#I hadn't played it since 2018

[nintooner]

By pure coincidence, I just so happened to check in on my copy of Y on X and Y's tenth anniversary 😭

Happy 10 years, X and Y 🎉🎉🎉

[theetherealbloom]

CLOSE TO YOU

Summary: A commute crush turned meet cute with Pedro Pascal

Paring: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Warnings: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Commute Crush, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Meet-Cute, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Alcohol, Club/Bar Setting

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Close To You release day! I’ve waited for this song since 2018 LMAO. Usually, I don’t write about real-life people, but I really can’t help it since this song is SO Pedro Pascal-coded. Just know that this is fictional and if this isn’t for you, you don’t have to read it! Keep scrolling :> And for those who stay to read this delusion of a fic, hey girlieeee I see you <3 

P.S. I’ll be doing a bunch of fics related to Gracie’s new album that comes out next week!

Song: Close To You by Gracie Abrams

| Main Masterlist |

It all began as a harmless crush on your morning commute. The New York subway was your daily stage, a bustling backdrop as you headed to meet a client. As a social media coordinator, your days revolved around managing high-profile partnerships, coordinating with celebrities and Instagram influencers to craft campaigns that seamlessly blended their brands with consumer appeal. 

But today was different. And of course, you recognized him. 

You noticed him immediately – Pedro Pascal, seated right in front of you. Lost in his book, with a iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots cradled in his hand, he exuded an effortless charm. His dark, curly hair framed those whisky eyes that glanced up and met yours. Just for a second, you were frozen in time, captivated by his gaze. You quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude, yet feeling the familiar flutter of a crush brewing.

Did he smile? You swore he did, and your heart skipped a beat. The train doors opened, announcing your stop. Reluctantly, you stepped off, joining the throng of commuters spilling onto the platform. As you ascended the steps, the city's vibrant energy washed over you, but your mind was elsewhere.

Walking towards the restaurant for your client meeting, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his presence ignited a spark within you, a longing that seemed almost irrational. Here you were, burning for a man who didn't even know your name. And yet, in the anonymity of the subway, a fleeting connection had stirred something deep inside you.

It had been a few weeks since that subway encounter, the memory of Pedro Pascal’s whisky eyes lingering in your mind. In the meantime, you had started managing social media for Sarah Paulson, whose busy schedule had her juggling multiple projects and interviews.

Sarah's latest project, a Broadway play titled Appropriate, was garnering critical acclaim and several award nominations. Your job was to promote her involvement, ensuring every post captured the essence of her talent and the play’s success. Though you hadn't been working with her long, you were pleasantly surprised when she invited you to watch one of her performances.

That night, you arrived early at the Belasco Theatre, adorned in your favorite long dress and practical flats, mindful of the commute back to your apartment. Ushered to a seat close to the front, you settled into the plush red velvet, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the audience trickled in, you busied yourself with casual texts to friends before putting your phone away, taking in the theatre's intricate architecture and the stage's grandeur.

Moments later, an usher guided someone to the seat next to you. Curiosity made you glance to your right, and there he was—Pedro Pascal, settling in beside you. Your eyes widened in recognition before you quickly looked away, a quiet panic bubbling in your stomach and tightening your chest. You fidgeted with your fingers, a nervous habit, trying to quell the flurry of emotions and resist the urge to stare.

As the house lights dimmed and the show began, you couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at him. The man who had unknowingly captured your heart was now mere inches away. The performance on stage was captivating, but you found yourself equally entranced by the man sitting next to you. In the soft glow of the theatre lights, you wondered if he remembered that brief moment on the subway, and if fate had just given you a second chance to connect.

When the show ended and the cast took their bows, the theatre erupted in applause. Pedro, sitting right next to you, cheered loudly when Sarah stood with the rest of the cast on stage. His genuine enthusiasm for his friend made you smile, and as you glanced at him, he looked down at you with a radiant grin. 

Your heart raced, and for a moment, you felt a concrete connection that was almost tangible. Both of you opened your mouths to speak, but just then, an usher cleared their throat, drawing your attention.

“Mr. Pascal, Sarah Paulson is asking for you backstage… if you would follow me, please,” the usher said, causing Pedro to hesitate, torn between staying with you and fulfilling his friend's request.

“Uh,” Pedro began, glancing between you and the usher. Seeing his dilemma, you made the decision for him. Gathering your things, you offered a polite smile to both Pedro and the starstruck usher.

As Pedro glanced back at the usher, you seized the moment to make your getaway. You might have heard him call out, "Wait!" but you didn't stop. Stepping out onto the bustling street, the city lights of Broadway twinkled around you, a stark contrast to the growing ache in your heart.

The possibility of what might have been gnawed at you, the fleeting connection slipping through your fingers. A voice in the back of your mind echoed doubts, whispering that you didn't quite belong in this world of beautiful, glamorous people. You tried to shake off the feeling, but the bittersweet sting lingered.

You begin to walk away from the theatre, weaving through the crowd lined up for autographs by the backstage door. Just as you're about to cross the street to catch your subway, your phone vibrates in your clutch. Stepping aside, you see Sarah Paulson’s name flashing on the screen.

Shit. 

You quickly answer, praying your voice doesn't betray your nerves. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Sarah's voice is warm and enthusiastic. "How are you? Did you enjoy the show?"

"Yeah, I did! You were absolutely incredible," you say, offering genuine praise and shifting your weight to your other leg.

"Thank you so much! Oh, where are you right now? Are you still nearby? I had told the usher to bring you backstage with Pedro, but it seems like they forgot."

"Oh, um, yeah, I'm near the backstage door," you reply, glancing at the crowd still waiting for autographs.

"Perfect! Some of us are going out for drinks later, and you are welcome to join us!" Sarah’s excitement is infectious.

You stammer, "Uh, I..."

"It'll be great! I promise. I'll introduce you to everyone. You're my best social media manager by far."

Taking a deep breath, you muster, "Okay, yeah, I'd love to come."

"Great! I'll send you the address of where we're headed. We'll meet you there!" Sarah says, her smile practically audible.

"Alright, see you soon." You end the call with a click, clutching your phone tightly as you take another deep breath to steady your nerves and keep the world from spinning.

A ping alerts you to a new message. Glancing at the notification, you read the address and know exactly where to go. With a mixture of excitement and anxiety, you put away your phone and head towards the bar, the city's lights guiding your way.

It took you a while to figure out how to get there, but eventually, you arrive at the bar. As you step inside, a warm hum fills your body, the lights and the pulse of music thrumming through the room. The smoky, dark atmosphere feels electric, bodies moving in a rhythm that seems to make the air itself burn. 

Under the soft pink light, everything seems slightly surreal, yet oddly perfect. You spot Sarah, who immediately pulls you into a warm hug, which you happily accept. As you exchange pleasantries near their table, you feel at ease, enjoying the camaraderie. 

Then, suddenly, you sense a shift. You glance up and see Pedro looking right back at you. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet, and in that instant, the crowded room seems to fade away. 

There he is, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart, his gaze steady and intense. As Sarah guides you over to introduce the rest of her friends, castmates, and of course, Pedro, you feel a pull between the two of you.

You muster the courage to speak, telling him your name, and even through the loud speakers and endless chatter, you hear him say your name with a breathless relief. Finally meeting the mystery girl he saw on the subway seems to have stirred something within him.

When you shake hands, there's a lingering touch, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you. You can't help but duck your head a little, feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze. 

"Nice to finally meet you," Pedro says, his voice soft yet filled with warmth.

"Likewise," you reply, your own voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

In that brief exchange, you both sense something unspoken, a silent understanding that this meeting is more than just chance. And as the night unfolds, amidst the laughter and music, you find yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of fate.

As Sarah goes to mingle with the rest of the group, you both stand there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The air crackles with anticipation, and you can't shake the feeling that if you asked him to, he'd give up everything just to be close to you.

"You have a way of lighting up a room," he says, his voice low and full of sincerity as he leans in closer.

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his words, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "And you have a way of making me feel like I'm the only one in it," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the night wears on, you find yourself completely enchanted by Pedro. His easy charm and quick wit captivate you, and it's as if the two of you are in your own little world, separate from the chaos of the club.

He tells you stories about his acting career and his passion for music. You share your dreams and aspirations, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence that you've never experienced with anyone before.

Throughout the night, there are moments where your hands brush against each other or your eyes meet in a lingering gaze. Each time it happens, a spark of electricity shoots through your body, igniting a fire within you.

At one point, he leans in closer to whisper in your ear over the loud music. "I have a confession to make," he says, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You turn to face him, your heart racing with anticipation.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "I can't deny that you've caught my attention since the moment I saw you on the subway."

The admission sends your heart racing, and you can't help but feel a surge of boldness. "Funny, because you've been on my mind ever since," you confess, meeting his gaze with newfound confidence.

His eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and delight, and you can't help but be drawn to the way his lips curl into a playful smirk. "Is that so?" he teases, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod, feeling a rush of exhilaration coursing through your veins. "Absolutely," you reply, unable to tear your gaze away from his captivating stare.

Before you can say another word, he takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a dance choreographed just for the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand brushes against your neck, sending tingles of anticipation racing across your skin.

And then, in a moment that feels like it's been plucked straight from a romance film, his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you.

As you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, a sense of euphoria washes over you, like a chemical override in ultraviolet. "I just wanna be close to you," he murmurs, his words sending a thrill through your entire being. A smile dances at the corners of your lips as you revel in the electric connection between you.

"And you could be mine tonight," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a hint of playful flirtation.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leans in closer. "I think I could get used to being yours," he says, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, melting away any lingering doubts or fears.

He can't wait to fall in love with you.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

I love your Lords of chaos stuff and would really like if you could write something about Euronymous dating a girl who has a completely different aesthetic as him (girly, pink, super sweet and innocent) it can have smut . And if it could talk about how the dark circle feels about their relationship and stuff. Thank you and would truly love it.

Okay so this was really, really fun to write because of the dynamic. I hope you like it and as always have fun reading :)

Princess and the Vampire

warning : big fluff, use of Y/n

masterlist-Lords of Chaos 2018

masterlist-Rory's characters

Second Part

Diclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two couldn't have looked more different when they entered the shopping centre. The young woman was dressed in bright colours, but most of all it was her pink top that revealed her silver belly button piercing with a little Hello Kitty pendant on it that drew attention. not to forget her blue jeans with the colourful flowers sewn on them.

A typical glittery girl of the nineties from the outside. If she hadn't intertwined her fingers with those of a dead man. Next to her, a young man with longer black hair, black leather trousers, jumping boots and a T-shirt with satanic symbols on it. Two completely different people who loved each other more than anything else.

She heard him mutter to his friend, who was now giving the tenth pensioner a death stare and scaring him off with ,,Hail Satan". But this only made his friend smile, which is exactly why she loved her friend. While he was him and they both accepted each other as they were. Pink and girlish and dark satanic.

Like Yin and Yang she thought and jumped beside him before they arrived in front of a jewellery shop only a few moments later. ,,You dragged me here for this...well then, if you want" he grumbled and she just giggled before pulling him behind her. She was grateful that he came along to her little shopping trip, as she knew he didn't think much of trends and the mainstream.

Which is why she gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him smile slightly. ,,So again, I hope you're prepared to be kicked out of my shop," she heard him say again and knew what he meant. Since you got together about a month ago he had been telling his friends/band/admirers that he had a girlfriend but it never came to a meeting.

You were just too different for that and Euronymous was sure that the circle would tear you apart. Even though you met by chance in an ice cream parlour and he got your strawberry ice cream and you got his dark chocolate ice cream, something clicked between you.

Turning to him and smiling confidently, she said, ,,I don't wear pink heels for nothing, you know," before turning back to the chains. ,,I just need one more thing and it's perfect" she thought and looked from star symbols, to little flowers and musical notes. ,,How about this?" she heard his voice and he held out a necklace with a skull on it.

Smiling but rolling her eyes slightly, she pushed the necklace back into his hand and said, ,,That would look good on you, my sweet vampire, why don't you go and get it?".

Looking a little further through the shelves she let out a squeal of delight and Euronymous covered his ears before coming over to her and smiling. ,,OMG she's cute, look at those little ears!" she exclaimed, practically pushing the necklace with the Hello Kitty pendant into his face, which he could more than see.

Taking his hands up with conviction, he looked at the necklace and said quietly, ,,Yeah, it's kind of cute," which she confirmed with a knowing nod before they went to the checkout and bought it. ,,Wait, I'll help you" the black haired man said and while she held her hair up slightly he fastened the clasp so that the necklace was in place.

She went to one of the shop windows and looked at herself in the rather bad reflection. ,,That looks super cute" she said delightedly and smiled a big smile at Euronymous who returned it before the two of them took each other by the hand again to make their way to the record shop.

Spraying her perfume, which smelled of cherries, around her one last time and putting it in her little pink bag, she saw Euronymous give her a murmuring smile before he opened the door for her and the two of them went inside.

There was no one in the shop itself and she saw her friend's brief relief as he ran his gaze over the plates before stopping at the path to the cellar. ,,Ready?" he asked, pulling aside the curtain where she could already hear the loud music coming from downstairs. Fixing her hair one last time, she nodded to him before following him downstairs.

She had only been in the basement a few times when the coven didn't have a meeting. But it definitely lacked colour in her opinion. Overcoming the remaining steps, she stood next to Euronymous with a broad smile. ,,Nice man, a hooker, didn't know this was going to be an orgy" was the first comment from someone wearing a bandana and grinning broadly.

The others laughed and she saw that it was not the first and not the second beer they all seemed to have had. ,,You must have paid the little one a lot," she heard the murmur of someone with long dark brown hair who was playing with a lighter and had a challenging look on his face.

That's the guy from the interview in the newspaper...Varg or something she thought, but didn't let the remarks get to her, she was above these things. ,,Or is she our victim, I really want to do it again" said a guy with long hair and a knife in his hand that flashed in the light who was sitting next to a guy with a heel cross chain. Before she noticed a blond, quiet, thin-looking guy she recognised as Pelle/Dead.

Euronymous's best friend as she knew. Just normal nice people. ,,No guys...this is Y/n my friend!" Euronymous interrupted his friends and followers and put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. She waved to the group before giving Euronymous a kiss on the cheek and pulling out of his embrace before walking over to the various guys.

She was more than ready. ,,Hi I'm Y/n...nice bandana where did you get that?" she asked the first one, shaking his hand eagerly before pulling the bandana hanging around his neck towards her. ,,It comes in pink too, I hope," she murmured and let go of him again with a grateful look. ,,Of course you can get it in pink in all colours...Hellhammer we could go and get some together" he replied quickly to her cheerful manner and shook her hand before returning to his beer and giving Euronymous a thumbs up for her.

Before she went over to the one with the lighter and shook his hand as well. Intrigued, she ran her hand over one of the soft strands of the boy's hair and said, ,,Wow, they're really soft...you must tell me about your hair care routine".

This seemed to throw the stranger slightly off track, but almost in spite of himself he began to write his routine on an old sarviert. ,,Here, it's not expensive at all, I'm Varg, by the way, I also have nice hair," he said and suddenly seemed almost embarrassed and quietened down before he sat down on a chair again and was quiet.

Putting the serving dish in her little bag, she went over to the boy with the knife. ,,You have a cute smile...what kind of sacrifice is that?" she complimented him and made a happy noise as she saw his cheeks turn a bright pink and he just put the knife away and shook his head slightly. Before he calmly said, ,,I'm Faust...not a victim, just a joke" and quickly took a long hit of his beer.

Nodding, she shook the hand of the guy next to Faust with the necklace before proudly holding it out to him. ,,You definitely need one with Hello Kitty, the colour would suit you," she said, and only heard the more than overbearing guy mutter an ,,Occultus" before leaning against Faust and giving him a searching look. Before she almost killed poor Pelle, who looked as if he would throw himself into Faust's knife.

She grabbed his face and turned it slightly from left to right. Before she said to Euronymous, ,,My little vampire, you never told me how pretty he is, you're missing make-up", she let go of Pelle and bounced happily back to her friend, who was watching the whole thing with a big grin. Before he pulled her to him, gave her a heartfelt kiss and wrapped his arm around her waist.

No one dared to say a word. ,,I see you are very good with the boys" he said delightedly and she just smiled proudly. To be more precise, she had the boys so well under control and she was so excited about herself that the evening ended in a Disney marathon, that's for sure.

She wasn't the one who cried at the death of bambies mother, but a certain black coven did. And since then she has been the pink shining exception of the black circle or simply the pink princess of black metal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mayhem-things , @bvg-w1res , @beldamama

[doudouneverte]

Unfinished task

a/n: it took me a lot of time to finish it sorry...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Lena Oberdorf x AWFC!Reader; Arsenal WFC x NEDWNT!Reader

Summary: Based on this (requested by anon)

Type: Fluff

Warning: me,tion of heart attack and nothing else (i think)

word count: 4983 (sorry)

----------

2018/19

This season, everything changed for you. To start, you made your first step and scored your first goals in Frauen Bundelsiga for Essen with your best friend Lena Oberdorf. Talking about the German player, you and her were known to be pretty close; your mom raised you alone, and she was not very surprised when you told her that you wanted to play football. Growing up in a family of football fans who had some relatives who played with the legend Johan Cruff helped. You started with a boy team, and that's where you met Lena; she was also a girl, pretty good, and despite her roughness on the pitch, you quickly became friends. She was a solid midfielder when you were a more agile and versatile player.

Life couldn't be better for you, but that's when we're talking about the second reason this season is so special for you. A few weeks before the end of the season, you planned to take a new step in your and Lena's relationship. You started to see her as more than a friend a few months after she assisted one of your goals. But life is not always so simple and so great.

In May, during a training session, the coach told you that your mom had a heart attack at work. Her life wasn't in danger, but they allowed you to leave earlier. At the hospital, the doctor told you that your mom overworked, and this was certainly caused by the stress. Your mom didn't tell you, but you knew she worked more than necessary to be sure she could attend your game without any work left to be able to celebrate with you every time you win.

But the worst happened when the doctor told you that she would need an aldut around to make sure it didn't happen. Another adult—that was the problem. You never really met your father; your mom divorced him when she learned that he cheated on her when she was pregnant. Of course you could call your grandma, but she was in Netherland, and you knew she was a little too old to keep an eye on you and your mom, and then the only available option was your aunt Marina.

After you called your aunt, she immediately booked a flight. You knew that in this situation, you had to do something you would probably regret your whole life. You had a meeting with the coaching staff to ask them something, and just before your last match, you had your response: at the end of the season, after only a few matches, you'd be a free agent and leave the country.

The girls knew nothing about that—well,  maybe just one, but you knew that if you had told her, she would make you doubt, but you couldn't. It was only when you were at the airport that you wished her good luck for the next season and told her about your departure.

2019/20

It's been more than two years since you left Germany. Of course, at first things weren't easy; you spent the first part of the 2019–2020 season literally jobless. You didn't have clubs; you continued to train on your own, but you spent almost all your time helping your aunt at her work. That was like this until you ran into someone you didn't expect to see after all these months: Vivianne Miedema, and she wasn't alone; she was with Jill Roord and Danielle Van De Donk.

Of course you knew who the forward was; she was literally one of your models when you started your career, but what you didn't know was that she knew you. After a few talks, you explained to her why you were not in Germany and, more importantly, why you hadn't played since the start of the season.

They were truly sorry for you and said they wished they could do anything, but you assured them that they couldn't do anything for that and that you would eventually try to found a new club even if you had to spend the rest of the season training by yourself. Apparently they decided to take things in her perfectly because only a few days later you received an unexpected call to let you know that after the three Dutch players talked about you to their head coach, Arsenal was open to giving you a chance, but you'd have to wait until the winter transfer window to offiacilize everything wich you accepted without thinking.

Until then, you continued your routine: help your aunt in her job—well, being not really qualified for it meant you just moved boxes all day, and after that, you spent some time with your mom and sneaked out in the night to train. That was like this until you signed. In Germany, Lena was attracting the interest of a few clubs when she saw the news. She wasn't really attracted to the WSL until then, and honestly, if it weren't for random posts on her Instagram feed, she would surely have missed it.

The midfielder wanted to call you to tell you that she was proud and happy for you that you could play again after what happened, but she knew you wouldn't reply. It was selfish, but since you moved, you gradually stopped speaking to your ex-teammates. At first, you said to yourself that was because you would probably drop the football a few months after you landed in London, but you finally accepted the reality. You didn't want to have anything that reminded you of the incident, but you were also too cowardly to say all the things you never said to her.

Your debuts were pretty good; of course you started on the bench, but when the coach gave you your chance, you took it. You even scored in your first London derby against Chelsea, and even if you lost, everyone could see that you were more talented than anyone else. But unfortunately, COVID came, and with that, the end of the season.

2022/23 

A lot of things happened during those three years: first, your mom found a new job in your aunt's company; second, you signed another deal with the London club; and finally, the most important thing: you made your first steps for your national team. Being a Dutch player raised in Germany, the two federations wanted you in their team, but you decided to represent your mom and also spend more time with Viv, who had basically become your big sister since you joined the Gunners.

And it was with your oranje kit that you properly saw Lena for the first time in almost four years. Yes, Arsenal faced Wolfsburg last season in Champions League, but you were injured, so you couldn't play. During your pitch inspection, you noticed someone staring at you. You tried to distract yourself by talking with Esme and Vicky, but you were cut off when Lynn and Jill said that some of their Wolfsburg teammates wanted to meet you.

If Viv was your calm and collected big sister, Jill otherwise wanted to be the cool one. She always did some dumb thing to make you smile and see her as cool as she was. Lynn quickly grew into a very close friend of yours, even with the distance. After reluctantly agreeing, you made your way with the two girls to the German players.

Here you were in front of Lina Magull and Sydney Lohmann, who just got kicked out of the Champions League because of you, but like Jill said, there were also some Wolfsburg players, and that's how you found yourself shyly waving to Alex Popp, Feli Rauch, Svenja Huth, Jule Brand, and the only real familiar face, Lena Oberdorf.

Except for Viv (who was not there), Jill, and Dom (who knew how to put two and two together), nobody really knew about you and Lena. Well,  some knew you played together, but nobody knew you were very close friends, and you messed up (almost) everything after you moved to London.

"Guys, this is Y/n, she's a little shy, but she's very good on the pitch." Jill introduced you proudly.

"We already know that." Lina said, and you looked at your feet.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "but you are very good too." You added a little, unsure of what else you could say.

"Wait, are you the same Y/n who played for Essen with Lena?" Jule asked, and when you saw Jill smirk, you knew it was something she planned.

"Uh, yeah." You looked at Lena "Yeah, it was a good moment." You smiled lightly, but it was enough to be noticed by the midfilder. Something in you wanted to pull her away from anyone and tell her that you were sorry about everything, but before that, you had a game to play.

The game went pretty well, even if you lost only 1-0. You showed one of your best performances on the pitch until you got subbed off. After the final whistle, you made your way to congregate with the opponents. When Sydney asked for a jersey swap, you accepted, and the Bayern player was floating in your jersey. Her teammates didn't miss the opportunity to comment on what made Lena feel something—something she thought she had been above for a while now.

In the tunnel, you were talking with Dom when Lena came, slightly interrupting you, but the older Dutch player didn't seem to be bothered by that. "Can we talk?" She asked, and you nodded before following her. "So..." she started before pausing for a moment. "You played really well."

"Thanks, you too. It reminds me of when we were in the old time." You responded and almost instantly cringed at your word choice "Well, it's not that we're so old or anything; it's just that..."

"It's just that it's been a while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, that's it." There was a little silence after your reply, like you were both processing what you just said.

"You...you've changed a lot since 2019."

"Uh, yeah, I grew up a little."

"And you did a little work out?"

"Oh that's? It's a funny story; when I went to London, I was free of any club, and I started to work for my aunt's company, but she just assigned me to the physical job, and after I signed for Arsenal, I kept doing this, and here I am now." You chuckled lightly at the end.

"I think it's funny that when we were little, I was the one who looked like a boy, and now look at you...you're...handsome." You lowered your head, hoping that Lena didn't see you blush at her compliment.

"Thanks, you are beautiful too." Now it was her turn to blush. "Maybe one day we should—" you couldn't finish your sentence before Alex called her teammate "I think it's our cue to leave," you said, and she nodded and quickly hugged you before she left.

Later this night, you sent her a DM on Instagram. You talked a lot, and before you forgot, you gave her your new phone number. Back in London, you were still in your little cloud until Vicky reminded you that your next opponent in the Champions League would be Wolfsburg, but before that, you had a game against Manchester United, where you unfortunately lost Leah.

At the end of April, you were in Germany, ready to play one of the biggest games of the season. The two teams made their way onto the pitch, and like everyone except  you were on the starting eleven. It was funny to see you being almost taller than every player, knowing that you were one of the younger. Your job today was to stop Sveindis' offensive and try to assist Stina in the box.

What should be a hard game became almost impossible when you were tackled by Lena for the first time rather early in the match. Lying on the grass, you took a moment to stand up until two people held you theirs hands. You unconsciously took one of them, and instantly, when your skin touched others, you felt a familiar warmth. On your feet, you were not disappointed when you saw Lena in front of you. She seemed a little worried, but you reassured her with a smile and a gentle tap on her shoulder. That was something she used to do every time an opponent was rough with you, and it became your thing to show that you cared about each other.

The match didn't go as planned, but you still gained a draw before the game at the Emirates. Back in London, you proposed to Lena that you see her before the next game. You told her that your mom wanted to see her. You felt relieved when she finally accepted, and now you had to wait a week to see her.

One week later, you were in your bedroom, emptying your wardrobe with Viv and Beth, trying to choose an outfit for the day. "Well, why don't you try the outfit that Daan brought you for your birthday?" the Dutch asked.

"I lost it," you instantly replied.

"How can you—" Beth started before being interrupted by another voice.

"Y/n always lost or forgot things," Jill said throught your phone. She proposed to help you with Lynn, so you facetimed them a few minutes ago, but they were more focused on whatever the young Dutch was watching on her phone. "Do you remember when she almost forgot her boots before a Champions League game?"

"Oh, come on, it was once," you groaned.

"Yes, but if Viv wasn't there, you would have spent the game on the bench." Beth reminded you.

"Okay, I think we got it; now can we focus on the really important thing?"

"Yeah, girls, let's focus. We're talking about Y/n's first date since a while." Lynn said, and you groaned again.

"It's not a date; it's just a lunch with my mom." You said.

"It's not?" The two girls thought the phone asked at the same time. "So why do you need us to pick an outfit?" Jill added.

"Because...because I promised to my mom that I'd try to wear something other than a jogger, and it's been a long time since I spent a whole time almost alone with Lena, so I want to look good."

"If you want to look good, you can just go without a shirt." Jill joked, making Lynn and Beth laugh, while Viv just sighed. Sorry, but well, you built a good body, so why not show her?"

"Is that even a serious question?" Viv asked while you picked some clothes in the big bazaar.

"Okay, I'll be right back," you said before exiting the room. The girls were talking until you received a text from Lena. Well, from what your teammates could see, 'Obi💪🧸'.

Obi💪🧸:

Ich bin auf dem Weg (I'm on my way) 

You came back just when Viv was about to call you. Your two Arsenal teammates looked at you; they didn't say anything; they just let you get a little unsure if it was a good choice of cloth, but when you were about to speak, you heard Lynn and Jill cheering you on the other side of the phone.

"Go catch the girl," the midfielder said, and you rolled your eyes before you took your phone and saw the text from Lena. You didn't wait more before you left a little anxious, even if you didn't know why.

This afternoon was perfect; your mom was more than happy to see Lena again, and she didn't miss embarrassing you in front of her. When you drove her back to her hotel, you took some time to apologize about your departure a few years ago, but she told you that it was okay because she knew you couldn't do something about that. And after that, there was the game in London.

-----

At the end of the game, you lost 2-3. You were more than gutted, of course; you conced a goal in the last minutes of extra time. The Wolfsburg players came to congratulate you, and even if you found it cruel, you were still professional. Dom stayed with you until she was sure you were okay. Of course, Viv, Jill, and Lynn also came to check on you. You were trying not to be too emotional when Lena approached you. The Dutch players exchanged a look and gave you a quick glance to make sure you were alright before they let you with the German midfielder.

In this moment, a lot of thought invaded Lena's mind. She wanted to hug you to tell you it was okay and you fought pretty well, but she also knew that as someone who plays to win, it was not something she would want to hear herself. So she just gently rubbed your arm and gave you a weak smile. It was fascinating that even after all these years, she still understood you so much. "It was a tough game," she said, and you nodded. "I'm very happy and proud to see you play again, even if it would be better if we played together."

"You can come play here," you remarked, making her look at you with wide eyes. "I mean, if you want, of course. I don't want to force you to leave everyone; it's just that I miss playing with you too." You confessed, "And I'm sure you'd kill it in red." You joked.

"Thanks, but I'm not ready to leave my green shirt for now. But..." she started, making you raise your eyebrow to her. "But you can let me try yours to see if you're right." she explained. It took you some time to process what she meant, but when you did, you couldn't stop a little smile from appearing on your face.

"Very smooth, Oberdorf," you replied while you started to take off your shirt. Today was not particularly hot, but Lena sensed a hot wave rising in her body until it reached her face, and she started to blush. "And here for you," you said, holding her your shirt. Her eyes lost themselves a little on your tall figure before she took it and "maybe" brushed your fingers together on purpose.

She thanked you, and when she was about to take off hers, you stopped her. You didn't say anything until you quickly walked away toward Dom, who was talking with Feli. Lena had her eyes fixed on you through the entire process when you talked to the defender before she left you with her teammates and then came back with what seemed to be a Wolfsburg vest that she gave you, and you made your way back to your best friend.

"Where were you going?"

"I just needed that," you said, showing her the vest.

"For?" You covered her with her vest just enough to let her take off her shirt, protecting her from the public's view.

"Wow, did I miss an episode or something?" Vicky asked some players next to her when she saw what you did. The women around—who were basically all your team and some of Lena's teammates—turned their heads to where the Dutch were looking.

"Oh, Daan will really like that." Lynn was visibly excited to tell your national teammates that.

"Are they dating?" Gio asked.

"No, not yet, but don't worry," Jill said just loud enough to be heard by Dom, who was next to her and earning a strange look from Viv because of the expression she was making.

After your jersey swap, you walked with Lena to where you let almost everyone. You were close, but not close enough to permit anyone to misinterpret anything. Sometimes your arms would touch her while you were walking, and those little touches made you feel something deep in you. In the tunnel, you stopped her a little far away from the group, and the German looked at you with a confused look.

"Can you promise me something?" You started, and when she nodded, you continued, "Promise me that whatever happens in the final, you will not win."

"Yeah, I promise—wait, what?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

"But I want to win."

"And me too, but I want you to win the Champions League with me. That was your idea when we were little," you reminded her, and she laughed.

"I can't promise you that."

"Well, at least I tried," you joked. "More seriously, good luck for the final; I will come to see you."

"Thank you, and I wish you come. It would be different if you can't be there."

Later on the bus, Lena was questioned by a lot of her teammates. She knew that even if they were tired because of previous events, they wouldn't stop until they had their answers. But even if the German plaeyer was more than happy from your last interaction together, she felt like it was too soon to hope about something, despite all the teasing from her teammates and Jill's confession about the fact that she didn't see you so comfortable around someone other than Dom and Viv. While the midfielder was stuck with everyone's attention, the Dutch defender texted you, first to know how you were doing after you had to leave the pitch because of a bad tackle and then to ask you something about one of her next matches.

----

Two days later, you were told that your little injury would make you miss the next two games. You mentally cursed yourself because you knew when you went to the ball that you wouldn't avoid getting hit by the defender. Tryin not to overthink, you asked to take at least one week for you, which the coach was happy to give you. You used this week to help Laura and Leah with their injuries; you also spent some time with your mom and your aunt before you booked a flight to Germany. You don't know how, but your mom told you a few days prior that someone sent you a ticket for the DFB-Pokal final between Wolfsburg and Freiburg.

At the airport, you were surprised to see Lynn and Jill waiting for you. They helped you with your luggage, and they explained to you that the ticket was Dom's idea. Of course it was hers; she always perfectly knew how to read you, so when she saw how Lena talked about you and how you acted, she knew for you that somehow you may have the chance to finish what you couldn't a few years ago.

On the day of the final, the VfL locker room was more secretive than usual—at least that's what Lena was thinking. Except for Lena, all the players knew something special could have happened today. Sensing the weird atmosphere and some gazes on her, the midfielder asked Jule what was happening, but after a quick glance to her teammates, she found the courage to keep her mouth shut, even if it was more suspicious. But the short brunette didn't have too much time to think about it because they had to warm up before the kickoff.

The game started like usual, and at halftime, the two teams were 1-1. Even if the girls in black and green were a little pissed by the result, they were more concerned by something else: Lena hadn't spotted you in the crown yet. But it was a good thing; that meant she was totally focused on the game and nothing else. Back from the locker room, fifteen minutes later, you saw Lena talking with Sveindis, and the midfielder seemed to sense your eyes on her because she suddenly stopped and was about to search for a reason for this strange feeling, but she was met with Alex instantly. The striker looked at her teammates with a confused look before Lena shoved the strange feeling away and made herself ready for the second half.

Like you expected from them, Wolfsburg easily won at the end of full time. The joy quickly erupted from one side of the stadium, and of course, you were among the ones who were celebrating. After a few minutes, you waited for them to give both teams their medals and the cup for your best friend's teammates, and then you were escorted by a guy from security to the pitch to your own surprise. Once on the pitch, you were quickly dragged to the group of players by Lynn, and there you congratulated the girls until you found yourself behind a certain number 5. Ewa Pajor was talking to Lena until she saw you; she just looked at you and excused herself to her teammates.

A little confused Lena decided to search for Jule, but when she took a step back, she collided with someone, and when she turned around to apologize, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She blinked her eyes quickly, making you laugh, and when she heard your voice, she finally found her voice back. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Oh, rude. I thought you would be happy to see me," you replied.

She stood there for a moment, processing everything, and when she came back to her senses, she enveloped you in a tight hug. It took you by surprise, but you finished by reciprocating the hug. With her, everything seemed easier. The little touches, the confessions, the hugs and–and now it clicked in your mind, an almost forgotten feeling.

"I thought you wouldn't see me play until June, but wait, aren't you supposed to have a match this weekend?"

"Yeah, but thanks to a certain defender, I sprained my ankle, so I can't play for now, but I should be alright for the next week." You informed her.

"Oh, that sucks" she commented.

"Yeah, but I should be back in training the next Monday," you assured her.

"I see," she said, looking around to see a lot of eyes on her. "Uh, actually, it's cool that you are here because there is something I have wanted to ask you for a moment now."

"Uh, yeah, me too, actually." You smiled when you saw her surprised expression, but you couldn't brush away all the attention. "Do you mind if we go somewhere a little more calm?" She nodded, and you followed her a little farther in the tunnel. You stood there for a few seconds without saying anything; you were just admiring her. "So, first, congratulations for your victory; it was a great game; you played very well, like always." She blushed at your praise, "but I'm here for another thing. I want to tell you something, but please don't interrupt me until I finish, right?" After a little hesitation, she nodded.

"Okay, I don't know where to start, so I'll just start from the beginning. I wanted to apologize again for letting you go without telling you anything a few years ago. I know you already accept my excuses, but I need to tell you why I did what I did. At first, I planned to ask you out for the end of the season, and then it happened what happened but I didn't have the courage to talk to you about it because I feared that somehow you would reject me, so I used my travel as an excuse to stop talking to you. But then, there was this friendly game when I saw you, and when you didn't seem to be angry by that, I realized that I messed up. And after that, there was our first game in the Champions League, and my crush for you came back. Well,  it's not really a crush; it's a strongest feeling. It's like I'm–"

"In love?" Lena interrupted you.

"Uh, yeah, but how do you?"

"Because I feel it too. Honestly, I should be angry about everything, and I was when you left me, but then I learned what happened with your mom and I saw you play for Arsenal, and it was like all the anger dissipated because I had seen you for a long time and you seemed happy. I wanted to ask you out too before you moved out, but I never had the chance. I don't even know how long I've fallen in love for you, but I don't know it's—I don't know."

"It's easy?" You asked, and her look told you that it was exactly what she was searching for. "Me too. I don't know why, but it's so easy to fall for you. I don't know if it's because of your eyes, your smile, your heart, or everything, but yeah, I love you. So, after four years, I can finally say this: Lena, would you go with me tonight on a date?"

The midfielder wrapped her arms around your neck before slowly approaching your face. She gave you enough time to push her, but when you didn't, she kissed you. You only pulled appar when you needed some oxygen, and Lena was giving one of her brightest smiles.

"So?" you asked when you remembered she didn't give you a proper answer.

"I would love to."

"Great, I'll pick you up at 7 p.m." you said before quickly pecking her lips when you heard some footsteps coming in your direction. Lena's teammates found you totally engulfed in Lena's little body. You saw Jill and Lynn exchanging excited faces while Dom seemed to be proud of her work.

After the team saw the two of you, you were required by almost all the youngest players and Jill to explain what happened. Dom stayed behind with a blushing Lena: "I told you," the denfender told her. The midfielder just looked at her and gave her a hug to thank her.

[gunsandspaceships]

Shall we play a game? Answers

Here I'll explain why the correct answers are:

Drinks when upset (Steve)

Criticizes everyone (Steve)

Obeys orders (Tony)

Doesn’t trade lives (Tony)

Worked for politicians for personal gain (Steve)

Good shooter (Tony)

Kissed 4 different women after starting a relationship with his partner (Steve)

Asks others for help and advice when needed (Tony)

Drinks when upset - Steve

He can't get drunk, but that doesn't mean he doesn't drink. And he does this when he is upset for some reason. In Captain America: The First Avenger, it was Bucky's death; in Civil War (extended funeral scene), it was Peggy's death.

There is not a single scene in the entire MCU where Tony drank because he was upset.

Criticizes everyone - Steve

I didn't remember that until I started working on the "Nice Guy" Contest and watched every scene with Cap in every movie he was, as well as every scene in every movie with the other OG6 Avengers. And it caught my attention - how often Steve criticizes other people: Fury, Nat, Tony, Bruce, Thor, even Peggy. I even got tired of this.

One of the examples:

Obeys orders - Tony

Steve spent his entire military/paramilitary career doing the opposite - refusing to follow orders and criticizing his commanders. In any hierarchical organization, be it SSR, SHIELD or the Avengers, he took control. Tony, despite being the owner of the Avengers, obeyed him and followed Rogers' orders.

Doesn't trade lives - Tony

Even though it was Steve who said, “We don't trade lives,” he traded them. And more than once. As our winners mentioned, he traded the lives of Wakandans in Infinity War. In Civil War he traded the lives of civilians, special ops operatives, agents (they were killed or injured), Clint (his freedom and life with his family), Scott (his freedom and even life - he didn't stop him when Scott offered to do something that could "split him in half"), Sam (dragged into danger), Wanda (same), Sharon (who risked several times to help him), Nat (who also would be safe if not him), Rhodey (who wouldn't have been injured if Rogers hadn't started the fight), Peter (who he could have killed with the boarding bridge he brought down on him), and Tony. He traded them all for one man and the right to continue to command without anyone above him.

In Endgame, his plan was to bring back 50% of the universe. Before Tony and Bruce explained to them how time travel actually works, the plan was to erase everything that happened after 2018. This means all the people who have been born since then and everything that has happened to the remaining 50% over the years.

Tony had to intervene anyway because they would have done terrible things if he hadn't told them not to change anything in those 5 years. He is the one who does not trade lives.

Even when he is told he can't save everyone - he tries. And sometimes he proves that he can.

Worked for politicians for personal gain - Steve

That's how Steve became captain, in case you forgot.

And that's what Tony never did - work for politicians for personal gain.

Good shooter - Tony

You can find it here:

Kissed 4 different women after starting a relationship with his partner - Steve

In 1940s Steve started a relationship with Peggy Carter. Since then he kissed:

Howard's secretary

Unknown woman (or man? who knows)

Natasha

And Sheron, Carter

Ever since Tony started his relationship with Pepper, he hadn't kissed anyone else. Or did anything else of that sort of things.

Asks others for help and advice when needed - Tony

Steve asked for help. He brought a bunch of people to risk everything and start a fight in Civil War, for example. He never asked for advice though. He always has his own opinion, it is always the right one and he doesn't need anyone else's.

On the other hand - Tony is not above asking others for help, as well as asking for advice and opinions.

[olderthannetfic]

The pandemic caused fandom and fics to go mainstream amongst the popular kids too, and the results are... interesting?

It's mostly Dramione, from what I can see, and these people have no knowledge of general fandom etiquette (see: the number of authors who spent years of their lives crafting fics that became very well known amongst readers, and then decided to take them down because too many people were turning them into printed books and selling them on Etsy) and most times are very, very rude and entitled, HOWEVER, when people say this is all new behavior and "back in my day people didn't do this," my nose wrinkles and I immediately doubt the amount of time they've spent in fandom.

Because I've been around for a long, long time, and I know for a fact that, before readers started "uploading" fics on Goodreads so that they could review them like professionally published books, there were review blogs, there were snark Facebook pages, there were "flame" blogs. Even Wattpad played a hand at this, as there were people who had "review books."

And the people who administered these blogs and Facebook pages and whatnots would consider themselves (and be considered) like enlightened literature professors, the people who could tell you what you could write and how you could write it. These pages were so popular that, if they decided to snark about your fic, you were bound to receive handfuls of negative comments making fun of you, your work, and your writing.

I went looking on a blog that used to be really popular before the authors behind it stopped posting (in 2018), and in 2009 they were already bragging about having reached 200k monthly readers. The blog went on to become even better known in the following years, so we can only imagine how many hundreds of thousands of reads they'd get each month for their snarky fic reviews that were mostly spent calling the authors illiterate idiots.

The only time I noticed a lull in this kind of behavior was about a couple of years before COVID, which I guess makes sense, considering that both Harry Potter and Twilight hadn't received any kind of "update" since 2012, Justin Bieber's last album was released in 2015, and One Direction was rumored to have secretly disbanded, and for a very long time the main fandoms that were snarked about were these four.

The only meaningful difference, from then and now, is that now people are more willing to put their faces on it.

--

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (7)

Chapter 7 — Mr. And Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader

Word count: 7,856

Summary: There is more than meets the eye, and Bucky is suspicious. What is everyone hiding?

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos, brief nudity? (blink and you'll miss it)

Note: Sorry, it's been a while. Enjoy!

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

"Today I know that such memories are the key not to the past, but to the future."

— Corrie Ten Boom

May 4th, 2018

He never understood what triggered it, but he found himself reliving it at odd times. The figure always sneaked up on Bucky in his dreams with an eerie silence, draped in shades of gray and brown.

"You really don't remember me?" the figure would taunt.

Bucky's responding grin was almost derogatory. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to?" He dismissed the flicker of familiarity attempting to crawl up his spine.

"You've changed."

He chuckled, deciding to humour the person. "Have I now?"

"You used to keep your promises."

"Did I?" Bucky slowly loosened the restraints behind his back, reaching for the concealed metal in his waistband. "You hit my head pretty hard earlier. I don't remember much."

"At least you kept your stupid sense of humour."

Bucky scoffed, spitting out the blood that pooled in his mouth from his bleeding nose. "You think you know me?"

"I do."

He shook his head. "You don't," he retorted. "You don't know me." The click of the safety turning off made them both pause. "And you never will." Years of training propelled him into action. The figure collapsed on the floor before the gunshot could reverberate through the room.

He stood tall over the lifeless form. "I always keep my promises."

May 4th, 2018

Bucky was beyond pissed. So far, his entire day had passed attending to one matter or another, making call after call instead of getting to know his wife. Not that she was in a state to talk.

Hmm, his little wife had been unconscious for nearly eighteen hours since she fainted in church. Bucky would have been seriously concerned if it weren't for the French maid and her reassurances. Fran—was that her name?—had informed him that the girl hadn't slept properly in over a week. Stress, she claimed, though Bucky suspected a deeper meaning behind the word. The way the maid narrowed her green eyes and tilted her reddish-blonde head hinted at something more.

The mobster took large swigs of Scotch straight from the decanter. Earlier, when the flight attendant came by to pour him a glass, Bucky had unleashed his rage, barking at him to leave the whole thing and disappear. He was in no mood for small talk.

A pounding headache throbbed in Bucky's temples. The entire day had been a whirlwind of problems. First, waking up to discover Phil Coulson dead. Dealing with Rollins' men—though that was stress relieving, at least.

Then, being brutally attacked outside the church, resulting in the need to dispose of the body in the East River, where the strong currents would erase any traces of foul play.

And let's not forget the spectacle that was his wedding. Fuck. The fucking wedding. And the shitshow that followed after. Bucky had so many questions. So many things he needed to address.

He hadn't been married a day, and already his wife was causing him problems. Bucky was exhausted, drowsy, and to make matters worse, he was overwhelmingly aroused.

With a scowl, Bucky downed the last of his Scotch, then glanced at his watch to see if he had enough time to address his growing... predicament.

He didn't.

They would reach Constanţa in half an hour, the estate in one. Bucky couldn't wait. Suddenly, his phone lit up with an incoming call, causing him to huff before ending it. Not even a minute passed before Danial Burgundy's caller ID appeared again. God, the man was persistent. After ignoring twelve calls, he still tested Bucky's patience.

"What do you want, you sick fuck?" Bucky answered impulsively.

The man on the other end sounded amused. "Hello to you too, James."

"Cut the bullshit, Danial. I'm in no mood for small talk." Danial was the last person Bucky wanted to talk to, especially after their conversation in New York. The older man was lucky he was Bucky's father-in-law now, or he'd already be six feet under.

"Right. Straight down to business then," Danial sighed. "I want to speak to my daughter."

Bucky scoffed dismissively. "No ace."

Annoyance tinged Danial's response. "Don't tell me—"

"She's taking a nap," Bucky interrupted. "She can't talk right now."

"I don't fucking believe you, James."

"I don't care." Bucky didn't give a damn about what Danial thought of him.

"Listen, asshole," Danial began losing his temper, "I know you've always been a good-for-nothing motherfucker, but—"

"Is that why you gave her to me?" Bucky taunted, a sardonic grin on his face. "Is that why you gave me everything?" That seemed to silence Danial, at least for the moment.

"Because I'm a good-for-nothing motherfucker?" Bucky chuckled, acknowledging a minor defeat. "I'll admit, you caught me off guard before with the stipulation you threw in my face, but don't think you have the upper hand here." Adrenaline coursed through Bucky's body as he further provoked Danial. "I got what I wanted. I didn't even have to work for it. You handed it to me on a silver platter." He prepared himself for the final blow. "In fact, I've already begun fulfilling that condition of yours." Bucky clicked his tongue. "No complaints so far. She's amazing."

"You bastard!" Danial exploded.

Yes, Bucky was being vulgar. Danial had forced his hand to leave for their honeymoon two days earlier, and Bucky didn't appreciate it.

He hushed Danial. "You'll wake her up. I tired her out. She needs all the rest she can get."

And there it was, the silent row of defeat. Danial sighed, audibly distressed. "She's still my daughter," the coward insisted.

"No, she's not," Bucky retorted, not to mock but to state a fact. He shrugged nonchalantly. "She's not yours. Not anymore. She's mine. She became mine the second I signed your papers."

"You Barnes' have always been greedy," Danial sneered. "Wanting what's not yours. Not giving a shit who gets hurt in the process. Fucking murderers."

"And you Burgundys have always been manipulative bastards," Bucky spat. "Pulling underhanded shit. Whoring out your women for a quick buck."

"You little—"

"Then that's exactly how I'll treat her. Like a slut, a fucking whore."

Danial's breath hitched on the other end of the line.

Bingo.

"No! Wait, no! Barnes, don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare fucking touch her—"

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Bucky ended the call.

The moon hung low in the sky, making way for the impending sunrise in a couple of hours. Bucky tossed his phone onto the seat opposite him and turned his attention to the porthole, gazing out at the soft glow beginning to fill the horizon.

They should be flying over Pitești by now, en route to Constanța. It felt good to be back home. Bucky stretched his arms above his head, contemplating Danial's reaction. If he didn't know any better, he might have mistaken Danial's tone for genuine concern about his daughter. Fortunately, Bucky knew better. With most of Danial's cards laid out on the table, Bucky would respond accordingly, starting with his bride.

Suddenly, the cabin door opened, causing Bucky to whip his head around, prepared to unleash his anger on the intruder. It was his bride, leaning against the entrance of the small bedroom at the back.

She still wore her wedding dress, barefoot and breathing heavily, cheeks flushed and hair rumpled. Her gaze wandered around the cabin in a daze, clutching the door frame in a white fist when the plane encountered slight turbulence.

"You're awake," Bucky broke the silence.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings as she took in their location. "Where am I?" she croaked.

Bucky frowned, realizing she must be thirsty. "Sit," he commanded instead of answering. His wife blinked owlishly, staring at him as if he had grown another head. A faint smile threatened to emerge. "Don't make me drag you here," he muttered. "Because I will."

His wife snapped to attention, unsteadily walking across the aisle, leaning against the empty seats for support. The image stirred something pleasurable in Bucky's mind. She halted across from him, hesitating to sit when she noticed his phone perched precariously on the edge of the armrest.

When Bucky reached over to retrieve the device, he let his arm brush against her leg. It was a gentle graze against the white lace that, nonetheless, left her flustered. Bucky smirked, savouring the sound of his wife's hitched breath.

The girl slowly lowered herself onto the brown leather, almost robotic in her movements. Her back remained rigid, and she wouldn't look at him. Why wouldn't she look at him? Bucky didn't like that. The table separating them was the only thing preventing him from reaching over and forcing her eyes to meet his.

Bucky pressed the overhead call button, his gaze fixed on the girl. He noticed black smudged under her eyes and lipstick smeared around her mouth. How many hours had it been since the ceremony? Too many and not enough. Her features appeared more striking in the natural light than in the harsh illumination of the church.

And there, when her eyes flicked up ever so slightly at the sound of the call button, Bucky recognized that same dead look from before, the one she had when he leaned in for a kiss that never happened because she fainted. It was more subtle, tamped down, but still present, difficult to ignore and even harder to comprehend.

Bucky summoned the flustered flight attendant and ordered food, water, and another Scotch. He may not have been hungry, but he assumed she was.

"Drink," Bucky pushed the glass of water toward her. She was playing with her fingers, gaze fixed on her lap.

"Where am I?" she breathed.

Bucky frowned when she didn't immediately comply. "Drink," he demanded with more force, pushing the water closer. He watched as she brought the glass to her lips with trembling hands and took a small sip.

"Where—"

"More," he interrupted with dissatisfaction. She was an impatient one.

Bucky thought he heard her huff in annoyance but disregarded it as she began to take hesitant sips that soon turned into large gulps, causing water to trickle down the sides of her mouth.

The glass was empty within seconds.

"We're in Constanța," Bucky answered her earlier question.

She looked up at him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. Bucky was hit with a sudden urge to kiss her.

"Excuse me?"

"Constanța, Romania," Bucky clarified. "I have a family house in Mamaia. We'll be landing in ten minutes."

Bucky leaned back in his seat and sipped his Scotch, raising an eyebrow at the girl's obvious shock. The slight burn of alcohol felt pleasant, immediately relaxing him.

She glanced around the cabin, blinking owlishly. She seemed flustered. "I don't have—" She took a deep breath. "Why are we in Romania?"

Bucky couldn't help but smile. "Why do you think? What do newlyweds usually do after getting married?"

He waited for the realization to dawn on her, watching as she trembled and shied away. Bucky wondered how experienced she was if a simple innuendo left her so flustered. He couldn't wait to find out.

She still wouldn't look at him.

"Where's my father?" the girl asked, her question directed at the floor.

It appeared the Burgundy princess was close to her last remaining parent. "Danial?" Bucky sneered, unable to suppress his annoyed scoff. "In New York, where he belongs."

She seemed taken aback. Her lips parted, and she straightened her posture in attention.

Bucky narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Flustered, she started to answer but then froze, her eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't quite discern. She shook her head furiously. "Nothing."

Bucky's suspicion grew tenfold. He was ready to interrogate her, but she interrupted him.

"And my friend?" she asked desperately. "Where is she?"

"Hmm," Bucky mused. "The blonde with the big mouth?" He missed the expression on her face as he finished the rest of his drink. "Dove, was it?"

"N-no," the girl denied. "She's French."

It took a second for Bucky to recall, and once he did, he couldn't help but smile.

"The French maid? She stayed with you after the ceremony. I talked to her about—"

"Well, is she here?" the girl cut him off.

Bucky met her eyes, and the second he did, she averted her gaze. Acting on instinct, he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You interrupted me."

He watched as her breath quickened and her irises dilated. Bucky waited for a verbal response, but she remained frozen, struck dumb by his intimidating presence. "You're lucky you're cute," Bucky said, finally releasing her.

She seemed to deflate the second he retreated from her personal space and mirrored his relaxed posture, melting into her seat as if suddenly drained.

"Eat," Bucky ordered, pouring a finger's worth of Scotch into his glass and pushing it toward her.

An indescribable tension filled the air, an unspoken awkwardness. Which was to be expected, Bucky supposed, since this was their formal introduction. The girl shook her head. "I'm not hungry," she whispered.

Bucky downed the rest of his Scotch, keeping his gaze fixed on her. Her discomfort in his presence was palpable, incredibly aware of him with how she uncomfortably squirmed in her seat.

"Eat," he repeated, the finality in his voice leaving no room for argument. The girl obediently picked up the fork, ready to dig into the food. The meal consisted of a variety of fresh fruits, sweet and savoury pastries, and various breakfast proteins. She nibbled on a melon, taking such small bites that Bucky became frustrated.

The pilot's voice came through the overhead speakers, announcing their impending arrival, and the flight attendants prepared for landing.

"Shall I pack this to go, Mr. Barnes?" the female attendant asked, gesturing toward the untouched breakfast.

Bucky nodded. "Has the car arrived?"

"Of course, Mr. Barnes. Also, the police commissioner is waiting for you on the tarmac, per your request."

Bucky hummed. "Good." He retrieved his wallet and handed a few hundreds to the male attendant, who was closer. "For both of your discretion," he explained, referring to his previous phone calls.

"Thank you!" The attendant quickly pocketed the money, and the area was swiftly cleaned. The table between Bucky and the girl was folded and moved out of the way.

"Mrs. Barnes?" the female attendant called. "Mrs. Barnes, please fasten your seatbelt."

Bucky watched as the girl stared blankly at the attendant. "What?"

"We are preparing to land," the attendant explained, struggling to hide her bewilderment.

After a few more uncomfortable moments, Bucky leaned forward and fastened her seatbelt himself, ensuring it was secure. She tensed under his touch, but he ignored it, both amused and annoyed by her reaction to him.

He would need to rectify that later. There was no sound reason for a woman to be so cold toward a man. But for now... They needed to discuss more pressing matters, starting with why she...

Vaguely, Bucky recalled a drunken whisper from his father regarding the Burgundys. Something he had said after one too many drinks. "Their manipulations killed your grandfather."

Bucky hadn't comprehended it at the time, but perhaps he did now. He remembered his conversation with Danial. Surely, any offspring of Danial's would be just as cunning and manipulative as him.

Bucky would uncover the truth if it was the last thing he did.

May 4th, 2018

The car ride from the airport was filled with silence. The girl had lost her appetite but was picking at her food at the behest of her husband, who was engrossed on his phone. She took small, reluctant bites of the fruit, struggling to keep it down.

Husband. The word brought a welling of tears to her eyes. She fought to hold them back as she felt his penetrating gaze upon her. Was this how prey felt just before they were pounced upon by their predators?

James was a prevalent man, it seemed, if the Romanian Chief Commissioner himself came to the runway to greet the newlywed couple on their recent nuptials. The commissioner discreetly pledged his unwavering loyalty to them, and they exchanged handshakes.

"If you need anything," James assured him, "don't hesitate to reach out. You have my number."

They were on their way to James' villa, situated on the outskirts of the city and nestled in a little strip of private land. It was a secluded house meant to provide the newlyweds with privacy during their honeymoon. James had explained this to her before diving straight into his work.

Honeymoon. The girl felt a bout of fear wash over her at the thought. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with a murderer.

Oh God! Would she have to...? Bile rose in her throat. Fleur had warned her that the first time could be painful if both partners weren't ready. She vividly remembered the almost-kiss with Nathan two weeks ago—the anticipation, the push and pull. The immense relief when their moment was interrupted.

No, she wasn't ready at all.

Horror struck her. If Nathan, the university's golden boy, could stoop so low as to drug her, what would James be capable of? James, with his imposing stature and intimidating presence, his unconventional upbringing and violent tendencies. He was involved with the mafia! And now she belonged to him, bound by the laws of God and man.

He would force himself on her and take what he wanted. After the events of the past week, She wouldn't have the strength to fight him. She would lie there, helpless, as another piece of her soul withered away. At this rate, she wasn't sure how much more she had left to lose.

Bile rose even higher, but she forced it back down. Through the tinted window of the Escalade, the Romanian landscape flashed by, though she could not find solace in its fleeting beauty. The unfinished food sat neglected as they finally arrived at their destination.

The house was beautiful. Its dark exterior was adorned with soft lights hanging from nearby trees, creating a mesmerizing canopy that resembled a starry sky. Nestled behind trees and overlooking a meticulously landscaped garden, the two-story Spanish-style building exuded charm and elegance.

It seemed like a place she could one day call home... but she hated it.

The car faltered to a stop on the smooth cobblestone driveway, and the girl was so enraptured by the view that she didn't see James at her side until he opened her door and extended his hand.

She hesitated. Of course, she hesitated. Her father had sold her to this man as part of his despicable retirement plan. A man responsible for her mother's death. Perhaps he would be the one to eventually kill her as well. She didn't want to touch the hands that would bring about her demise, nor did she wish to meet the eyes that would watch the light in her own slowly fade.

Fear took over, and she let him help her out of the car. Clutching her skirt in her free hand, she took cautious steps, mindful not to trip over the fabric that now grazed the pavement without the support of her tall heels. It was then she realized she was still barefoot.

James barely acknowledged her, offering only a quick nod. His grip on her wrist remained firm and unyielding as he guided her pliant form around. They passed stone figurines portraying scantily clad fairies, a white deer with golden antlers, and fire-breathing dragons. They crossed over a small bridge above a flowing stream, with a seating area to their right and a vibrant array of flowers that tied the scene together.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over her as they reached the threshold. Like countless other girls, she had dreamed of her perfect wedding. She envisioned her lover cradling her in his arms, gazing at her adoringly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he carried her into their new home. Never did she imagine being dragged by her arm, trailing behind a husband she did not love, and into a house she never wanted to call home.

James released his grip on her wrist as they entered the foyer, and the girl exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. And if his touch provided even an inkling of comfort in this strange and unfamiliar place? Well, it was promptly ignored.

A few servants had gathered at the entrance to welcome the young couple. A frail older woman dressed in splashes of red and white stepped forward. "Ai venit devreme," she grumbled, her shoulders stiff and an ugly frown etched on her face.

"Scuze," James replied.

"Cum a fost zborul?"

"Lung."

"Trebuie să fii obosit."

"Nu prea."

The woman's eyes flicked toward the girl. "Ea trebuie să fie obosită."

James and the woman studied the girl until she warmed with shame, realizing they were talking about her.

"Poate," James grumbled, and they looked away.

The older woman suddenly embraced James, running her arms down his back. "Bine ați venit acasă, domnule Barnes!"

The girl was surprised to see a smile on James' face. The sight made her pause, and she tilted her head in contemplation. In her dreams, the monsters that appeared as smokeless fire, mocking her pain and suffering, never smiled. Yet here was one of those monsters standing before her in the form of a husband, smiling, laughing, displaying emotions she did not believe him capable of.

"Bunică!" James kissed the older woman's hand before gently touching it to his forehead as a sign of respect. Ah! So she was his grandmother. The girl understood that much Romanian. "Mi-a fost dor de tine!"

Their attention was solely on each other, and as if compelled, the girl found herself stumbling backward, one step at a time. It was an instinctive reaction to the turmoil festering in her gut, threatening to drown and suffocate her.

"She's not wearing shoes," a voice with a thick accent remarked.

The girl froze in place. James' grandmother looked at her pointedly, with a kind of resentment the girl couldn't comprehend.

James gestured toward the girl's stiff figure. "Bunică, this is—"

"I know who she is," Bunică snapped. "I can smell a Burgundy from a kilometre away."

"Bunică," James warned in a low tone.

"I want to know why she isn't wearing shoes."

The girl consciously flexed her toes, trying to hide them beneath her dress. Her feet were dirty and sore from walking across the tarmac and then from the car.

Bunică circled the girl, closely scrutinizing her. "Well? Can you speak, girl? Or are you going to stare at me dumbly all day?" For a slighter woman, she was very assertive.

"Bunică," James warned once again.

"I just want to know if Danial gave you a mute bride. I wouldn't put it past him."

"She can speak," James snapped. "Say something."

The girl raised one arm in an awkward wave. "Salut." Shame filled her immediately after having obeyed him.

Bunică narrowed her eyes. "You speak the language?"

The girl vigorously shook her head.

Bunică turned to James for confirmation. "She doesn't," James replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Nu mă face cu ochii aia mari! How can I know if she isn't just as manipulative as her grandma—?"

"Bunică," James interrupted. "Why don't we talk in the study?"

The girl trembled from the number of accusations and verbal abuse hurled at her. She didn't know what she had done to deserve such treatment, but it obviously had something to do with her father.

Bunică gave the girl one last piercing look before abruptly walking away. Her eyes stung at the harsh treatment she was receiving from this stranger. If the grandmother was like that, how unpleasant would James be? She didn't want to find out.

James strode toward her, firmly gripping her arms. "Yelena will show you to my room. Get comfortable and wait for me there." He paused as if considering his words carefully. "Don't leave."

From one prison to another. Perhaps it wasn't such a drastic change from New York. He shoved her into someone else's arms without waiting for a response and hurriedly strode away to catch up to his Bunică.

Yelena was a sturdy young woman with broad shoulders and a slender waist. A dirty blonde braid rested atop her heart-shaped face, with round eyes and pink lips adding to her appealing features. "This way," she said in a thick, palatal Russian accent.

The girl followed Yelena further into the house and up the stairs. The Spanish-style villa boasted ample natural light with contrasting dark accents. Climbing the stairs, they reached a small hallway that led to a pair of doors.

"The master suite," Yelena announced, pushing open the double doors with a flourish and guiding the girl inside. Coming to a stop in the middle of the spacious room, the girl took in the striking contrast of grays, blacks, and earth tones that adorned the bedroom. Floor-length mirrors adorned one wall parallel to the bed, and a set of French doors leading to a small balcony graced the far side of the room. Cool air swept in from the open door, causing the girl to shiver as her heated skin lowered in temperature.

"Your luggage has already been brought up, and a warm bath has been drawn," Yelena informed her, closing the balcony doors when a strong gust of wind carried in some leaves.

The girl nodded but gave no reply, locking herself in the bathroom. It was spacious, surpassing the size of her room back in Vancouver. It exuded luxury, resembling something out of Architectural. Marble floors, wooden accents, twin vanities facing each other, a rain shower at one end, and a window overlooking the black sea at the other. And in the middle of it all, made prominent by the red rose petals scattered around, was an oval bathtub brimming with steaming water.

The girl approached the tub, hoping to relax her weary muscles and wash away the stress of the past few weeks, when something caught her eye. Folded neatly on a stool next to the tub were two engraved robes, a flash of gold against matte black. One bore the inscription "Mr. Barnes." She held her breath. While the other said, "Mrs. Barnes." She felt a sudden confusion, momentarily forgetting how to breathe—was it inhale, exhale, inhale, or the other way around?

She gave a frustrated cry and began tugging at her dress, the only barrier preventing her from resurfacing. From breaking through the layers of hurt and deceit, to feeling the fresh air on her skin, in her lungs. She kicked harder—clawed savagely, but her legs felt lifeless—her fingers weak, and try as she might, she couldn't swim to the surface—couldn't breathe.

The dress clung to her like a second skin, too tight in some places and loose in others. She reached for the zipper at the back but couldn't find it—couldn't break free of her cage. Another cry of frustration escaped her as she dropped to her knees in defeat.

And most curious, her hand snagged on something as she ran it through her hair. She painfully untangled her fingers, revealing the culprit—a ring, forcibly placed upon her by him. It was heavy, and big, and so beautiful ugly. She tugged at it, desperate to remove it from her body and cast it far away. That is what kept her here, anchoring her feet, clipping her wings, depriving her of oxygen.

This—his—ring.

Dipping her fingers into the soapy water, she watched as the diamond disappeared behind a floating petal. Yet, the ring remained stubborn, as if sewn onto her skin, fused with her very being.

Her right hand slipped, causing pain to bloom across her palm. The stupid ring had cut her! She huffed indignantly. How dare—how—why? Her lips curled, quivered, and a whimper escaped her. Then another, and another.

Pain seemed to follow the girl, clinging to her every step. Now, she finally let it wash over her. Pietro's duplicity paled in comparison to the betrayal of her best friend. Her friend who spoke too much and too fast, who pretended to care about her. Her sheepish smile at the ceremony was seared onto the girl's mind. And to think she had been involved in the entire scheme, conspiring with Pietro and her own father.

Was nothing real?

Pain! The girl recalled the last conversation she had with her mother. They talked about school and her mother's garden. Her mother had soothed her after another nightmare, as only mothers knew how. It had been nice. She had been happy.

Until she wasn't, and it wasn't. Now her mother was dead; her father had lied about it. And the girl found herself married to her mother's murderer.

Blood spread through the soapy water, turning it pink. And she finally allowed herself to cry, releasing the pent-up emotions that had thus far consumed her.

He didn't expect the first sob, nor the second or third. When Bucky heard the fourth sob echo through the room, he reached two conclusions. Firstly, he realized he needed to soundproof the bathroom and possibly the bedroom as well. He could hear every hitch in the girl's breath, every pained cry, and every sob she attempted to suppress.

Secondly, Bucky concluded that he must have overlooked a crucial detail in his extensive research regarding the girl, and something was clearly amiss. A lingering suspicion had plagued him since the morning of the wedding. Everything felt off.

Bucky recalled his conversation with Danial after the disastrous ceremony. When his father-in-law threw papers at Bucky's face and made him sign on the dotted line. Bastard.

Another sob caused Bucky to flinch, and he sank onto his bed, loosening his bow tie. Perhaps little Burgundy was unaware of her father's deceitfulness.

He remembered what his bunică had said. "How can I know if she isn't just as manipulative as her grandma?"

Or perhaps the girl was as cunning as described. Bucky knew his family had a history with the Burgundys, but he was unsure to what extent. He was gaining a lot from the marriage—power, money, land—what was she getting, apart from his last name? One thing was certain: the girl was keeping secrets from him. She had refused to see him before their wedding, and now she refused to say more than two words.

An evocative wail drew Bucky's attention back to the present. His feet carried him toward the bathroom, but he hesitated to knock. Bucky doubted the girl wanted his comfort, not that he knew how to provide any if she did.

Bucky Barnes knew women like the back of his hand—their bodies, that is; understanding the female brain was a whole different matter. Bucky knew the basics. He knew that "I'm fine" meant "I'm not fine." And "I don't mind" meant they definitely minded.

There wasn't much else Bucky felt confident about when it came to understanding female behaviour unless it concerned sex. Sex, he knew. It was easy and instinctual.

Boy meets girl. Attraction. Mind-blowing orgasm. Boom, it was as simple as that.

He had heard that honeymoons were filled with sex, sex, and even more sex. Where one's carnal desires came to life. It was supposed to be romantic, sensual, and sexy.

Bucky had spent the past month or so fantasizing about all the sexy things he would do to his wife. Nothing about her crying in the bathroom was sexy.

"Fuck." Bucky quickly changed out of his uncomfortable clothes and into a loose pair of black sweats. He neatly folded his wedding attire and placed it in the dresser, intending to have it dry-cleaned later.

Bucky plopped down on his bed. "Motherfucker," he whispered in disdain. He was not supposed to lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to block out the girl's cries. He was supposed to be fucking her hard and fast, using her to release the stress of the past few weeks out of his system. Her tears were supposed to be tears of pleasure, not pain. His groans were supposed to be of satisfaction, not annoyance.

God, he was exhausted. Now that his body knew he wouldn't be getting lucky tonight, the weight of the entire week's stress settled heavily on his shoulders, making him feel foggy and worn out.

Bucky must have dozed off because the house was eerily quiet when he opened his eyes, and almost an hour had passed.

He stretched his lithe body with a yawn and forced himself up. He wouldn't let the girl rot away in the bathroom all day. They needed to talk, she needed to eat, and then Bucky planned to take her sightseeing in the city.

The bathroom was locked as he went to open it, and there was silence on the other end. Bucky called out his wife's name and knocked on the dark wood. "I know you're in there," he said, exasperation creeping into his voice. When he received no answer, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Come out, I need to talk to you."

There was some rustling on the other side, yet the door remained closed. "If you don't open this door in the next five seconds, I'm breaking it!" Bucky warned. He was not against property damage if it meant she would come out.

It took longer than five seconds, but the door eventually opened, revealing the girl in her wedding dress, still as beautiful as the night before.

Bucky cursed under his breath, momentarily distracted by her appearance. His mind worked a lot slower when she was wearing white. He let his gaze roam over her body. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, with pins sticking out every which way, and mascara streaked in lines down her face. It was unmistakable that she had been crying.

"What's wrong?" he found himself asking, concern evident in his voice.

The girl shook her head dismissively, avoiding eye contact.

"I could hear you," Bucky pointed out. He couldn't have ignored her cries if he tried. She was that loud. Her head bowed lower in what he suspected was shame. "Is it your father?" Bucky ventured. "Do you miss him?"

She remained quiet for a while, frustrating him further. Eventually, she spoke in a voice so low he wouldn't have heard it if he were not waiting for her reply. "My mother."

Of course. Bucky immediately realized his mistake. How could he have forgotten about her mother?

He apologized, "I'm sorry. Any idea who did it?"

His wife slowly lifted her head, eyes wide with alarm.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. "I heard it was an inside job. You really don't have any suspects?"

She slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered.

Bucky nodded, as if satisfied. In reality, his sharp mind was assessing her sincerity.

His attention shifted, noticing that her neckline had plunged significantly. It caused his heart rate to increase with excitement, his body coming alive from her proximity. He could see more of her skin than before, not that he minded in the slightest. God, she was sweet. Then a sudden thought struck him—she was still in her wedding dress.

"You haven't changed?" he asked in a husky voice.

Her response was hesitant and quiet. "No, I—I couldn't reach the back."

Cute. Bucky moved aside, gesturing for her to leave the bathroom, smiling when she accidentally brushed against his chest. He closed the door behind him and approached his little wife who stood near the edge of the bed with her back turned.

Slipping behind her, Bucky pressed his body flush against hers, feeling her stiffen. "Relax," he whispered, lowering his head to meet her height. He gently tucked a straight strand of hair behind her ear. "Let me help you."

She didn't object as Bucky ran his hand over the back of her bodice, searching for a zipper or clasp to aid in removing her dress. Instead, he discovered an intricately woven corset, revealing glimpses of smooth skin from between the silk ribbons.

After a few attempts, Bucky managed to undo the bow at the small of her back, and the dress unravelled before his eyes. His wife inhaled in surprise, using her hands to cover the rest of her modesty.

Bucky removed the remaining lace, discarding it somewhere behind him. He noticed red marks on her skin where the corset had been digging in, and he couldn't resist running his fingers over the slight indents. God, her skin felt burning hot against his. It made his heart beat in his ears—made sweat line his neck.

Reaching around, Bucky grasped his wife's chin, tilting it toward him. The sight made him lick his lips in anticipation. Her eyes were darkened with lust, her mouth slightly parted, and her chest rose and fell with each breath.

Sweet, so sweet. And so close he could just reach over and claim her mouth for his own. They were so close he could almost taste the dried tears on her face. Bucky felt an overwhelming desire to touch her, to feel if she were as soft and sweet all over.

His hand tightened on her chin while his other arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer until their noses touched. He was ready to lose himself in her scent, but just like earlier at the wedding, his wife's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed against him.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered, holding his half-conscious wife in his arms. She was not fully unconscious and was mumbling incoherently, blinking her eyes, trying to regain control of her body. "What the fuck?"

Was this a regular occurrence? Bucky hoped not. His line of work was not for the faint-hearted. Hell, she was a Burgundy! Her father, Danial, was ruthless and unapologetic when it came to his empire, so it made no sense for his daughter to be so fragile under minor stress.

Unless she's faking it.

But the longer Bucky stood there, cradling his wife, the more absurd the thought seemed. She looked too sweet and innocent to be as cunning and deceitful as her father.

"God damn it!" Bucky carried her to the bed and laid her down on the sheets. Her eyes were droopy, but she was fighting to stay awake. "Hey," Bucky lightly smacked her face. "You're fine. Open your eyes." She slowly regained composure, blinking and looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

"Fuck." Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. All he wanted was a conversation, a simple conversation with regular-sized sentences and no fainting spells. Was that too much to ask for? He didn't think so.

He blindly grabbed a shirt from his closet and handed it to his wife. "Put this on. We need to talk." He made sure to leave no room for argument. Leaning against the wall, Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and waited for his wife to dress.

"Well?" Bucky questioned when she looked at him blankly. "Get a move on. I don't have all day." He chuckled when the girl gasped in surprise. She could think whatever she wanted, but he wasn't going to let anything else delay their conversation. "I'm not moving until that dress is off," he warned.

She swallowed audibly before slipping her head through the neck hole and pulling the fabric over her dress. Bucky observed as she fixed the sleeves and neckline, making final adjustments and letting the dress fall to her waist. Hmm, it was a sneaky move, but Bucky decided to let it slide.

"Go on," he encouraged.

His wife remained seated on the bed, lifting her hips to remove the dress from her legs. It fell to the ground in a heap, and for a moment, Bucky was met with the sexiest thighs he had ever seen. He thought he saw a flash of white lace, but it was quickly covered. His wife pulled his red henley down, attempting to hide her skin, which made him frown.

What had Steve said about him getting some? Yeah. Right. That didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. Didn't mean he couldn't look.

Bucky hummed, breaking the silence. "You faint often?"

His wife appeared taken aback. "N-no, not really."

"Not really," Bucky echoed sarcastically. "Right, we need to talk about that. What happened yesterday?"

"I don't know," she replied, fidgeting with her thumbs, a clear sign of nervousness.

Raising a patronizing brow, Bucky remarked, "Come on, you can do better than that." The girl remained tight-lipped. "Were you drunk?"

She vehemently shook her head, denying it.

"I could smell it on your breath," he accused, recalling the moment before their failed kiss when he leaned in and caught a whiff of alcohol. There was no mistaking it.

"I had some Champagne, but I wasn't drunk," she insisted with desperation.

"Well, someone saw you finish an entire bottle," Bucky pointed out, caught between his wife's words and Dot's account. "Honestly, you don't strike me as someone who can handle her alcohol."

"It was nerves," she finally admitted, avoiding eye contact by focusing on the ground, the window, or the rings adorning his fingers.

"Nerves?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

"I got nervous because I've never done this before," she explained.

Bucky understood her perfectly well, but he couldn't resist playing with her. He faked a frown. "I'm not sure I understand."

"You know," she shrugged, silently urging him to fill in the blanks. Bucky took pleasure in making her say the words. "What newlyweds normally do after getting married."

"You mean fuck?" Bucky chuckled, enjoying her reaction. "Somehow, I doubt that."

"Doubt what?"

"Doubt you've never been screwed," his words hit the mark.

The girl's eyes snapped toward him. "I haven't."

Bucky felt a surge of excitement at her false confession. "I wouldn't lie if I were you."

"I'm not lying," she insisted.

Bucky uncrossed his arms and stood tall. "So you're telling me you've never had a boyfriend before?"

Something resembling shame flitted across her face. She hesitated to answer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes."

Bucky didn't buy it, not for a second, especially after what he discovered the day before. He swallowed his harsh words and retorted with a snide remark. "Never had a boyfriend, huh? Interesting."

"I'm still young," she argued.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her argument. "Still young, huh? Well, sweetheart, age doesn't determine romantic experiences, but hey, who am I to question your luck with Cupid?" He couldn't help but add a touch of sarcasm to his voice.

The girl's face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "It's the truth," she insisted, her voice tinged with defiance.

Bucky leaned in closer, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Sure, sure. I guess it's just a rare case of a twenty-two-year-old with zero love history. Must be some kind of record."

The girl clenched her fists, clearly affected by his remark. "It's not as uncommon as you think," she retorted.

Bucky grinned mischievously. "Oh, I'm sure it's a regular occurrence," he replied sarcastically, enjoying their banter. "Cupid must have taken an extended vacation when it came to your life."

She shot him a piercing look. "Well, maybe I've been waiting for someone worthy."

Bucky chuckled, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Someone worthy? Well, here I am, sweetheart," Bucky spread his arms in an elaborate display, "ready and willing."

With that final snide remark, Bucky settled back into his previous position, eager to see her reaction. The tension in the room lingered as they locked eyes, both unwilling to back down.

"You have some nerve," the girl huffed in irritation.

Bucky's smirk widened, thoroughly enjoying their verbal sparring. "You have no idea, sweetheart," he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "Nerve is practically a requirement in my line of work."

The girl's cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She clenched her jaw, determined not to let his taunts get the better of her. "Just don't expect me to swoon over your nerves," she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Bucky chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn't dare," he said, inching closer. Somehow she seemed even smaller when he towered over her. "But it seems like you're pretty daring for the both of us." He grabbed her chin and narrowed his eyes, dropping all pretense of humour for a moment. "Don't forget though, this marriage won't be built on swooning or romance. It's a partnership, an arrangement. And you'll find that I bring much more to the table than fucking nerves."

The girl flinched at his harsh words, pursing her lips. Angry tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "And what is that exactly?" she spat. "Because so far, you've been a beast."

For the first time that day, Bucky felt a genuine flash of rage rise within him. He stepped back and released her chin, clenching his fists at his sides and away from her. What had he done to warrant being called a beast? He was trying his best to make sure she was comfortable, but it seemed the Burgundy princess had higher standards.

He breathed through his nose, plastering a mocking smile onto his face. He could tell the second the girl realized the weight of what she said because she was suddenly back to her quiet self.

"Power, protection, and a life you couldn't even fathom," he responded with intensity. "I may not look like your typical knight in shining armour, but I can guarantee this much—no one will ever dare to mess with you as long as you're mine. You have my name now. There's nothing you could possibly want that I couldn't give you."

Bucky paused and took another step back so the girl didn't have to strain her neck as much to look at him. He wanted her full attention on him as he delivered his last blow. "What will you bring to the fucking table?"

The girl's expression softened slightly, her defiance giving way to a flicker of uncertainty. She seemed to be grappling with conflicting emotions, the weight of their unusual situation bearing down on her.

Her eyes went vacant for a moment as if she wasn't in the room anymore. "I'll give you an heir," she whispered.

"What?"

She shook her head, seemingly returning to the room. "I'll give you a son. An heir."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Well, that's a given."

He watched with mild pleasure as she deflated in front of him, defeated. Bucky turned to leave.

"I don't understand you." Her voice was the softest it had been.

"You don't know me," Bucky retorted, slowly warming up to her fluctuating tone. "And I don't know you." He glanced at his watch. "Be ready in five. I'm taking you out for lunch."

Note: Thoughts?

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜💜

@bbgem329 @broco8 @calwitch @candybabysworld @chwlogy @darlingsuna @emmabarnes @hallecarey1 @la--figue @last-sheep @littlewhiterose @lostyx @marvelatthetwilight @matchat3a @moonlightreader649 @nefri-black @ng4b20 @nothingbettertosay81 @pineprincess @prettywhenicry4 @ria132love @sebastianstansqueen @sergntbarnes @speedysimp @star017 @thegirlnextdoorssister @tinkerbelle67 @umadirectioner @valkyrie418 @vayollie @veroxbarnes @vollzeitliebe @writing-for-marvel

[choicesficwriterscreations]

March Creator of the Month: Bayleedraws-sometimesx

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!  The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here. Center photo by the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Baylee

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I think it was in 2018, and I first played Bloodbound 1. 

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

It was December 2020. I was really struggling at that point; my whole life had changed, and I still hadn't come to terms with it after a year. It was just an escape. 

How did you pick your blog name? 

It’s just my name and what I do. 

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It’s just a pfp i did over halloween. It’d me dressed like Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. 

Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I used to want to be a writer. I really love writing stories, I’ve never really written any fanfiction, but technically, I can draw and write. 

How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

It’ll be four years in December since I’ve been creating Choices-related stuff, but ever since I was a little kid, I’d get obsessed with different shows/ characters and write/ draw them. 

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favourite book is definitely Bloodbound. I love drawing BB related stuff because I have a slight obsession with Kamiliah 

Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a drawing I did for @ao719. I think I would change a lot if I were to draw it now. I don’t really like it anymore, and my style has definitely changed over the years.  I find it really embarrassing looking back at old drawings. 

What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

A BB animation (I still haven't finished), but it was really fun writing the story and designing/ drawing everything. 

Do you have a creation that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I never expected any animations to do well and was very surprised when they did. I’m really sure that I would like to get more attention. 

If you could only draw one style or type of art for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? 

I don't know. I’m moving into my own flat soon, so I’ve been drawing some scenery pieces I’m going to put up once I’m there. I find them really therapeutic to draw, so maybe that. 

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs?

Sometimes. 

What element of art do you struggle with most?

Probably finishing the pieces off. By that point I’ve stared at it for so many hours that all I can see are  the problems with it. 

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Absolutely, I’m going through a lot right now so there’s quite a lot of things that i really do want to finish but i just dont have the motivation. 

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Maybe. My big brother taught me how to draw, so occasionally, I’ll let him look at some of my drawings. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

I can’t think of anyone published that I looked up to or have really inspired my artwork. There’s definitely people that i know in my life that have. 

Which one of your creations would you like to see fiction written about? 

I have absolutely no idea lol 

Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

Yeah, I love creating new characters and really animations doing animations of my original characters.

What other hobbies do you have?

A lot of crafty things. I was taught how to sew, knit, and crochet as a kid, and those are things I still enjoy doing now. 

[chaos0pikachu]

Filmmaking? In My BL? - The Horror Influences of Dead Friend Forever

Okay off the bat I'ma say that this isn't me definitively saying these specific films or tv series are what inspired 100% DFF. I simply do not know what stuff the screenwriters were pulling from influence wise when writing the script, nor what the director was pulling from when directing the series, with 100% flawless certainty.

Rather, this is a chance to talk more about horror, from films, comics, visuals, and sub-genres and how these various mediums are what I see in the fabric of DFF's horror makeup. Also, general point, this post will be discussing minor spoilers of: Scream, DFF, and Girl from Nowhere. So like, be aware~~

This post is partially inspired by an ask from @italianpersonwithashippersheart in which the anon had mentioned Scream.

I couldn't really respond to this in detail before cause I hadn't watched the series, but I have now and I can say that the show is very thoroughly nothing at all like Scream. I'm not confident in much - other than my inability to reach the top shelf at the market - but I am confident in saying that lol

But this got me thinking, what type of horror IS DFF? I've seen a lot of folks say it's a slasher, and I both agree and disagree.

Horror as a genre is vast with sub-genres, it's probably one of the most universal and popular genres globally, and every culture has their own horror legends, cult classics, mainstays and shlock.

So that's what I'm going to talk about in this post, the slasher genre, why I don't think DFF 100% can be boxed into that sub-genre, what type of horror I think DFF is, and the influences I see in DFF's filmmaking and thematics.

So if we start anywhere, we gotta start with Scream (1996) since that's a comparison I've seen being made a lot.

The main reason I disagree in the comparisons to Scream is that Scream is considered a work of satire first and foremost. Through the power of capitalism and franchising, it's also consider a "whodunit" series.

“Scream” is the first movie of its kind to execute a satire genre within a horror movie, which is one of the most iconic and memorable elements of the film. The original movie makes many references to other well-known horror films and mocks them, while simultaneously leading the same plot points. [...] Although the following films in the “Scream” franchise do not follow as much of the same mockery of horror films, they are still considered to be satirical because of their use of mockery toward the movie franchise. “Scream 2” mocks film sequels and “Scream 3” mocks film trilogies." (source)

[sidenote one of my favorite examples of satirical meta horror is Wes Craven's New Nightmare]

DFF isn't satirizing anything in horror, it's almost entirely self-serious. Sure there's a couple of moments of hilarity - dick biting, and scooter snatchin' - but overall the show plays things pretty straight (gay sex notwithstanding). I've seen some folks claim it's subverting horror tropes, but I don't see that either (would be interested in discussing that tho cause I'm curious).

I get why people make this comparison though, Scream is a 27 yr old franchise, and probably the most relevant slasher franchise currently. The new Halloween movies were...cute but aside from the first Halloween (2018) the rest of the reboot franchise had diminishing returns; each film made less than the previous, and received lower critical scores.

However, Scream has actually grown as a franchise in the States in terms of box office draw. That said, Scream is actually not a huge earner overseas, Scream IV (2023) earned more than 60% of it's box office revenue domestically. In Thailand, according to reports, it only earned about 300,000 (compared to other international territories like Brazil where it earned around 4,600,000).

So I don't think DFF is pulling much from Scream in terms of setting, tone, or story. I do think the show most resembles Scream in directorial style, specifically in the imagery of the Killer's design and in the slow-crawl mask reveals that have happened so far.

[very obviously spoilers for all the scream films watch at your own risk etc, gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses]

So what is a slasher film or story?

"A slasher movie is a horror sub-genre that involves the murdering of a number of people by a psychopathic killer, typically via a knife or bladed tool (such as a scythe).

In general, the horror genre is known for its fear, violence and terror. It will typically feature a menacing villain, whether it be a monster or a supernatural evil spirit, for example." (source)

Other common but not inherent secondary characteristics of a slasher story will include: young adults as central characters, sex (typically as a means of punishment "sex gets you killed"), the killer is motivated by revenge, lots of gore and/or violent kills and a "final girl".

I point out common but not inherent because the main tenants of a slasher story is the overall body count, female protagonist and a mysterious (typically masked) killer.

For example, in Scream (96) Ghostface is motivated by revenge, however in Halloween (1978), Texas Chainsaw (1974), Prom Night (2008), You're Next (2011) and Wrong Turn (2003) the killers are not.

If there is a western horror franchise or film that the setting of DFF more closely aligns with, it's Friday the 13th (2009). Which was a sequel/reboot to the original Friday the 13th (1980) starring Tumblr's own Jared Padalecki as one of the leads (that was an interesting year as Jensen Ackles also starred in a remake of a classic 80s horror film My Blood Valentine).

In Friday (09) the bulk of the story takes place at a mansion styled cabin in the woods near Crystal Lake owned by one of the characters rich parents. Jason eventually hunts down each of the characters, killing them in various ways, and they even find his home with a shrine to his mother there. There's also like, a lot of sex and nudity in Friday (09) none of it fun or sexy as it's pretty, unfortunately, misogynistic.

Being in an isolated area, like the cabin in the woods in DFF and Friday (09) is also not a requirement within the slasher sub-genre.

Many slasher films, especially American classics during the genres 80s peak, actually take place more often in suburbia rather than in isolated locations like the woods. Which reflected real world anxieties from predominately white communities and a turn towards more conservative politics of that era in America.

"Those same well-kept neighborhoods and quiet backyards of my childhood were also the battlegrounds of the ’80s horror movie, a radical pivot in the genre’s history. The decade’s opening years were bracketed by the kidnappings of Etan Patz (which inspired the Missing Kids on a Milk Carton program) and Adam Walsh (which inspired his father John Walsh to later create the TV show "America’s Most Wanted"). Combined with the conservative turn in crime and punishment law brought on by the Reagan administration, horror appeared to turn from the supernatural curses of the decade before ("The Exorcist," "The Omen") to a homegrown product of our own sins. Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger are psychotic loons but also human beings who come not from afar but from down the street. The possibility that one of them could be lurking just beyond the sliding back door of a sleepover birthday seems too darkly delicious to pass up, a fictional killer standing in for a warning your parents and society gave you about “stranger danger,” real-life evil lurking in the dark." (source)

Isolated settings, while can be a setting in slashers are more often found in psychological horror films: The Strangers (2008), When A Stranger Calls (1979, 2006), Hush (2016). Also the Evil Dead (1981, 1987, 2013).

[The latter has it's own interesting history of wanting to be psychological body horror, to horror comedy cult classic, back to psychological body horror. Honestly if any franchise has influenced the "horror set in a cabin in the woods" it's Evil Dead, which is paid major homage to in Cabin in the Woods (2011).]

Sooooo is DFF a slasher?

Hm, for me, yes and no. Slashers require a high body count and pretty gory deaths. So far we've only had 3 deaths, only two of which were even committed by the killer themselves and not even by their own hand (ie directly).

For me, the slasher elements of DFF exist in the directorial styling of the film, meant invoke a classic slasher film but that's not where the true horror of the story exists.

I'm a big slasher fan, so I'm not trying to discount the sub-genre at all, lots of slasher films are good, and when done well, they're truly scary. But they also tend to be straight forward in design, the fear comes from the feature of being stalked by an unseeable and unstoppable force infiltrating what should be a safe space (your home, your school, your neighborhood, your camp grounds etc).

Which is why slasher films are also the most common horror sub-genre to be parodied (Scary Movie franchise) or made into horror comedies like Freaky (2020), The Final Girls (2015), Happy Death Day (2017), and Totally Killer (2023).

[sidenote slashers have this in common with the zombie sub-genre of horror as zombie films in America have also tended in recent years to be horror comedies or horror action like: Little Monsters (2019), Cooties (2014), Zombieland (2009), Pride Prejudice and Zombies (2016)]

I'd argue that DFF is much more in line with psychological horror than slasher horror. Because it is anything but straightforward and also has a strong emphasis on relationships and isolation as does most psychological horror.

Films like: It Comes At Night (2017), Us (2019), Perfect Blue (1997), A Tale of Two Sisters (2004), The Forgotten (2017), Dark Water (2002) all have similar elements in terms of tone as DFF.

The isolated setting, the allure of the mundane normality being a veneer for the violence lurking beneath the surface, the existence of the paranormal, the use of drugs to increase fear, the unsettling paranoia, and slow burn crawl towards all the characters being unteathered from themselves, the growing distrust between them and their loved ones, the plot twists and turns, the emphasis on human relationships and the horror that comes from those.

The backstory with Non is what pushed the show past slasher horror to psychological horror for me. Because Non's "downfall" as it were, feels more akin to the slow burn psych horror rooted in a lot of Japanese, Thai films/tv shows, and modern A24 style horror films.

The horror of Midsommar (2019) doesn't come from jump scares, or violence, but in slowly watching the protagonist grow more and more unteathered, mistreated, gaslit, more and more with each passing moment, slowly inducted into a horrific cult and being able to do nothing to stop her descent.

A big influence I saw in DFF was Girl from Nowhere (2018); the school setting, the crimes committed by a group of students against a singular student, class exploration, structural violence, the exploration of retribution are all topics explored in the first season of Girl from Nowhere.

Even the series trailer for GFN and the pre-release trailer for DFF are similar in production design and tone:

Titled "BFF" the two-part finale from season 01, is about a high school reunion, where a group of now established adults come back together for a party (their reunion) only to be confronted by their past via Nanno (the shows protagonist for lack of a better term).

Through Nanno we learn about the chars past misdeeds in high school - bullying, physical assault, stealing, the works - and their current crimes as adults. As more and more layers of the truth, lies, and betrayal are revealed, the friend group begins to crack, fracture and turn against each other, growing more and more paranoid and angry.

Nanno tells the group that they've also all been drugged with poison and there's only one vial of antidote left, the "friends" all horrifically murder each other in order to get the antidote. In the end, no one survives. EXCEPT, it was all a mass hallucinate and the group wakes up, remembering everything, and quietly leave one-by-one. No longer friends, no longer not-friends, everyone forever changed by the experience.

It's an unsettling ending that leaves things open ended. This group of friends were responsible for the bullying and death of Nanno (she's fine she's like immortal or something I'm pretty sure GFN was partially influenced by Tomie by Junji Ito) and they simply refused to acknowledge what they did to her, nor talk about her, eventually forgetting she existed until forced too through a traumatic retribution by Nanno herself.

[Nanno from Girl from Nowhere, Tomie from Junji Ito's Tomie series]

DFF has a lot in common, from my perspective, with GFN in terms of tone, themes and even parts of it's story.

Nanno isn't doling out "justice" she doles out retributions, punishments, sometimes they're outright torturous. Whether the recipients "deserve" these punishments or not, is really up to the viewer. The show does a good job of showcasing a wide variety of characters who are unrepentant, sympathetic, and somewhere in between. The fears it plays upon are more slow burn, it boils the characters rather than setting them on fire like slashers do.

DFF is similar in this aspect, it boils the characters. Watching Non's story, you already know at the start it's nothing good. We know from the first flashback something bad has happened to Non, but it's not really something, it's many things - so many things - that have led to whatever tragedy the main group must pay for.

It's these compounding factors one after another that brings Non to a boil, and the same thing happens with Tan/New. The horror of DFF is more about getting under the skin, causing the characters discomfort by forcing them to confront the sins they've committed (is there anything more horrific than being seen? Especially if you ugly?).

I mentioned Junji Ito in reference to Girl from Nowhere, to say Ito has been influential on horror feels like an understatement. His series Tomie has been adapted into 7 different Japanese films, he's won 3 Eisner awards (the highest award you can win in America for comics publishing), along with a slew of awards in Japan, his series Uzumaki has been referenced in super popular anime like Jujustu Kaisen.

A big factor of Ito's work is body horror and psychological horror. His work unsettles, and is very visceral. Since Uzumaki was referenced in DFF I think rather than being influenced by specifically Uzumaki (which DFF doesn't have much in common with in regards to general story) I'd argue the show is more influenced by Ito's desire to unsettle.

[from Uzumaki], 1998]

Also potentially to take symbols of piety, faith and protection (the temple, the cross at the chars high school) and turn them into places of horror for the characters.

Like Ito did with the spiral motifs in Uzumaki, said Ito in an interview:

"The "spiral pattern" is not normally associated with horror fiction. Usually spiral patterns mark character’s cheeks in Japanese comedy cartoons, representing an effect of warmth. However, I thought it could be used in horror if I drew it a different way." (source)

[I am also begging y'all to check out Junji Ito's book Cat Diary it's hilarious, even more so b/c his style of art is so rooted in horror]

I think DFF is actually very Thai in it's exploration of what's unsettling and horrific to youth culture in Thailand currently. The feeling of haplessness, judgement, an inability to exert control over one's circumstances, mental health, consent, bullying, these were themes and topics explored in both seasons of GFN but also some of these were explored in The Whole Truth (2021) a Thai horror/mystery film.

There's a scene in The Whole Truth in which one of the protagonists school friends secretly films their younger sister getting undressed without her knowledge, and when caught, the classmate threatens to release the clip publicly and claim the sister is "a slut". One of the protagonists is also bullied at school - including by this disgusting classmate who they still consider "a friend" - but puts up with it in order to be in a friend group at all (this bullied char also has a physical disability which contributes to their mistreatment at school).

I think DFF is exploring a lot of these same topics but most of the characters are just gay this time around.

Okay I'm losing steam here a bit, this has gotten very long, but overall I'd argue that DFF is much more psychological horror than a slasher, in terms of it's tone, and story. Whilst invoking slasher imagery in it's directorial style.

That said it's much more in line with Thai and Japanese horror than American horror in regards to it's themes. If the series was going to be boiled down just to the basics, I'd quantify it as psychological horror mystery.

And those are my thoughts on DFF and horror, I guess lol I'm not 100% satisfied with this but god damn I'm tired this took forever lmao if y'all made it this far, bless and stay safe out there cause the ship wars are wildin out in these parts.

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes? | Trends in BL (Sorta): Genre Trends

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[corruptionasart]

I followed for video game corruptions. Don't think I've seen much of those of late.

damn sorry i'll make sure you get a refund

Anyway i'm also gonna go ahead and lump this in here since it's related:

So I'll forgive people for either coming in late to the party or just not paying attention to how this blog has changed over the years but I've spoken several times in the past about how rom corruption over time has become really boring to me. That's why over the past few years I've posted less and less of it.

Back when I started doing this stuff and really committed to it back in like 2016-2018 it was great, I started this blog as an excuse to do more of it, playing retro games and breaking them was, and honestly still is a lot of fun. Unfortunately I made the mistake of running a queue which meant I needed things to fill that queue which meant I was essentially turning art into content, and over time that took its toll and I burnt out hard on it. There was a point where basically all my free time was spent on some aspect of running this blog, whether it was playing the games or going through recordings to make gifs or tagging posts etc.

Over the past couple weeks actually I've been going through all my old ShareX screenshot folders (btw i wholeheartedly endorse sharex it rules and i donate to its patreon) I've been collecting all the screenshots I've made of rom corruptions (somehow I hadn't done this before) and what I've noticed is exactly what I noticed all those years ago, it's kinda all the same.

You might disagree with that but again I've been seeing this stuff for like 8 years now and there's only so many times I feel like I could post something like that before it gets stale, the same goes with the gifs and videos. Again, I do enjoy making that stuff but I just feel like I personally feel like I need to make a change.

I'll get into the AI part of what I said this morning in a following post but I should be a bit more clear that the collage stuff I've been doing and anything else that I plan to do in the future isn't meant to be entirely about showcasing ai art or glorifying it, it's just another piece of the puzzle. I mostly made the post about ai stuff mostly because I wanted to see what the reaction would be in this community to that specifically. I wasn't expecting the "anything that isn't rom corruption is off-topic and shouldn't be posted on this blog" contingent. I may very well make another blog just about the ai stuff because I think there are things I could talk about with it with regard to pushing against the tide of garbage and making something new with it, idk yet.

THe last thing I want to say regarding rom corruptions specifically, though, is that it's interesting to me that despite the fact that I've posted the link to the corruption wiki multiple times now and people clearly do have an interest in this stuff that hardly anybody is out there posting this stuff either here or anywhere else online (at least outside of the Vinesauce community, which I feel goes for a very different vibe in what they do.)

The tools are out there, they haven't really changed all that much for years apart from being supported for more modern systems, and yet nobody's posting anything.

Maybe I should make another proper tutorial on my whole process, try to push harder to get people to make stuff.

Sorry if this response is kind of incoherent, I've been called away a lot in making this, I'll try to make the next few posts shorter

[sawturn77]

𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺 (𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

02: somebody I used to know.

MASTERLIST.

january 1st, 2018.

----

suguru saved me from the awkward silence and wiggly eyebrows from satoru. "y/n! come help me set up the table, please!" "coming!" i bolted out of there. phew, at least im free from embarrassment now. . once i got in the kitchen, yuji and nobara were arguing about who was going to eat the most food. suguru handed me the utensils that went on the table. i realized hadn't talked to him since i got home. he gently patted my head instead of ruffling my hair like satoru. "how was your visit to the ice rink?" he asked, gently smiling at me. "It was good, until i hit my head and fell on my butt." suguru chuckled at my defeated tone. i started to set the table, placing the chopsticks, spoons, etc in front of every seat. i watch as yuji and nobara approach him, talking to him comfortably. i didnt know they were friends with megumi. he seems like the closed off type, especially now.

----

soon, shoko arrives and everyone eats. i have to admit, my brother sure can cook. im starting to think hes like satoru's malewife..anyways, after everyone finished eating, we had a drawing, and whoever drew the short stick had to wash dishes while everyone else got to play uno. God was NOT favoring me today. there were two short sticks, and guess who got them! me and megumi. FREAKING MEGUMI. you know what? it cant get more awkward than this.... right?

wrong.

here, we stood right beside each other, shoulder touching shoulder, leg touching leg. i wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear. the worst part was, he wasn’t even bothered by it! he didn’t even acknowledge it! surely, if i was him, i’d at least be stealing glances! oh, well, maybe he isnt that kind of guy. he was never interested in stuff like that. the two of us stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. the entire time, i was wondering how to start a conversation and barely got anything done! megumi had done most of it. now he probably thinks im useless! he’ll never associate himself with someone so unhelpful. “so,” i started, lips trembling. he glances at me. how come his eyelashes are so long? does he use mascara? “how..how have you b-been lately?” i wanted to curse myself. who the hell stutters nowadays!? “alright. what about you?” i could feel my shoulders tensing. i had heard his voice earlier, but now, im really paying attention to it. just thinking about it makes my stomach do axles. “good, actually.” i smiled, desperate to keep myself from squealing. minutes past, he hasnt said anything after that. okay, you dont wanna talk to me, cool. fine. whatever. (squealing) part of me wanted yuji and nobara to come in and start being annoying to break the ice. hell, maybe even satoru would do. after what seemed like decades, we finally finished washing the dishes. i sighed in relief, but i couldnt have a moment of grace before my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. i felt a napkin on my cheek, wiping soap off my face. “sorry,” he muttered. kill. me. please. “you had soap on your face.” i laughed awkwardly while he just looked at me, “really? i-uhm, i didn’t know! thanks.” what the hell, y/n?? what is your problem??

yuji and nobara ran towards me and megumi, bombarding us with a fury of words i didnt understand. something along the lines of, “guess what?? i won against mr. gojo!” “no, kugisaki cheated!” “the hell? i didnt cheat! all of you just suck!” “cheater cheater, pumpkin eater!” “grow up!” megumi frowned at their antics. “idiots” he muttered.

an: hey guys sorry for the short chapter😔i kinda rushed bc i have to gts early bc i have school tmrw. but i will be posting tomorrow or the day after that! it normally takes me two days (4 hours total) to write this much anyway

TAGLIST: @fillmeup6969 @morgyyyyy @kasumitenbaz (OPEN)

[gerudospiriit]

PSA? Ish?

[So, I know this Dis.cord scam has been going around for a while, but I finally got one. I didn't click anything (or really get sent anything except the screenshot of whatever it says) but I had to share because it was too funny. Here's the scam shit they send:

As I said, I recognized the tactic. Plus, I hadn't spoken to this person since 2018, let alone played games as they seem to suggest with them or had any contact with them in any groups, on here where I think we met based on past convos, or anything. So yeah. You all know this is a scam and this is a reminder.

But it got better. I sent a response of my own while they were "typing":

I waited a few minutes to send the next one. But that reply had me ROLLING. They really tried to make it seem REAL. Then immediately blocked. Which...no skin off my nose. Like I said, I wasn't in contact with this person anymore. But yeah...if you get one of these messages from someone, just cut them off and tell them you know. And then clown on 'em if you want like I did.

EDIT: feel free to reblog to spread the word around! I don't mind.]

[ask-serendipity-sky]

I'll explain more.

You know those silly fights between couples where it's not really serious but they keep being petty or at least one of them, which i think in this case, it's jm.

So, i feel like jk is watching jm's content so that jm would see him watching his content, it's for him not for us. (and jm doesn't miss one of them).

While jm tries to ignore jk and when he chose a question about him, it was to tell on him, the answer is for jk not us, he wants jk to see this think and think about what he did (it's like that old vlive when jm told us that jk used to care for him but now he changed, he was being petty and telling on him. They have similar vibes).

Just a theory..

Hello again,

Interesting lol so it's a little back and forth petty fight for you?

Hmm I don't know. I don't see it like that at all lol

Would a petty little fighter look like this?

They both look happier. Younger even lol

I don't think I had seen Jungkook like this since...2018?

And Jimin since...2018.

Did you all notice something different from Jimin's live? .....anyone....???

He didn't need backup to not feel awkward like before:

He didn't have to fill the silence with music. He didn't make it short because he had nothing to say.

He didn't need to build Legos to feel at ease like in other lives:

He was just chatting and smiling and played along with army and put us in his pocket. He was glowing. He hadn't done stuff like this in a long time.

He wasn't even like this during his promotion lives!

And we've seen Jungkook's lives. Apart from the Jimin fests he hosts, he's happy even when going to sleep.

So I'm going to have to disagree with you on this one lol

I think they are just happy.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

[shi-daisy]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

(First of all, TUMBLR STRIKES AGAIN I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IT UNFOLLOWED YOU WHAT IS HAPPENING)

(Second of all, little side quest from me, tell me what inspired your fics, why you love them so much, how they came to be, etc etc, I wanna know ALL!!)

Absjkwk Tumblr is crazy don't worry about it this happens all the time. Okay time to gush!

I'll start with the oldest fic since I got a comment on it today and I was like 'oh right, I wrote you in 2018!'

Road to Redemption (Bleach)- This was spite concentrated basically. Bleach was my favorite anime until the abysmal final arc and the atrocious ending we got. So this was me rewriting it with every single thing I wanted and never got, getting all my pairs together and most importantly giving my favorite characters the endings I feel they deserved. It's been 8 years since the story's end and four since this fic was finished and while I still hate what went down in canon I am happy to have given my faves some peace in fanfic world. That's enough for me to take a break from this Fandom though I have two more sequels with the cast since I've loved them from 2010 onwards and that's probably gonna stick with me into old age. I just want them all to be happy.

Road to Ruin (Bleach)- Same as Road to Redemption but for the villians. Bleach has some of the best and most sympathetic villians you'll find. But the writer doesn't do much with them, so I said it f it and gave them all time to shine. You know how I love Tamlin? Well the same goes for Sosuke Aizen. That man owns my soul and if his writer won't hype him up then I shall. This is my favorite fic in terms of writing because is pure self indulgence and I adore the protagonist. I miss writing it so so much!

Five Missed Calls (Disventure Camp) - Not much to say here, it was mostly feels and headcanons that fueled this fic and for once the gods answer my prayers we might get a spinoff with the couple in question but back when I wrote it I was just angst ridden and needed some content to comfort me. Loads of people liked it tho, so I'm happy the sadness fueled headcanons were enjoyable.

A Court of Threads & Daisies (A Court of Thorns & Roses)- IF SJM WONT GIVE TAMLIN A HAPPY END ILL DO IT MYSELF ALSO FUCK YOU RHYSAND GO DIE IN A FIRE! Okay I'm calm now.

This was just meant to be fluff. It spiraled into more because this darn universe is so fun to play with and I really wanted everyone to find joy. (Not just Tamlin) So like with the Bleach fics I said 'Fuck it! Self indulgent rewrite it is!' It's been so fun to write this fic, the characters that became my favorites very quickly (Nemesis & Lazarus Ily ♥) the fluff, the headcanons, getting everyone to have their proper arcs and mostly spreading joy it's been a delight. More than the fic itself I love the people I've met and befriended because of it. As I hadn't thought of Acotar since 2017 but now it's rotting my mind again 😂 Most of all you and your support made this a delight for me to write and while I love the fic and will forever be glad I made it, what I love most about it it's that got me to meet you. Love you buddy!

A Court of Emerald & Sapphire (A Court of Thrones & Roses)- Like Road to Ruin it's a self indulgent prequel to the main fic that you can skip if you don't want the extra info but man do I love it. I'm thinking of editing and rewriting it to have more chapters because these ocs of mine have stolen my heart. They're baby and it's so much fun to plan a revolution with them against Rhysand. I wrote it as just extra info but it was a delight to make and I love my ocs so much. (Also my proud ass is thriving as the only Keir/Oc Acotar fic. That man is mine and mine alone 😈)

The Running Free (Danganronpa: Despair Time) - For as much as I love Danganronpa I don't often write for it as it's one of the rare fandoms where I don't take issue with the writing at all. This is just a one-shot with my crackship for this Fandom but it was fun to write and I love how despite it being super niche people seemed to enjoy it. Probably will be rendered null by canon if either of the characters involved is guilty when Chapter 2 concludes but hey, I have a sequel planned if that's the case 😉

A Court of Blaze & Sorrow (A Court of Thorns & Roses).- Acotad was meant to be 10 chapters of fluff and calling the IC out at the end...Why does it have two sequels?!?!? Anywho, the short story, I wanted to include Autumn in acotad but it was Tamlin's story so I gave Nesta and the Autumn Court their own fic. The long story, this fic is therpahy. Many things delved in it are there not just because I want to do the themes and characters justice but because they help me heal. Particularly addressing a though relationship with an abusive parent or a neglectful parent. In my case, mine's dead but even if it's been two years the struggles haven't fully left me and it's been therapeutic to handle that while tackling these characters who also have one parent who loves them yet (unwittingly) neglected them and one parent who limited their self expression, was physically and emotionally abusive, and in some cases even ignored the mental illnesses he himself exacerbated. It's not over yet but I feel really comforted by it and confident that I'll make everyone proud by the end.

The Jeweled Dragon (A Song of Ice & Fire)- Look you give me a rebellious princess that escapes and disowns her abusive family and becomes a badass sex worker plus she also never married had a bisexual polycule and refused the throne/ spat on the legacy of the fucker who abused her and I am yours baby! Saera Targaryen you are mother! Okay jokes aside her story fascinates me and while I love GRRM's attention to detail and meticulous planning I'm sad he didn't tell us more of what happened to her. So this is just my take on it. Also I loved some other characters here that deserved some love and more than to be a footnote in Westerosi history. They'll get their just desserts too but Saera is my star and I'm forever salty at HOTD for daring to sully her name. (Season 2 sucks and on behalf of Team Green I'm making a sequel and rescuing the babies from the TV writers!)

Heart to Heart (Disventure Camp)- It was gonna be a spite fueled one-shot. Then the season got so bad I had to rewrite (common theme here) also FUCK YOU CONNOR BLAKE, AND FUCK WHOEVER DECIDED TO BREAK UP THE BEST DUO OF THE SEASON ALEC AND RIYA ARE PEAK! End scream.

I don't wanna spoil much since you told me you want to get into this Fandom soon but I'll just say it's been such a delight to write this and to meet like minded people who wanted better for these characters and to give them better ends. (Also making my fave ship canon and running laps around the writers in the official show server has given me a fucking ego) It's so much fun to write. I love making angst romance and I am exicted to give my villianess girlie a befitting end.

Bonus:

Transformers fic (Transformers) with @maplesamurai - What's better than writing? Writing with your beloved bf!

Now this was just us being silly and coming up with goofy ocs but given the flexibility of the Transformers Fandom we chose to make our own story and it's been a blast, it's still a bunch of drafts but I am exited for it to be done and to share it with everyone because it has so much effort and love put into it that I am certain it will be beloved. Decepticon centric fic lets go we will give our badies their day in the sun! Also Maple is a freaking genius and a delight to write with, love you babe this has been so much fun!

Those are all the fics so far so I hope this has made you as giddy as me. Love ya bud!

[fentitrbl]

Tell Me You Love Me

“I don’t regret telling you how much I loved you.”

Word Count: 1,299

Chapter Five

Jasmine

July 20th, 2018

2:00pm

    After that little ordeal we had at the restaurant everything was a blur because the rest of our date was awkward. It was mainly that way because of Harry. I was starting to question a lot about what that girl had said and his reaction to it. Could he be famous? Or am I just delusional living in a fantasy world. He was also always on his phone could that mean something? Or is he just obsessed with getting on twitter lurking around. Lots of thoughts were going through my head but I know I am going to have to ask him sooner or later and today is that day.

    As we walked out of the restaurant and briskly walked down the street there was a park nearby. Harry hadn't said anything up until he found the perfect secluded spot to sit on a bench near a large tree.

I looked at him wearily, and said, "So are you going to kidnap me now or?" And for some reason that brought him out of his serious face for a second before he went back into his mood. "No I am not going to kidnap you in a public park." He laughed slightly. He then proceeded and said, "I am sorry about what just happened, and I already know you are wondering what that was about and I am willing to answer any questions you might have." 

    His attention shifted completely towards me as if there was no one else around. I didn't hesitate to start asking any questions, my mouth was moving faster then my brain was. "Did you know that girl from somewhere?" He then went and took a sigh and said, "No I didn't know her, I have actually never met her a day in my life." This left me confused because she knew his name. "Why did she know your name then?" He then said, "I make music."

I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, I was only slightly shocked just because he seemed like that type of mystery guy who either called himself an artist or actually was a legitimate artist. "Do you make SoundCloud beats or something, I want the link." I said making a joke and laughing. I was trying to lighten the mood since he was being pretty serious about the whole situation. 

    He looked at me confused, and said "SoundCloud? What's that?" I then innerly cringed because I forgot he is not familiar with the joke about guys who make music on SoundCloud. So instead I dodged the questions completely and followed up, "What kind of music do you make?" He then said, "I make something kind of like rock but I guess it could also classify as pop-rock." I actually was intrigued by this, but before I could answer, our conversation was interrupted by a dog barking nearby who was playing with its owner. He also looked up and out towards the scenery. 

For a second we both had been so immersed in the conversation that we forgot about reality. We forgot about what was really happening around us and for some reason it was relaxing. The dog then settled on it's belly admiring it's owner. "Cute pup." Harry said.

I decided to pull his attention away from what we were seeing and back to our conversation we were having. I needed to know more. "Is your music just something you make or do you have other people who help create it?" I asked softly. I noticed his body language switch from tense to relaxed, I think he might be getting comfortable enough to tell me more. "I actually write the lyrics and I have a band with some really close friends that create the music." 

    For some reason I was not expecting him to say he was in a band. "Harry that's cool!" I said with enthusiasm. I didn't want this to turn into an interrogation so I stayed quiet after expressing my interest in his band. He then looks at me and says, "I actually have a session tonight at a studio not too far away from here if you wanted to drop in and hear what we are working on." I was in complete shock, mostly because it seemed sort of soon to be doing all of this but my curiosity was peeking at this point. 

"I would love too! I am off tomorrow so that works for me." I say shyly. He then says “ If you want I can come pick you up from your place and we can go from there to the studio?" I agreed with him by simply nodding. We then sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before we both started talking at the same time.

"You go first." I said. He then laughs and says, "Ladies first always." I smiled at him and said, "I just want you to know even if you are some popular A-list celebrity, I will still see you as Harry the drunk patient that jumped out the window and sprained his ankle." He let out a heaping laugh that took me by surprise. He then settled down and spoke softly, "I'll pick you up at 5." He said, standing up from the bench. I stood up along with him and we walked together towards the restaurant again. 

    The walk was not too far from the restaurant, it was actually very close. He walked me to my car and said, "Text me when you get home." He then closed the door for me and got into his car which was parked close to mine.

  I noticed Harry was one of those people that were pretty vague in their words but I think that's what made him stand out to me. I think he might've only been vague because we were out in public but I was excited regardless for what was to come tonight at the studio. I drove back to my place in a better mood then I had left it in. Once I got there I headed upstairs and got comfortable. I texted Harry and told him that I made it home and then got onto my couch for a quick cat nap. 

An Hour and a Half Later 

I woke up from my nap, with the biggest stretch I could possibly do while laying on the couch and my phone went off. It was about 4pm, I realized that my cat nap wasn't really a cat nap, it was more of cutting it close to 2 hour nap. I looked at my texts and Harry was one of them. 

From Harry: Would you be up to going to grab some pizza on the way to the studio? 

I quickly responded

To Harry: Yeah I actually just got up from a nap but if you want you can come early so we can head there! I am ready.

He responded back immediately almost as if he was waiting for me to respond

From Harry: Yes! I actually am out and about right now anyway, send me your address! I will be there soon.

I then sent him my address and decided to go into the bathroom to freshen up and fix my hair and makeup before putting on my coat and perfume. I would say I was eager to see this side of him but who wouldn't when a guy like him rarely comes around.  

15 minutes goes by and my phone starts ringing 

"Hey you, come outside and please bring a jacket it’s cold out.”

Reading the message my cheeks were starting to become warm. I then thought to myself, slow your roll Jaz as I headed towards my door to his car.

Harry and Jasmine sitting in a tree KISSING. I swear any time I have to write for this story it just comes way too easily for me. It’s like it’s living in my brain??? Are you guys surprised by how vague he is being with her? I’m not he is an AQUARIUS man. I am so excited to introduce the band in the next chapter and let Jasmine into his little secret world that he’s been hiding. I am more excited to jump into this Harry album 1/ fine line era. Will Harry let her all the way in or just the music part of it? I guess we will all find out togetherrrr. I love you! :)

[onboardsorasora]

@blacklaces my darling, this one and the next (that I'll write soon I promise lmao) are for you!

Part 1 | Part 8 | Part 10

Tennis AU - Part 9 (1.5k words holy hell)

Max shuffled uncomfortably on the sofa, shifting his half hard dick to rest more comfort in his sweats. 

He'd flown into Paris this morning and was waiting on Daniel to finish his media duties for the day. He was playing tomorrow in the semi finals against Novak Djokovic, someone who even Max knew about in his limited tennis knowledge. He knew Daniel was…nervous about the match up, knew that Daniel had a losing streak against the almost robotic champion. 

They had matched up a handful of times over the last few years at different majors tournaments. And Daniel had lost all but once. In 2018.

In 2016, they had played each other in Center Court in the Wimbledon Men's Finals and Daniel had lost in spectacular fashion after a tie break. It was apparent even to Max that he hadn't had the right conditioning at the time and his game had broken down. Novak had smelt blood in the water and had the match won in no time.

Max had watched the highlights in the plane, his heart ached at seeing Daniel's pissed off face while he stood there with his consolation prize, listening to Novak thank him for being a good opponent. Max knew the feeling, and knew that his lover had internalized it deeply and made himself a better player because of it.

They'd met again in 2018, an almost mirror of their circumstances two years prior. Max had put on the full match on the big screen the moment he settled into the Parisian apartment he was renting. He’d had a few hours to kill before Daniel was available and already knew that he had won it, it was the lone Wimbledon win in his stat list. Pundits and journos alike lauded it as an amazing comeback story. A redemption London.

He found himself in a daze, he wasn't sure which set they were in anymore. All he could focus on was the grunts and groans of exertion (not completely dissimilar to his moans of pleasure) and the tight clench of Daniel's ass as he ran, heaved and lunged along the grass. His little white shorts showing to all and sundry the perfect shape of it. The tattoos on his thighs– the collection not yet complete, were stark against the soft white of his shorts and the tanned olive of his skin.

The roar of the crowd broke him from his daze, and from his unconscious palming of himself. Daniel on the TV had fallen on his back in the grass, his hands cupping his face and hiding his overjoyed reaction from the camera and crowd. He eventually sat up with his legs bent, shorts riding up sinfully, looking around the packed stadium with glassy honey eyes as everyone stood to their feet cheering for him. The camera zoomed in on his wet smile and the commentators waxed poetic about how his grin was one of the brightest and most recognizable on the circuit. They spoke about how much he deserved it and how much better a player he was since 2016. 

An official motioned to his family and Daniel jumped to his feet and waved to the still cheering crowd before picking his way to the family box. He crumpled into his mother's arms, sobbing into her hair while she rubbed his back. His father and sister crowded around them, knowing it was best to go to him than wait for him to come to them. By the time he collected himself, an official was leading him back to his bench to prepare for the awards ceremony. 

Max paused the feed and grabbed his ringing phone;

"Hey Daniel."

"Hey Maxy, I'm just about done here. Are we still on for lunch?"

"Yeah, I was thinking we could order in at my apartment?"

"I thought we were going to like a beestroh." 

Max snorted at his exaggeration. "I've thought about it, and cafe bathrooms are too tiny and I want to do more than just give you a quick handjob."

"Maxy-" Daniel sounded scandalized, then he muttered; "thank God I didn't have you on speaker. I'm sure that would have been the story of the Open."

"You know better than that." Max said coolly, pressing his palm again against his now half chub. He could hear Daniel's smile and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Send me your address." 

They hung up shortly after and Max texted over the apartment's address as requested and then ordered food from a nearby café.

Daniel arrived before their lunch and Max kissed him hello at the door, pressing him into the heavy wood. Daniel moaned, fisting his hands into Max's soft cotton shirt.

There was a sudden knock and they detangled themselves bemusedly so Max could accept the food delivery. Daniel walked further into the space, blushing at the paused video still on the screen. Max joined him in the living area, wrapping his arms around Daniel's rounded shoulders. 

"Watching my greatest hits?" Daniel bit his lip.

"Do you still have those white shorts?" Max asked instead, pressing Daniel's back into his chest, hooking his head over his shoulder. Daniel barked out a shocked laugh,

"I'm not sure, probably. Liked what you saw?" He turned into the circle of Max's arms so they were face to face.

"I, of course, prefer you with nothing on. But those white shorts are a close second." Max watched as Daniel's smile widened. He leaned in for a kiss and Max met him halfway, pressing their lips together and licking into each other's mouths.

"Did Blake send any instructions?" Max pulled back as Daniel snorted. 

"I can't even be mad at you because of course he did." Daniel giggled, dropping his forehead on Max's shoulder. "Pretty much the usual, curfews at eight and 'nothing too rigorous'."

Max laughed, "we shall save the 'rigorous activities' then for when you win, of course."

"Are you trying to incentivize me to win?" Daniel’s eyes crinkled in his mirth, his body shaking Max’s with the force of his giggles. Max smiled widely.

"I was going to rim you, but that might be too rigorous so you'll have to wait until tomorrow. After you win." Max smirked as Daniel's smile fell into a slack O.

"You can't just say that! Now I'm gonna have a hard on the whole time." He whined, pressing his hips flush against Max's, their cocks meeting.

"I'll help with your pre match prep—"

"Don't you dare fucking— fuck what's the word— pavlov me. Is that the word? Don't you fuckin make it so that I think of you while I'm prepping for a match. That's the most evil thing—" Daniel accused with a laugh, he watched as Max's eyes turned into crescents while he laughed. 

"That is the meanest thing, I'm gonna fuckin make sure you get hard before every race now." Daniel continued to tease.

"I of course am ok with this, it means I get to keep you, always." Max stilled as he realized belatedly what escaped his lips in his happiness. He watched Daniel's reaction as honey eyes widened briefly then softened. Daniel opened his mouth to say something and closed it once, then twice before settling on a small, tender smile. A blush high on his cheeks.

"I'm ok with that too." Daniel whispered eventually, licking his lips nervously and looking into Max's waiting, blue eyes.

Max surged forward, contracting the small space between them and molded Daniel's kiss swollen lips with his own. Daniel moaned into his mouth, relaxing into Max's lead and eagerly massaging their tongues together.

Max eased them into the sofa, crowding on top of Daniel's pliant form. They made out languidly as if they had all the time in the world. Reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies, almost reverently now with this new turn of their relationship. 

Soon, Daniel's sweatshirt and Max's Tshirt were discarded to the floor. They groped and stroked each other, careful to not leave any marks or bruises. Contrary to what Blake, Michael and Lando thought, Max had self control around Daniel. He may not exercise it, but he at the very least was aware of its existence. 

He, as much as everyone else, wanted Daniel to win tomorrow. He wanted Daniel to be 100% ready for the battle ahead. Daniel didn't need to be worried about a bruise pulling at an inopportune moment, or a muscle cramping from being held in a position (more than likely over Max's shoulder) for too long. He could hold back. He'd show them. 

Shucking down both their sweatpants inelegantly, Max pulled back from Daniel’s sinful mouth and spat into his palm. He cradled their dicks together in his large hand and swallowed Daniel's moan as he stroked them off slowly, rocking his hips a little to help provide some friction.

Daniel panted, clenching his fingers into Max's blonde strands to almost center himself. He whispered curses and praise into Max's lips, the other man feeding off of his pleasure. He always enjoyed taking Daniel apart. 

With a shudder and a long moan, Daniel came first, shooting his hot load over Max's hand and against their bellies. Max hummed in satisfaction, using Daniel's cum to further lubricate his grip before he too came with a groan, mixing with Daniel's mess.

They breathed shakily into each other's mouths, feeling their lips brush lightly with the movements. As if their mouths couldn't help but touch.

"So are we gonna do this before every match day or…?" Daniel broke the silence, smiling at Max's snort. 

"If that is what you want."

"As long as I get you, I'm good."

"I'm glad."