#the vibes are ominous and beautiful

[asyayordanova]

[unidentified-refresher]

AUGH thank you so much?!??? You're a huge inspiration to me too I'll WEEP wtf??!? 💖💕

Another artfight - Darth Zhecra for the amazing showstopping incredible @anonymousbathtub who's art never fails to drag me back to enjoying star wars

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 8

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 7 | Series Masterlist | Part 9

Chapter Summary: You talk with some of Bucky's friends and witness what happens to someone who disrespects you.

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.2k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, violence (not against reader), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn’t respond to the comment and did your best to ignore the stares from the others. Intrigue filled their eyes and you suddenly felt as if they placed you under a microscope. Being the center of Bucky’s attention was smothering, but the weight of their gazes settled so hard in your chest that you worried you wouldn’t breathe properly again.

You looked around in the hopes it would distract you. A nice office, just as you expected. A high ceiling like his penthouse, but with carpet instead of a marble floor. The dark, expensive desk and furniture added to the vibe, powerful and ominous. A bookshelf along one wall lined with books reminded you that Bucky really liked to read. You also wondered who painted the lone piece of art that hung above his desk. A black dahlia, symbolic of sadness or betrayal.

Why that flower?

The wall to your left pushed that thought away. Monitors took up the top half and displayed various parts of the club. You weren’t sure why it took you by surprise, especially since he mentioned seeing you in the VIP section. The man was a control freak. At the same time, the club belonged to him and he certainly wouldn’t be the first business owner to have eyes and ears everywhere around his place.

“Quick introduction before we get into specifics,” Bucky said, nodding around the room. “Thor Odinson, Nick Fowler, Sam Wilson, and Steve Rogers.”

A large blonde with long hair clapped his hands together. “Finally! The future Queen of The 107th! And a beautiful one at that. It’s a pleasure.” Your eyes widened as he stood, his stature as booming as his voice before he bowed. He actually bowed to you. “Are the rest of you not standing? Fowler, Wilson, on your feet with Rogers. This is not just a woman, this is Barnes’s woman. Show her some respect.”

“I swear, you aren’t from this world,” a brunette in a sharp black suit mumbled, but got to his feet along with the others. The unexpected gesture stunned you into silence. “We were starting to wonder if you stood us up.”

“Took a bit of convincing to get her here, Nick,” Bucky explained, making you bite your tongue when he kissed your temple. “She wanted a quiet night.”

The handsome man had a menacing glint in his brilliant blue eyes. “And how exactly did you convince her?”

“You know, you can all sit back down,” you cut in. “There’s no reason to stand just because I’m here,” you added, though you appreciated Thor’s genuine enthusiasm. It was kind of endearing.

“Nonsense. You’re all he speaks of, so you are a Queen in our eyes,” Thor said.

“Future Queen does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I can buy you a tiara,” Bucky smiled. The men chuckled in unison, with the exception of Ray.

Hyenas.

Whatever expression you had on your face made Bucky frown. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to scream how you weren’t okay at all and how terrifying the entire situation was, but Bucky took your hand before you could answer and kissed your fingers. It somehow soothed a bit of the nerves, which wasn’t fair since he was the one who tangled you in this web in the first place. “Just not used to so much attention,” you admitted.

“Let’s sit,” Bucky suggested, leading you to the remaining empty sofa. Instead of giving you space, he kept you at his side once you both sat. Was it a display of ownership in front of everyone or did he just want you right beside him? “Ray, bring her some water.”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage and the gentleness of Bucky’s hand on your cheek startled you. It was different on the club floor. Even with his men teasing you, there were tons of others around. Here in the office, the spotlight was solely on you. All because Bucky wanted you. Otherwise, you’d be invisible.

“I’ll have you home soon,” Bucky whispered, grounding you with the reminder that you didn't have to stay all night. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Told you it was too soon to bring her here,” the dark-eyed gentleman beside Thor spoke, a mildly sympathetic look on his face. “But, no, you never listen to me.”

“And I told you where to shove your opinion, Sam,” Bucky snapped, thanking Ray in a softer tone when he placed a bottle in your hand. At least you knew it wasn’t drugged or tampered with since you had to open it yourself.

“So, Barnes tells us you work with flowers?” Thor questioned.

You nodded, not sure if it should bother you that he spoke about your job or impressed that his friends took the time to remember. “Yeah, I’m a florist. I enjoy it.”

“That is a lovely profession. He also mentioned you occasionally bring flowers to the local hospital at no charge,” Thor continued before the others gave him a look you couldn't decipher. “We do not see a lot of kindness like that around here.”

“Yeah, I sometimes…” you trailed off when you noticed Bucky’s jaw clench. It wasn’t something the two of you talked about during your date, but he clearly knew. You’d have to revisit this conversation later. “Bucky, why don't you tell me about your friends?” You suggested. Anything to take the focus off you.

Bucky blinked and gave you a smile after a moment. “Sure. Years ago, Steve decided to drag me to a veteran support meeting after we served, which is how I met Thor and Sam. They invest in real estate,” he explained. “Sam focuses more on the commercial end and Thor on homes.”

The military background didn't surprise you. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Respect. There was an unmistakable bond there.

“Wilson and I were just discussing our newest acquisitions before you walked in,” Thor said, tilting his glass toward you. “Barnes didn't tell us you lived in such a nice area.”

Your stomach tightened with nerves. “Excuse me?”

Sam looked like he was considering his words when Thor’s gaze flickered to him. “Bucky may have mentioned a property or two in that neighborhood that might be a good investment. He’s right.”

Your gaze jerked to the man holding you. His lips curled, knowing and unashamed. His promise to have you out of your home… “Is my apartment building one of those properties?”

Bucky shrugged. “It might be.”

Your heart gave a hard thud. If he was serious… If his friend bought the building… No, he couldn’t do that to you.

“Nick deals with investments, too, but he focuses more on businesses over real estate. We actually introduced him to Bucky,” Sam said, effortlessly shifting the conservation back to the group. He seemed nice, but how nice could he be if he was Bucky’s friend?

“It really is nice to see the future wife in person.” Nick gave you a quick once over, but there was no judgment, unlike that jerk at the bar. “I can see exactly why he broke into your place just to talk to you.”

Bucky rubbed your back when you coughed. Nick was almost as nonchalant about the situation as Bucky was. “So, everyone really is aware that he’s a stalker,” you said.

“He prefers to think of himself as passionate or intense.”

“Pay no attention to him,” Bucky advised.

Nick simply smirked. “I was giving her a compliment.”

“Jax and Hal have already hit on her and I don't need you bothering her, too.”

“I’m not bothering her. Maybe you're the one bothering her.”

“Please, you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here,” you interrupted. Wanting to be invisible was one thing, but you wouldn't be treated as such.

You shut your mouth when everyone looked your way, but relaxed when all the men laughed again. “I like you,” Nick said. That brought a small smile to your face. It wasn't like you wanted the people in Bucky's life to like you, but it was nice to see that others weren’t phased by his power.

Bucky shot him a look for a split second before the latter put his hands up. “I don’t like her that way. We all know she's your girl,” he promised before looking at you again. “But I do like your spirit. It's good for him.”

Bucky shifted his gaze back to you adoringly as you shrank back into the sofa. “Thanks,” you whispered.

“And since you’re here, I wanted to ask what you think I should get Brady and Addison for their upcoming wedding,” Nick smirked again, but it was much softer this time. “I asked Bucky, but he thought I should ask you since you're so close to them.”

A chill ran over you. How did… “Nick,” you whispered, recalling your earlier conversation with Addison. “You’re Brady’s new boss, aren't you?”

“Smart girl.” he smiled, impressed. “I’m a boss of sorts. He’s a hard worker. Loves his fiancé. I hope they're enjoying their dinner.”

“Check their registry. Everything they want is there,” you said as evenly as you could manage, wishing you had the strength to bolt from the room.

You swallowed back the urge to get sick as Bucky rubbed your side. This wasn't just meeting his friends. This was a not-so-subtle way to tell you that you weren't getting away from him. And how could you? There was a chance that Sam bought your building. Nick had a way to get to people you cared about. And Steve showed up at your job, one of your only safe-havens. What was next?

It would've been easy to feel hollow to it all as Bucky wove himself into your life. Was it just control he sought? Or did he want to be in as much of life as possible so you couldn't forget him if you tried? No matter where you went, where you looked, who you saw, it would now trace back to him. Like he wanted everything to begin and end with him.

You looked toward Ray, but he looked at the floor. Sighing, you shook her head. You were all alone. “So, Bucky knows how to get into my home and pretty much knows everywhere I go. Sam or Thor might be buying the building I live in. Nick is working with someone close to me. And Steve… clearly knows where I work. Am I missing anything? Is this totally normal behavior for all of you?”

You could still see the intrigue in their eyes at your clipped tone. “You seem unhappy by that, but it is a dangerous world out there and you are a guarded treasure who needs to be looked after,” Thor spoke, looking to the others for support. “All of our women are.”

Nick nodded after a moment. “Varying degrees with our approaches, but yes. It’s dangerous out there.”

You huffed. Did they think they were the good guys? Were their significant others like you? Trapped? “It’s dangerous here, too.”

“You’re not in any danger with us.” Bucky turned your head toward him. “But Thor's right. You are my treasure, Kotyonok. I found you and I’m not letting you go.”

A possession. Something to covet. “You could’ve just left me buried in the sand or at the bottom of the ocean,” you whispered, ignoring the hurt in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for you to dig me up.”

“This is all overwhelming. I know it is,” Bucky whispered back, like the others weren’t listening. “If you’re upset that Steve went into your shop or for anything else, you can blame me.”

Of course that was the thing he commented on. “Oh, don’t worry. I do blame you.”

The men laughed again as he ran a finger along your neck. “Another thing I’ll make up to you.”

You huffed again. “And how will you do that? Jerk off while I’m on the phone with you? Because you already did that earlier.”

Bucky smirked at your sass when Sam coughed and said, “Steve, you’re being awfully quiet over there.” You almost forgot he was there since he hadn't said much else since you walked in.

“Who cares about Steve?” Nick grinned as he sipped his drink. “Let’s hear more about that phone call.”

“Just observing, Sam.” Steve cut in and crossed his arms as his gaze swept over the group. “And don’t be rude, Nick.”

“Is it rude if I also want to hear about the phone call?” Thor asked.

Heat flowed to your cheeks and you wished you just kept your mouth shut. “Please, forget I said that,” you begged. Because now that you mentioned it, it would play on a loop again in your mind.

Bucky said low enough for only you to hear, “Next time I get off, I want you right there with me.” The heat in your veins turned to molten lava. “But since you want to change the subject, Steve has been my best friend since we were kids and now he helps out around the club and with other endeavors,” he introduced, a hint of pride and fondness that wasn't fully extended to the other men. “I think you two are going to get along very well.”

“I think so, too.” Steve smiled and you did your best to return it, but it fell flat as you remembered the flowers at Bucky's penthouse. “Thank you for making my best friend happy. That’s all I want for him.”

“Thanks,” you said. That was all you wanted for your best friend, so you understood to an extent. “Did your girl enjoy the tulips or did you make that whole thing up?”

You weren't exactly sure what Bucky told him to do when he went into the shop, or what he told any of the men to do for that matter. Spying, keeping tabs, it was just a reminder of the eyes and ears your pseudo-boyfriend had around the city. Your brain begged you to get out of there, but you couldn't move.

“She really does love tulips and was very happy with them,” he assured you. “So I should thank you again for making her happy, too.”

You shouldn't dig the knife in after he complimented you, but you couldn't help yourself. “And are you like Bucky and stalking her, too?”

A hint of pink showed in the blonde’s cheeks when Bucky and Nick chuckled, but he gave you a lopsided grin and didn't seem at all offended. “I've actually done a little bit more than that,” he said, your heart dropping as he looked at Bucky. What did he mean? “Did you get a chance to introduce her?”

Bucky shook his head as Steve’s face fell. “Didn't stop at coat check,” he answered before he added, “His girl works here part-time, but I thought it would be better for you two to officially meet when we go on a double date.”

“A double date?” You asked.

“Yeah, the four of us. Steve and I already have a few ideas on where to go.” Another thing that wasn’t a suggestion. Wouldn’t be a choice. Did Steve’s poor girl have any idea?

“What does coat check girl’s boyfriend think about the double dates?” Nick said, typing out something on his phone.

Steve's smile slipped. “Soon-to-be ex and she has a name.”

“That's right, I forgot. You're going to ‘handle him’,” he said, your body tensing at the implication.

“I'm sorry. Didn't you break your future brother-in-law's arm?”

“I almost broke both arms,” he shrugged when you gawked at him. “My girl’s a best-selling author, but her brother is a piece of shit.”

Thor downed the rest of his drink. “That reminds me of the time I broke my father-in-law's fingers. My brother advised against it, but…”

The voices blended together as you took a sip of the water. You weren't a violent person, didn’t speak casually of violence the way they did, but the urge to hit or throw something became stronger with each passing second. All things considered, you were extremely patient with everything. How much more could you take?

“I want to go home, please,” you told Bucky. You had to get out of there. “I mean it. I met your friends and-”

The room went silent as someone knocked on the door. No one made a move, except for Ray and Steve who both reached for something in their jackets. “Expecting someone, boss?” Ray asked.

“Actually, I am.” Bucky checked his watch. “Should be Ari and a guest.”

“What guest? Not Ransom,” Steve said, his body still tense.

“And not Andy or Scott. They’re out of town,” Nick added.

Bucky’s wolfish smile was back on his face. “You’ll see.”

The doors opened and in walked the man who insulted you at the bar, looking around like he owned the place. Ari followed with a glare that had you shrinking into the sofa again. The night was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

“John?” Sam didn't look impressed. “Really?”

Bucky stood up to shake the man’s hand and you suddenly missed his warmth. “John. Enjoying your evening?”

“Yeah. That shirtless bartender gave me drinks on the house.”

“I’m glad Hal took care of you.” You could smell the liquor coming from him the further he stepped into the room. “And I think you know just about everyone here.”

While the men had smiled and welcomed you, none of them extended the same courtesy to John. Steve and Sam looked like they wanted to punch him. Nick didn't even glance up from his phone to acknowledge him. Thor simply got himself another drink.

“I do.” John hiccuped. “‘Bout time you invited me up here.”

“Yeah, I guess it is about time.” The look on Bucky’s face gave you chills as he grabbed John’s arm and stopped him from sitting down. “Oh, no. You don’t need to sit. You won't be here long.”

“Is that right?”

“That is right.” The grip on John’s arm tightened enough to make him wince. “You see, I told Hal to give you free drinks until Ari came to get you. And the only reason I had you brought up here was so you could officially meet my girl before I have you kicked out.”

“Kick me out?! What the fuck are…” John had a noticeable twinge in his cheek as he spotted you. You wanted to cover yourself up even though you weren’t exposed. “That's your girl?”

“She’s my everything.” Bucky briefly looked away from John to gaze at you. “And from what I understand, you knocked her out of the way at the bar and made a rude comment. I’d like to know exactly what you said to her.”

Nick glanced up from his phone, more interested in the conversation now. All of the men were. That wasn't good. Not at all.

“Look, I may have bumped into her, but I don’t…” John cleared his throat as Bucky stared at him, underlying rage in his eyes. “I don’t recall mouthing off to her or anything.”

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said. You told him that earlier. What was he doing?

“Kotyonok, do you remember what he said to you since John’s memory is so terrible?” Bucky asked, his gaze still fixed on the man in front of him who was starting to sweat. “It’s okay. You can tell us.”

The others stared at you expectantly. You shifted, not wanting to blurt out exactly what the guy said. Lying wouldn’t make it any better though. Bucky clearly knew what happened.

“See? Nothing happened,” John tried to dismiss you when you stayed silent. “How about a drink?”

Bucky pursed his lips in disdain. “How about I have Ari beat the words out of you instead?”

You gasped when Ari pushed himself off the wall, fear all over John’s face as he advanced. He looked like he was going to piss himself. “He called me an ugly undressed bitch,” you said loud enough to make Ari stop.

Something in the room shifted, the silence extended and uncomfortable as the men rose to their feet one by one. Thor made a show of cracking his knuckles after he winked at you. You had nothing to fear. They didn't want to hurt you. So why were you still trembling?

Steve slipped his jacket off and strode forward until he was beside his best friend. “You said that to her?”

John bravely or stupidly attempted to deflect. “The music is loud and-”

“You better shut your fucking mouth if you even think of calling her a liar. Not that I need anyone else’s word except for hers, but Hal also heard you. Even told you to apologize, which you chose to ignore. I can pull up the camera if you want to see the footage.” Bucky’s even tone had you trembling in your spot just like John. “You really have the nerve to come into my club and speak to my girl like that?”

John scrambled for words as he pointed at you. “I didn't… I mean, look at what she’s wearing! How was I supposed to know?”

“That should've been your first clue that she was special. Everyone else down there has to abide by a dress code, but not her. That’s how much power she has. And you tried to make her feel bad for that?” Bucky held a hand up when Ari stepped forward again. “No. I won't let that stand.”

“Bucky.” John swallowed when the rest of the men shifted to surround him. The only exception was Ray, who stood closest to you. “I…”

“Apologize to her,” he snarled. “Get on your fucking knees and say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” John glanced at the floor. “Don't make me get on my knees.”

“That’s enough! I don't want his apology anyway,” you spoke up. An empty apology from a jackass was meaningless. “I appreciate that you want him to say sorry, but I’d rather he just leave if that's okay. Please.”

Bucky let out a slow breath. “My girl has a kind heart.” He briefly took his eyes off John to offer you a soft smile before turning his attention back to him. “But I don't. You’re banned from my club. And by the end of the day tomorrow, you’ll be banned from just about everywhere in the city.”

John laughed, a broken, nervous sound. “This is a joke, right?”

Bucky cracked his neck. “I’ve never liked you. None of us do. We tolerated you, but I won't tolerate you insulting my girl.” He signaled for Ari to open the doors. “So you have two options. You can leave on your own and be permanently banned from this establishment. Or I can make you leave and you’ll be permanently banned from this establishment. Your choice.”

“You can't ban me for one comment! That's insane!”

“I consider it harassment,” Bucky corrected him. Ironic coming from him since he invaded your life. “I take it I'll have to make you leave?”

“You know what? Fuck you. This club sucks anyway.” John moved toward the door before he stopped to look back at you. “And you think you’re special since you're up here? You’re just an uptight bitch who-”

Bucky’s fist connected with John’s jaw before he could finish his insult and you could only shriek as he hit the wall and crumbled to the floor a heartbeat later. Steve hauled him to his feet by his collar before he could recover and punched him in the stomach hard enough that you flinched. Ray shielded your body as best as he could as everyone took turns punching him.

“Don't look,” he whispered.

“I don't know if I can do this,” you whispered back. You were trying to stay calm, but this…

“Yes, you can. Just breathe. In and out,” Ray urged. His face didn't give much away, but you sensed his relief when you took a few deep breaths. “There you go. And don't look.”

You didn't look. It still didn’t block out the sounds, fists connecting against skin and bones, and John’s pained groans. Nor did it stop you from shaking. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime until the room went quiet again. Was it over?

“What did you guys do to him?!” You asked, loosening your hold on Ray’s arm. When did you grab him?

“We taught him a lesson.” Bucky flexed his fingers with a sigh. “I have an abundance of patience for you, it's less so with people who are disrespectful and vulgar with you.”

Ray still shielded you when you tried to look where John lay in a heap, but was careful not to touch you. “...Is he breathing?”

“He is and he's lucky for that,” Bucky replied, nudging him with his foot. “Looking strong, John.”

“About time we shut him up,” Nick said, plopping back down in his seat. “Should've banned him months ago.”

“No one deserves a beating more than John,” Steve said, gazing at you like a big brother who just beat up a schoolyard bully for picking on you. “And don't worry. He won’t speak to you like that again.”

“He won’t be speaking much at all after that,” Sam said, taking a drink from Thor’s outstretched hand. “No big loss there.”

“Ari, would you mind taking out the trash?” Bucky asked, tilting his head as he looked down at John. “And can you get the cleaners up here to do something about the blood on my carpet?”

“On it.” Ari effortlessly picked John up and put him over his shoulder as you tried to process what you witnessed. You were past processing any of it, your brain nearly broken from the stress.

In fact, the only one phased by the violence was you as everyone went about their business again. It made your head spin. That was all from a guy insulting you. What would they do if someone actually tried to do anything to you?

Ray stepped aside when Bucky made his way back to you, the anger gone from his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I'm sorry if that scared you.”

“Of course, it scared me! You all beat the hell out of him,” you scolded. On instinct, you grabbed his hand to check it. You had no idea why you wanted to make sure his hand was okay after everything. “None of you had to do that.”

“We don't like bullies,” Steve said as Bucky let you inspect his hand, your fingers gently brushing over his knuckles. “It was bad enough what he said, but he knocked you out the way, too, and didn't apologize. He deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did,” Bucky agreed, taking the opportunity to grip your hand before you could let him go.

“That was a bit much,” you said. It was overkill in your eyes. “I'm not worth beating someone up over.”

He met your gaze with a smile. “You’re worth more than I can ever give you. And he won't be bothering anyone in this club ever again.”

“You're really going to ban him?”

“Absolutely. I have a reputation to uphold. He's only going to mess that up if I let him stick around.”

“Ari isn't going to…” You weren’t sure what he would do to John since they were out of sight.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing.” Bucky moved his hand to your cheek. “I only wish I could hit him again for how he spoke about you.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth. Defending you that way was a lot, but a morbid part of you liked that he stood up for you. “Thank you, but no more hitting people in my name. I can't stand it if someone else was hurt because of me.”

“His actions got him hurt because he hurt you first. I know he did. And I said I’d step in if someone hurt or upset you.” His gaze dropped to your mouth when you bit your lip again. The insult did bother you, but it didn’t matter now. “You really do have a kind heart and you’re making it very difficult not to kiss you right now,” he added, brushing his thumb over your lips.

Goosebumps rolled over your skin at the touch, but you stepped back before he could push his thumb into your mouth. He was still dangerous. Still taking over your life. That was enough to wake you from any spell he tried to put you under. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Just returning the favor.” He held up his hand again with a small smile. “You sure you don’t want to give it another look? A little kiss might make it feel better.”

You rolled your eyes. The man was utterly ridiculous. “I’m not kissing your hand, Bucky. We both know it’s fine.”

“One little kiss? Please?” He winced for show as he flexed his fingers again, but you wouldn't budge. “C’mon. You were worried about my hand enough to check it for damage.”

You shook your head. “I wasn't worried. I just wanted to make sure you didn't injure yourself because that would just be one more thing you’d hold over my head,” you deflected, glancing around to find everyone staring at you again with smiles on their faces at the exchange. “Thanks for defending me.”

“Nothing to thank us for,” Thor held his glass up to you.

Steve looked at the monitor that displayed the coat room. “We take care of our own.”

An alarm on Bucky’s phone went off before you could say anything else. “And look at that? It’s time to go.” The men groaned before he shut the alarm off. “I promised I’d have her home and I’m keeping that promise.”

Steve looked the most disappointed of all. “I barely got to talk to her,” he grumbled.

“Next time, okay? And the double date soon.” Bucky smiled at his friend.

“It was wonderful to meet you,” Thor said as Nick and Sam nodded in your direction. “And I hope to see you at my party next week. Everyone will be there.”

“Maybe,” you said, putting as much emphasis on the word as possible. How would you get out of that? And the double date?

“Okay, you’re all welcome to hang out, but we’re leaving,” Bucky said.

“Maybe I should find my own way home,” you said. Bucky didn’t just have his claws in you, his friends did, too. You needed a breather. Some wine. “I really don't mind getting a cab.”

“Not happening,” he whispered. It was worth a shot. “I need to make sure you get in bed safely.”

“In bed?” You repeated, almost laughing until you saw his serious expression. “You seriously don't expect me to invite you in, do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, steering you toward the door as Ray followed. “Besides, who else is going to tuck you in?”

Was tucking you in going to be enough to satisfy him tonight or would he take it further?

You’d find out soon enough.

Now we know what happened to John! What do we think of his friends? Will Bucky be good when he takes you home? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yoneda-emma]

PLEASE can u post more about your minecraft babel. i have to say it's a thing of terrible beauty

A while ago me and some friends had a server, and while building my base there I thought that it would be cool to build a storage system that has an individual chest for every single item. I also decided it would be really funny if the items were sorted alphabetically :3

This was how far I got on that server, built in survival, before people mostly lost interest in the server and I stopped playing. I filled in the storage system with item frames or placeholder signs for all items up to "blue bed", above I had a temporary storage system for the items not placed in their own chests yet (which consisted of five chests for each letter of the alphabet)

That was a few months ago, now I recently started a new survival world and decided that my big goal for that world *needs* to be to make the storage system of babel actually happen, ideally with a new design that's even better.

My next design, built in creative, looked like this, but I thought that having the room be this rectangular and fully filled with chests would make it look too industrial and efficient and would lose that very specific more mythological "library of babel" vibe I was going for.

And so today I came up with this design, which I'm currently very happy with. Nothing really done in survival yet because I wanna get fully enchanted tools first, and I'll probably also need some librarian villagers to get all the bookshelves more easily. Still considering replacing the item frames with either signs on the chests or with signs *next to the chests* marking groups of items, which would be less usable but might look cooler. The question that still remains is where to place everything - the first version on that server was just the basement of my base (which was this lighthouse, with a design for rotating lights I came up with myself :3)

I think this thing deserves to be its own thing seperate from my "main base" though, so currently I'm considering two main ideas - either just have it fully be a hole in the ground just like the second design, because I think that makes it feel suitably ominous:

Or to have it be an above ground cylinder and to find a nice way to dress it up as Yomikawa's House:

In that case you'd be looking up instead of down though, so I wouldn't be getting as much out of the glass floor, which would be a shame because I think that that is probably the coolest part of the build. I guess I could also just combine both ideas and build Yomikawa House over the hole and have it be closer to the original lighthouse? More updates coming soon maybe :3

[oaksgrove]

Lieutenant’s Sanctuary

pairing: Platonic Task Force 141 & Lieutenant!Reader, CallSign ‘Reaper’

synopsis: After years of tradition, the 141 team decides it’s time to crash at Lieutenant Reaper’s place for the first time. They’re expecting something practical and minimal, but instead, they find a storybook-like sanctuary.

warnings: Fluff, humor, found family vibes, and Soap being Soap.

word count: 1700

a/n: I’m such a sucker for Found Family and tiny cottages so this was so cute to write!

Every time Task Force 141 returned from deployment, they followed the same ritual: gather at someone’s place to decompress. It started as an impromptu thing—no one ready to face an empty flat just yet—and quickly became tradition.

Ghost’s apartment was Spartan: a single chair, a TV that looked like it had seen combat, and exactly one fork in the kitchen drawer. Soap’s place? Chaos incarnate, with mismatched furniture and a fridge stocked solely with beer, takeout boxes, and mystery condiments. Gaz’s flat was sleek and modern, but he was never there long enough to enjoy it. Price’s house was comfortably captainly, with sturdy furniture and the scent of pipe tobacco lingering like a welcome mat.

But no one had ever been to Reaper’s.

“You got a place, Reaper?” Soap asked, leaning against the Humvee after their latest mission. “Or d’you just materialize out of the shadows like a proper ghost?”

Reaper glanced up, her expression unreadable beneath the smudges of dirt and exhaustion. “I’ve got a place,” she replied simply, tossing her gear into the back of the vehicle.

“Really?” Soap pressed, grinning. “I thought you just slept hanging upside down somewhere…”

“It’s a house,” she replied, voice as flat as her expression. “And it’s off-limits.”

Soap didn’t relent. “So you do live in the shadows! Does it come with creepy fog and a drawbridge, or bats coming out of the chimney…?”

Reaper gave him a deathly glare through the rear mirror

“It’s a house,” she deadpanned. “And no bats.”

Soap wasn’t done. “How do we know you’re not just haunting an abandoned castle somewhere?”

“Because I’m not you,” she shot back smoothly.

The team laughed, but Soap was relentless. “So, when are we visiting this haunted manor of yours?”

Reaper sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine. One visit. But don’t touch anything.”

And with that ominous warning, the deal was sealed.

The drive to Reaper’s place was unnerving, to say the least. Pavement gave way to gravel, gravel turned to dirt, and dirt became a narrow trail flanked by looming trees. The deeper they went, the quieter it got.

“Are you sure you’re not leading us to a burial site?” Gaz asked, staring out the window at the oppressive forest.

Reaper didn’t answer, her silence only adding to the tension.

“Swear I saw this in a horror film once,” Soap muttered. “Five soldiers go into the woods, only one comes out.”

“I’ll keep the engine running,” Ghost said, his voice as dry as the leaves crunching under their tires.

When they finally pulled up, everyone stared in stunned silence. Nestled by a bubbling stream, the house was a picture-perfect storybook cottage. The small structure had ivy creeping up its stone walls, a pitched roof dusted with moss, and a chimney that puffed lazy spirals of smoke into the air. The garden surrounding it was meticulously cared for, with rows of herbs, vegetables, and vibrant flowers. Wind chimes tinkled softly in the breeze.

“Did we take a wrong turn?” Soap whispered. “This looks like something out of Sleeping Beauty.”

“Is this where you live,” Ghost asked dryly, “or where you lure unsuspecting hikers?”

“Are we meeting a witch to trade for supplies?” Gaz joked, his arms crossed as he surveyed the scene.

Soap, standing behind him, squinted. “If a witch comes out of there, I’m running back to base.”

Reaper cut the engine and grabbed her bag. “It’s mine. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Before anyone could respond, a low bark rumbled through the trees.

The massive dog bounded out from behind the house, a massive blur of fur and slobber. “Bloody hell!” Soap yelped, scrambling behind Ghost, who, to his credit, stood still as the enormous Saint Bernard thundered toward them stopping in front of Reaper, wagging his tail so hard it could have knocked a grown man over. Clifford, as Reaper introduced him, was as big as he was slobbery.

“You never said you had a bear,” Soap muttered, peeking out from behind Ghost.

“Harmless,” she said, scratching behind his ears.

“Harmless, she says,” Soap grumbled. “That thing could bench-press me.”

Clifford tilted his head at Soap’s voice, letting out a deep woof before trotting over to sniff at his boots.

Gaz, meanwhile, was practically cooing at Clifford. “You’ve got a dog? That's adorable.”

Reaper raised a brow. “I’m not adorable.”

“Your cottage begs to differ,” Gaz shot back, gesturing to the idyllic scene around them.

Ghost raised a brow. “You live here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Gaz gestured helplessly at the idyllic scene. “You don’t exactly give off ‘granny in a cottage’ vibes.”

Reaper smirked faintly. “Good.”

“Figured you’d live in a dungeon,” Gaz teased. “Not... whatever this is.”

If the outside surprised them, the interior rendered them speechless. The cabin was minimal yet cozy, every detail carefully curated. Handmade quilts and pillows adorned the couch, and shelves were lined with jars of dried herbs and homemade preserves. String lights cast a warm glow, and a faint aroma of lavender and something earthy lingered in the air. A bookshelf in the corner overflowed with worn novels and journals, while a small fireplace crackled softly.

Ghost, who rarely spoke about anything unrelated to missions, ran a gloved hand over the carved wooden mantle. “You made this?” he asked, nodding to the intricate designs.

You nodded, a little sheepish. “Most of it. I like working with my hands when I’m not… you know, shooting.”

Soap was already poking around, pulling open cupboards and exclaiming over jars of pickled vegetables. “You’ve got jam? Like, homemade jam?” He held up a jar like it was a precious artifact. “She’s got jam, boys. Homemade bloody jam!”

“Yes,” Reaper said, crossing her arms. “Try not to break anything.”

“Did you crochet these pillows too?” he teased, holding up a throw pillow embroidered with flowers.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Keeps me busy.”

“Busy,” Soap repeated, incredulous. “You’re secretly everyone’s gran, aren’t you?”

“Oi, I’m not that old,” you protested, swatting at him with a dish towel.

“But look at this!” he said, holding up a patchwork quilt.

Reaper didn’t dignify that with a response, just shrugged, but Clifford let out a loud snore from the corner, effectively ending the discussion.

As Reaper prepared a hearty stew, the team gravitated to the kitchen. Soap and Gaz hovered like starving children, while Price helped slice bread.

“Is this… homemade?” Price asked, nodding at the loaf cooling on the counter.

“Figured you’d be hungry, it’s not that hard.” Reaper said, not looking up from the pot.

“Not that hard,” Soap mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “Meanwhile, I nearly set my flat on fire boiling pasta.”

Dinner was a revelation. Ghost surprised everyone by going back for thirds, and Soap declared it the best meal he’d ever eaten (between mouthfuls of stew and bread).

“Not bad, Lieutenant,” Ghost muttered, which from him was practically a glowing review.

“You’ve ruined us,” Gaz added, wiping his plate clean. “How’re we supposed to go back to regular food after this?”

“This is the best thing I’ve eaten in months,” Soap muttered around a mouthful of bread.

“You’ve been hiding this paradise from us?” Gaz said, gesturing at the cozy interior.

“Thought you preferred your chaos,” Reaper replied, smirking faintly.

“We do,” Soap said quickly, “but this? This is next level.”

By the time the meal ended, the team had fully invaded every corner of Reaper’s space. Soap challenged Gaz to cards, Clifford sprawled across Price’s feet, and Ghost—ever the enigma—quietly helped Reaper chop vegetables for tomorrow’s meal.

“You don’t have to,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“I know,” Ghost replied simply, his tone soft.

“You’re full of surprises,” she said as he handed her a perfectly diced carrot.

“You have no idea,” Ghost replied, his tone unreadable.

As the night wore on, the team sank into an unspoken rhythm. Soap’s laughter mixed with the crackle of the fire, and even Ghost’s stoic presence seemed lighter.

Price absently scratched behind the dog’s ears, looking unusually relaxed. “You’ve got quite the setup here, Lieutenant.”

Reaper glanced at him, settled into one of the armchairs near the fire, her expression softening slightly. “Thanks, Captain.”

As the night wore on, the unspoken bond between them deepened. For all her stoicism in the field, Reaper’s home was a haven—a place of warmth and quiet that each of them hadn’t realized they desperately needed.

By morning, it was decided.

“This place is a bloody sanctuary, this is the spot now,” Soap declared, stretching as the sunlight streamed through the windows. “First day back, we’re coming here.”

Reaper raised a brow. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“You didn’t disagree either,” Gaz pointed out, grinning.

Reaper sighed, but there was no real frustration in her tone. “Fine. But next time, you’re bringing the beer.”

“Sorry, Ghost,” Soap added. “Your spooky flat’s been officially replaced.”

Ghost shrugged, leaning against the wall quietly observing as Reaper worked on mending a tear in her field jacket. “Fine by me.”

For all her darkness in the field, Reaper’s home was paradise, and her team decided they’d never let her live it down.

“Well, Reaper,” Soap said, biting into a fresh slice of bread, “you’re officially the heart of this team.”

She rolled her eyes, though couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t mind having you lot here—as long as you pull your weight in the garden.”

As the team loaded into the Humvee, Clifford gave each of them an affectionate nuzzle. Reaper stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her usual stoicism softened by the faintest smile.

“Drive Safely” she said simply.

And they knew they’d return—because for all her darkness in the field, Reaper’s home was a haven, and they were lucky to be part of it.

-

Months later, after another long and grueling deployment, the team returned to the cabin. This time, Clifford greeted them like old friends, and the warm light spilling from the windows felt like a beacon.

Reaper, standing in the doorway, simply smirked.

“Welcome back.”

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction, remake, and this chapter lil bit longer

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5

PART 4 THE RIPPED PHOTO

All the campers marched like soldiers along the long forest path. Matheo and Mattia, the two boys facing “punishment,” trudged behind, clearly over it. At least the sun wasn’t blazing through the pine trees.

“Alright, everyone else can get back to your activities!” Mr. Hamilton yelled into his megaphone.

The campers cheered and bolted down the road. Mattia and Matheo stayed behind, exchanging annoyed looks as Mr. Hamilton pointed to their destination: a creaky old cabin that looked one strong wind away from collapse.

“Isolation cabin,” Mr. Hamilton declared.

“This place better not have ghosts,” Mattia muttered, adjusting his sunglasses.

Matheo rolled his eyes. “If there are ghosts, they’ll probably be more fun than you.”

***

The cabin creaked ominously as the boys settled in. Matheo unpacked with exaggerated flair, sticking Real Madrid posters on the walls. Mattia ignored him, focused on his card game.

“What are you even playing?” Matheo asked, squinting at the cards.

“Uno. Against myself. I’m winning,” Mattia replied without looking up.

Matheo rolled his eyes, then moved to open the window. A strong wind blew in, scattering his posters everywhere.

“Ugh, help me close this!” Matheo groaned.

Mattia stood, reluctantly helping. Together, they managed to shut the window.

“Thanks,” Matheo mumbled.

“No problem,” Mattia replied, sitting back down.

As they gathered Matheo’s scattered posters, Mattia raised an eyebrow at a particular one.

“What is that?”

“It’s Real Madrid merch,” Matheo said, clutching the poster protectively. “And this guy is Kylian Mbappe. He is my favorite player. Don’t judge.”

Mattia smirked. “Whatever makes you happy, buddy.”

Later, Matheo rummaged through his bag and pulled out a snack.

“Want some chips?”

Mattia shook his head. “I only eat chips with Nutella. You wouldn’t understand.”

Matheo froze. “Excuse me? I eat everything with Nutella. Even fries.”

“No way,” Mattia said, his jaw dropping.

Matheo grabbed a jar from his drawer triumphantly. “Believe it.”

Mattia stared. “Okay, now I trust you a little more. Just a little.”

The two laughed, dunking chips into Nutella like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Whats your dad like? I mean, is he the kind of father you can talk to or is he one of those workaholic types, who says I'll talk to you later, honey. But you know never really does. Well i hate that" Matheo asked casually with his expressive face and eating his chip.

Mattia chuckle a bit seeing Matheo face,

"I don't have a father, actually." he said with a bit bitter face.

"I mean, I had one once, I suppose. But my parents divorce since I was baby. My mom never even mentioned it. It's like he evaporated into thin air or something." Mattia said it with his voice getting quieter.

Matheo face shocked, his eyes widen, and his posture straightening, "Scary the way nobody stays together anymore."

"Tell me about it."

"How old are you?" Matheo asked.

“I'll be 10 on December 15th,” Mattia replied. “Why?”

Matheo froze. “That’s my birthday.”

Mattia raised an eyebrow. “Weird.”

***

The rain finally stopped, leaving behind that fresh, post-storm vibe. Matheo leaned against the cabin door, his hair slightly damp from the drizzle earlier. “Oh, hey, it stopped raining. Want to get a popsicle or something?” he asked casually, glancing at Mattia, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, lost in thought.

“What’s the matter?” Matheo pressed, noticing the faraway look in Mattia’s eyes.

Mattia sighed, tilting her head back. “What’s your mother like?” he asked suddenly.

Matheo blinked, caught off guard. “I never met her. She and my dad split up when I was a baby. Maybe even before—I’m not sure. He doesn’t like to talk about her.” He paused, fidgeting with his hands. “But I know she was really, really beautiful.”

Mattia squinted at him. “How do you know that?”

“Well,” Matheo said with a sheepish smile, “my dad had old picture of her hidden on his room. I’d always look at it, like, all the time. He finally caught me and just gave it to me.”

"Look, I’m thirsty. Sure you don’t want to hit the mess hall and grab something to drink?”

Mattia frowned, folding his arms. “Will you stop thinking about your stomach at a time like this?”

Matheo scoffed, hands on his hips. “A time like what?”

Matheo’s eyes widened. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?”

Matheo rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, Mattia, please tell me.”

Matheo hesitated, then shook his head, changing the subject. "Listen, I only have a mother, and you only have a father. You've never seen your mom, and I've never seen my dad. You have one old picture of your mom, and I have one old picture of my dad. But at least yours is probably a whole picture. Mine's a pathetic little thing, all crinkled and ripped right down the middle, and...

Matheo stood in stunned silence, the coincidence weighing heavily in the air.

“What are you doing in your trunk for?” Mattia asked, voice curious but edged with disbelief.

Wordlessly, the other pulled out a crinkled photograph, holding it up with trembling hands. “This... it’s a picture of my mum. And it’s ripped, too. Right down the middle.”

The first stared at the photo, their breath catching in their throat. Their voice was a whisper now. “Right down the middle.”

“Okay, this is freaky,” they said, their tone shaky. “On the count of three, we’ll hold them together. Deal?”

The other nodded, their hands still trembling. “Deal.”

“One... two... three.”

As the halves of the photos came together, the ripped edges fit perfectly. The faded image revealed a couple smiling brightly—Matheo’s father and Mattia’s mother. The realization hit them like a thunderbolt.

“That’s... my mom,” Mattia said, his voice barely audible.

“And thats my old man,” Mattia replied, unable to look away.

Their eyes locked, the truth settling in like a jigsaw finally completed.

[xxfangirl365xx]

alright kids, gather around. I have some things I'd like to say regarding last night in a very organized list format

OVERALL SHOW THOUGHTS

Overall It was beautiful. I cried watching the stream. But sadly went to bed before it was over because I was feeling very unwell from staying up so late ): I missed blood,I'm not ok and Helena on stream but that's ok <3

MCR5,NEW TOUR?

-Did not expect them to release anything about that last night since it was night one of two. More likely they would do it tonight so I'm holding out hope for tonight since it's the more likely option

SOCIALS/ONLINE PRESENCE/POSTS

-Frank has NOT posted anything regarding MCR only dunes, which is very unlike him. As we know Frank loved MCR to death. He's the no 1 fan of his own band so I find it odd and very intentional that he has not posted anything about MCR at wwwyf only dunes

-along the same lines Mikey has not posted anything. Few weeks ago we got practice from him which was good, but all we have from him r 2 pics of him and his wife which r adorable, but not relating to MCR. also seems a little intentional to not have said anything about them playing at all

-MCR'S socials r DRY like bone dry. With swarm tour they posted things about "tonight were playing in (blank) at (blank time)" or something like that but they didn't post anything about WWWYF apart from when tickets went on sale for both days which is a little odd in my opinion

for all of them the silence seems ominous. Like they r trying to build suspense

OUTFIT'S, STAGE,GEE'S HAIR

-All black outfits head to toe, they looked good but it was very lacking black parade tbh (not a bad thing they looked so cute tho)

-STAGE-

-Only projections of spiders,tree (during cancer),swords,bridge (?),worms (?)

-SPIDERS PROJECTED

-swarm logo=fly

-spiders= eat flies

-"Witch" was leaked earlier this year. Paper kingdom was the album meant to come right after black parade. Their aesthetic kinda similar. Whites,blacks ect.

-some of the visuals like the swords was giving very paper kingdom 100% and if I rly did see a bridge projection in the background that's also very much the vibe. but most this stuff was done in short flashes across the backdrop

-Gee's hair-

-New haircut (stunning btw)

-new era? Gee had changed his hair for new era's. bullets/revenge it stayed pretty much the same apart from random dye jobs here and there but during black parade he got it real short and bleached it. Danger days ht dyed it red. hair is a big thing when it comes to Gee.

-New hair since shrine show (2019) pretty much. He's had long hair since MCR has come back together. U could argue it was to look nice but think about all the other stuff he's done that was also a big deal like umbrella acad final season and stuff. Why didn't he get a haircut then? Why now? and why was he hiding it?

-The last vid we got was earlier in the week the birthday one and he had the long hair still. It was recent like he did this JUST for the shows.

-i'm 100% taking this is a way of moving into a new era for MCR

MERCH

-some people were kinda bummed there was no new cool merch from the festival apart from the DEAD! zip up which is pretty cool ngl

-kinda looked like they were trying to get rid of older stuff before making something new perhaps?

-spending more time and resources on NEW shirts for a NEW album makes more sense than spending all the time and resources on designing new shirts for black parade when they can do that pretty much any time

HOPES FOR TONIGHT'S SHOW

I will not be staying up this time sorry guys. I slept 4 hours last night and feel very unwell from it. So i'll be sleeping tonight sadly but here is my hopes and predictions for tonight.

-MCR will play just like last night with the visuals and stuff but will maybe play one new song or announce it some how with the backdrop and "Paper Kingdom" will be announced to be released on OCT. 31

-Their socials will go live with all the info immediately

-Shortly after the album comes out there will be tour dates announced for spring/summer of 2025 INCLUDING warped tour

-END-

thanks for listening to my rambles if I think of more i'll add it to the list but I wanted a cohesive place to put all my findings and thoughts to share

[maleyanderecafe]

Jimi-Kare: My Quiet Boyfriend (Mobile)

Created by: SEEC Inc.

Genre: Otome

This one is the last of the SEEC Inc games that I'm aware of that have a yandere in it (though only in one ending). Personally out of the three games, this is probably the one I like the least, though I do really like one of the cross dressing endings. Still though, it's a fun short otome mobile game that has a nice story. If you don't want to play the game, you can view the game and all of it's endings here.

The story starts with a flashback of Nao being teased for being girly as a child. Fir protects him from the bullies and promises to always protect him no matter what. However, when they reach middle school, the two of them went to different schools and thus were not able to see each other until they went to high school. Nao has changed into a more gloomy and shy person as a result. During this time, Nao and Fir are recruited to be the class's representative for a beauty competition. To get back at an annoying classmate Ryu, Fir gets Nao to change his appearance for the contest, starting out with changing his hair, taking his glasses off and wearing his clothes differently. Fir, though a bit pushy, is able to get Nao to look more presentable for the contest. As the two of them prepare for the contest, they hang out more, reminiscing about their past, going to play at a claw machine.

As the story plays out, Fir can get Nao to decide what he wants to wear for the competition or make the decision for him. This can result in him becoming kind of like a play boy, him dressing up more cool like a prince or crossdressing as a princess and of course him becoming a bit of a yandere.

For the yandere ending, Fir forces Nao to crossdress and even walk around outside of school while crossdressing. This leads to Nao seeing on the TV that when another lady felt a bit jealous of the attention that her male friend was getting when crossdressing, leading Nao to question what he and Fir's relationship is like. When asked if Fir is just doing it to kind of make fun of him, Fir apologizes stating that she had gone too far. Nao gets annoyed, pinning Fir down and stating that he is a man and doesn't like crossdressing. Nao ends up disappearing for a while, leading to Fir getting worried and going to his house to check in on him. She seems relieved that Nao is there, though in a more depressive state than normal, wearing his hair back to the way it was and a hoodie. After bringing Fir into his room, Nao ends up pinning Fir down, believing that Fir doesn't see him as a man and therefore that she should have known it was dangerous to go into a man's room. The scene ends ominously with Fir unable to escape due to Nao's strength and Nao stating he won't hold back anymore.

SEEC Inc usually makes some pretty good but short mobile games as seem with The Search for Haru and My Puppy Fiance, but I honestly am not the biggest fan of this one. There are some good scenes in this one, especially the cross dressing ending, but there's also a bunch of things I just can't really vibe with. Fir, like the female protagonists of the other two games, is generally a pretty proactive female lead, but while the other two have a more likable personality, Fir is... very pushy. Granted, she does hold back on a lot of her pushiness as it goes on, but I feel like she often pushes Nao into things he doesn't really want to do, like change his appearance or in one branch force him to crossdress. Although Nao does consent to doing these things, it does feel like he just did them because he was pressured to and not so much because he wanted to. He does later admit that he did want to change his appearance and that he was trying to find an opportunity to, but it doesn't really seem that way when we are pushing him around. The other thing I'm not a fan of is mostly just a me thing that happens a lot in otomes, but the entire "Look at me as a man" and "You should know now to step into a man's room" kind of thing. Again, this is something that happens a lot in straight media, but I always found it pretty annoying since it implies that the guy is going to do something bad to you if you're not careful, which... don't do that? Why do we have to assume that? Anyways, Nao's entire yandere/dark route has this kind of vibe, which is partially why I'm not the biggest fan of it.

That being said it is interesting seeing how Nao's insecurities and envy basically consume his being in that ending. I think during the entire route where Fir gets Nao to crossdress, he more or less feels uncomfortable, not only because he feels awkward about it but also because he feels like she doesn't see him in a romantic way, something that eventually escalates when Fir apologizes and apparently when she goes to his house and doesn't feel awkward while in his room. Though this is a small event and we don't get to really see what happens after this encounter. I do think it is a nice setup for what could eventually come to be.

Personally I really like the Princess Ending (because of course I do), though I admit that the Prince Ending is also one that is pretty good. I think the idea of the two crossdressing and eventually confessing afterwards for the contest is pretty good and fairly cute.

Overall, My Quiet Boyfriend is a good game, even if it's not really my favorite of the series. While the yandere actions of this game are pretty light, it's still a fun thing to watch through to see just what will happen with Nao as the story goes on.

[mrsshabana]

gyutaro x reader, but... reader is secretly a eldritch horror. like if he asks a question (ex: where did you get that?) they'd be like 'don't worry about it, dear~' or 'That doesn;t reeeeeeaally matter, does it? I'm just happy you like it, love~' just reader giving the most the overly ominous vibes when it comes to stuff they do. and gyutaro hasn't seen reader eat like normal humans so he'd assume they too is a demon but noooo reader is SO much more

ya dig or no?

𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐄𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐜���!𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Somehow Gyutaro piques the interest of an eldritch being. He has no idea what you are but he can't help but feel undeniably drawn to you. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Canon!Gyutaro x ???!Reader, reader technically doesn't have a gender BUT reader takes on the form of a female. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2k words. I actually REALLY love this idea... I kind of just went on a whim and wrote this. It's very different from what I usually write and it's very mysterious. But I hope you like it anyway!

It was a foggy night.

Gyutaro stands in a pool of blood. Having followed a demon slayer out of the district and into the nearby woods. Ending his life as soon as he turned his back.

Nothing out of the usual for Gyutaro. But everything felt off somehow. The air was thicker, the dew on the grass felt damper, and the wind seemed to whisper to him. He could feel each individual speck of moisture hit his skin as the fog traveled through the air.

He stands there, feeling something similar to dread but also somehow comforting at the same time. Unmoving as he stares at the corpse before him, too overwhelmed by the environment to enjoy his meal.

He blinks.

"So... pretty you are," you stand inches from his face, caressing his cheek with a hand that feels devoid of life.

Gyutaro's body completely freezes up. How did you get there? He never saw you approach him. One moment he was looking at his prey, and the next there was a woman right in front of him.

He feels like he can't breathe, like the air left his lungs the moment your skin touched his.

You remove your hand from his cheek, "What kind of... creature may you be?" You ask as if you already know the answer.

And for some reason, Gyutaro feels compelled to answer you immediately, "I'm... a demon."

It's a similar feeling to when he's in the presence of Master Muzan. Like he has no choice but to obey. Like it's in his DNA to obey you. Or maybe there is another force that gives him no choice.

The corner of your lips slowly curl into a smile, "How lovely..."

For some reason, it feels incredibly difficult for him to avert his gaze from yours. But with all of his willpower, he manages to do so. Looking down at you, observing your form.

You look like an ordinary human woman. But your aura feels like something else, something that terrifies him to think about.

You're quite beautiful too. Having a perfectly symmetrical face, almost too symmetrical. It took him far too long to notice that you were completely nude. Your body looks ordinary as well at first glance. But when he looks closer he realizes that there is a fine, black dust covering your skin. He doesn't know what it is, but the smell of it reminds him of burning corpses.

But underneath that strange smell, he doesn't smell a human nor a demon. You don't smell like anything at all. Perhaps the smell of the universe if that could be described.

"Wh-Who are you...?" he croaks.

"Mm... You may refer to me as," you pause for a moment, "Y/N."

"W-Well Y/N, you must be very cold," his voice quivers, "Let's get you inside."

He has no idea why he would even suggest such a thing. Demons shouldn't fraternize with humans like this, but you just feel so different. He can't help but feel overwhelmingly drawn to you.

"Yes... let us do so... Gyutaro," you say while gently taking his hand.

Without thinking, he takes your hand and turns towards the district. Completely forgetting his meal.

And that's when he realizes, he never told you his name.

+:｡.｡　⛧　｡.｡:+

Gyutaro eventually stopped questioning what you were. Maybe you were just a very strange human? Or perhaps you were some type of other creature. If demons exist then it isn't out of the realm of possibility that you were some kind of creature similar to himself.

He got no answers to his questions about you, but all he knew was that he enjoyed your presence.

You'd come around often. Sometimes you'd stay multiple nights with him before disappearing. Most of the time you'd sit in silence together, allowing him refuge in your arms. You'll stroke his hair and comment how his birthmarks are "Atramentous" and "Abyssal yet prepossessing."

He loved the way you spoke to him.

And he'd gravely miss you when you'd leave. Sometimes for days on end, only to reappear again in a similar fashion to the first time you met. Nude and covered in a mysterious dust.

There were so many things about you that he didn't understand. Like how you seemed to always know what he was thinking. And how you would only blink if he noticed and thought about how you hadn't been blinking for too long.

Your movements, your speech, your presence - everything about you was alluring. He didn't know if it was because you were otherworldly, or if it was because he only saw you as such. After all, he loved you.

Maybe love makes you view someone in such a way? Like they are quite literally out of this world. He's never experienced love, so to him, it made enough sense to look past the strange things you did.

But Daki could not look past it like her brother did. She was terrified of you. You never did anything to her, but you didn't have to. She could feel something off about you, and it made her incredibly uncomfortable.

And every time she even thought about mentioning her discomfort to her brother, she'd be struck with immeasurable dread. She couldn't explain it, but it was enough to keep her quiet. So she lied to her brother and stayed out of your way.

+:｡.｡　⛧　｡.｡:+

It was a foggy night, almost identical to when you first met, when you asked him to follow you into the forest.

He followed you blindly. Not out of fear or lack of control, but because he trusted you completely.

You lead him to a lake in the middle of the forest. How has he never noticed it was here? He's explored the wilderness surrounding the district hundreds of times over the century that he's been alive. And he's never once seen this lake.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You say with a smile, though the somber tone in your voice betrays you. You sound as though you're mourning something very important to you.

"It is," Gyutaro smiles despite noticing your tone, "I've never noticed it was here before."

"Maybe you have never noticed it because you didn't need to."

"Maybe," he grins, always enjoying the allusive way in which you speak, "It reminds me of you..."

"How so?" you cock your head to the side like you're surprised by his statement.

He steps closer to the body of water, looking down at the calming ripples on its surface. "It's mysterious and beautiful..."

For the first time, it seems like the words coming out of his mouth weren't what you were expecting. When you speak with him, it's as if you always know what he will say. But not this time.

"Thank you," you murmur. "Perhaps we are one and the same... this lake and I." You step closer to him, your shoulders touching as you look down into the lake as well. "Would you say... that you love this lake?"

His cheeks turn crimson as he nods, "Y-Yes, I do."

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, "It loves you too."

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the water ripple and the moonlight twinkle on its surface. Gyutaro never notices how the ripples seem unaffected by the direction of the wind.

"Do you love it so much that you want to become closer to it...?" You whisper, looking up into his demonic irises.

His mouth opens for a moment, then closes momentarily before opening again, "I want to be as close as possible to it..."

"... to become one...?

He nods eagerly, "M-More than anything..."

"If it is your will... then it is ours." You leave his side and begin slowly walking towards the body of water, removing your clothes as you do so.

Gyutaro's eyes widen and he follows your lead, removing his clothes as well without question.

Once he's rid of his clothes you turn around and hold his face in the palms of your hands. Slowly pulling him into the water. He feels as though he's in some kind of trance as he follows you deeper, but at the same time, it feels like he's exactly where the universe wants him to be.

As the water surrounds his body it feels almost embryonic. Warm and comforting, like he's being embraced entirely by you.

He follows you until his feet no longer touch the bottom of the lake. The only part of him above the water is his head. He watches as you slowly descend into the water, it envelopes your face but you remain keeping eye contact with him.

You gently pull his face closer to yours until your lips touch.

Gyutaro's eyes close as his entire body feels ethereal. Light yet heavy, happy yet sad, alive yet dead.

His lips stay connected to yours as his head submerges under the water. Sinking endlessly into the lake, your kiss never breaks. He doesn't realize that he stopped breathing long ago. Nor does he feel any urgency to breathe or return to the surface. All he wants is to stay here forever, with you.

To his dismay, you break the kiss. Gyutaro opens his eyes and sees you. Yet it entirely isn't you. Or at least it's not the you that he's used to seeing.

You are everything yet nothing all at once.

In his eyes, you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

And as you pull him deeper into this seemingly endless abyss, he sees a flicker of light coming from the darkness below.

It gets closer... and closer... and closer...

His eyes widen when he sees what it is. A moon. But not just a moon, it appears to be the surface of the water.

Gyutaro wants to reemerge on the other side - to be with you. But he feels like he has an important decision to make. One he doesn't quite understand.

Feeling compelled to look behind him, back to the direction in which he came, he does just that. But he doesn't recognize the scene from which he left. It was a calm night, was it not?

Then why does he see fire and ash?

Why does he feel so sad? Looking back, he feels so many things. Like a complete failure, filled with so much self-hatred. Like every decision he made didn't make a difference. Everything he tried to do was for nothing because he couldn't escape what the universe had planned for him. He was cursed from the beginning.

He took and took his entire life, but no matter how much he took from others he could never have it for himself.

The scales would never tip in his favor. It was destined to be that way from the start.

But with you, his curse isn't ignored nor is it gone. It's celebrated and accepted. When he's with you, the scale is flipped upside down.

Gyutaro swims deeper and never looks back. Reemerging on the other side.

His head rises out of the water and he opens his eyes to see you. You look... normal? And nothing seems out of the ordinary. The lake and the forest look exactly the same as they did before he went under the water.

"How do you feel, my love?" you chime, holding his hands beneath the water.

"I-I feel... great," he looks around, sedately, "Perfect actually." Finally, he smiles.

"I'm so glad to hear that." With an elated grin, you lead him out of the water once again.

The two of you make your way out of the lake. And he sees his clothes lying on the bank, just where he had left them.

He bends down and picks up his trousers, but pauses when he notices something unusual. A fine, black dust on his fingertips.

"Are you excited to spend eternity together?"

[telomeke]

4 MINUTES EPISODE 5 – FLASHBACKS, WATCHALONGS AND AN OMINOUS CULTURAL TOUCHPOINT

They're doing a great job with this show and I'm now a newly-minted fan of Director Ning Bhanbhassa Dhubthien, whose confident hand has been assuredly steering the proceedings in 4 Minutes. 🤩

Ep.5 has irrefutably confirmed that the 4 Minutes of the title really is a reference to the four-minute limbo after the heart stops beating (4 Minutes Sultrier Version Ep.5 timestamp 42:20).

So the layers are now being slowly peeled back and more was revealed to us, shedding flashes of light on the convoluted storyline. All is still not clear yet, but some ideas are starting to take shape.

OK, this is mostly guesswork but anyway–

It's quite firmly implanted in my mind now that we're seeing a lot of Great's four minutes of brain activity post cardiac arrest. But what's been percolating in my mind since the last episode is that that we might also be seeing Tyme's four-minute post-death flashback, especially since we also saw him getting shot in the opening sequence of Episode 1.

And so those scenes and sequences shown from Tyme's point of view may also be him re-living his own past experiences (concurrently with Great's?) even as his own heart has stopped.

This thought was triggered by Ep.4's revelation that people who find themselves in the Four-Minute Zone get to enter some sort of common waiting room, and they get to meet others in there too:

And the vibes I got watching this scene reminded me so much of Great and Tyme's conversation at their lakeside glamping in the trailer, which we got to see fully in Episode 5:

I don't think this is Great and Tyme on a romantic date in the real world. Serene, other-worldly and seemingly divorced from reality – this locale has them talking about how beautiful it all is, and Great even says "I wanna stay here forever" before admitting "But we probably can't."

It really looks like this is Great and Tyme finding each other in the four-minute post-death netherworld, with the art gallery meeting room switched up for a more romantic getaway instead (that Great got to choose). And with the clock ticking ominously down to 11:04...

There's also this little snippet from the trailer:

Tyme is locked out of a room, and he calls out for Great even as his surroundings are all sepia-toned and soft-focused.

I think this is 4 Minutes showing us that Tyme's four minutes will be up before Great's are, and Tyme will swept back to the real world – or away to another world – while Great is left behind. (Or maybe it's the other way around?)

Ominously, we are not shown Great's rapture and release from four-minute limbo – as much as I want a Happily Ever After for the two newest pretty boys who have won my heart, 4 Minutes is making no such promises. So I suppose we should prepare ourselves for the possibility that while Great (or Tyme) may well be waking up from a four-minute hiatus and returning to the world of the living at 11:04 – it's not a guarantee that the other will rejoin him there when his own four minutes tick down. 😬💔😭

‌

Anyway, I've refrained from commenting on the numeral 4 as a symbol of death, because this is more a thing in Chinese culture rather than Thai (and up until Ep.5 Thai-Chinese references were at most only faintly present in 4 Minutes).

Well that certainly changed, at 4 Minutes Sultrier Version Ep.5 timestamp 34:50:

The temple where Ep.1 accident victim Khun Manee goes to hire a hitman is unmistakably Chinese. The mafia don she engages with also speaks in Teochew Chinese (I think) at timestamp 36:25.

And so when her siam si/เซียมซี fortune stick shows up with the numeral 4, the link with death is all but confirmed (the word for death in many Chinese dialects like Hokkien, Teochew, Cantonese and Hakka sounds similar to the word for the numeral 4, although there are tonal differences). No surprises then, that the Chinese don tells Manee "Someone's probably going to die."

This had a Thai parallel in Ep.1, when the clock in Khun Manee's hospital room showed us it was thirteen minutes past 1 o'clock in the afternoon:

As portentous as this might appear to occidental minds, it's not just the Western superstition surrounding the number 13 that's threading darker undertones into the fabric of this scene.

In Thai culture (where belief in the supernatural abounds), the numeral 13 is also sometimes considered ill-omened because it looks rather like the Thai word for ghost – ผี – flipped onto its side, adding to the general sense of foreboding in Ep.1.

And for me, this was not meant to foreshadow all the deaths taking place in subsequent scenes and episodes, although it isn't inappropriate as a device.

We have been seeing ghosts in this series – Great, Lukwa, possibly Tyme, and whoever else who found themselves caught in the spectral dimension that exists between life and death in the universe of 4 Minutes.

‌And this may be just my fevered 4 Minutes obsessed brain overthinking things again, but in this light – the paired thirteen (13:13) is likely a reference to the ghostly half-lives of our protagonist couple Great and Tyme, getting to share a precious (final?) four minutes together in that twilight zone between the world of the living and the great beyond.

But it seems more than likely that they will be yanked apart when their four minutes are up. 😧 So will that separation be forever? I wait on tenterhooks to see.

P.S. Links to my own fan theory as to what it all might possibly mean:

And some more supporting information, embedded in the show:

‌

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Could you do a fanfic where the marquis meets the reader in a museum and they bond over their live of art

Meet Me in the Hallway

Pairing: Vincent de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: VERY mild language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.3k

The Louvre has maintained a particular place in my heart for as long as I can remember. As a child, I recall visiting during tourist season. The other children darted around, driving their guardians to the brink of insanity. However, I stood in front of the immense paintings, carefully analyzing each aspect of the art. I remember visiting The Louvre as a teenager during the winter, when the immense corridors were barren. I'd find a place to sit and ponder, observing faces and objects in the quiet halls. I recall taking advantage of any occasion to talk about art with friends and family.

My friends were perplexed by my preoccupation. When I rambled on, they would nod and appear to be attentive. But I could always tell by the look on their faces that they were eager for my rant to end.

I've always been drawn to art's beauty. One bad stroke, one outburst of rage, and the finished result may be jeopardized. Art is more than just a painting or a sculpture; it is a way of life. You must be able to look beyond what the eye can see in order to produce art. You must be able to view the world in a completely unique way. You must look for a message behind the eyes rather than simply viewing things analytically. Painters paint, artists interpret.

That is what separates the good from the iconic.

I enjoyed the near silence as I wandered through The Louvre. Because it being January, the museum was nearly totally populated with a sprinkle of wandering locals. I took a tour around my favorite section, French paintings 1780-1850. The gold frames stood out against the dark burgundy walls.

The atmosphere was serene. As night fell, the hallway was illuminated exclusively by a few fluorescent lights. The sensation that washed over me was one of sheer nostalgia and amazement.

The dimness of room 700, when combined with the massive displays showcasing the complexity of the human mind, gave off an ominous vibe. There was everything and nothing at the same time.

Nothing else on the planet can make you feel this way.

I proceeded to one of the most well-known works of art in the entire museum.

Ah, one of my favorites, Liberty Leading the People. Eugene Delacoix created this work of art in the year 1830. Delacoix depicts a scene during the July Revolution of 1830, when King Charles X-

Woah.

My gaze was drawn to a man sitting on a beautiful white couch.

I tightened my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

Was he a tourist?

No way, no how. No tourist would dress up in an expensive three-piece black suit to visit the Louvre. He's got to be a local.

He was staring at the enormous painting, his mind fixed in deep thought. Many locals stopped to look at the paintings, but he seemed to be examining every face and object.

Should I introduce myself? It would be the polite thing to do as I’ve been obviously staring at him for-

“Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

My trance was broken by his velvety accent. I hid my gitters by slipping my hands into the pockets of my beige trenchcoat.

“I’m sorry,” I said smugly, “You caught my eye.”

He sneered, a slight smirk playing on the edges of his lips. He couldn't take his gaze away from the painting. I swallowed, unsure how to dispel the uneasiness. The man uncrossed his lanky legs and pushed himself up to his full height.

He's tall, Jesus.

He strolled over to the picture, decreasing the distance between himself and the work of art to a few feet. He cocked his head upwards, his gaze wandering over the magnificent painting's many intricacies. The man put his hand on his hip and pushed his jacket to the side, revealing an astonishing variety of golden buttons along his vest.

“What do you think of this one?”

He asked, motioning with his free hand towards the canvas. I followed his movements, taking in the painting I know and adore.

“It’s a beautiful piece of art.”

I said hesitantly. The man chuckled, turning his head to meet my gaze. Despite being only three feet away, I found myself completely engrossed in his captivating green eyes.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful?”

His smirk now more prevalent than before. I exhaled a shuddery breath.

“Well, it’s one of the most famous paintings in art history. I think it's wonderful how this artwork has become a universal emblem of liberty and freedom from oppressive dominance.”

The man raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“That’s excellent insight. It’s good to meet people with an appreciation for the finer things in life.”

He returned his gaze to the canvas, motioning with his fingers for me to come towards him.

“Come closer, look at this.”

I was hesitant to approach this intimidating man, but my curiosity was far too strong to ignore. So I narrowed the gap between us to a mere six inches. As I took up a place next to him, our sides nearly brushed against each other.

He raised his finger to the stunning representation of liberty.

Take note of her features, such as her straight nose, plump lips, and delicate chin. They all look like antique Greek and Roman statues. She pays homage to both Ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, and Roman republican culture.”

I narrowed my eyes, mentally applying his words to the painting.

“Here, look at this,” I began, pointing to the left side of the painting.

“See that guy with the pistol? He's wearing a shirt but no jacket. He belongs to the lower class. But look at the man next to him; he's wearing a top hat, jacket, and vest. He belongs to the upper class. Delacroix aimed to include all classes of people in the fight against royalist oppression.”

The man exhaled in amazement.

“How fascinating. Delacroix’s artistic vision is truly unmatched.”

“I agree. This piece is probably my favorite in the entire museum.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly.

“It is certainly impressive. But my favorite would have to be Venus de Milo.”

He shifted his head to face me, sweeping his gaze up and down my figure. I shuddered, his heated gaze making me feel like I was under scrutiny.

“However, I suppose that opinion could simply be mine because I enjoy the presence of a beautiful woman.”

Holy shit was he flirting with me?

Heat climbed onto my cheekbones. I hoped my flush wasn't too visible, as his gaze was still fixed on me. I chuckled awkwardly.

“I suppose that could certainly contribute to your fondness of the piece.”

He motioned towards the white couch.

“Here, sit, let’s talk.”

He sat closer than I had expected. Our thighs were almost touching, and the arm slung around the back of the couch was almost brushing my shoulders. Despite the color on my cheeks and my minor intimidation of the man's large stature, I felt strangely at ease. I was intrigued rather than nervous. He exuded mystery, and I had every intention of unraveling the web of secrets.

“Do you believe talent like this is given at birth, or developed as the individual grows?”

I licked my lips, carefully contemplating my next words.

“Well, I believe we are all born blank canvases, and if we find something we are exceptionally passionate about, then we can grow those specific talents.”

I swallowed, hoping he was satisfied with that reply.

“How about you?”

“Oh, I believe people with true artistic talent are born with promise. Because if we go by your logic, anyone who loves art has the potential to become the next Delacroix.”

Wow, he was certainly quite the intellectual.

“Well, allow me to elaborate. Anyone can become a mediocre artist if they try,” I began, “but yes, I agree with you, only a few are born with the promise of artistic greatness. I mean, someone like Coco Chanel could never become the next Van Gogh or Delacroix, it just isn't meant to be. That isn’t where her talents lie.”

The man's lips curved into a smile. I locked my attention on his lovely green eyes. We were closer than I had imagined. His breath was cascading across my face. I inhaled sharply. He smelt amazing, like an expensive floral fragrance. It crept into my head, confounding my already hazy thinking.

“I like you… Miss…”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”

His smile widened even more, splitting his face to reveal a stunning row of white teeth.

“What a gorgeous name... It’s fitting, a gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.”

His accent was dripping with charm. There was no way in hell this man didn't have a significant other. He was far too enticing and attractive to be single.

“You know, plenty of people wander these halls, knowing every name of every piece. Yet they don’t contemplate the true meaning of the art.”

His eyes were drawn to Liberty Leading the People. The man’s tone became somewhat agitated as he ran his tongue along his smooth bottom lip, his eyes narrowing.

“They only think about the art, they don’t contemplate it.”

He inhaled deeply, his chest softly rising and sinking beneath the pricey cloth.

“Thinking is simple, thinking is the most simple thing in the entire universe for humankind. Anyone can think, but not everyone can contemplate.”

I concur. It was pleasant to meet a thinker who cared so deeply about the beauty of art.

“Who’s your favorite painter?”

My face broke into a genuine smile.

“Paul Cezanne.”

“And why is that, Miss. Y/N Y/L/N.”

I adored how he said my name. It rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like butter on a hot pan. I could spend the entire day sitting next to him on a couch at the Louvre, listening to him utter my name.

“Well, because his distinct color-building technique and his analytical approach to nature had a great impact on the art of Cubists, Fauves, and many generations of avant-garde artists.”

I've never encountered somebody who would listen to my raving with such enthusiasm. And there was no one who properly comprehended my words and had the knowledge to respond intelligently. Not only on the subject of art, but also on the issue of life.

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, shooting a finger towards me.

“There it is!”

His hand fell to his lap.

“You, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, do not just think, you were born with the gift of careful contemplation.”

I'd dated a few men previously, but none had ever made me feel as great as this mysterious man. And I'd only known him for about 30 minutes. My eyes lit up with wonder when I heard his voice, and I hung on to every word with excitement.

“You have a dizzying intellect.”

His velvety tone dropped to an endearing whisper. My stomach flipped.

“It is very rare I meet a woman with such beauty, not only in her appearance, but in her demeanor as well.”

His long fingers pushed a stray hair behind my ear. I nearly flinched before realizing the gesture was benign. I could still feel his contact on my cheek after he removed his fingertips. He set fire to every nerve he came into contact with.

“Will you grant me the opportunity to become your acquaintance?”

His eyes were filled with anticipation. There it was, the date I'd been looking forward to throughout the duration of this conversation.

“I would like that very much Mr…”

“Vincent de Gramont.”

I hummed in delight.

“That’s a handsome name. It’s fitting, a handsome name for a handsome man.”

I said, slightly mocking his previous remark.

Vincent chuckled.

“Oh, you are a comedian as well. I like you more and more as time goes on.”

Vincent waited for a beat of silence before rising to his full height. Being the one seated while he stood certainly flipped the script. I felt small under his demeanor as his presence was felt throughout the room. He was comfortable in his own skin, demanding control of the atmosphere like a conductor.

“My bodyguards will ensure that you have all the information necessary to find my estate.”

Bodyguards?!

He indicated to two men in gray suits who were standing with their backs against the nearest maroon wall.

Wow.

I surely hoped they wouldn’t be hanging around when I finally seized the opportunity to speak with Vincent in private.

“Wonderful.”

“My estate is beautiful if I do have to say so myself. You will enjoy it.”

I can only imagine how magnificent his house was if this was the suit he decided to wear for a chance visit to a museum.

“There is lots of space, plenty of rooms to explore and places to sit and talk for hours.”

I couldn't keep a smile from breaking my face. Who would have guessed that when I walked into the Louver today, I'd walk out with a lovely new date?

“That sounds like a dream come true. I can’t wait to see it.”

Vincent returned my grin.

“I can not wait for you to see it. You will melt.”

He extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment before realizing he wanted me to lay my palm in his. Vincent leaned down and kissed the top of my hand in an exceedingly trendy gesture.

Wow, very gentlemanly.

If my cheeks weren’t pink before, they surely were bright red now.

“Thank you for granting me the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance, I look forward to seeing you around my estate.”

After his departure, I remained seated on the couch. I was unable to move, wanting to preserve the moment for as long as possible

[ittybittyremy]

Listening and reacting to the Ithaca sage because I can...

The Challenge

The violin is so beautiful omg

Oh the vibe change

Anna Lea's voice is gorgeous omg

Penelope's been waiting for so long, love her

NOT THE WAITING PART

Hold Them Down

The difference in the "where is he" in this song and legendary

Antinous' voice omg

I love ominous this song is

The way they describing chopping Telemachus up

The suitors' voice

Ayon Alexander's voice at the end, holy crap

OH THE BITCH IS DEAD

I can picture Odysseus listening to that entire conversation

Odysseus

Oooo he angry

FUCK THEM UP

HE'S BECOMING THE MONSTER

I love that you can hear the fear in the suitors' voice

Bro made the mistake of saying words "open arms"

NOT THE LEGENDARY INSTRUMENTAL

Telemachus??

TELEMACHUS NOOOO

NOT THE HOLD HIM DOWN

fuck these suitors

THE GUITAR IS DOPE

THAT'S MY KING

Odysseus you sexy man. I like a man that protects his family

I love the screaming so much. Such a great addition to the song

I Can't Help but Wonder

THE REUNION

MICO's voice is beautiful

I love how the songs have been able to introduce Telemachus so well

I'm crying in daddy issues

"sweetest joy i've known" ouchie

MICO and Jorge's voice mix so well

Athena?

ATHENA

I love the clock in the background. Is that meant to represent fast thinking

Would You Fall in Love With Me Again

I'm already crying

Oh this is so beautiful

My heart can't take this

The chorus hurts so good

He just wanted to come home

Jorge your voice is everything

THE BED

The guitar

Smart4Smart

She had to make sure it was him

Anna's voice is muah

THE WAITING AGAIN

I'M JUST A MAN INSTRUMENTAL

They're grieving over their lost time :(

"I love you" being the final words of the whole musical

[setevulpo]

obscura love interests as paintings!

hello, yes, this vn has consumed my days. have a healthy dose of artistic rambles relating to the love interests from someone who knows nothing about art, and enjoy!

the pictures are unfortunately only of details, because tumblr will crash and burn if i try putting all 15 full paintings in one post, but seriously. look up the paintings. they're so beautiful y'all.

divider by @/cafekitsune

keir

boy peeling fruit by michelangelo caravaggio! picked because it gave me chilling-after-work vibes and it's kinda domestic!

the shipwreck by claude-joseph vernet! it's the tragedy! the despair! the only thing you can do is help those who aren't dead yet!

the last day of pompeii by karl bryullov! yes. it's the same reason as above. add the impotence of being unable to stop what's causing it and muah! gold! also volcano.

cirrus

noli me tangere by titian vecellio! this painting is named after the biblical episode after jesus' resurrection, and it's symbolical of belief/love without a physical aspect to it.

death and life by gustav klimt! another one that is about a lack of physical union, but i also picked it because of the light and dark contrast between life and death.

the annunciation by henry ossawa tanner! it depicts the moment gabriel informed mary of her pregnancy, and it is very much about clarity and revelations, usually of the holy kind.

francesco

david with the head of goliath by michelangelo caravaggio! there are many theories about what this one is actually about, but one of them talks about caravaggio's youth ruining his chance at becoming old. do you see my vision.

by the sea by piet mondrian! this one is mostly about the vibes, it's very rich but also simplistic in a way?

roses, convolvulus, poppies, and other flowers in an urn on a stone ledge by rachel ruysch! a peony at the central point for love and wealth, foxglove that, despite symbolising deceit also leans into healing, the nasturium standing for victory despite struggles!

oleander

the aegean sea by frederic edwin church! a temple of bacchus and a double rainbow and the freedom of an open sea. there's something there i tell you.

cymon and iphigenia by frederic leighton! cymon gazes upon a sleeping iphigenia and is filled with inspiration of which he never knew before. it has a very warm feeling to it, and it is set at dusk in early autumn. also it's just pretty.

symphony in white, no.1 by james mcneill whistler! the original artist said that this painting had no deeper meaning, ominous much, but also it depicts a woman casually standing on a dead wolf, which is undeniably badass.

+ bonus! vesper

the first mourning by william-adolphe bouguereau! adam and eve mourning their son after he died! it looks beautiful and desperate and completely anguished.

descent into limbo by andrea mantegna! this one is all because of vesper going into the mountain not sorry at all. the man in the painting is begging for mercy or help or literally anything.

the death of adonis by peter paul rubens! someone died when they should have lived. someone died way before their time. vesper my beloved this will be you.

[its-elioo]

Incorrect quotes (RnM fanfic related)

Part 2, Part 3

Rainbow: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Sideswipe: What?

Rainbow: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Sideswipe: Can we go back to the part where you said “when I get murdered”?

-

Sunset: I want to be a caterpillar.

Optimus: Explain?

Sunset: Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful.

Optimus: You are aware that they have a lifespan of two to five weeks, correct?

Sunset: That’s another highlight.

Optimus: Sunset, no—

-

Bumblebee: I’m not mad, I just want to know why you need a fake ID.

Fluttershy: *mumbles*

Bumblebee: What was that?

Fluttershy: …You need to be over 18 at Petco to hold the puppies.

-

Optimus: You are very mature for your age, Sunset.

Sunset: Thanks, it’s the trauma.

-

Rainbow: Sibling relationships are weird.

Rainbow: Like, I’d give Sideswipe my life on a dangerous mission without a second thought but there’s no way in hell that I’d give him a single fry from my McDonald’s meal.

-

Rarity: *hurts herself*

Rarity: SH-oot!

*Knock Out and Sideswipe look at each other in confusion*

Sideswipe: What was that?

Rarity: I don’t swear.

Knock Out: Why not?

Rarity: It’s not ladylike. No well-mannered woman does it.

Rainbow: *walks by in the background and stubs her toe*

Rainbow: FUCK!

Rarity: …most of us anyway.

-

Twilight: Excuse me, who’s in charge here?

Ratchet: Well, usually whoever yells the loudest.

-

Rarity: We can’t kill him!

Knock Out: Not with that attitude, we can’t.

-

Fixit, gesturing to Twilight: Sir, that’s my emotional support human.

-

Pinkie: You call it a near death experience-

Rainbow: We call it a vibe check from God!

Ratchet: *optic twitches*

-

Sunset: When I asked if my day could get any worse it was rhetorical question. NOT A CHALLENGE!

-

Sunset: I stopped a murder today.

Optimus: Good job, Sunset. I’m proud of you. How did you do it?

Sunset, staring seriously and ominously at Optimus: Self-Control.

-

Bulkhead: What are your superpowers again?

Applejack: Super-strength, agility and stamina, yo mamma jokes-

Bulkhead: Yo mamma jokes?

Applejack: Well Bulk, I’m an orphan so they can’t say anything back.

Bulkhead: Kid—

-

Ratchet: How would you rate your pain?

Twilight: Zero stars, would not recommend.

-

Rainbow: Hey, Ratch.

Ratchet: *sighs* Yes?

Rainbow: If you say the words “control alt delete” do you just, like, straight up die?

Ratchet:

Ratchet: Every day I convince myself humans are intelligent life forms and every day I am proven wrong.

-

Sunset: I’m willing to do a lot of things.

Sunset: But admitting to Optimus that I’m cold after he told me to bring a jacket is not one of them.

-

Everyone else: Knock Out, no!

Knock Out: Knock Out, yes!

Rarity: Knock Out, no.

Knock Out: Knock Out, no.

-

Fluttershy: *staring blankly at a wall*

Bumblebee: Fluttershy? What’s wrong?

Fluttershy: Did you know that rap stands for ‘rhyme and poetry’?

Bumblebee:

Bumblebee: *sits down and joins Fluttershy in staring at the wall*

-

Arcee: You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt?

Twilight: No, no, no, I’m fine! Totally fine, no, no, I’m fine.

Arcee: Really? Because you’re repeating your words you look pale and you look like you’re about to topple over.

Twilight: Yeah, you might wanna catch me.

-

Twilight: [holds up a cauliflower in front of Ratchet] What is this?

Ratchet: … a cauliflower?

Twilight: [turns to Pinkie and Smokescreen] Okay, now tell him what you think it is.

Both: Ghost broccoli!

-

Rainbow: I’m ten times funnier than you.

Sideswipe: Ten times zero is still zero.

Rainbow: Well, jokes on you, I can’t do math.

-

Arcee: You’re up early this morning.

Twilight: …

Arcee: You never went to sleep, did you?

-

Rainbow: You’re an attention-seeker.

Sideswipe: What?! I’m the total opposite of an attention-seeker. I’m the best there ever is, I do not- hey, don’t look away when I’m talking here!

-

Knock Out: Do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you!

Knock Out: Please ask me to kill for you.

Rarity: …First of all, calm down.

[gretavanlace]

Beloved

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, dirty talk, light impact play, slight dom/sub vibe, digital penetration, implied unprotected sex, pet names, etc

Just a little blurb. Short and sweet…okay, maybe not sweet. Also, barely edited ❤️

Bent over the desk in his office, you quiver for the rasping voice floating through your head. A filthy satin ribbon roving through a sex drenched breeze.

“Touch her, bunny,” his fingers slip inside you, fluttering just enough to make your hips search for more. “Touch her just like I touch your pretty cunt, nice and slow. Be gentle with my girl.”

“Fuck, Jake,” you rest your fingers against the worn smooth wood of his guitar “harder, please”

“Ah ah ah,” he hums, tsking his sinful tongue at your ear just before nuzzling against your temple “you treat my baby sweet. Gotta be gentle with the beloved, and I’m gonna show you how. If you play her just right,” his touch swirls upward, stroking delicate circles right where you need him until you shake out a breath of a moan “yeah, if you play her just right, she makes the prettiest sounds”

“Fuck me,” your nails wisp over the sleek instrument he’s entrusted you with and he lands a stinging smack against the side of your thigh, scolding you, punishing you, nudging you closer to where you’d so love to go, with his tenderly harsh treatment.

“Watch your mouth, dirty girl,” he taunts, licking a slow path along the curve of your throat “and you watch how you touch my girl. Apologize.”

Your thighs are shaking, and slick with your need, desperate to spread wider for him, to beg him shamelessly with your body, but you are held fast, slung over the desk between his legs. “I’m sorry, Jake, I—“

His left hand tightens around the nape of your neck and his right plays leisurely between your thighs, tapping at your clit, nudging at your weeping entrance, taunting and toying. “Not to me, bun. Apologize to her.”

Down you go, guided by his grip, until your hitching breath is fanning over cherry wood “Kiss her better, tell her how badly you feel for mishandling her. She’s my baby, and you’re going to treat her as such. Look how beautiful she is, look how she curves,” his hand guides your palm up her side, but his other hand pets down the dip of your waist, proving where his touch really wants to linger.

“Right here,” he places your finger over a string “listen to the way she sighs music into the air when you play her right…” now his finger hovers over your slick, swollen clit, “there…”

A single circle of the ragged, calloused pad of his finger weakens you further “Don’t stop, Jake,” you whine, tears spilling slowly down your cheeks, creating wandering tracks to mark your need, for him to enjoy with those ravenous eyes of his “please, just a little more…I’m almost there. Fuck, please.”

“Please what?” He turns your head until your cheek rests against the pick guard, lipstick smearing across ruby wood.

You love this guitar. How could you not? The way he works his fingers over her so reverently, watching him seduce rock and roll wails out of strings and frets is almost holy, and yet deliciously unholy in a way that haunts your days during the most mundane of activities.

The way his hips grind and roll against her, fucking music into the air like some sadistic deity flaunting his talisman. The jealousy that flourishes in your soul for that inanimate object that he adores so…his beloved? Well, you’d never lay claim to it in a thousand years.

“Please, what?” He swats at you again, driving a quick slap into your ass and then groans a soft “look at that shit, bunny’s so fucking pretty.” almost to himself as he eyes the recoil.

“Fuck me,” it’s a whimper, an anguished prayer you’re afraid he won’t answer. “Fuck me, god please just fuck me.”

“Pick her up,” his demand is low in his throat, resounding through the room, an ominous tune…he is music, always.”

“What?” The velvety head of his cock - warm and plush, searching and circling - nudges at your cunt. “Don’t make me think right now.”

“Don’t make you think? Aw, why not? Is my little bunny cock drunk already? Not a thought in her pretty, pretty head? I’m not even inside you yet.”

“Don’t be mean,” it’s a meaningless request. You want him to be mean. You want him to treat you like a whore. His gentle wrath pairs so nicely with the delicate devotion that you know hides beneath. The love pours out of him, washing over you…a summer monsoon unleashed to cool and quench the boiling asphalt of your soul.

Even now, as his grip closes tightly around the back of your neck once more, with savage strength, you can feel that love. “I said, pick. her. up, bunny baby, don’t make me tell you again.”

Gingerly, you close your shaking hands around the neck of his Gibson, but he stops you short, scolding you like an unruly child as he kicks your legs open wider for him, still luring tiny whines from your lips with his beautiful cock, pulling it just out of reach each time you grind back in attempt to force him inside.

“Not by her neck.” He mouths at your neck, sucking you until you’re trembling “by her body, bunny. Careful, now…you know how much I love her.”

Tenderly as you might a newborn babe, you lift her up.

“Good girl,” his praise spins your head, and he pets your hair until you release a sound dangerously close to a purr. “That’s my good fucking girl. Hold her close, for me, bunny. Keep her safe while I fuck this pretty little cunt in two.”

[rowanthestrange]

The Master And Margarita Jacket

(Matthew Sweet’s Doctor Who version…but with a frisson of Bulgakov’s)

It’s done! With every bit of unphotographical glittery metallic paint that I can’t capture on camera even if my iphone skills weren’t rubbish.

@spoonietimelordy, @rearranging-deck-chairs, @bearinabandana and everyone else who Did The Reading of that one ‘I Am The Master’ novel but I’ve forgotten to tag because i’m so sleep deprived i can’t think any more but hopefully other people will, assemble!

Detailed closeups and explanations (with some spoilers) below:

Starting front top right side (face on). -Margarita herself, biting a mushroom. A more Cockatoo beak than Macaw, with red face instead of white, to make what exactly she is more mysterious. -The Master Who logo here is just gold, any shading didn’t look right when it was so thin.

Front top right pocket. Purple, of course.

-Next section down are these three. The ‘Never Stop Growing’ patch is my second favourite patch of the bunch. So many Master Themes, and plot relevant. -Then the little ‘Best Buds’ with the heart in the middle. I was inordinately proud of that idea. (Buds, budding, bigenerated vibe). -And then ‘Obscene Lotus’. That’s mentioned early in the book, and while it’s just described as a big purplish lotus, there’s so much sexual charging in that scene that, well, you gotta.

Me, reusing the ‘budding’ pun in a different capacity? It’s more likely than you think.

-The cover of the Penguin Clothbound Classic version of the original The Master And Margarita, that took multiple days to complete and so much agony. -The patch is a blank one that I bought, then painted the design to look like one of those stamps people sometimes put in books. Painted the border the same colour, then tea-stained it to look like old paper. Certainly in real life the colour comes out nicely. I couldn’t find his autograph (and sadly there’s an unrelated artist with the same name lol) but he got his doctorate in Wilkie Collins so I just looked up examples of that guy’s writing and tried to give it a bit of that vibe. Hopefully it’s the thought that counts. But hey, if anyone ever meets him and gets me a signature sample I can just redo it.

General mushroom patch - I like the fire kind of vibe and the looming.

To the other side!

So. You’re asking what’s with the daisy theme. Fair. So Margarita is also another name for a daisy in some languages. I choose to lean into that because it’s also the widely known symbol of Three - with that scene where he talks to Jo and recounts how a hermit living on a mountain helped dispel his depression by getting him to focus on the beauty of the flower (“and it was the most daisiest daisy”). Given that Three is essentially a character in the book, this felt like the vibe we’re going for. It’s perennial. It also is a healer of bruises and wounds, how can that not be relevant meta wise too to the Master’s new companion, hm? And okay yes, Mikhail does say he’s not a botanist, but if you can think of another way to get that message across other than botanical illustration page…

I like the patch because lightbulb, idea, full of mushrooms etc.

-‘I Am The Master’ being the name of the book the story is contained in, plus Fun With Identity. -Next the one bit of Real Art that I attempted to copy in glittery acrylics - Magritte’s ‘The Treachery Of Images’ or more commonly known ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’. The story not only of the Master’s experiences recently, but the story’s themes of hallucinations and deceptions; as well as being the symbol of Russian!Brigadier. -This patch is great isn’t it? A play on the Master’s apparent alcoholism or Russian blending in as you prefer, and of course, The Lighthouse of Martin!Doctor fame.

-Mikhail’s guitar for playing Brown Sugar and other ominous inference songs. -The formula triangle of Love, Food, and Music (I couldn’t think of a self-evident way to show his approach to food - Russian dumplings are, well, not exactly distinct). On its side so the glittery pink triangle points in a certain direction because he’s escaped places and I can do ominous inferences too Sweet. -Maybe controversial? There is a failed love story component in here though, that I just couldn’t leave unmarked. The Doctor, K’vo, and Jo all have their parts to play in that.

Now for the arms:

Here’s the right-side looking-on arm. -I repainted this mushroom patch to be the orange and green of K’vo’s. -You’ve already seen the long image of it above, so here’s just a snippet closeup of the motif that goes along both arms. Daisies linked in a chain with the words ‘daisiest daisy’ (if you wonder why everything’s outlined by the way, a) i like the style, and b) it makes glitter infinitely more legible and clearer to see if there’s a dark matt border around it breaking it up, especially with something as variable coloured as denim). There’s the sunflower in the middle because Margarita loves her sunflower seeds.

This is the other arm. Margarita holding a margarita in a margarita. What’s more to add? I used my shittest white (mixed with my fabric medium as everything else has been at every step) rather than @yesokayiknow’s excellent suggestion of Liquitex, which has saved me everywhere else, including those light patches. But here shitty kids basics acrylic is translucent enough to do some excellent work pretending to be glass and ice. The parrot patch has been altered to make the beak entirely black and her face red instead of macaw white, to keep her species ambiguous as literary theme demands.

To the back!

This Master Who logo is bigger, so it has the Master’s purple highlights like bruising.

Here is a small UNIT patch I modified to be a Russian one, globe focused on their continent (roughly). Sweet just translated the word ‘unit’ for Russian!Brigadier’s group, and the text is the re-cyrilliced version of that.

Skipping to the bottom…

Here referencing O’s collection of Doctor Information, Sweet adding to that with having distinct scrapbooks. ‘Manuscripts Don’t Burn’ is a line from Bulgakov’s The Master And Margarita (spoken by Satan in fact, mhmm) and became something of a rallying cry for oppressed Russian artists. I have ‘Author Unknown’ for the obvious meta with his and the Doctor’s memories, and likewise, the fact that flames are clearly present and burning lets the viewer come to whatever conclusion they like. #133 was chosen for the simple fact that in my copy of Bulgakov’s novel, and the one depicted on the front of the jacket, it is page 133 which starts the chapter The Hero Enters, where we meet The Master who has renounced all other names (who is very much, as Interference notes, the Doctor). They are glitter paint titles done on Hemline repair patches, black, brown, white, and navy blue. I know anything too painty on that area of the back will risk a lot of wear, and these are easily replaced when necessary (if still hours of lettering).

To the left most side…

This was the most expensive patch I bought, £12. But worth it. The mushroom stalk is silk.

Here I depicted in silhouette the scene of the Master climbing up to the Doctor on the giant mushroom. I chose silhouette so as not to draw the eye too much. I also added some 2ply black-black glitter cotton as part of his climbing equipment, attached on by some silver stitches for the…things I can’t remember the name of. It gives it a bit more 3D effect, but also keeps the thread close enough it shouldn’t pull on anything.

And at its base we have a reference to Mikhail’s chosen middle name. I chose to believe it’s relevant, Sweet’s too deep into this for it not to be. This is a cover I edited to highlight the namesake who actually travelled Russia and collected the tales of this book, and indeed, it does include the story of Koschei The Deathless. I edited the robe to be red instead of its original yellow, and added the quintessential Time Lord collar. But I think it’s perfectly passable. This is iron on transfer paper (dark) onto a very light grey polycotton to turn it into a patch. It…*cough* hasn’t had its edges finished or strictly been attached yet, but that’s a bit of handwork I can do as and when.

So finally back up to the middle

I’ve expanded out @spoonlesss-artbook fantastic angel-winged Margarita’s Master art. The Redbubble bag was only that big as it was (hemmed with bostik fabric glue like a true pro and attached as a panel) so it cut off a little, and it didn’t go the whole way anyway, so now we get some endings of the feathers, some all the way up to the arm of the jacket. I tried to blend it into the fire, one creature of both. And trying to get a multidimensional feel, boundary breaking. And again, very glittery irl so plays very well with the fire theme. It was fun when it came to colour-matching particularly the blue wing at the top, because the glitter gives it a bit of a sheen. I blunted it with a few careful washes of black so it still sparkles but is the right colour in most angles.

The Redbubble edit cuts @spoonietimelordy’s signature, so I copied it from the original and moved it over to the left side in some sparkly silver. Also internet doxxing my real life self on the bottom of the back as my own signature.

Doesn’t look like the sort of thing that would take weeks when you see it all together, but I’m really happy with it. I’m so grateful for everyone who’s shown their brilliant art to me and shared posts about painting all these years, cus it allowed me to absorb stuff and let me come out of the gate swinging! It feels thoroughly addictive. Even if I only know ‘use tiny brush’ for almost everything and glitter metallic is great for hiding sins. (And a ‘Ha!’ in the face of my mother keeping me away from it my whole life because of mess - I never got even a single speck on any clothes that wasn’t this jacket. I could’ve been doing this for years rather than just picking up a brush at the age of thirty-damn-one. But at least I’ve got it now).

And thanks to Matthew Sweet for feeding the worms in my brain too.