spread throughout your face. But he has the fragments of what was once your heart, so why wouldn't you? You slip your hand in his and the grin on his face widens. "There we go. Easy does it." He breathes out, his voice getting gravelly. You hit him softly on his chest for cooing, at the same time realizing that his voice becomes that way only and only when he's nervous– something uncommon between you both. As his hands find home on your waist, you throw your arms around his neck, laughing at how awkward yet funny it feels. What a huge nod to how you danced with him on Homecoming.

"You're so weird sometimes. You got your fiancee, why don't you dance with her?" Getting used to the sting of referring to Rosy, you question anyway. He initiates with a sway before responding. "I already have. But, " he diverts his heavy-lidded eyes from staring off the distance to yours and suddenly, it feels like you're home, "I want to finish that Homecoming dance."

You find yourself speechless as you shift your unflinching gaze at him and he at you, your bodies swaying along the concrete and in perfect sync, coincidentally to the sudden change in music from inside, compared to the bittersweet night you had before the day that parted you both. Thin silence hangs in the atmosphere but only because you are looking at each other in a way you never have in your entire lives.

Instinctively, you break your gaze from his and rest your head on his chest, your hair falling into your face as your eyes screw shut. You hear his heart skip a beat, unusually in the same manner yours always has. Feeling your head follow the rise and fall of his chest tickles you inside– temporarily making you forget about the pain of soon letting him go and producing a sense of safety.

Maybe it's because of exhaustion? You wonder. He doesn't hesitate to stroke your hair and revel in the moment as well, easing you in closer to his body without breaking the sway. "You'll be there on my wedding day, right?" He asks nervously, his question pulling you back to the harshest reality.

You open your eyes slowly, your lips trembling as you let out the saddest sigh, feeling your chest tighten from the anxiety of soon telling him the truth.

"Y/N?" Your tensed-up body alarms him and so he breaks away and lifts your chin up lightly, being met with glossy and regretful eyes. His messy brows drawing together in slight worry. "What's wrong?"

Everything.

However uneager to push him away, you do, escaping his warm embrace. "Ben, I..."

He's dreading for your answer, painfully anticipating for the best or the worst to the point where his hands are lubricating with sweat.

You swallow the lump that has hardened in the back of your throat, pressing your lips together to prevent a sob from escaping and shunning his prying stare. "I can't..."

Joe's half-assed predicted, worst case scenario is slowly unfolding.

"What are you saying? You're not- you're not going...to be there?"

You bite down on your lip hard enough to make it swell, shaking your head and casting a sideways glance.

"Why?"

Tell the truth. Just tell him and you're either getting a support or another jab to the heart.

"Y/N, please! Tell me why!"

"I'm leaving, Ben!" The words didn't seem to stumble or carelessly flop from your lips, in fact it speared through him clean thereby catching him off guard. His eyes have fallen gravely, lips parted due to shock.

"I got into a medical school I had previously applied for. And I'm leaving," you snap your eyes shut and open them in tears once you've looked up at him, "on your wedding day."

"Why didn't- why didn't you ever tell me?" He's pleading for your explanation, barely clinging on to the belief that you would always tell him things.

You don't answer as you are battling to muster up the courage to say it.

"Y/N, please! You never tell me anything these days! And this- this news, it's important! You're leaving on the day I need you the most, and you never bothered to squeak a word about it! Not a single, bloody word! Why?!" He's racked up with disbelief and apparently, anger. Eyes rimmed, clouded with mixed emotions and face full-blown red from the pressure.

He grabs you by the shoulders and pleads heartbreakingly, his lively voice reduced to but a whisper. "Why..."

"I-" You're still holding back.

"Say it! "

"You'd soon forget about me, Ben!" You inhale sharply as you add, croaks present in your voice while you take two steps further away from him as you lament. "I'm hopelessly in love with you, you idiot! I've always been. I try- I try to brush off every single prick that stems out every minute I realize that you already belong to someone else..."

"Y/N-"

"I figured not telling you would help me let go. And it's the only way I can...because screw you for being a clueless, irreplaceable bloke! I can't imagine my bloody life without you in it! I don't think I can ever love anybody else...but you, "

"Y/N..."

You don't let him finish and achingly throw your hands to your chest as a gesture, pounding your chest thrice as you're finally wearing your heart on your sleeve. "I can't blame you for being oblivious to my feelings. You're committed to Rosy...and as much as I want to see you happy, I don't want to stand idly by and- and feel this way when you've pledged your heart to her...I want to forget and for you to forget me," As the warm tears you've held back for so long roll down your cheeks, you hug yourself through the pain, "I want you to be happy without worrying how I'd feel. And disappearing from your life, is the only way I know how..."

"Y/N, please, don't say that- don't do this...you can't do this...you c-can't..." With hands shaking, he strides towards you to haul you in back into his arms but you take an agonizing step away, stopping him in his tracks. "I have to. I...I want to. It hurts so much, Ben. It always has but promise me," even if you have taken a step away, you take it upon yourself to take those steps close to him and cup his cheek with a cold hand, "promise me you'll revel in that happiness. It's going to hurt being away from you. But it's going to hurt even more if I stay. And watch...my best friend grow old with someone else." Finally rendering him wordless, you shake your head and whisk past him back into the party which has died down a bit, leaving him a pondering mess out under the bleak sky.

"How could I be happy without you..."

You'd gladly do anything to go back home right now. The weight of what just took place is crushing you and the need to escape is fuming. But the thing is, Ben was never one to let you go easy.

He never did and possibly never will.

He sniffles and inhales sharply, jogging in after you and calling out your name amidst the constant noise and chatters. "Y/N, wait!"

You reach your table just in time to see everyone still gathered around with drinks raised and laughs released but you have to excuse yourself deliberately. "Y/N? Where have you been? What's the rush?" Lucy notices your hastened movement and places her hand on your tense shoulder. You snap your head at her with your purse in your grasp, shaking your head and apologizing that you have to leave, forgetting to rid your eyes of tears; the sight of you amping up Lucy's concern therefore leading you into her embrace. "Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?"

"Y/N!"

Ben's distant but audible voice echoing through the place just sends you panicking inside. "I'm so sorry, Luce. I have to go."

"Y/N, wait! What's wrong?"

Just as the rest could react to Lucy calling out for you and Ben dashing past them to catch up, you've already disappeared into the crowd, headed out the theatre to take a cab ride back to the hotel. Relentless to let you go, Ben follows your trail, spurring a quick frenzy from the rest and having them pursue Ben in return. Once you reach the outskirts of the pavements, you don't think twice before crossing the highway with your focus hardened before you.

Gasping for air upon exiting the theatre, Ben glances around in haste and finally spots you marching down the street oblivious to your surroundings despite treading along the pedestrian lane. His eyes widen in dread and acting on a fight or flight reaction, he yells for your attention as he speeds down the street to pull you in or rather save you from a possibility of getting hurt with all the rushing vehicles and careless drivers. "Y/N! Y/N!"

The boys, Lucy and Rosy arrive outside just in time to witness Ben race towards your direction and in a moment of feeling time slow down, you feel your heart in your throat at the late flash of nearing headlights, to add a heavy force propelling you off your feet and onto the other side of the road. What gets you up from the ground are the mixed screams of a familiar bunch and the sight of a bloodied man in white laying unconscious on the cold surface of the road.

White noise suddenly fills your ears instead of your own voice as you scream out his name.

[twistedsinews]

F, I, L, M, S, and W! (I didn't mean to form a word there, but whoops)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oof.  I… have no idea.

My first instinctive answer was this, from Fuzz:

“What are you doing and why must you be doing it in front of a fucking camera.”

“You really want to nail this bitch?” Gat leaned in closer, and Faith turned her head towards his breath where it tickled her ear. “Think about it… nothing destroys a career faster than evidence of a turgid, illicit romance.”

“Torrid,” she corrected, on reflex, as she half-leaned, half-pushed him back to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“Torrid romance.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I meant turgid.”

Faith blinked at him, then shook her head, weighed down by sheer incredulity.

“Right,” she said, meeting his expression with a tight, wry smile. “You’re a big boy; far be it from me to tell you whether you’re allowed to whip your dick around on primetime television.”

Mainly because it’s the type of wordplay I have a lot of fun with and am proud of when it works out.  Whether anyone else ever finds it funny is a question, but I get the impression at least some folks out there like my writing, so.

I’m also inanely proud of the fact I got the “You’re under arrest for everything,” thing into a fic here, and I don’t know if proud is the word but I have a lot of fun any time I get to write drunken shenanigans like here.

OH!

This:

He dropped the board flat on the floor, and the pointy thing on top of it.  It danced and spun back and forth.

“Yeah, yeah, can you get me in touch with the guy upstairs?”

W-R-O-N-G-N-U-M-B-E-R

“Fine, then can you ring big red for me?”

T-H-A-T-L-I-N-E-H-A-S-B-E-E-N-D-I-S-C-O-N-N-E-C-T-E-D

“So it’s just you and me?”

YES

“Got any good advice on how to deal with women?”

NO

“Figures.”

was a literal last minute addition under the Yuletide deadline that made me really happy that it popped into my head when it did, because the visual was picture perfect and made me laugh.  And considering the weight of the rest of the fic, it was a nice light little capstone to it, too.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

*snrk*

All of the tropes listed below?

Idk.

*think*

I guess maybe romance stuff.  I always felt really exposed as a kid liking romance stuff, so for a very long time I either suppressed it or pretended I didn’t, I guess.  I definitely read for the fluffy mushy feelings, but it’s still hard to admit that out loud.  (And then there’s the feeling that the specific type of romance stuff I like is somehow SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT ME AS A PERSON, which… nah.  But y'know.  There’s a reason I still can’t write teh lemons.)

Also, I mean, I’ve caught hell for writing fic instead of filing the serial numbers off and monetizing like a sane American should, so fic in general can be a pretty guilty pleasure thing even though it shouldn’t be.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

… … …I’m one of those people who revises on the fly while writing.  :P

I have a difficult time reading my own writing, but it’s better than it used to be.  These days I can manage a spelling, homophones, and redundancy check after I finish.

Perfectionism is dumb.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

…I have a lot, and I’ve probably forgotten some.  

For SR, I have four prompts left from like five years ago, all of them for Halloween and I should probably get on them right fucking now so I don’t miss it again this year.

I have a bunch of pre-Boss Saints one-offs with Gat, Dex, Lin, and Aisha (and occasionally Julius and Troy.)

I have a few longer ideas that I keep putting off, because I suck at writing longform.  One involves Faith’s stint in prison between SR2 and SR3 that lands the Saints under Ultor’s corporate branding.  Another is the Faith backstory fic involving a murder cult trying to avert the end of the world.

More road trip fic in general, on that latter topic.

I have a ‘Saints go to Japan [for contrived probably Ultor reasons]’ idea mostly just get them squaring off with one of Shogo’s cousins.  I have something involving the Samedi and how utterly fucked up a person can get on Loa Dust… I had a Zinyak’s Red Door idea, I don’t know if I wrote down enough of it to remember where I was going with it…

I really want to write more Oleg sometime.

See also: Asha.

I want to write a SR movie script before the actual movie comes out, for the lulz.  I had the core idea a good few years back now, I just haven’t gotten to it.

…and, yeah.  My SR folder has like 3 times as many files as the rest of my fic folders combined, send help.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Us against the world.

Our heroes either failing or otherwise coming within an inch of completely losing everything up to and including their lives before pulling it together for one last push to make it through.

Hurt/comfort.

Presumed dead.

A wide variety of romance tropes, including but not limited to: battle couples, UST, bickering to hide feelings, light-hearted teasing, heavy emotional defenses that only fully come down in private, heart-eyes in general… etc, etc.

Characters being coerced by the enemy in some way, especially if they have to do things against their grain or fight their friends or something for highest angst value.  Good people from the bad guy’s side switching sides.

Huddling for warmth.

All of the love triangles resolving to OT3s.  All the OT3s in general, actually.

…I know I’m forgetting some, I like a lot of tropes.  XD

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I tend to like more general prompts, because the way ideas spark in my brain I don’t like to feel like someone really wants to see something specific ‘cause I’m just… gonna let 'em down somehow.

Even with general prompts, I sometimes get the feeling that I’m going off prompt, even though whenever I’m writing to a prompt is because the idea came from the prompt in the first place.

It’s my brain, I don’t know how it works.  XD