#to have at it with the devil. all he wanted was to tell the president to help these people who only suffer'??? extremely anakin

[maulfucker]

if you think about it (read: are insane in the exact same way as me) faroeste caboclo (the song) is kinda like anakin's life story except completely different

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bumblehoneybee]

OOOUHHGHG BEGGING (/nf!) FOR A PART THREE OF "Easy smiles/Easy on the eyes" PLEASE OUHHGHH MY HEART,, YOUR WRITING IS SO <33333

And AUGH some of the angst you've written . You're EVIL in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY. GRGGRGRGR

Easier Said Than Done

Warning: bad jokes

You were. . . pretty hard to pin down when Curly actually tried. It was easy to lose you, despite how you lit up the room. Smiles and snark and suddenly you slipped away right under his nose, with nothing more than a hello tossed his way.

It drove him crazy, cause he knew how you really were now. He knew you were witty, silly, eager to please and see the smiles of your fellow crew members, no matter the cost. But you never really tried anything with him, and he hated it, cause he also couldn't really try anything with you.

Not without being so creepy, the devil in his ear whispered.

So Curly did his best to be where you were when he could be, because if he couldn't interact with you, he'd like to see you interact with the others. Admire from afar what he couldn't have up close.

"So, like. . ." Daisuke drawled, faux innocence on his face as you crossed your arms. "I need. . . your shoelaces."

Your eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Cause I like them." Daisuke said, but there was a hesitance to his tone that Curly didn't understand. "And since you're the president, I wanna steal-"

"Don't you dare!" You shouted over him. "I don't want to hear that! You're so cringe, Daisuke!"

"You say you saw me, but what were you doing at the devil's sacrament!?"

The two of you descended into hysterics. Curly could only watch, utterly baffled by how such strange sentences could reduce you both into tears like this. It was too much to witness, and your smile was too wide and bright to ignore.

"What are you two talking about?" Curly asked.

You jolted up straight, eyes wide, cheeks going rosy. It was such a cute reaction, Curly couldn’t stare too long else he’d start blushing too.

“Don’t worry about it.” Daisuke said, wafting a hand. “It’s an inside joke.”

“A bad one.” You muttered.

“You laughed, didn’t you?”

“Speaking of!” Curly said, eager to join the conversation. If you liked bad jokes, he knew some! "Listen to this one!”

“This one?” Daisuke whispered to you.

“He’s got a joke.” You whispered back.

Thankfully, Curly didn’t hear you, already telling the joke.

“My ex-wife, she still misses me.” A large, goofy grin spread across his face. "But her aim is getting better!"

A brief lull of silence rang out as Curly puffed his chest out, obviously proud of that stupid joke. You slapped a hand over your mouth, barely containing a snort of laughter at Daisuke's expression, so. . . not impressed at all.

"Oof," he hissed, "oh man. . . So lame, Captain."

"Huh!?"

That was it. The dam burst, and you bent over, practically shrieking with laughter at the whole scene. Curly jumped back, but grinned, pleased to see that he made you laugh in some capacity. Your mirth made him want to laugh too, so he did.

"Ugh." Daisuke groaned. "You two are so lame! That joke was terrible. Hell, I bet even Swansea could tell a better joke than that!"

"I've got more!" Curly offered, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Later!" Daisuke shouted, already rushing out the door before he could hear anything more. "Don't kill 'em, Cap!"

"No promises!"

Another rush of giggles left you. Curly could only marvel at the flush of your face, the crows feet near your eyes and the smile lines around your mouth. It was gorgeous, exactly what he'd been vying for these past few days.

Jimmy didn't know what he was talking about. You were easy to talk to, and befriending you was going to be easy too. He just knew it.

[pomefioredove]

Can I have a chocolate cookie, #1, with frosting and chestnuts? :3

HEHE ofc! actually the first thing I've written in ages that I actually really like :3

order #1, chocolate with frosting, chestnuts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in sickness and in health

summary: just a little cold tropes: only one bed, sic fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, cuddling

Infernal cold.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Rollo coughs into the sleeve of his student council robes, snot and spit darkening the fabric.

He can't remember the last time he's been such a mess.

It must have been one of those Night Raven College devils. He hasn't been this sick since-

"President, you look unwell," his vice president says, hand on his hip. "Are you ill?"

"Absolutely not. I'm perfectly well,"

His voice is hoarse and scratchy. Each breath of cold air stings the back of his throat, and yet he can't breathe through his nose...

"You were up all night clearing the school of fire lotuses. You're exhausted," says his aide.

"I'm fine,"

"President,"

It's a losing battle (he just cannot win any, lately), and his defeat is spelled in the embers of the dying fire in his room.

The door is locked from the outside, a chair placed under its handle. To keep him in, as if he were an animal... though, it wasn't without reason. Rollo would work himself to death if he were allowed. Temperance has never been kind to him.

"Rollo?"

He jolts at the sound. Surprise is an odd look on the council president, but he's had a lot of it, lately.

Especially from you.

"What are you- who let you in here?" he asks. You look just miserable- tired and dull, sniffling and coughing just like...

...Well, him.

But, (and this is what Rollo was truly fixated on), you are miserable in his room. In his bed.

"Your, um... vice president put me in here. Quarantine. It's the only dorm room with a fireplace, for warmth, he said..."

Damn it.

"I see," Rollo sniffles, and dabs his handkerchief under his nose. "I'm sorry to hear that you're feeling unwell."

"You don't sound too good, either,"

True enough. Rollo allows himself the indulgence of sitting close to you, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"I seem to have come down with a cold, yes. Do your... friends know you're here?"

"I don't know,"

Good, he thinks. The last thing he needs is to be accused of holding their beloved pet prisoner in-

Rollo stiffens. He feels you tug at his sleeve again, thrice more, like a small child, or a petulant goat...

"What is it?" he asks, voice almost trembling, "Can I get you something?"

Another tug. You pull his hand out of his lap. You're asking him to come closer.

Rollo feels his body still.

If he weren't already so pale from sickness, he certainly would have gone white.

"...Is that truly what you want?"

You nod.

"What would your friends think?"

"They aren't here,"

Rollo's heart thrums in his chest. There's something so... satisfying about that. He wants to hear you say it again...

"Are you certain?"

"They won't know," you insist. "I think you need it, too."

Rollo would, in health and the right state of mind, dislike having such assumptions made about him. Even if they're entirely correct.

Luckily, he's not exactly lucid, and your offer is almost as tempting as the sight of the blankets over your body.

"Very well," he concedes, as if it were a chore, and he removes his shoes and hat and lies beside you.

It's as if you were never strangers. Or, perhaps, as if you were- as if you had just forgotten about all that he'd done and said in the past two days. Your arms come around his waist, holding him to you, your head on his shoulder.

His head on yours.

You're warm. So is he. It's the sickness, he tells himself, but he does allow himself this one fantasy, that your warmth is from each other.

"Comfortable?" he mutters. You nod against him.

"Hm. Then I'm pleased. I did say that I would make sure you enjoyed your time here, after all- in sickness and in health."

[rottenpumpkin13]

the higher-ups at shinra decided the company needed some comraderie, so had the bright idea to put on ✨️the great shinra bake-off✨️ where the winner gets an all expenses paid trip to costa del sol, everyone in the company is encouraged to enter.. what chaos ensues??

*Angeal is hunched over his workstation, sifting flour and watching Zack like a hawk*

Angeal: Zack, you can't just throw the eggs into the bowl like that. You have to crack them cleanly.

Zack: You're making me nervous! What if I want my cake to have texture?

Angeal: Save your creative expression for when you're decorating. Just focus on getting the basics right.

Zack: Oh, decorating will be easy! I got this awesome fondant that—ackhahkskhch

*Angeal is strangling him*

Angeal: You are a disgrace to the art of baking and the devil will visit you in your sleep tonight.

*Behind them, Genesis is piping an elaborate pattern of roses onto his three-tier masterpiece*

Genesis: Ah, perfection. My artistry knows no bounds. When the judges see this, they'll weep at its beauty. Loveless, Act V - Even if the morrow is barren of promises—

*A cupcake flies in out of nowhere and smacks Genesis' cake, ruining the icing*

Genesis: …

*Reno walks up*

Reno: Ah sorry, red. I was testing out my cupcake canon. Pretty sweet, huh? PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!

*Genesis proceeds to seek revenge by pursuing Reno with a butcher knife. Meanwhile, Sephiroth watches on as he whisks his batter*

Reeve: Hello, Sephiroth!

Sephiroth: Director Tuesti. I didn't realize you were participating.

Reeve: Oh, no, I'm not baking. I'm just here to observe and support.

*Cait Sith waddles by, carrying a tray of fern cakes*

Cait Sith: The higher Shinra climbs, the harder the fall! Mark my words, the President's gonna find himself at the sharp end o' justice soon enough, and it could be Masamune!

*Cait Sith walks away*

Sephiroth: ….

Reeve: :)

Sephiroth: What was that?

Reeve: What was what?

Sephiroth: That cat just issued me a rallying cry to assassinate the President.

Reeve: Oh, Sephiroth. You're working so hard on your baking that you're starting to see and hear things.

*Cait Sith walks by again*

Cait Sith: The President always takes the express elevator when he's had one too many whiskies. Disable the brakes an' let gravity do the dirty work!

*He walks away again*

Sephiroth: ….

Reeve: :)

Sephiroth: Why are you wearing wizard robes?

Reeve: Because the revolution is upon us.

*Meanwhile, Rufus is overseeing the whole event like an emperor, leaning back in his chair, sipping champagne*

Rufus: Tseng, do you think this whole event was a bad idea?

Tseng: Of course not, sir, You only ever have flawless, revolutionary ideas.

Rufus: Don't use our power imbalance to stroke my ego. Tell me the truth of what you think.

Tseng: I think you're a bastard.

Rufus: !? I meant about the event.

Tseng: I think you're a bastard who deserves to be shanked for putting everyone through this.

Rufus:

[natequarter]

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

considering changing my url but like what even to. yourbutchboyfriend?

💣 commiedyke Follow

DO ITTT

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

alright :3 here goes nothing

#anything for you

3 notes

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

man why does the doctor always act like i don't know what sex is? i'm 17 not 7 lol

🖋️ edwardianadvcnturess  Follow

He does the same with me! It's so utterly infuriating, why does he think just because I'm young I don't know what an orgy is?

🔫 thebrigadier Follow

I do believe he views all humans as deeply immature. I am nearing fifty now and he still patronises me whenever we meet.

❄️ icemaiden Follow

You're FIFTY??? No wonder the Doctor refuses to talk to you about such matters, that's practically cradle snatching. Or grooming.

⚰️ themaster Follow

hey didn't you lie about your age the first time you met the doctor? also you are literally 120. TIME TOT ☝️

❄️ icemaiden Follow

And you are literally a mass murderer. Go away.

⚰️ themaster Follow

you are like a little baby. watch this

*dies in his arms and he cries because he loves me unlike you who he could never love*

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

are you guys done yet or

#man what the fuck #is this like. time lord flirting

617 notes

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

Tell me why the Rassilon character study I was just reading has an author's note that says "Sorry I haven't updated in decades, I got kidnapped and tortured by Daleks for twenty years!" Are all Mo3 users like this or is it just r*negades

🧶 elizabethtudor-blog Follow

Isn't this what happened to the president of Gallifrey?

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

First of all, get off my post, I specifically have it in my DNI that humans are blocked on sight. Second of all,

WHAT?

👑 fred Follow

well what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament dare i ask

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

None of those words are in the Matrix.

#What in Rassilon's name is a sacrament

132 notes

🗡️ worsthumanongallifrey Follow

it's always the little things in life. for example today i discovered that the writer behind all those doctor/romana fics on mo3 is none other than romana herself

#but does she write anything about me #nooo #no she does not

550 notes

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Having a lovely coffee date with Harry to celebrate twenty years of the Doctor abandoning me! For some reason Harry hates it when I phrase things this way

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Only 3 people died this time, it sounds terrible but I was hoping for something more interesting in all honesty

#the cafe didn't even explode or anything this time round #last time we had to pick up the dismembered bits of several corpses. much more fun #on the other hand Harry had to take his shirt off today (long story) #so that was fun #I mean it wasn't even really necessary but shhh he doesn't need to know that #eternally glad someone else is willing to put up with my nonsense (exploding fish-puma alien hybrids)

12 notes

🚬 fitz-crier Follow

nneed himmto fied merinto a pjper shrrder thrgn eastthe paper until wahts ke and whsts him is indenifinsble

📺 compassion Follow

I think he should not do that. Get help.

1 note

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Repeat after me: your psychosexual obsession with an alien threat that wants to kill you is valid. Cosplaying as intergalactic mass murderers does not make you a bad person.

👑 fred Follow

if you make ONE MORE post glorifying cricket like this i may actually have to report you to the high council

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Wait Romana I didn't mean it I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I'll unexplode Adric please don't report me to the High Council

👑 fred Follow

i'm not angry, i'm just disappointed.

✈️ donewiththisshit573 Follow

I'm angry! Stop fucking bringing up Adric when clearly none of you care about him!

⚰️ themaster Follow

what she said. be psychosexually obsessed with ME please please pretty please. i'll treat you right i won't report you to the high council i won't even kill you a little bit this time

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

You are pathetic.

#if you died right now I wouldn't even be sad I would be overjoyed

467,343 notes

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE YOOJIN(EUGENE) HEADCANONS

I seriously PRAY for you if you have him after you, it's like you've received a death contract from the devil himself. One thing you cannot deny when it comes to him is his determination, when he's set out to do something, he WILL get it done, including of course, stalking you and finding out everything about you. You could either meet him in school when you both are in the same class, you make the unfortunate mistake of standing up for him when he's getting bullied and picked on by the other people and ever since then he decides to know everything about you. It's like the heavens itself sent him an angel, just for him. He lives in his own deluded little fantasy world where you belong to him 

Don't worry if you didn't get the memo, you'll get it soon enough right after he finishes ensuring that silly chemistry partner of yours disappears for good. Male or female, he doesn't give a damn. He doesn't like it when other people are too close to you for his liking. He got absolutely infuriated with that teacher pairing you with someone else other than him, how DARE that happen? You BELONG to him, his mind was working in overdrive, churning with less than savory and unpleasant thoughts but he still maintained his usual calm and stoic manner with his fake smile plastered across his smug face. I'm telling you, this guy is WAY WORSE than a serial killer, he'll have his own sadistic pleasure and fun toying with the person he's after and send the rest of the workers after that poor schmuck where Mandeok will resort to punching them in the face till they're knocked out cold and bloodied on the ground

If you're one of the Worker's and a part of the organization, he doesn't want you finding out about the dark secrets of the organization. He'll specifically warn the others to keep their mouths shut around you and anyone else who dares to slip something by mistake or accident, well... they'll be found dead in the next hour or so. He does NOT want his reputation getting tarnished in your eyes, you do mean a lot to him and he holds you in the highest regard even if he does want you chained up to his bed and be by his side at all times. He gets jealous really fast too but he doesn't really show it outside, he's managed to keep a check and control of his emotions. He'll have that unnerving fake smile plastered across his face as his eyes narrow coldly and he'll give a slight nod to his right hand man Mandeok to deal with the pest which he'll comply 

If you think he won't have files and files of information on you, you're mistaken. He'll send his brother Yuseong after you to find out more about you and he'll make him report EVERY single thing that you in your life, he feels like he's getting a glimpse into the window of your life and he'll use every single bit of information to his own advantage to pull the strings to manipulate you into getting you to be his since that's the kind of guy he is. He's really not above installing secret cameras in your own house either, he'll have a large storage of videos of you along with all your passwords, your search history...everything. When he does his research for you, he leaves no stone untouched, no possibility unchecked 

The other day Mitsuki made a slight joke of you competing in the circus and he almost blew a fuse and was on the verge of forgetting his politeness and was ready to strangle her. His eyes narrowed at her coldly as he spoke "Mitsuki... I do hope you did not forget your position here. You might be the President of the worker's second Affiliate but I am the chairman. Any more unsavory thoughts on the one I intend to pursue...let me assure you that the consequences for you will be dire'' he said in an ominous tone as his expression darkened at her. Mitsuki had no choice but to keep herself from spewing insults at him because he was right. Despite Eugene having a sadistic streak and persona inside him, he doesn't actually want to see you physically getting hurt. He'd rather resort to mind games and emotional manipulation instead of seeing you get hurt physically 

Look, he cares for you in his own twisted way. I'd say you'll be kidnapped by him after a week or two weeks. You'll wake up on a fancy bed with lush and posh furniture around as he enters the room and he'll caress your cheek with a sickly lovesick obsessive look in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're awake sweetheart...there'll be some new changes to your life now. You'll be mine now and there are some rules you'll have to follow'' he said. After your initial hysteria and panicking and demands to be set free, he'll just chuckle softly at you and look at you with an endearing look on his face like you just said something cute and adorable to him. "Let you go, darling, don't be silly...it's a dangerous world out there, I'm doing this to keep you safe. You wouldn't want to make me mad now do you...'' he said as he stared at you in amusement while he could see your will power and determination crumbling slightly as the moment passes by. He would be lying if he didn't like how helpless and scared and vulnerable you looked, on the contrary he actually enjoyed it 

He's going to enjoy breaking you and shaping you like a clay doll that'll obey his every word and wish. The only thing that's keeping you from loving him is your own self which he'll obviously has to deal with. He'll use your family and friends against you and each time you have tears streaming down your face he'll coo at you with mock sympathy and kiss your cheeks and dry your tears. He can't believe he has you in his arms, where you rightfully belong. For the love of god and your sanity, don't even think of trying to escape from him. You do NOT know to what extent he will go through to make your life hell. He'll have you dragged back by his brother Yuseong without saying a word and for the first time, even that fake smile of his disappeared and he'll give you a cold look which will fill you with a sense of dread for what's about to happen 

"This is for your own good darling...you need to learn you NEED me in your life'' he said as you'll be locked in a room and tied to the bed with silk ropes. He doesn't want to hurt you after all. But at the same time he also kind of does so...say goodbye to your friends and family I guess. Don't be too sad when you see their missing or dead bodies on the news channels the next day as he'll whisper in your ear how the whole thing could have been prevented had you not acted like a brat. He does have his soft moments with you at times. He likes talking to you about your day or about anything basically. He likes to spoil you with gifts and forehead kisses and cheek kisses too and pat you on the head like you're some kind of pet when you don't scream at him for 5 whole days. He also likes having you on his lap during his work and he WANTS people to know you're his and you belong to him, that way no one would have the guts to mess with him 

It's not like you can ask someone for help either, all the Workers are strictly loyal to him which makes sense since he IS the chairman after all. Yuseong will be your secret bodyguard, always watching your every move and snitching on you when he feels like you might plan to leave his brother. He would even resort to drugging you or sedating you to make you nice and pliant and obedient for him till your thoughts are occupied of him and only him...he's going to make you his in every way possible...

[reallyromealone]

can you do sanzu angst to fluff with a pregnant omega (third trimester) and his omega is annoyed / sad at the fact sanzu won’t do the “devils tango” with him anymore so his omega doubts his beauty and relationship with sanzu and gets really insecure but really sanzu is just scared about hurting his pup(s) now that they’re in the 3rd trimester ╥﹏╥

(you don’t have to write anything hardcore explicit at all, maybe just a reconcile with some flirtatious words at most if you want :D)

Warning: explicit conversation, male reader, mentions of sex, omegaverse, mpreg

Sanzu x male reader

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Every time like clockwork.

The two would be getting frisky and suddenly Sanzu would stop and looked uncomfortable whenever (name)s shirt would come off...then drown himself in work.

(Name) sat on their bed as he looked in the mirror, his large belly on full display with their twins, (name) in the starting stages of his third trimester and gently touched the stretch marks across his lower belly as if they would burn him if he put any pressure.

He could barely look at himself anymore, he felt gross... Even his alpha didn't want him.

Haru barely touched him, he must have been hideous to the pink haired man.

Why else would be look so freaked out when they would get intimate?

(Name) started wearing clothes that covered his belly, not hiding it as that was a challenge but concealing it more and didn't bother trying to get intimate with Haru as the Alpha worked later and later.

Haru came home exhausted as he saw his beloved in the kitchen, making a snack it seemed though the snack didn't look like what the Omega would typically have but he didn't question pregnancy.

Haru walked behind his mate, pumping out pharamones as he hugged (name) from behind, rumbling a bit as he kissed (name)s scent gland, the Omega letting out a distressed whine and Sanzu immediately looked worried, turning his mate to check him "who hurt you" he said seriously and (name) wanted to cry "alpha doesn't want me" he choked out, the mixed signals making the Omega stressed.

"What do you mean?" When it came to (name) Sanzu would immediately go from big scary vice president of Japan's most fearsome crime organization to doting worried alpha in seconds as he led (name) to the livingroom, the Omega sitting on the couch as Sanzu crouched before him and held his hands gently, looking at his beloved with worry "tell me what's going on" he said softly, thankful he went to those god forsaken classes to learn better communication skills for his mate and pups "whenever we do stuff you look horrified and pull away... I know I don't look how I looked before and I got stretch marks and I'm huge and--"" you think I'm not attracted to you?"

"You push me away the second I show my belly! Then you drown yourself in work! Why don't you want me?!" (Name) sobbed as he pulled away and hugged himself and Sanzu felt his heart break at this "you know how hard it is to hold back?"

"W-what?"

"You know how hard it is for me to not pin you down and fuck you stupid? To bend you and manhandle you till you're crying on my cock? How often I jerk off to the fact you're swollen with my kids? The cute tits you have?"

(Name) was beet red at this point "then why do you pull away?"

"I don't wanna hurt the pups, you're close to giving birth, I don't wanna fuck you injured" Sanzu said kissing his belly.

(Name) giggled at this and let Sanzu wipe away any tears "you're gonna be a good dad" (name) said sweetly and Sanzu kissed him gently "now I think it's time I remind my omega how sexy he is"

[fancyfeathers]

Could you do the lawyer of ADA, they deal with Dazai a lot. They managed to get taken by the Guild as a hostage, instead of freaking out they actually relax and treat it like a vacation. Some of the Guild members are confused until ADA calls them to negotiate but Dazai takes over asking about the legal ramifications of a fire he may have caused, but in his defense it was half on fire when he got involved. Fukuzawa grabs the phone off him and requests to speak to Fitzgerald. Instead of tea the lawyer asks for whiskey on rocks.

This has both platonic (children) and romantic (adults) yanderes

You could hear the irritating voice of Dazai from the other end of the the phone, he was so loud despite Fukuzawa having the phone. Fitzgerald sits on the couch across from you, and he even looked annoyed from hearing Dazai’s voice and he’s not even used to it like you. You could hear Fukuzawa’s voice, trying to negotiate with Fitzgerald dispute the chaos in the background. Fitzgerald rubbed his temples before cutting the president off.

“Listen old sport, let me think about your offer and you can call me back once you get a proper handle on your employees.” There was a brief noise on the other end of the line that sounded like yelling but it was cut off by Fitzgerald hanging up. He looked at you and shook his head with that charming smile. “I’ll be honest I don’t know how you deal with that all.”

“It takes the patience of a saint.”

“Then I must be the devil.” He waved over a maid in the room telling her to get him some tea and then he looked at you. “Would you like anything?”

“Whiskey.”

“This early?”

“After that headache I need it.”

Honestly being held captive, if you could call it that, by the Guild, was much better than the in and out of your job at the Armed Detective Agency. You have tried to quit in the past but somehow Dazai would be on the same train you took home, Kenji would run into you at the farmer’s market, or even the siblings at the convenience store by your house which was odd since you lived on the other end of the city that the Agency was on. Those were the milder cases, there were the other times where Kunikida would accidentally run into you in the middle of a job, or when you fell down the stairs in the park and Dr. Yosano just happened to be there. It felt like every misfortune in your life was tied to the agency and they were just pulling you back. Being held hostage was actually nice, sure you had to be under surveillance by some Guild member, normally this was one of two young men, John Steinbeck or Mark Twain, and they were nice enough. But honestly Fitzgerald had you treated very well, not like any other hostage situations you have been in.

“Well while they pull themselves together I have a proposal for you.” Fitzgerald said as the maid went to get your drinks. “The only real reason you’re here is because that’s the only way I could discuss this with you.”

“Smart, but the legal ramifications of it will be-“

“Extreme, I can deal with that, nothing a bit of money can’t erase.” He cut you off, chuckling under his breath. “You know the dirt of the Armed Detective Agency, if you start working for me I can get you out.”

“You want me to betray the agency?”

“I’ve seen your employment records, you have quit from there multiple times, but have always come back within two weeks. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re trapped and want to get out.”

He was right, you couldn’t even lie about that. You wanted to get out, the detective agency was only going to be a temporary job while you discussed potential employment with law firms in Yokohama and even Tokyo. Those few weeks turned into months, and those months into years, and not one of those law firms wanted to take you, almost that they were afraid of you. You had your suspicions after Dazai was smiling a little too wide after you received another letter of rejection, but you could never confirm it. Your hands curled into fists, grabbing the fabric of the skirt you were wearing.

“…that’s correct.”

“I thought so, well if you agree to this, you will be free from the agency, I will be sure to get U.S. citizenship for you within the week if you so wish for it, and law firms lined up with jobs for you, or if you’d like you could continue work for the Guild and you could have more money than you would know what to do with.” The maid finally came, setting your drinks on the coffee table between the two of you. Fitzgerald picks up your drink and hands it to you and then his cup of tea and takes a long sip. “You’re free to reject, but if you do you’ll have to deal with the agency again, likely for the rest of your life-”

“Deal.” You never answered faster in your life, if you got away from the agency you would be free to spend your life how you wanted. Fitzgerald smiled, but his eyes had a dangerous glint to them.

“Prove it.”

He wanted dirt, so what could you give them? Kenji, Kunikida, Atsushi, Ranpo, and the Tanizaki siblings had next to nothing on them, The President had his past as an assassin, then Yosano who had a bit of a past in the war, there was Dazai with- actually you wouldn’t dare expose that out of fear for your life. Who was left?

Your stomach sank in realization…

But you couldn’t keep living like this…

“Kyoka Izumi, she used to be in the Port Mafia, she was used as an assassin due to her ability and killed a total of 35 people in 6 months.”

You heard the phone ring again, as if almost on cue with your words. You jumped slightly as if you got caught exposing your deepest darkest secret. You watched as Fitzgerald leaned over and picked up the phone and answered as you sipped on your drink in an attempt to calm your nerves. You could hear Fukuzawa say something on the other end of the line, something about an amount of money but Fitzgerald cut him off.

“There has been some changes to the deal old sport, see it seems Miss (Name) doesn’t want to work for you anymore so I have no use for her a hostage anymore.” You watched as Fitzgerald reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun, you felt like you were about to be sick. He did not aim it at you though, just at a wall and he shot it off… he made it seem like you died. “Goodbye.”

You could hear the yelling like last time on the other end of the line as he hung up, only now it was panicked and worried, but no matter how much you tried you couldn’t make out the voice of Dazai, that alone made you scared.

Fitzgerald picked up his tea cup again and raised it up in a toast. “Here to new beings.”

With your mind being elsewhere, both in fear, guilt, and relief, you could only manage a small. “ya.”

You did not know what would happen next but at least now you were free, you had your life back again and that was worth celebrating…

“Welcome to the Guild, Miss (Name).”

[operationslipperypuppet]

to expand lightly on my theory post regarding some of what might be afoot this season (devised and parsed through in collaboration with @stone-stars)

the actions against cassandra and kristen are a revenge plot, orchestrated by a combination of sol, galicaea, and helio. they each have their own vendettas contributing to this. sol has beef with kristen due to the “wholeheartedly reject all offers” scene, where he does turn on her first. he also was incapacitated in freshman year because she let aguefort into his domain. i imagine a sun god isn’t super pleased that there were 4 months of endless night. he also might not like cassandra due to who she used to be. helio once chose kristen and continued to supply her with spells despite her rejection of him and his teachings. she refused to spend any time with him and literally punched him in the face. he’s got some baggage there, for sure. galicaea experienced the first time kristen and cassandra connected, her attempt at convincing kristen was disrupted by the goddess eventually known as cassandra. her followers were responsible for killing the initial version of cassandra. her followers are now facing a revival due to tracker’s pilgrimage (kristen’s ex) and she’s just petty enough to blame kristen for that. plus, her snooty self hated her wolfy side. this revival would arguably make the snootier elves double down on that hatred. as above, so below.

the goings on against fig and the establishment of her cool new horrible luck are probably coming from a devil. the pride armor vision showed that it had ties to that sort of thing. and devils are lawful. fig is not. her ascension into the seat of the bottomless pit was on a technicality and the people who presided over it immediately hated that it happened. she’s been busy (she’s a mortal teen attempting to save the world) and has neglected her hellish domain on a similar level to her father, who lost his job about it. the lawful operatives running hell would not take kindly to that. so they could (would) reach out to her in a moment of her weakness and hand off a curse, as punishment. because hell is also about punishment.

now, i’m sure you’re thinking: why are these in the same post? easy. because i think they’re connected.

the rage stones that were corrupting cassandra and the mages were similar to what happened to ragh’s mom, as zac figured out. lydia is in a medically prolonged state of rage to keep the devil in her chest at bay. (there are some discrepancies over whether it’s a devil or a demon. but i trust ragh to know those minor details over arthur “i forgot to tell lydia i was doing this” aguefort). if something kept back by a prolonged state of rage was given leave to attempt its influence on something (on the astral plane, no less, where rules are almost always different), perhaps its influence would be rage inducing. and, just as she was taken over by one of these stones, kalina, who knew about lydia’s status in sophomore year since she did try to kill lydia, called out “ragh barkrock!”, bringing up another clear and direct connection.

the nightmare king sided with demons during the blood wars. the devils trapped the nightmare king in the forest (this is why arianwen needed gorthalax and why fig’s promotion was vital to their success). the devils would probably want to fight back. the gods we’ve met would probably dislike the imbalance that comes from establishing a new god, especially one who is a riff on one they already destroyed (cassandra establishes that she is not the same goddess she was before her sister killed her. but there have to be similarities. and maybe galicaea doesn’t know that).

the first time we meet our beloved garthy o’brien, they talk about how devils (they say fiends but are explicitly talking about devils and not demons) and celestials and gods are not simply opposed. they’re part of a system that balances out all its parts. angels fall. devils could rise. they work together as part of a bigger system.

so. so. if two specific mortals and their merry band of idiot friends are in direct opposition to some of the most powerful and petty entities in the universe, would they not want to perhaps join forces to attempt to take them down? especially if it could come from freeing one (“important”) devil from decades of being trapped, restoring balance further?

bonus here is the idea that bill seacaster’s goal in hell is to “kill the devil himself”, and perhaps he’s getting too close for comfort and balance must be maintained somehow. and what better way to distract him than by threatening his son?

plus, we know cassandra’s “i thought you were dead” wasn’t directed at kalina or the nightmare king. but maybe, in her brief time back as a god, she noticed the absence of a particular devil. and thought they might have died, when they were actually just trapped.

all that being said, it’s a fun theory to me and maybe we’re completely wrong. but everything we thought about more made it make more sense, which is a wild experience.

[artfulacrostic]

had my second high definition viewing of atsv in the theater today and here are my favorite details that i missed due to being overwhelmed on my first viewing:

LONG AF POST:

-gwen is literally wearing a rainbow shaped trans pride pin on her jacket with her prom outfit. she's soooo so canon trans <3

-captain stacy HAS A TRANS FLAG PATCH ON HIS POLICE UNIFORM JACKET?????? when i'm telling u my eyes popped out of my head 😳 SHES SO CANON TRANS!!!

-poster outside miles's guidance counselor's office reads: "visions sciences: telling you your story".

-parallel of miles's and gwen's dad kicking things out of general exasperation towards the beginning and end of the movie respectively

-when miles as spidey is talking to his dad and giving him advice (for himself) there's a reference to miles possibly reading vonnegut? (maybe in class??) "if this isn't nice what is" is a collection of kurt vonnegut's commencement speeches. (literally subtitled "advice to the young". the writers were extremely clever for this reference. if not reading it in class, miles has been searching up life advice on his own)

-i barely caught this but i'm PRETTY sure that in miles' room near his door there's a MICHELLE OBAMA presidential race sticker??? was president obama in the earth-1610 dimension michelle obama?? iconic if so

-fedex on earth-1610 is REDEX

-gayatri seems like they took elements of both gwen (police dad) and mj (young model) for her background as i believe i caught her visible on a "zomato" ad billboard (which appears to be the earth-50101 version of ubereats)

-i spent all of hobie's scenes trying to pick up the details of his many pins; but the only one that i could really make out with the quick shot changes besides the union jack pin was the one right above it, which is a three-leaf clover. i wondered if maybe it had some kind of significance to maybe irish independence or smth but i couldn't find anything online that backed that up so not sure what it means. if u know pls drop it in the replies.

-hobie's boots are definitely NOT ladder laced. i KNOW there is concept art and poster art of him with ladder laces but in the actual movie they are 100% crossed. also unlike the poster art, both boots have blue laces, not one blue, one yellow/orange. i wanted to be all on board the ladder lace code train but i'm pretty sure they just made his laces blue so that they could contrast against the red boots and be spidey colors. they probably abandoned the ladder lace part of the visual when someone realized what blue ladder laces meant in lace code. "HAS hobie killed a cop," you ask? given his comic backstory i'd say the odds are HIGH. but i would bet they didn't want people to think that since he's gone through canon event asm-90 ("a police captain close to spider-man is killed by falling rubble during a battle with a nemesis") that there's any possibility THAT was the cop he killed and he's proud of it (since it's supposed to be all abt character development from the ✨trauma✨ of the event)

-during the whole "intervention" scene, while all the other spider-people are facing directly in towards miles and miguel from wherever they are standing in the circle, hobie is the only one whose back is turned. he watches most of the scene over his shoulder. also, during a couple shots facing miles before the entire society of spiders show up, hobie is separated in the shot from all the other main spiders (Peter B, Gwen, Jess, etc) BY MILES. he is visible over one shoulder and everybody else is visible over the other. these two details are great signals of hobie having already MORALLY turned his back on miguel's authoritarianism, as well as giving a nice inverted "devil/angel on the shoulders" nod.

-peter b asks miguel to take a picture of him and mayday since it's her first chase; miguel brushes him off but mayday understands and uses her webshooter to click the camera button on peter b's phone and take a selfie without him noticing 😂😂😂 shes everything to me

-when miguel is pinning miles to the train, after gwen and peter b have caught up, there is a very fast moment when miles calls for help ("PETER!!") and peter doesn't reply to him, but calls out to miguel to calm down (smth like that) instead 🥲 peter for the love of god step up your mentor game and look out for this kid i can't handle it anymore

-when gwen takes the watch hobie made her out of the box, the screen is briefly visible and reads "project botleg". bootleg -> bot -> "botleg"; I SEE YOU HOBIE. people think he's so cool (and he is!!) but he's also just as much of a dork as all the other spiders. what a goofball

-in miles-42's room, a speed bag/speed ball/maize ball is attached to his wall near the door. there are other substantial differences to their rooms, but i think this is clearly a reference to uncle aaron-42's large presence in miles-42's life, given the association from both movies of aaron with the punching bag and miles getting guidance from him/looking to him for support.

-in addition to all the miles-1610 vs miles-42 prowler vs spidey reflection imagery in the end credits, guess who else has several moments of flashing from spider-man colors (red and black at least) to prowler colors (purple and green)?? miguel, that's who. miguel and miles-42/uncle aaron-42 team-up in beyond the spiderverse? or just an extra parallel for the antagonists sharing goals/possibly methods?

OKAY ANYWAY if ppl want i can try and dig up images of some of these but i figured that would make this post long af so that's all for now folks!! go see across the spider verse again and marvel at how much more fine detail you find like me 🕸🕸🕸

[alexa-yukiyu]

Locked Database ( Mihawk x f!reader x Crocodile)

A/N yoooooo, I spent yesterday and today makind this, got stuck a lot but I was determined to make it happened. This one is darker than what you guys are used from me but I wanted feedback that part of me a little bit. Million thanks to @quinloki and @💧Anon for giving me inspiration and ideas for this 👀.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha as a place holder which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“You sure stand out, don’t you, Mr. President?” Crocodile growled, shoving the newly distributed paper on Buggy’s Throat

“It wasn’t me, I swear,” he cries

“Then how the hell do you explain it?” He said, sending a swift kick his way, ignoring the pain-filled groan that escaped him.

“I should kill you for that, clown,” he said, inching his hook closer to his neck, pausing as a knife was sent his way, passing right through his sandy body.

Mihawk continued sipping on his wine as a knife was sent his way, simply edging away slightly to avoid it, yellow irises narrowing at a woman standing before them

“Leave him alone,” she growls, a pistol drawn and pointed their way

“Dokucha” Cries Buggy

“Mr.1,” Crocodile calls, dismissedly

“Let him go,” she demanded, breath hitching as an arm wrapped around her neck, a sharp edge to it.

“Drop the weapon,” a voice grumbled behind her.

She grits her teeth, complying as the hold around her tightened, the blade digging into her skin.

“Who are you?” Crocodile asks, raising an eyebrow when his question goes unanswered.

Mihawk takes notice of this and places his wine down, and in one swift movement, takes hold of Yoru and places the sharp edge against Buggy’s neck

“Stop!” She said, trying to make a run towards him being held back by the person behind her

“Who are are you?” Mihawk Drawls

“…”

He quirks a brow at this, digging his sword closer to the Buggy, receiving a whine from the severed head

“Im his sister,” she growls

“Of this clown?” Mihawk inquires, glancing at her

“Dokucha, don’t! You moron, get out of here!” The clown pleads

“Not without you.”

“Wonder if selling you into slavery will be able to get me back all the money this one owes me.”

“Don’t touch h- Agh,” he groans as Crocodile tightens his hold on him

“Perhaps the money she gets us will be enough so we don’t have to sell you, then we can kill you here and now.”

“W-Wait” she exclaims

“You’re starting to annoy me.”

“You said you were starting a new business, right?”

He hums, gesturing to the person behind them

She sighs as the person releases her

“I'm a prodigy at statistics and economy.” She starts

“I have the ability of a devil fruit aiding me as well, makes me a human database, I can calculate in seconds, provide prognostics just as fast, I can reach valuable contacts, gather the information you can only imagine, run enough statistics to power enterprises ”she continued, getting on her knees in front of them

“I know he is an idiot, but he is still my brother; please spare him. I will work for your company; I can easily raise it and make it a formidable force, so please don’t kill my brother.” she spoke bowing her head

Mihawk takes a glance over at the begging woman

“Come here.”

She looked up at the swordsman, slowly getting up and approaching the men

“If you truly are related to this one, then you have to prove your worth,” Crocodile said, pulling out a paper and handing it to her

“These are the current funds we have. Thanks to your brother, we also have the investments we must make for the guild. Tell me how you would make it work.”

She gingerly took the paper and looked it over, her brain beginning to perform calculations, pulling information and strategies from the network, trying to find the best fit

“Well?”

“First, I would take into account the possible outcomes and expenses of these upcoming investments and create an estimated balance sheet of the income and expenses that will be generated as opposed to current investments. After that, I will assess the risk that will be involved with each expected investment and determine the expected rate of return. Additionally, I will create a comprehensive budget and forecast for expected revenues and expenses to ensure that the guild has enough resources to carry out its operations while remaining solvent. I would move funds between areas they are more needed in, I would eliminate funds given to man-power and employees to the guild; my brother has no shortage of workers, so that is something the funds should not be wasted in," she rambles

Crocodile stares at her for a few seconds until an ominous laugh escapes him

“Well, Well, seems one of the siblings is actually competent.” He stays with a grin, letting out a cloud of smoke

“Why would a smart thing like you sacrifice yourself for him?”

“Are you deaf? He is my brother, an idiot, but still my brother; I'm not leaving him to die to the likes of you.”

“That so?”

“Yes,” she growls

He hums, sending a kick to the body in front of him, the smile growing on his face at the painful whines that escaped Buggy as he did so

“Why would you do that?!” She cries, bending down to help her brother, only to stop as a sword is placed at her neck, silently urging her to rise again

She throws a glance at Mihawk as she slowly stands up again

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t appreciate the tone you are taking; if memory serves me correctly, You were the one who got on their knees begging for mercy, and we heard your plea, and in return, you insulted us?” He spoke, raising Yoru and letting a small smile as Dokucha tried to rise with it to avoid being nicked

“Don’t touch her, please! Spare her!”

Crocodile grunts, growing tired of the bluehead’s whines and sending his hook smashing to his temple, knocking him out

“Buggy!” Dokusha cried, hissing when the sword dug into her skin as she tried to step closer to her brother

“Now we can have a talk without that clown interrupting,” Crocodile spoke, letting out another train of smoke escape him

“Need I remind you that you are not the one at the advantage here, Darling?” he began leaning back

“You are outwitted, outnumbered, and outpowered; you stand no chance to leave of this unharmed, much less that brother of yours; we decided to hear your deal out but never said we would agree.”

“…”

“You certainly are an asset, and now that we know what you are capable of, we can’t allow you to leave.”

“We will spare his life; we will let him become the figurehead of crossguild, make him the scapegoat.” Mihawk continues

“A coward like him is sure to obey without complaint, especially with you in the picture. But that also brings us to you,” Crocodile spoke, looking at her mockingly. Turning to one of his subordinates and began to mutter some orders to them

“Eyes on me,” Mihawk called, pulling her attention away from the scarred man and back to him

“Seems you have more common sense and pride than him, but don’t forget where you stand.”

She grits her teeth, holding back her tongue from snapping back at him, knowing that no matter what she said, no matter what came out her mouth, he was not wrong. Her ability was the only thing keeping her alive and on their radar; she wasn’t and probably would never be a significant threat to the two Warlords.

He smiles at this

“Down,” he orders

“I ‘m not a damn mutt.”

“Yes, a dog wouldn't be this much trouble to train,” he muses

“You da-

“Down, girl,” he repeats, a firmer tone in his voice

She glares at him as she eventually does as he wants and kneels on the ground in front of them

“That will do,” she hears Crocodile mutter as the subordinate returns with something in his hands; she tries to turn to asses what the item

Was but was stopped by the sword again

“Eyes on me,” the swordsman repeats

“You have no idea what you are dealing with,” she sneers

“We do. Thanks to your pleas and little demonstration we do, and that’s why we will take precautions,” the familiar voice of Crocodile rumbles behind her; before she jad time to register his words, the sound of something snapping, and the slight weight on her shoulders answer her question

“You have quite the ability; we can’t have you trying to communicate with someone who would create a problem for us or divulging important information, so from now on, we get to decide when and how you use that devil fruit of yours.”

A feeling of dread envelops her as she tries to enter her mindscape only to be unable to find anything

“Sea stone,” Crocodile confirms

“As I said, we get to decide when and how you use it from now on, little Plover.”

“So let’s talk about what is going to happen now”

This just makes me feel some sorta waaay, what are we thinking @quinloki i, @💧anon? I am having the time of my life with this one 😂. So proud of that last part with Mihawk, really like how it turned out. Also ya’ll if that small statistic/economy talk din’t make any sense it’s because I have no idea what the hell im talking about 😂 I just used fancy words I heard my dad use, since he is a banker I figured they would fit the context.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[alchemyfire]

This all makes me so sad...

Here are a few excerpts from the book about the Festival of the Supreme Being, that break my heart.

-----

According to contemporary sources, it was during the actual procession that some of the most severe personal attacks on Robespierre were launched. As President of the Convention, Robespierre was to march at the head of that body but, whether deliberately or not, he finished up marching alone and at some distance from his fellows. This opportunity to attack him directly and personally was seized upon by his opponents, since any remarks made in the open air would not give Robespierre the same facility of denouncing them as if they had dared to express the same sentiments in the Convention or at the Jacobin Club. The clearest account is that by Marc-Antoine Baudot, the representative of the Saône-et Loire, who wrote in his Notes Historiques, re-published by Edgar Quinet's widow in 1893:

There were more than eight people in the ranks between myself and Robespierre; I heard all the curses. They came from Thirion, from Montaut, from Ruamps and above all from Lecointre de Versailles, who more than twenty times called Robespierre 'Dictator! Tyrant!' and threatened to assassinate him... among those cursing Robespierre during the procession I would especially single out Thirion, Ruamps, Montaut, Duhem, Lecointre de Versailles and Baudot.

These members of the Convention had good reasons to both dislike and fear Robespierre. Thirion, Lecointre and Ruamps had been associated with the Indulgents; Robespierre had forced Duhem's exclusion from the Jacobin Club on 22 Frimaire, and had openly treated Montaut, a ci-devant Marquis noted for his extremist views, with disdain. Later, on 11 Thermidor, Lecointre published a mémoire in which he boasted of his intention to have had Robespierre assassinated during the Festival, naming his co-conspirators as Barras, Fréron, Courtois, Garnier de l'Aube, Rovère, Thirion, Tallien and Guffroy. In his description of the festival, Ruault says in a letter dated 2 Messidor 'that madman Lecointre de Versailles had formed the intention of sacrificing in the name of God and the Country the great president on the day of the Festival in the Champ de Mars, on the altar raised to the Patrie´. If Robespierre was affected by these insults he showed no reaction at the time. It was only in his last speech to the Convention on 8 Thermidor that he ever referred to the insults offered him on the day of the Festival.

...

During the celebrations at the Mountain Robespierre came in for further verbal attack. One of the most famous was, accoridng to Michelet, spoken by an unnamed sans-cullote: ´The devil! He isn´t happy to be the master, he wants to play God!´ Gorce ascribes the same words to Thuriot while Vilate ascribes a very similar remark, ´It´s not enough for him to be High Priest, he wants to be God!´ to Bourdon de l´Oise. The other equally famous remark is generally ascribed to another of Robespierre´s opponents, Merlin de Thionville, ´the Tarpean rocks are right by the Capitol´, obviously intended to remind Robespierre of the fate which had awaited unpopular legislators in Republican Rome. This time, Robespierre certainly heard the insults, even if he chose not to respond immediately. Guillaume quotes from a note in Robespierre´s private papers on the behaviour of Bourdon de l´Oise in which he accused Bourdon of expressing gross sarcasm and indecent references to the proclamation of the Supreme Being and of telling other members of the Convention that the people ´scorned this decree´.

...

There can be no doubt as to the success of the day as far as the organisation and the Festival itself were concerned. Every contemporary commentator, even such vilifiers of Robespierre as Vilate and Ruault, was full of praise for the celebrations themselves and expressed general approval of the idea of honouring a Supreme Being. The weather had been perfect, an ideal summer day. The sections too clearly enjoyed themselves, both in the formal events of the day and later in their more informal local celebrations. It would seem that Robespierre, despite the public attacks on him by some members of the Convention, could be pleased with the spectacle of the population of the capital apparently accepting wholeheartedly their joining together to honour the Supreme Being. At that level, it is clear that the day had been a complete success, everyone had enjoyed themselves and the idea of the Supreme Being, as a potential national belief system, was up and running. Yet it is one thing to have a great festival which, for a brief span, apparently unites the whole nation in joyful celebration, and quite another to lay the groundwork for something which, if successful, would become an intrinsic part of national life.

While it might have been expected that, following the success of the great festival the new belief system would be incorporated into the life of the nation as quickly and as deeply as possible, this simply did not happen. The vilifying comments of Robespierre's political opponents, despite their assertion that they were not attacking the idea of the Supreme Being as such, led inescapably to it being seen merely as the vehicle for the self-aggrandisement of its chief advocate and any hope of a new national morality, based on the acceptance of the presence of the Supreme Being, disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared.

----Extracts from the book Robespierre and the Festival of the Supreme Being by Jonathan Smyth

Hmm... or in other words: how to ruin something beautiful with stupidity.

Isn't Bourdon the guy from Danton movie played by the same actor as Maxime in LRF?

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 9

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: screaming, crying, throwing up. i hope you guys enjoy this part as much as i do. also, sorry for the hiatus. i kind of got distracted with life. anyhoo. also. not proofed.

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

previous part | series masterlist | next part

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.

Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.

Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.

“It’s Y/N.”

—

“Y/N’s alive?” Sam asks, but it’s mostly rhetorical. Fury and Coulson are the only ones who are not surprised.

“Agent Y/L/N-Barnes seems to be alive, yes. Of course, there is always the possibility that it’s a mask,” Coulson says.

“It has to be her,” Bucky mumbles to himself, focusing hard on the stilled image of you. He has believed you’re alive against all hope for months, and here you are, escaping Capital Hill.

“But if she’s alive, and if she’s the one killing U.S. politicians, then is she working with HYDRA?” Sam asks, anxiously eyeing Bucky.

Fury sighs, “We don’t know. All we know is that we need to stop her before word that an Avenger killed the president gets out.”

Bucky speaks up then.

“She’s not working for HYDRA. She wouldn’t do that.”

Tony sends Bucky a sympathetic look before playing devil’s advocate.

“We can’t know that. It’s out of character, but we never know how much HYDRA is truly capable of. They brainwashed you, so who’s to say they didn’t her?”

The room is tense, and Bucky is acutely aware that the team, his friends, are sympathetic. They’re sympathetic because they agree with Tony. Bucky shakes his head.

“That took years to program The Winter Soldier,” Bucky says cautiously, “and Y/N has a hell of a lot more to fight for than I did. If she’s working for HYDRA, then she’s playing an angle. Don’t you think it’s odd they let Bec go so easily? She had to have struck a deal.”

“Then why doesn’t she escape?” Natasha muses, but her tone tells Bucky she’s simply wondering aloud.

“Well, we wondered why she didn’t contact us through her phone,” Clint reminds. “Turned out she had a plan there; she led us right to the Siberian facility.”

Bucky shoots Clint an appreciative nod.

“Becca did say that they wanted her until Y/N struck a deal with them,” Steve remembers.

The room turns to look at him.

“We didn’t know what to do with that before now. We thought Y/N was dead, but if they faked her death, then that gets us off their backs to have her do what they want.”

“Still,” Sam says, “why not run?”

“They’re probably keeping a close eye on her. On us, even. She would run unless they have something to hold over her,” Natasha points out.

The team gets quiet for a while; everyone gets lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Fury breaks the silence.

“We don’t know who else HYDRA is targeting, but we imagine there are more assassinations planned.”

—

“Alright, so, it’s settled,” Tony says.

The team had spent hours devising a plan to rescue Y/N, anxiously and meticulously going over every detail and turning over every rock.

The Avengers let out a breath they weren’t aware they were holding. At this point, as if on cue, however, Coulson enters the conference room he and Fury had vacated hours ago.

“Coulson?” Steve asks, eyebrows raising at the appearance of the agent.

Coulson nods in acknowledgement, a tight smile spreading upon his lips.

“Stark, can you pull up the security camera footage for the complex?” Coulson asks, staring at the screen showing your SHIELD ID photo, background, skill set, and a list of the crimes you’ve committed up to this point.

Tony nods, voicelessly tapping at the device in front of him, pulling up the cameras. The screen changes from SHIELD’s information on you to a split of each of the complex’s cameras. Coulson takes a step forward, staring at the screen, analyzing it for something the Avengers don’t see.

“Coulson?” Natasha speaks. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” Coulson points at the third box from the right. Tony zooms in on the mentioned camera footage.

“Shit.”

—

“Get Bec out of here!” Bucky demands, picking Rebecca up and handing her to Sam as the complex’s alarm system sounds. Sam nods, holding the toddler close to his chest before running off to get her somewhere safe.

“Buck, what’s your plan here?” Steve questions.

Bucky ignores his friend, taking off running towards the roof of the complex. The security footage showed the intrusion on the northwest most part of the building.

“Buck!”

“I’m saving my wife,” Bucky grumbles, putting more power in his steps, launching himself faster ahead.

—

When Bucky makes it to the roof, he does not have to try too hard to find you. In fact, he notes that you’re startling easy to find.

“Honey, I’m home,” you say cheekily, waving a casual hand at your husband when he lays eyes on you for the first time in months.

“Y/N,” Bucky breathes out, taking a step forward.

You’re leaning against the wall that surrounds the perimeter of the roof, arms crossed.

“James.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Fine.”

“I don’t particularly believe you,” you say, eyeing the dark bags beneath his eyes and the tired demeanor he holds.

“You’ve been gone for months. We thought you were dead. It’s not been so pleasant.”

You hum, pushing off the wall and walking towards the man. You step up against him, resting a gentle hand upon his chest.

“Hmm,” you hum. “You’re not wearing a suit, you didn’t bring any weapons…” You allow yourself to trail off, watching carefully for a reaction.

He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says cautiously, but something about the situation feels off. He isn’t sure he believes the statement himself anymore.

You sigh and step away.

“You’ve heard, I’m sure, what I’ve been up to.”

“I have.”

“Not very on brand for me.”

“No.”

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, neither is what I’m here to do.”

“And what are you here to do?” Bucky feels anxiety creep up his chest.

“Marking 3 names off my list,” you say. “You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?”

Bucky immediately clocks the question as odd. Not only is it weird that you’re addressing the murders you’ve committed as off brand, but to ask him about the only person from his past life as if he’s someone he met recently? To address Steve as Captain America? Bucky remembers the conversation the Avengers had recently, and he thinks you must be playing an angle, waiting for him to figure it out. He also knows your mannerisms better than his own, and he has never known you to speak so formally to him.

He feels a memory trying to come forward. A missing puzzle piece that would help him understand what’s going on.

You sigh, pulling Bucky away from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, James, but I’m on a tight schedule, and I can’t hang out here all day. So, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a To-Do list.”

Bucky stands a little taller.

“Doll, I can’t let you cross out names on that list.”

“Sure you can, and you will.”

“Why would I do that?”

You pout. “Because you promised to support me in good and bad,” you say, referring to his wedding vows.

“I didn’t mean stand by while you murder the people closest to you.”

“Well, shit,” you say before you throw a right hook into Bucky’s jaw and sprint towards the stairs while he’s distracted.

Bucky clutches his jaw with his hand before standing up straight. He usually would have anticipated the punch, but this whole situation has thrown him. And you have a habit of getting him to let his guard down.

“Shit,” he says before taking off after you.

You manage to avoid Bucky for a while as you make your way through the compound, but he does catch up to you.

You lay eyes on Steve and you sprint in his direction.

“Y/N! What? Stop! You don’t have to do this!” Steve attempts to reason, holding his shield up to deflect a bullet you send flying his way. Steve notes it wasn’t hard to deflect, and he stores that information away for later. After all, SHIELD first took note of you for to your sniping ability. You don’t miss.

“Sorry, Rogers,” you say, shrugging. “I’m just a girl doin’ what a girl’s gotta do. Y’kno—Agh!”

You are cut off, letting out an unattractive yelp as you fall to the floor. It takes a moment to get you bearings, but you quickly realize Bucky had tackled you.

You fight back, but you allow Bucky to slide your gun away from you and across the floor.

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky begs, grabbing hold of your wrists with his metal hand and holding your arms taut while he holds your body down by straddling your torso.

You—to Bucky’s surprise—stop. Then, you raise an eyebrow as if to ask, “What do you want?”

“What are you doing? Killing the president? Trying to kill Steve? What’s your angle here?”

“Have you ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?” You ask.

Bucky gives you a look. Your question, after all, is out of left field. You ignore the look and continue.

“It’s a Greek myth. Orpheus and Eurydice are in love, right? But Eurydice does and is trapped in the Underworld. Well, Orpheus goes on a quest to get her back, and the only condition Hades gives him is that he doesn’t turn around on the way back out of the Underworld.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“If he turned around, Eurydice would be trapped in the Underworld forever, and she and Orpheus would never be together again. Never have a life together.”

“Y/N.”

“Orpheus turned around. I always thought that was stupid. I mean, I guess if you love someone, you’d want to turn around and check on them. Make sure they’re still there. But, on the other hand, if you love someone, and trust them…”

“You trust they’ll still be following you even if you don’t turn around,” Bucky finishes.

“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t turn around, James.”

“What?”

While Bucky is confused, distracted by your story, you wrench your wrists out from his grasp and thrust up with your hips. You manage enough momentum to swing Bucky off of you and you climb on top of him, switching positions.

“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.

—

@just-henny y @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

[wide-nose-and-wonderful]

SNOWFALL SEASON 1 Franklin.

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black Fem Reader!

Warnings/Type: Established Relationship. Angst. Use of the n-word. Mention of incarceration.  Here is Part (2)

Summary: You’ve seen the worst parts of him and the best parts of him and vice versa. That’s why you made a good pair, but the recent knowledge of his new life path has torn you both apart. However when tragedy strikes, it might be the thing you need to take another look at the Franklin you fell in love with.   

Word count: 6,228k  / Comment and Like to show some love. It's oh so appreciated and encourages me to write more for ya'll! 

You opened the door and entered the small, cramped bedroom with a heavy sigh. Two windows, and a large orange rug in the middle of the floor. It was 1983 and the black prison population had risen 39 percent. Alice Walker had finally been recognized for her amazing writing, the goat face devil, known none other than President Ronald Reagan was in office, and Martin Luther King’s birthday became a federal holiday. To be real, you were still waiting for the day they would do the same for Malcom X. If you were given the option between the two leaders, Malcolm was always the easy choice. You looked around at the brown, outdated furniture, the thick, floral curtains, and the collection of dolls that had been passed down to you. A record player, piles of vinyl's, your favorite childhood teddy bear, and posters of bands and movies. 

That wasn’t all. 

Law books. Everywhere! 

There were so many law books that the public library would need to come to you for a check out. You took a few moments to soak it all in. They stacked high, one atop the other, and filled with information.You'd possibly taken every single book on the subject in all of South Central. There wasn't a place you hadn't visited to search for answers. 

You were dedicated. Determined. 

All the time you put in was worth it. All the sacrifices of fun you'd made to stay in and look for answers would make a difference in the end. That's what you kept telling yourself. This would all be worth it in the end. When it was all said and done, your big brother would be free to come back home and you would remain his hero.

You remembered all the long hours spent studying the different cases that had a similar flavor to what your brother’s had. Not a lawyer by any stretch of the word, but you knew how to read quite well and your comprehension, well, there was a reason that every report card you got in school read straight A's. So any time you and your mom had a meeting with Shelby Fleming, the public defender assigned to your brother's case, you were right there, ready with questions and suggestions. You couldn't recall how many times your mother had to tell you to shut up, but nonetheless Fleming appeared to take heed to your ramblings, at least a little. 

A little was enough for you. You could have very well been dismissed and not welcomed back, but you'd never missed a meeting. You figured it must be hard, a young black girl from the quote on quote hood, telling some white lawyer how to do his job better than he could. 

You remembered the last conversation you had with your brother. It was odd talking to him and being separated by a thick wall of glass. The entire experience left you unfulfilled each time you went back. 

‘Fuck this.You didn't do anything wrong. Imma get you out. I'll never stop fighting so you can come home Ronnie. Promise. Just, don't give up. This shit isn't hopeless.'

You remembered that particular visit. Ronnie had just received word that he'd lost his scholarship. Minor set back. He was smart, capable. He'd bounce back. Get another one.You were sure of that. 

You walked over to your bed, which was still made from the morning and ran your hand over the creamy, maroon bedspread, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingers. You closed your eyes remembering the words, how he got on you for cursing in front of your mother. How he wanted you to control your anger and use all your frustration for something positive. 

He'd been having a hard time adjusting to that life, even after five months. More and more it weighed on him. You could see it in his face. That light you loved so much was beginning to dwindle. Everytime you came for a visit he had a fresh cut on him, busted lip, or a black eye that would make him look away ashamed. You never asked him about any of it, or pulled at him for information. You knew your brother wasn't a fighter. He just wasn't. 

He didn't need to be. Not for you. He would be someone else if he was. 

Ronnie wore big round glasses and carried a welcoming smile whenever he said hello and just like you, he loved books. He was pretty tall, and kinda thin, but he'd been everything you needed. He'd gotten himself a part time job at the library when he wasn't doing his college thing and always talked about how, ‘we need more black doctors. I know it's gonna take me a while, but I think that's the path I should be on.’ You supported him, even when times got tight. You believed in his dream, even to the point that you put college on the back burner. Ronnie had a scholarship, but that wouldn't be enough to take him all the way to the finish line. So you got a job to keep up things around the house, to support Ronnie. 

He was so good natured and driven. 

Your plans were but a small sacrifice for someone who deserved the world, but it was his good nature that had landed him in the last place you would have expected, federal prison. 

Ronnie always had a way of hanging with the wrong crowd, all because he wanted to help. Because he thought he could show folks a different way. You hated and loved that about him. It finally caught up to him, the good nature. He was looking at heavy time too. He wasn't the one with the gun, but he was there. And being there was just as bad. Even if he were trying to stop it. It was just as bad. 

‘Just tell them the truth. Do you want out of here!’ 

‘Politics ma. If I say anything I'm a dead man.’ 

You could hate your mother sometimes for the way she pressured Ronnie. Eventually he always gave into her whim. But she'd never been to prison. How would she know such advice could be detrimental? She wanted him back home just as bad as you did, but she lacked compassion. He had to always be a certain way for her, and that pissed you off more than you realized. 

To be fair, she did what she had to do to bring you up. To take care of the both of you. The family never had much, but you were never hungry, and the roof over your head caused you to shut down all your opinions about your mother and Ronnie's toxic relationship. He wasn't your father, although she expected him to be. The man of the house. 

You got up and moved over to the dresser, where you opened the top drawer and looked inside. There were some of her favorite things tucked away – an old pair of roller skates, a book of fairy tales, and a few pieces of jewelry. 

You pulled out the jewelry and held it up to the light. A very thin gold chain. A gift from Franklin. One of the few things that reminded you of the good times you’d shared with him. You sat the chain back in its place. Two weeks had felt more like two years. You still couldn’t believe it was over. But you also couldn’t believe what he’d gotten himself into either or tried to have you involved in off the simple fact that you were his girlfriend. With the news of Ronnie’s pending case you thought he’d be smarter. He knew everything you did. Upon explaining you hadn't missed one detail. 

'I'm not Ronnie. Alright? I know what I'm doin'.

For him to say some shit like that. Just thinking back on it pissed you off all over again. 

You threw a glance in the direction of the long full body mirror on your door. A pair of blue jeans, a yellow tank top, and your chunky gold hoop earrings, with your larger than life afro and brown skin. How many times had your mom and aunties tried to persuade you to get the hot comb run through? You declined every time. There had been this recent wave of perms and with the new commercials on TV, everybody and their mama, cousin, sister, homie lover friend was going for this look. 

You on the other hand had a thing for going against the grain. Standing out just because. Besides all that, you had a reputation to uphold. Sure it could be a lot to manage, but if Leon could do it. So could you. You'd both earned the nickname afro pick twins, by none other than Kevin, although you had the height advantage on Leon for days. A perm would totally kill that. You thought about the necklace again, how good it would look on you. How it would complete the outfit, your hair, even the carmex you applied. Tempted, you dug in the drawer for it and unclasped the back, setting it on your neck before locking the connected pieces and taking another look in the mirror. 

There it was. Complete. 

You sighed and took one last look at your book collection before you walked out of your bedroom and into the living room where your mother sat at the edge of the sofa. Her leg bounced up and down as she tapped the ash from her cigarette and proceeded to inhale the last bit of smoke in her lungs before putting it out completely. 

When she looked up at the clock, you looked too. The two of you had been waiting for the call. To hear back from Ronnies public defender. Good news. You just knew deep down it would be good news. He didn't deserve ten years. That was ridiculous. No, you were sure he'd get out in two, maybe even less for good behavior. 

‘I love you big brother. Stay strong and keep your head up in there, okay. I'll write. But I'll be here to see you next week too.’ 

‘Love you sis. See you next week.’ 

‘Ron don't forget. You're still my hero.’

‘You're still mine too.’ 

You had to be each other's hero after your father died. Your mother had detached herself. Became numb with grief, and it had been only you and Ronnie for a while. That only made the two of you grow closer. You needed each other. All of this was wrong in every sense of the word. This really was a case of the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely that little mishap could be forgiven with someone so promising. Ronnie had a lot to offer the world. So much that he could give.

You took in a deep breath and exhaled, shaking off the thought. Your stomach had been in knots the whole day waiting for the phone to ring. You'd barely eaten anything. You couldn't eat in fear that you would throw it all up with your nerves acting up, and you hated to throw up. 

"Hey. Go run to the store right quick and get me some more smokes." 

You immediately frowned. It was the first natural reaction your features could make out. A frown. Firstly you hated that your mom smoked. Cigarettes smelled like ass, and thus the fact that she didn't have the decency to smoke outside on the porch you smelled like a trash bucket by default. You rolled your eyes. 

"Can I go after the call ma?" 

"Look child, I am not in the mood. I asked you to do something.” She looked at you. “I don't need the attitude or back talk,” she said to emphasize her point. “Just go get my damn smokes." With a wave of her hand she turned her attention back to the television screen. Some beauty paget was on, and they were about to crown the winner. 

You stood up in a huff and walked over to her purse sitting on the table. You dug your hand inside and rummaged through her belongings. "How much can I take?" You asked, then pulled out her pocket book. 

"A twenty should be enough. Just go up the street to Cho’s. It’s closest." 

You stopped in your tracks, lifted your head with another sigh to follow. A quieter sigh so she wouldn’t hear it. 

Shit. You wanted so badly to protest. To argue why that was the worst suggestion, ever. To tell her that while the other store would take longer to get to, you would rather make that unnecessary trip then go up to Cho’s. You’d memorized his schedule ever since you two became a thing, mainly to plan time when you’d both be free to kick it, so you knew going between 5 and 6, there would be no avoiding running into him. 

You looked at the time and smacked your teeth as you made your way to the front door and slipped on your shoes. Your favorite green and white leather high-top sneakers. It was exactly 5:45PM.Yep. Franklin was absolutely at work, just barely starting his shift. You grabbed your small jacket and walked out, only halting briefly. “Alright. Be right back,” You called to your mom before shutting the door behind you and walking down the three steps that led to the sidewalk and down the walkway. 

The only thing that had made the breakup bearable was that you didn’t have to see him. You did a pretty good job of making yourself incognito when it mattered, and avoiding all the places he'd be on a regular basis. Really, you just needed time to wean yourself off. To get him out of your system. Then you’d be alright. Pretty soon you wouldn’t care at all where he was or if you'd run into him. You just wanted to get past the initial stage of separation. 

…

It didn't help that the first thing you heard when you stepped through the entrance doors of Cho's grocery store was Franklin's voice, and the first thing you saw was Melody Wright close by and laughing, probably at one of Franklin's stupid jokes. Damn Franklin, you moved on that fast, huh? You thought, and wondered why you had. Didn't he have a right to laugh with friends? After all you were the one that called for a breakup, not him. The laughter stopped and it was an all eyes on you stare down before you raised a hand and offered a quick wave as you passed by the chocolate bars and headed to the back. Some woman had come in behind you and walked in the opposite direction. For some reason you couldn't produce a regular ‘hi, how you doing, without it sounding condescending. Truth be told you'd wanted to avoid such an encounter. Damn your mom and her bad habits. 

"Hey Y/N, how you doin'? You can't say hi to a nigga now," Kevin called from the front with a chuckle. 

Boy, you could kick him right in the ass for putting a spotlight on you.

"I waved nigga, hell!" You shouted back, grabbing a bag of chips you liked before looking at the cold drinks behind the glass, doing everything to avoid Franklin's eyes. Good thing Kevin found that amusing, but you knew Franklin was still looking in your direction. There was this intensity with him that you didn't understand. All you knew was that you felt it. 

You heard that laugh again, and found yourself suddenly annoyed. 

Melody. 

You honestly didn't have a problem with her until the window incident that happened a month prior. To you she was nothing more than the girl next door. A young ass girl who liked your man, but absolutely no one to feel threatened by. You trusted him, and he'd never lied to you about anything, until now. The very point of betrayal you felt, was that Melody knew about the cocaine operation he had going before you did. Franklin had known her longer but you all grew up together. Not only that, you were his girl, that meant you should be the first to know no matter your reaction. You always had the better shot of being with him just based on your age alone. Plus you always felt you and Franklin were more compatible. You just got each other. You couldn't explain the chemistry. Why she thought she still had the right to climb through Franklin's window was beyond you. But she tried it. Needless to say she got what she deserved. Cissy wasn't home that day, and Franklin had all of a sudden gotten up from the couch and took you to his room. A man of few words, he'd pulled you in and started kissing you before he moved down to your neck. Then to your breast. Then to the button of your pants which he undid and removed, right before your panties were discarded. 

Damn, that boy had some soft lips. 

You snuck yourself a peek from over the rack of chips that provided you with good coverage from his view to look at them. You could hear Kevin and Leon talking, but your focus remained on Franklin. 

Damn, how you missed those lips. 

Clearing your throat you thought back to the surprise Melody got. Franklin on his knees below you, you at the edge of his bed. His face in-between your legs, eating you out like the nigga had been starved the day before. His long fingers wrapped around your thighs making sure you were held securely in place, and the best part about it was that he never looked up to acknowledge Melody's big head ass. Neither did you. Fuck it, you thought. Let her watch. But she didn't. You never saw a bitch move so fast. 

Now it was different. 

You were the one moving like a frightened rabbit, trying to avoid Franklin and his friends. Your friends. At Least once upon a time they were. But with Leon and Kevin being so close to Franklin, you figured you'd have to leave them all behind, like a package deal of sorts, to be fully through with the relationship. You wondered if they were all a part of it. The operation. Franklin was of course the leader. He just had the personality for it, but if not Kevin then alleast Leon's ass was involved someway somehow.

You shook your head. Whatever the situation was, it was all stupid to you. After all the cases you'd read in the collection of law books in your room, you knew that kinda life would only lead to destruction. On the one hand you wanted to thank him for thinking about you. He didn’t have to hand you two thick wods of money. But then on the other hand you knew you wouldn't feel right taking it. Especially since he wouldn’t tell you how he got it. That’s what kicked off the fight and ultimately led to you calling it quits. The way your voice traveled, you were sure Cissy was already suspicious. She didn’t know either, but you expected Franklin to be the one to reveal that truth to his mother, not you. You already knew you weren't built for it, which was why you'd broken it off. 

Cho's wasn't that big to begin with, and whether or not they were loud on purpose, you heard the conversation from where you stood at the back of the store looking at drinks you had no intention on purchasing. 

"Haha you stupid," Kevin joked. He must have been talking to Leon.  

"Well anyway nigga. We still gon hit up that new Eddie Murphy movie, Friday?" 

"Hell yeah. I'm down.” Melody chimed in. “Franklin, you going?"

You waited a minute to hear his response.

"Yeah. Looks like it's gonna be funny. Eddie is always a good time though so yeah. I’ll be there." 

You closed your eyes for a second and looked down once you opened them. You’d heard about the movie long before the breakup. Any Eddie Murphy film was a big deal. You were a big fan of the comedian turned actor. It had been something you’d both planned ahead of time. A date of sorts with just the two of you. Could you really be mad though? Was he not supposed to see the movie just because it would no longer be with you? The logic part of your brain gave you a hard, no. But your side built on full and pure emotion felt betrayed by him agreeing to go. Where the hell was your invite? 

"Okay. Well I'll see y'all. My daddy probably waitin' on me." She smiled at the guys, gave them a wave and walked out. 

"Bye Mel. See you," Franklin said right as the door closed behind her.

Leon stretched his arms and gave a long and drawn out yawn. "Yep Saint, I'm bout to dip too."

Kevin finished off whatever beverage he'd been sipping on. "Same. I gotta get up early tomorrow." 

Leon chuckled and tossed him a look. "Shit nigga and do what?"

Kevin tilted his head and chuckled as he threw away the empty can. "Yo mama. She been callin' I just ain't been pickin’ up."

Leon stopped laughing, which made Franklin grin and shake his head. 

“Man fuck you Kev. Don’t be talkin’ bout my mama.” 

You could hear them talking shit all the way out the door. You shook your head. A pair of fools, those two were. Now it was just you and Franklin, beside the occasional customers. Eventually you would have to go and pay for your items, unless you thought you could get away with a grocery store heist. 

You looked down at your hands.Things in each of them. Nothing but junk food, and you wondered if you would have enough for the cigarettes. 

When you made your way to the front there were two in line before you. Franklin occupied himself with ringing them up, but that didn't stop him from stealing glances. As the last customer grabbed her bag you moved up and took her place at the front. 

"Hey," Franklin said.

"Hey," you said back and placed everything on the counter. You hated that the smile you had was so faked, but again you couldn’t help it. You were a combination of so many emotions, you didn’t know which one to express at any given time. So much shit had been going on in your life lately that you couldn't stop your head from spinning. It didn’t help that you were avoiding making eye contact with him. Two weeks ago, and you would have stared into those motherfuckers for hours. 

"This it?" He took your things and began to scan them, a consistent beep after every slide of the barcode. His deep brown hues, rolling over you. Bearing into your soul even. Why was it that even the slightest glance of him reminded you of times when you were laid up in eachothers arms? How you both scrambled to get your clothes back on when you heard either of your mother's pulling up in the driveway depending on which house. You'd never gotten caught, thank God! You missed his arms. You missed being in them. 

"Yeah,” You nodded before you snapped back into the reality of why you were there in the first place.“Oh, wait and some smokes for my mama, please." You didn’t need to tell him which ones. He already knew. He’d been over the house enough times to get a mental picture. Besides that, this wasn’t the first time she’d sent you to grab her some. With that in mind you dug in your pocket for the twenty dollar bill. 

Franklin nodded and turned his back to you to reach up and grab a pack from the shelf behind him. This gave you the opportunity to look at him. Really look at him. 

You noticed his hair first. How it grew just shy an inch from the last time you saw it with the promise of a sprouting afro if he'd allow it. Then next his arms as he reached up for the certain brand she liked. You loved the color of his skin the most. A perfect completion. He wore a green T-shirt and dark wash blue jeans, so there was nothing extraordinary about his style, but boy oh boy, as simple as it was, did you love it. He was just well put together, in a way you couldn't explain. Franklin Saint was very much himself, in every sense of the word. He turned back around and scanned the cigarette pack, and your gaze departed from him as if it had never been there. You only looked at him briefly when he told you the total to hand him the twenty dollar bill, and once more when he gave you the change. He bagged everything up and held it out to you to take.You reached for it. Touched his hand by accident. Just that brief brush of warmth, and you knew you needed to leave. 

“Thank you,” you said, taking a step back.

"Y/N wait.” 

You paused and met his eyes. 

“I haven't seen you in two weeks. How you been?" 

You shrugged in hopes that someone would be behind you in line, but there was no one. You couldn't avoid the conversation even if you wanted to. 

"Been fine Franklin thank you for asking." 

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling briefly before he looked back at you. "Is there a reason why you're avoiding me?" 

"I'm not avoiding you.” You just so happen to say this without making eye contact. “What do you mean?" 

Franklin smirked. Had you forgotten how long y'all knew each other? He knew when you were on bullshit. 

"Come on. It's me. You can't even look me in the eye right now. Is that not avoiding me?"

Some kind of weird tension made its way to your shoulders. "Look Franklin, I just.” You sucked in air. You might as well just say it. Your body language had to be a dead giveaway at this point. “This isn't easy for me. Cause I won't lie. I wanna be with you.” You shook your head annoyed that you admitted it to him and shrugged your shoulders to make yourself feel better that you were actually being honest with yourself about the situation. Walking in and seeing Melody had a lot to do with that feeling. You didn't want to see him with another girl. Not Melody or anybody. “It ain't easy not to want that, despite everything."

"You think it is for me." 

You laughed. "Hm. Clearly. Looks like you didn't miss a beat. You with Melody now?" 

"Come on. Don't even do that. We're friends. Besides, Leon brought it up.” 

So he knew exactly what you were pissed about. The movie on Friday. The movie you'd already made plans for. 

“At first I wasn't going to but then I thought, shit why not. I wanna see Eddie. Laugh." 

You purse your lips and huff. Just another excuse. "Yeah. Whatever. Friends my ass Franklin.”

You took hold of your grocery bag and set your sights on the door. Franklin stopped you though. He'd leaned over the counter and grabbed your arm. 

“Wait, come on. Stay, let's talk, please." 

You shook your head. "Talk about what? We're done. There's nothing left to say.” You took a deep breath and with that turned to face him. “I can't do that. That life. That's too much on my heart. My brothers locked up. He might get ten years for something he didn't do.”

He had let go of your arm at this point. Finally, something you said caught his attention. Or at least he appeared to be consecrate in that respect to Ronnie's situation. 

You didn't stop there. You went on. 

“Then you. Can you imagine how much time you'd get for selling cocaine, Franklin? Cocaine!” You whispered as best you could through gritted teeth, but there was a hardness in your tone that said you still couldn't believe that he'd made such a choice for his life. “My God,” you added. “They wouldn't put you in the prison, they'd throw you the fuck under it.” Your emotions began to swell, you could feel the tears rising amidst the frustration. You knew no matter what you said, once Franklin made up his mind on something, it'd be like trying to move a mountain to change it. His stubbornness annoyed the shit outta you. At least one of his flaws which stuck out like a sore thumb. “You think I want that for you? You think my heart can take seeing you locked up like some fucking animal. Like my brother is right now.” It was probably all on deaf ears, nevertheless you said it anyway. You sniffed and looked straight ahead. “I feel so helpless. I hate going to that fuckin' place every week, but I can't not go cause he doesn't have anyone else but me that really gives a fuck about what he's really going through.” You thought about the visible signs of struggle on Ronnies face. The busted lip, all the cuts and bruises. “Truth be told. They're breaking him. That happy person he was. Yeah. That's gone now." 

You didn't notice when he walked around the counter. Only that he stood before you and wrapped his arms around you, which brought you to his chest. That familiar safe place. You didn't fight it. You eased into that comfort, cause heaven knew you needed it now more than ever. 

"I'm sorry," Franklin whispered. 

"I'm just tired,” you breathed out, taking in the scent of his cologne. “I've been trying for months to find some kinda loophole to help him in some way. But there's no way out.”

"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna all work out."

Your thoughts of Ronnie had shifted back to Franklin. 

"Just tell me why you feel like you gotta do this shit. Your handsome, your so fuckin' smart. You could be anything in the world and you chose to be a drug dealer?” You moved from his embrace, hearing him sigh as you wiped your eyes. “I don't understand. I don't fuckin understand that shit." 

The phone interrupted the explanation Franklin would give. You wanted so badly to hear what he would say. Would it be an excuse or the truth, and if it was the truth, could you even handle it?

“Give me one sec okay? I gotta get this.” His hand slid down your shoulders before they left you and you watched him hop over the counter and get the phone. You turned as the words Hello left Franklin’s lips and you found the round clock overhead. You hoped that your taking this time hadn’t made you miss the call you’d been waiting all day for. 

“Wow wow. Calm down. Just breathe. What happened?” 

Franklin’s tone had changed from casual to concerned at the drop of a dime and you found yourself curious to know who was on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. She’s here. She’s right here.” 

You didn’t have time to study his face before he looked at you, calling your name to guid you over toward the phone. You didn't jump the counter, instead you walked through the swinging gate that separated you. Franklin removed the phone from his ear and you struggled to figure out what his eyes were trying to convey without him being able to say it with his words. “It’s your mama. She’s pretty upset.” He held out the phone in your direction. 

You didn’t know why your heart dropped, but it did like it was preparing you for something devastating without even hearing anything just yet. What was the worst news you could get? That you’d missed the call. That the public defender had told her they’d given your brother ten fucking years. Ten years just gone, stolen away. 

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and with a shaky hand you took the phone from Franklin. 

“Ma. Ma hello, what happened? What did Fleming say? They give him the max?” Your eyes already started to well up with tears again, content with that being the situation, and your lip began to quiver as you heard her scream out from the other end, He's dead. Ronnie is dead! They killed him! They killed him! My son, my baby! They killed him!" 

The last conversation you had with your brother didn’t seem like a goodbye at the time. But it was a goodbye. One you never even saw coming. 

You shook your head and dropped the phone, leaving your mother on the end of the line in hysterics repeating the same thing she’d said to you over and over. It was so loud that Franklin could hear her, and some people in the store that had walked in. You should go to her, you thought. You should be with her right this second, but you couldn't move from the spot where you stood. Your knees gave out, and you dropped to the floor stunned. Your mouth hung open void of speech or explanation for Franklin who was standing next to you looking at the phone that had the screams coming out from the other end, horrified. 

Pretty soon it became too much to breathe and you placed a hand over your chest and pulled in a bunch of fabric from your coat in hopes of catching it. It was like the air ran away from you.

Franklin hurried to your side. He understood what was happening even before you did. But he knew you, so that wasn’t a surprise. 

“Y/N. Hey. Come on, it's okay. Calm down. Calm down. You have to calm down.” 

But you were frozen until your lips blurted out, “They killed him, Franklin. My brother's dead!” You began to try and catch your breath. “They-” Your chest felt tighter and tighter. “I can’t, I c-can’t breathe.”

Franklin frantically searched through your pockets, both pants and coat, but it wasn’t there. 

“Baby hey." Frantic, he cupped your face with both hands before searching the pockets a second time. 

He must have understood the color change. The one that looked the same on everyone when they couldn't breathe. You wondered if your lips had gone blue. 

“Where is it? Where is your inhaler at?” 

You figured an asthma attack was a lot like drowning, but then, you would never know the exact difference. You’d never been in danger of drowning before. At Least not in water. 

“This was a pose to be quick. I didn’t b-bring i-t, frank, h-help me.” you could hear the disorientation of your words.You had begun to pull at his shirt, shooting yourself into a panic as you slipped a hand up around your neck clawing and struggling for any type of relief. 

“Fuck!” Franklin removed your grip on him, laid you on the ground and scrambled to his feet to reach for the phone. He hung up on your mother, picked it up again and dialed 911. He kept his eye on you hitting the top of the counter and pacing as if urging them to hurry the fuck up. 

"Uh, yeah hi. My name is Franklin Saint. I work at Cho's grocery store. Yeah. Uh. Yeah my girlfriend, she's havin' an asthma attack. She doesn't have her inhaler on her. Please. Help. She. Please just hurry. Send an ambulance!" 

Pretty soon you were lifted up. Arms were around you. You assumed they were Franklin's. You could hear his voice in the distance of your mind as an echo, but just barely. Encouraging you that help was on the way. To take deep breaths. Stay calm. 

Yeah. You were way past that. You were literally about to die!  

You forced yourself to turn your gaze on him as you wheezed. The struggle, slowing down, but not in a good way. Although your ears were ringing, and it felt like you were being crushed under a semi truck, you could hear Franklin even while his form began to blur out as your eyes clouded. There was such worry in his voice, such urgency to get you some assistance. Such care. You were sorry. Sorry that you ever said it was over, despite the choice he’d made. 

You wished you could tell him that. 

You closed your eyes instead.

…………………………………………………………..

Taglist:  @mysticalblackhottie @muvasuperior @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7

[liyazaki]

in praise of complexity

it's way easier to write two types of parents of queer kids: the 100% accepting parents, and the in-your-face homophobic variety.

I've had my fingers crossed that My School President would opt for the third, more complicated kind. this show has been too nuanced and well-done for me to hop on any "Tinn's mom is probably the devil" bandwagon, anyway. in the end, they not only went the more complex route- they delivered in a big way.

when we first met Photjanee, she seemed like the stereotypical strict drama parent with sky-high expectations, thanks at least in part to her job.

we were slowly given insights into her and Tinn's relationship, and we got to see the affection and deep care they have for each other. it was heartwarming to watch, and establishing how loving their relationship was was essential to the conflict that came next.

in a little stroke of writing genius, most of Photjanee's struggle with Tinn and Gun's relationship- and with what that relationship meant for her son- were almost exclusively intended for our eyes only.

they gave us an unusually large amount of Photjanee-focused scenes (more than a few only had Tao in them), showcasing her growing suspicions and internal struggle. when she briefly interacted with someone else in these scenes- Tinn's dad, Gun's mom, Kajorn- the focus always remained on her and ended with her.

the writers easily could've given Photjanee expository dialogue during these moments- i.e. "I'm just struggling so much with xyz"- but for the most part, they didn't. they mostly opted for "show, don't tell"- another unusual but stellar move, especially for GMMTV fare.

Tao Sarocha took us on Photjanee's journey with mainly facial expressions, tone of voice, pauses and where her gaze lingered. we didn't need to be told this was a mother who loved her child dearly, while simultaneously struggling with revelations about who he is. we could see it for ourselves.

Photjanee wants Tinn to be happy and free, but she's afraid for him. she doesn't want him to feel rejected, but she doesn't know how (at first) to reconcile herself to a future she never imagined for him.

she didn't start as an open-arms ally, nor was she a bigot. she's an adoring, terrified mom adapting to change as best as she can. not a moment of her journey was rushed- these things can take time (sometimes a lot of it), and the writers gave that to her...to us.

Photjanee wasn't perfect- she was real (she sure as hell felt like it, anyway). and it made the beautiful, beautiful ending all the more meaningful.