#fuck you void. he does not give a single shit that the baby guy just died.

[itz-pandora]

TW Death, Blood

Polarity, Andromeda, Void, and Stellar all belong to @emthimofnight

I had an idea of "What if Stellar lost control, and seriously injured/killed Polarity?"

[mediumstrength]

SXF MANGA REREAD: CHAPTER 1

The conclusion of the second season has left me alone and bereft please join me as I fill the void.

We start with some bitchin spy action

oh shit

Truly the first few chapters are why I think you see so many people upset about the series settling into a slow burn family comedy. You start off with some juicy Hollywood movie shit here. Assassination! Straight off the bat! Cars careening off bridges! Great stuff.

Now, it’s time for a little quick exposition. We got two countries, they don’t like each other, they are using spies, blah blah.

SHODDY WORLDBUILDING:

In Japanese they are straight up written Eastern Country and Western Country (with “Ostania” and “Westalis”) in furigana. Tatsuya Endo, please.

There is one spy who’s the best tho

Here he is!! It’s our boy!!

He’s bamboozled that bad guy out of those silly pictures!! Time to also be mean to the dude’s daughter.

lol what a dick

A NOTE ON FASHION:

“Robert” is not as fashionable as “Loid,” the double breasted suit was already on the way out in the early 60s (The SXF vibe seems to be early 60s? Except when it isn’t?) being replaced by the single breasted suits we generally see him wearing. Edgar also is wearing a double breasted suit, but he doesn’t seem like the type to worry about fashion trends.

Loid however does seem to really care about looking sharp, and I’m proud of him for that. It’s basically his only non spy-related interest. Maybe someday he will have two interests!

Loid gives Karen a new complex, and then waltzes out of her life. Onto the next mission!

SHODDY WORDBUILDING:

Berlint 😂

On the train to Berlint, Loid learns that he has to become a fake dad for silly bullshit reasons that are vital to world peace. This silly bullshit is called Operation Strix, and it is so, so important. The most important mission ever.

I wonder if there’s some significance to the name Strix? It’s a mythological creature, but also a genus of owl. In Japanese it’s written 梟, which literally means owl, so maybe the mythological part is not intended?? I want to know more.

The early art is weird at times

ON THE SPELLING “LOID”:

I hate it.

The real estate guy asks him if he has a girl or a boy, and he says he doesn’t know yet. I feel like I should hate these jokes where Loid says something mind-blowingly suspicious, but I actually love it every time.

Anyhow! On to step two: secure a child.

Tatsuya Endo has a real talents for making just the most detestable jerks. I love to hate you, drunk shitty orphanage guy!

It’s her!! It’s Anya!! The early art is, again, a little weird here.

The absurdly hard crossword puzzle is such a good gag.

Daughter acquired!

ON THE TRANSLATION “PAPA”:

I love it. There’s no real equivalent to “chichi” in English, so they went with something that means dad, but is also a little weird and a little baby talk-y. Perfect. I watched a couple episodes of a fan sub of the anime, and they translated it as “Daddy” which is cute but is simply not weird enough. Anya is a Weird Little Girl.

Anya immediately begins helping, by acting deeply weird and suspicious. We love it.

I love that Spy Wars is just always on somehow.

Onwards! They go out and do some shopping! Anya is a lot! Loid doesn’t understand her! He goes to his local library about it, which is kind of adorable? And gives an early glimpse into a fundamental aspect of his character. With enough information, Loid can accomplish anything. He is certain of this. He has built his whole life around this concept.

LOID HAS NEVER HAD FUN IN HIS LIFE:

You are accidentally playing hide and seek with your daughter somehow, with no idea that it is even happening. Amazing.

Anyhow he finally barricades her in the fucking house lol

It’s Franky!! I love you, Franky.

He tells Loid that his new kid legally does not exist, and has been returned to the orphanage 4 times, and Loid decides not to look further into any of that. Greatest spy in the west.

Meanwhile Anya is causing problems. I love her.

Edgar is back, which doesn’t make sense because the Edgar stuff was happening in another city, but I guess Edgar is just also in Berlint now for some reason.

We get a brief flashback to Anya’s time as an Eleven-style lab rat, which is sad. What does “studying” entail? I think we will all be sad when we find out ☹️

Loid returns and we are treated to a sick. ass. fight. Loid takes a guy out with a can of tuna. He breaks a chair over a dude’s head. I think there was some commentary from Endo (maybe in Eyes Only?) about how using improvised weapons just hits harder. We know more about cans of tuna than guns or whatever. We can imagine what taking a tuna can to the face would feel like.

What a dick.

Anyhow, Loid bamboozles the same guy with the same trick a second time, bravely rescuing Anya, and now it is time for a sad flashback

Don’t cry, little german boy.

Anyhow, the world where kids don’t cry thing should be so corny, but they really pull it off somehow.

For some reason he decides to walk back into danger and beat those guys up?

When did he have time to set these traps??

Sick

Loid kicks everyone’s asses, and then, there’s Anya waiting for him, and she wants to stay with him. This is the moment. This is the moment where he realized, subconsciously, that he loves her. Consciously is still a work in progress. But like, he already cares about her so much. It’s been been like 2 days, and he’s gone from “I hate kids” to “I can’t abandon this little girl who I callously adopted to use for my own purposes”

(…This is the plot of the Despicable Me, isn’t it?)

This little scene on the streetcar warms my heart. Papa is a cool liar.

Ok, jesus christ this chapter is long. I didn’t realize that we also have getting into Eden happening the first chapter??

Anya takes the entrance exam, her cheating plan, as usual, does not really work out, but she does her best and she passes.

Loid experiences a single moment of relief and collapses 😂 The man is so powered by sheer anxiety that his body doesn’t know how to react.

Anya gets the mail, there is a little cute cuddling, and then, the kicker! We need a mama!!

Chapter rating 4/5

A little too much stuff happens in this first chapter, on reread. The streetcar scene is such a logical ending! The Eden test, and then the subsequent complication of needing 2 parents felt tacked on, almost like that should have been padded out a little and made its own chapter, but also I am eager to get to my girl Yor so 🤷‍♀️

Looking back on some of their earlier interactions, Loid has not been thinking through Strix logically from the start. This kid has no birth certificate, and she has been repeatedly returned to the orphanage like a naughty puppy for no obvious reason. She is (allegedly) 6 and she solved a crossword where one of the words was “symplectomorphism” with no adult assistance?? There are some questions he should be asking here, but instead he’s buying her posters and snacks.

He hasn’t had anything to love in so long, you guys. He’s going to love this kid with everything he has, it’s just going to be a long, long time before he understands that it’s love.

[queer-quester]

Spoiler Warning for like almost all of the second episode of Starstruck Odyssey

OKAY SO I have no one I know who watches/cares about this and the first episode was hard enough but I've gotten to a certain point where I need to express my fucking bullshit internal monologue at all this nonsense so I'm sending it into the Tumblr void, starting with:

IS HIS REAL CHARACTER THE FUCKING PARASITE IM GONNA SCREAM

Rip anyone who was really attached to the Skipper lmao

I can't believe everyone was like wow, Zac is getting to unleash his inner cunt, just like with Lapin, he's breaking the mold from his usual character type- NO! xD we get that for one episode then back to lovely, slightly off but very amicable characters, Zac cannot play just a straight asshole for an entire campaign it's physically impossible the universe won't allow it

God they know, they KNOW the skipper has been body-jacked or some shit and they do not give a single fuck coz by god that funky lil parasite is so much nicer xD

The value of kindness my dudes lmao

"Can we have *insert ridiculous and/or dangerous thing here*?"

"OkAy" *shrugs*

"Roll an insight and deception check against yourself"

Ally: 'do a hotness roll?'

Brennan: *does a hotness roll, winces*

Brennan: 'shes stunning'

'im not gonna brush my teeth tonight just to feel something'

'i psychic dump ✨the feeling of being myself✨ onto you'

'i want to be able to want something without needing someone else to want it too and without thinking of a practical reason'

Cool welp I'm gonna go cry in a corner but everything is fine, Emily how dare you.

Take a shot everytime Brennan says 'want' if you want to die of alcohol poisoning

'gunnie doesn't really own anything because anything he owns is taken by the people he owes money to' LOU IS2G MAN

Do you think like the D20 team were seeing all that love for Skipper after the first ep and just 👀😅 because they knew the second episode was basically just gonna be 'yeah so actually he's a dick, fuck that guy'

(Like I ain't mad at it personally tbh, I think loveable assholes should be loveable in the context of the universe they preside, not just from an outside perspective and like I get it was only one episode but he wasn't seeming too loveable tbh with the way things were going)

Parasite!Skip just saying 'youre important' to Margaret?

IM SOBBING, I love him

You gotta love the like classic 'abstract alien perception' thingie Brendan and Zac have going like, "there is a build up of some internal secretion in your lower appendages" Brennan, my dude, my guy, what the FUCK does that mean xD

Brennan: "You can see your eyes are getting kinda bloodshot"

Zac: "Oh am I forgetting to blink?"

Brennan (who definitely meant he's getting tired): 👀😈 "give me a check to find out"

THE SECRETION IS LACTIC ACID IN HIS QUADS COZ THE DUMB BITCH HASNT SAT THE FUCK DOWN

I love this, truly a crew full of dumbasses and Margret who is I think getting dumber by association, yes, this is how it should be

YES SID! ENJOY YOUR EXPLOSIONS BABY I LOVE YOU!

Right on!!!

I could listen to Mr Mulligan describe fantasy planets all day man, yes please tell me more about the blood red gas giant with swirling diamond dust I'm utterly enamored with this good good visual imagery caressing my brain

(channels Zelda) YES 👏 SID 👏 FEEEEL 👏 IIIIIITTTT!!!! 👏

I would fucking die for Sundry Sidney my poor baby (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Margret's Reddit account:

One post of really important whistleblower documents totally exposing her company and calling for a revolution

Another post (only a day after the first one) that is just a neck down nude selfie

*Guy selling sandwiches asking if Riva has a mouth and a butthole*

The cast: oh no it's a sex thing!

*Guy coming to the conclusion that Riva can eat a sandwich*

The cast: oh, it's a… sandwich thing?

Someone teach Riva about lying please, the poor babey

Put your tongue AWAY sir (can't believe I was saying that to Lou and not Brennan xD)

(Not that Brennan kept his tongue in this this episode, I think I'm just desensitized at this point)

Gunnie on a high is a delight

THE 'MY FARTS SMELL AWESOME' CLIP FROM THE TRAILER WAS HIM COVERING FOR AN (EXPENSIVE) PERFUME BOMB THAT SID UNLEASHED!?

'we didn't take names coz we didn't ask them'

The commitment to them all making it so much worse. I've never seen a group of people collect so many disadvantages on their rolls by just being unapologetically ridiculous

The sudden fucking SWITCH between them all cry laughing at the table and then Brennan saying that one thing about the Barrys and Murph's face just drops, all signs of joy VANISHED

Okay I know we've never met this Princeps Zorch but I think Margret should date them

OH!? Lucienne is nearby? 👀

JUST THE THREE OF THEM CLOBBERING A GUY THAT HASNT EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO STAND UP

He managed to make one (1) dramatic threat then they all fuckin beat the shit out of him xD

Episode ends and their ship is still utterly fucked, beautiful

If I sounded insane this whole time i blaming it on the fact that the episodes released at midnight for me

[dynyamight]

star, my baby, my boo, I love you. making me choose only 2 is cruel, every single one is a goldmine. HOWEVER the ones that rly jump out at me are #5 (the jealousy trope is my jam) and 46 (idk what it means but it could be absolutely hilarious)

thanks and ily 💗

send a number & i'll write a bkdk drabble about it

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” link

46. “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

The sound of the doors clicking shut always sends Bakugou chills down his spine. Yeah, sure when he closes the door behind himself, it’s whatever.

But, when it’s him and Midoriya, alone in his dorm room, even he can feel the thrill thrum through his body. By the time Midoriya crawls onto his bed, Bakugou’s already urging himself to calm down.

Midoriya’s eyes dart across Bakugou’s face, turning to face him entirely. For a second, he hesitates to look up, but he does so with a smile, small and shy.

The pounding against Bakugou’s ribs continues to rattle inside, fueling his nerves.

Bakugou’s gaze flickers down to the movement at Midoriya’s mouth. In a quick moment, the tip of his tongue slips, licking his lips. Then, his wide, green eyes are staring right back at Bakugou, dilated.

“Anyone saw you walk in?” Bakugou asks.

Midoriya shakes his head, gaze settling now at his lips. “But, if someone did, would that bother you?”

Bakugou scoffs, inching his face closer. “Fuck no. Just don’t want to explain shit to them, s’all.”

The moment Midoriya surges forward, hands coming up to grab roughly hold of the sides of his face, Bakugou allows himself to succumb to it, completely. He can feel the calloused thumbs, digging into the hollows of his cheeks. Their lips crash, starting off with open kisses.

For someone so nervous and awkward, Bakugou loves how pliant Midoriya’s lips feel, greedily stealing his breath, without any hesitation. His eyes remain shut, as he starts to push Midoriya further back down onto the mattress. And, in their steady fall, their heads continue to tilt, moving frantically, searching for more.

Midoriya hits his head on the headboard, an obvious, terrible bang echoes through the bedroom. Bakugou lifts his head, but Midoriya reaches his arms around his neck, forcing him back down into another deep kiss.

Bakugou bets Midoriya’s dumb head still throbs achingly, but he can manage. Right now, neither refuse to break apart. Not when their lips slotted so well together.

They shift around, with sharp elbows hitting against their ribs, and the knees digging into their thighs. It’s a bit violent. But, their lips are locked, blissfully ignoring their entangled limbs. When Bakugou tries to straighten up for a moment, pushing himself up to adjust, Midoriya instinctually follows him, leaning up right after him.

He tries to capture his lips once more, but Bakugou shoves him back down onto the mattress. “F-Fuck, Deku.” He breathes out, as he sits heavy on Midoriya’s lap. “Give me a fucking sec. S’ hot.”

And, when Midoriya lays back down, this time making sure his head rests onto his pillows, he stares openly at the way Bakugou easily tugs off his shirt. His bare chest, with all his muscles, tone, and dips, was on full display, in front of Midoriya’s wandering eyes.

Bakugou soaks in the attention.

Midoriya’s hands move on its own, roaming Bakugou’s entirety. His fingertips lightly trail all over his torso, hesitant to grab onto anything.

Bakugou grabs onto Midoriya’s hands, and when Midoriya looks up, he’s met with a reddened expression. Doey, wide eyes. Pink flush.

Bakugou snorts. “Take your shirt off.” He voices. “I ain’t gonna be the only one topless.”

“Help me out of it, then.” Midoriya whispers between them.

Raising his arms over his head, Midoriya allows Bakugou to reach down the edges of his t-shirt, before pulling it up, off of Midoriya.

Bakugou brings his hands forward, resting on top of Midoriya’s chest. “Shit, you look good.” He huffs under his breath, staring at all the freckles that are sprinkled Midoriya’s entire torso. And, despite the scars that cover his arms, the rest of Midoriya is unscathed. A wonder to see, really.

Midoriya smiles. “Not as good as you, Kacchan.”

“I bet you look good with me.” Bakugou insists, the small corner of lips raises. Damn, Midoriya just knows to to stroke Bakugou’s ego, fluff it up to a new high. And, god, does it work wonders. Bakugou’s head is filled with euphoria, and he’s readying himself to kiss Midoriya all over.

Because, he bets the nerd looks good with his marks on his body.

The door to Bakugou’s room cracks open, wide. “Hey, Bakugou, have you seen the—?”

Bakugou witnesses in real time Midoriya’s eyes widen, and all the redness in his face pale, when he turns to look at who’s right there.

Though, Bakugou didn’t need to see it, to know that standing right outside his room, interrupting the middle of their make out session, was fucking Kaminari.

“Oh.” Kaminari whispers into the void, wearing the biggest dunce face Bakugou has ever seen, when he turns to look. “S-Sorry, guys. I-I’ll go ask someone else about where the study group is.” He barely stammers out, before slowly stepping away, & softly closing the door on his way out.

Once Bakugou can no longer hear Kaminari’s footsteps, he swats Midoriya upside down with his hand. “What the fuck, Deku!?” He hisses.

“I swear, I locked the door!” Midoriya whines, rubbing away the hit with his hands.

“Well, you didn’t!”

Midoriya sighs, bringing his hands over to his face. “Do you think Kaminari will keep quiet about this?” He weakly asks, muffled by his own palms.

Bakugou groans, throwing himself onto his bed in a fit. Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit. Shitty fuck.

‘But, if someone did, would that bother you?’ No. Bakugou wouldn’t be bothered if someone knew about their secret relationship.

Though, if everyone found out he has been snogging Midoriya without them realizing, Bakugou might rather die.

But, it’s Kaminari. At this point, of course everyone’s going to find out.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Do you think they would actually enjoy the modern world? Or would they want to stay in their current time period?

Hm, well, I think that may vary depending on each suitor if I’m honest! (I’ll be excluding Sebastian from this one, only because he is a modern man and I wager he would want to stay in the mansion in order to finish his thesis) 

Under a cut bc it’s a long boi:

I think for people like Arthur and Theo, for instance--who always seem to live in the fast lane--it might not really prove much of a problem. They would continue enjoying the night life and move with their busy schedules. Tl;dr: (For them? Same shit, different day)

Vincent would likely be doing just fine given how Theo often provides assistance in places where he struggles; to promote his art, to spark intrigue in the general public and benefactors. He might be a little overwhelmed by the influx of stimuli that comes with the modern era, constant noise and interaction and movement--perhaps worry that people are losing their ability to live in the moment. (Not to mention what’s being done to the environment...) There might be a learning curve/adjustment, but I think Theo would help him ease in. Plus, it would be a little easier to promote his art given the less stringent restrictions on public exhibitions. He’d still have to work for his fame, but at least the van Goghs wouldn’t have to live in constant unease in the proximity of the cutthroat academy.  Tl;dr: (Mixed feelings, but tries to stay positive about modern times)

Dazai is more familiar with this kind of life of quick turmoil and breakneck speed, if anything he falls back into his old coping mechanisms--hello writing, drinking, and smoking. An overwhelming influx of information and suffering would probably be hard for him to manage, despite how expertly he hides it. I think I would be worried he would lose himself in the dismal reality of diminished connection with other people. Yes I’m shoving him into therapy, I want him to start living for himself and taking care of himself ffs

That isn’t to say there aren’t happy possibilities for him, just that I think he really needs to heal first. I could see him very happy in a kind of writer’s circle with people he loves and trusts; less expending his energy in a desperate attempt to fill the void and please others, more cultivating his own happiness... Tl;dr: (Positive potential, but honestly part of me thinks the past quieter/simple/rural life suits him better...he still loves meme culture tho, he finds it so expansive and creative)

Isaac is in a similar boat as Dazai, I think! He has wonderful potential as a mentor and professor, and living in a world that has a little more patience and respect for genius might help encourage him to put himself out there. That being said, I think the pace of life would exhaust him though--he is very much the kind of person that prefers to keep to himself and just puzzle and tinker. Baby boy just wants to do equations, build little inventions, and read up on the recent discoveries in astrophysics (BRUH WHEN THE IMAGE OF THE BLACK HOLE CAME OUT HE FORGOT HOW TO B R E A T H E) Napoleon is the only reason he eats anything healthy or on any kind of regular schedule s m h. Tl;dr: (Not a lot changes, honestly? He was reclusive then, he still is now--he just has more toys/academic resources. If anything he might get a little too lost in his work because of it, somebody please make sure he’s eating/sleeping/socializing;;;)

Poor Jeanne is SUFFERING. Please release him from this nightmare he is begging. Jk jk, I don’t think it would be too bad for him--but I do think that he would have the aforementioned problem of too many stimuli and too much interaction. I think he would ease into it a little with Mozart’s help; he would just be awkward and wooden until he got the hang of it. Most people just find him quirky in an amusing way, and don’t think too hard about it. I’d wager he’d probably become literate at this point because of the abundance of resources and necessity to read/write (okay but imagine this baby with a little kid workbook iM GONNA CRY!!! TAKE ALL MY CRAYONS JEANNE). 

Can you imagine this mofo at a Starbucks??? Tall and stoic, dark and debonair (EVERYONE IS S W O O N I N G), and he just asks in a light tenor “can I have a mocha with eight shots of expresso” with a completely straight face. “Sir, that could kill you” “Don’t worry, I’ve been dead a long time” And he just moves to wait for his order. 11/10 cryptid I could watch an entire show just about his daily adventures

He works with Napoleon a lot given their similar skillsets. They coach kids at high schools that have fencing teams (it’s really REALLY cute bc if they’re on the younger side, Jeanne will very dramatically lose bc he wants to encourage them and the kids are delighted--but the parents are INCHES from laughing so hard they’re in tears). Otherwise, he mostly takes up gigs as a security worker/bodyguard, only really works for the money. He prefers to spend his time in ways that feel meaningful if he can, so don’t be surprised if you see him in foster homes and in social working spaces. He has an uncanny understanding about him, a kind of silence/patience that doesn’t stifle; it makes the kids/teens calm down in milliseconds. They really listen when he does talk, and he sets good and clear boundaries--he knows how to be firm when it’s required. He gives them the structure and placid grounding they’ve never had, and really pays attention to what’s important to them. Brings them little things he notices; brings flowers to the one that likes to draw, brings CDs (he is bad with technology, but they usually only have access to older/outdated stuff anyway) to the one the one that struggles to write with white noise in the house, brings little plushies to the ones that lose theirs. He’s simple but solid, and he finds a lot of meaning in helping kids overcome the similar kind of struggles he faced.  Tl;dr: (Steep learning curve, but he just sees it as all the same really--just more work to be done with the literacy requirement and adjustment to technology. Will be resistant at first, but when he gets accustomed and starts finding people who are important to him, he wouldn’t want to change anything/go back. But will admit there are some days he just wants to go to the most remote place he can access and just live there for a month with no human interaction whatsoever; people are inefficient and insufferable sometimes)

Mozart’s life honestly doesn’t change much? I feel like he would easily be able to keep composing and continue releasing his work as per usual. Given his quick capacity to schmooze and say what people want to hear when he must, he’d be more than able to network his way into success. I think the only thing he might struggle with now and again is inspiration, given the world operates on a very surface level in the modern era sometimes. Profound insight and depth are not quite as cultivated in many ways, and he can struggle to find something that just sparks motivation/novelty in his mind, makes him start composing at breakneck speed. He reads a lot and watches some TV shows/movies when he’s at really low inspiration levels, the kind of guy that sneers at Game of Thrones--but finds things like BBC’s Sherlock more passable (wants intrigue and complexity, doesn’t much enjoy the sensationalized drivel). When Arthur finds out he loves ATLA he about falls off his seat. “It’s a children’s show.” “Yes it is, with a remarkable level of depth and craftsmanship, what are you trying to say?” He begins to find a kind of rhythm in his composing, and Jeanne and Dazai often drop by with so many crazy stories he finds himself filled with music anyway LMAO Tl;dr: (Same as Isaac, really just keeps doing his thing without being impeded, and he enjoys the luxuries/conveniences of the modern era. Will be slightly resistant at first because of how alien some of the changes are, but will fall into the habits/customs slowly and surely. Fine with it, will whine a bit at the growing pains tho)

Leonardo actually canonically owns a bar, and does that really surprise anyone? He really enjoys the excitement of meeting new people and hearing about their myriad histories, the influx of cultures/languages/experiences. It’s a nice but lowkey place, people stop for a drink, listen to some good music--chat amiably and relax after a long day’s work--before heading out. There are regulars and people that just stop for that single day; tourists, vacationers, so on and so forth.

When asked, many people note a sleek black cat with sharp eyes that led them to the bar... Tl;dr: (Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Prequel, adapts well to the modern era because of centuries of experience but also...he’s so tired...somebody please hold him I can’t watch him live like this, lord jesus)

Optimally, I see Comte filling his time with myriad pursuits; ranging from philanthropy, indulging in art/music/theatre (often a benefactor as well), and keeping track of his chirren (they may exist more independently now, but he still worries about them ;-;). Otherwise nothing much changes for him, still goes to galas and fancy gatherings, still enjoys fashion and spoiling people, still seeks to occupy himself with social interaction and care-taking--if he doesn’t have a family of his own. He’s basically just that meme that’s like DON’T LET THE EXISTENTIAL DREAD SET-IN. DON’T LET IT SET-IN!!!!!!!!! Tl;dr: (Not to repeat myself but also Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Sequel, literally just desperately trying to fill the void please somebody help him he also just needs to be held fuck’s sake, I’m going to drag him kicking and screaming into happiness--but otherwise has no great trouble adjusting to the modern era. I feel like he would have a more minor form of what Dazai struggles with, maybe a lack of personable connection that he once had; fewer chances to be himself and relax. Also probably worried about the increasing unhappiness and turmoil building in the world in general...)

Napoleon is similar to Comte in that he often checks up on Isaac and Jeanne from time to time, and does the aforementioned fencing lessons with kids. He also takes a lot of basic security positions--for venues, concerts, museums--you name it. He dislikes the idea of sitting behind a desk a lot, so he prefers to do a lot of different things; he even cooks from time to time at the restaurants  that know him very well. One gig he particularly enjoys is battle choreography for movies/theatre! He tends to stay away from anything too historically close to his era of origin, but he has fun coming up with realistic (smaller scale) hand-to-hand combat scenarios and duels. Tl;dr: (This era doesn’t feel like too much of a change. It’s a little more intensive in terms of pace, but he manages to keep up pretty well, it just exhausts him from time to time--and he usually goes on trips or hikes to unwind when he needs to like Jeanne LOL they do not go to their happy place, they go to their high lonesome place).

Shakespeare also continues to do his drama thing, organizes troupes on tons of different levels--from community level to more intense, skilled groups that re-enact his own work. His life doesn’t change all that much beyond a new form of theatre logistics, and he adjusts to the technology fairly easily out of necessity. He’ll stop by Vincent’s place from time to time to show him recordings of his latest shows, but otherwise is almost always on the move. Tl;dr: (So long as he can keep following his greatest passion, he doesn’t really mind the changes in how theatre happens--he doesn’t have any sizable issues with the modern era.)

Ability with technology (phones mostly):

Arthur: more than capable, well-versed, loves to do everything on his phone no prob--maybe lives a little too much on his phone (Vine/TikTok/Youtube can kill his productivity RIP) also yes he has a fidget spinner on his desk, no I will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time

Theo: yes but with a lot of cursing at first, had to do it for work and now looks down on anyone that can’t keep up with him (except for Vincent)

Vincent: knows the basics, taking and sending pictures, writing things in notes for later, texting (tho sending emails is a little harder for him); he does his best but he can be slow. Really really enjoys the paint programs on his iPad for when he’s on public transit, but he starts setting alarms after he gets the hang of it (he’s missed his stops before because of it LMAO)

Leonardo: what kind of stupid question? Man knows how to pick them apart and put ‘em back together for crying out loud, uses it like a pro--comes to him naturally, and he’s the guy that keeps coming up with ways to jailbreak Apple products and thwart their money-grubbing tactics. Catch him playing Minish Cap on his emulator on the way to work, brah

Comte: just vibing, keeps up with the times easily since he’s been doing it for so long, much like Theo uses it to keep in touch with the people around him--he’s the “prefers to call instead of text” sorta guy though, he worries about losing emotional subtleties and he likes to hear people’s voices. Doesn’t do anything special on phones, more just a tool; will read/listen to podcasts/does have emulators (courtesy of Leo) and enjoys playing Pokemon when he’s bored

Jeanne: types one finger at a time, it will take a while--but he’ll get there (deleted all his contacts by accident once and Mozart was just. HOW.) He barely knows how to use a phone, and it’s a steep learning curve for him

Mozart: purely functional when it comes to his phone, refuses to rely on it beyond the necessities that only tech can do (for instance, sending emails or reading articles or uploading compositions) he still writes his music before making more polished digital copies. He will sometimes listen to pieces digitally, but prefers to play them in-person; he feels that a lot of the soul in a piece is lost despite the convenience

Dazai: you absolute fools. you baboons. why would you ever give him this kind of power. it is 3AM and he has been on a wikipedia trail spanning hours, started with Cleopatra being the seventh in her line with that name all the way to cotton candy being called “daddy’s beard” in French. please help him he hasn’t slept in years. Also probably binges anime and manga lbr. He’s the one making vine references every other second, always up to date on the memes^TM

Isaac: also mostly uses it as a tool for research and calculations; it’s a way to keep track of information. He also likes to play background music while he’s working, so he finds the device nice and convenient--plus less having to go around pestering people in-person. he does start to get interested in coding and tinkering with apps/programs eventually, too

Shakespeare: finds it a delightful little contraption, so useful because it lets him jot down ideas as they come to him quickly, and he can edit his texts much more easily with digital interfaces. also likes that performances can be recorded, because now he can analyze his staging more efficiently--it gives him a good sense of what needs to be adjusted, and encourages him to keep streamlining/try new concepts

Napoleon: likes it because he can keep in touch with people more easily, the kind of guy to drop a line before checking on a friend. he really likes to look up recipes and find out more about cooking techniques he’s never encountered before. Isaac starts making an Instagram account just to show Napoleon’s impeccable plating, and Napo gets quite the following without knowing for a while

[itsunclebucky]

You’re Mine

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Reader

Requested by @rebelfleur22​ -  Okay reader (me 😂 i wish) and bucky  were dating for a long time but they broke up due to the fact that they grew apart but they still love each other, so at one of Tony's parties, bucky brings his new girlfriend to finally meet the Avengers and secretly annoy & make his ex jealous 😂 unknown to bucky his new girlfriend is a huge fan of reader (which she's also an avenger with super powers) and super nervous to meet her. So the guys are convincing the reader to be nice to her which eventually agrees even though she's still loves bucky. Can i please request one more thing 🙏🏻 i want it to be angsty with some sassy reader and if you don't mind having a smutty ending?

Warnings: Lots of angst, insults, argument, sassy reader, fluff, SMUT 18+ Oral sex (female receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, language, reconciliation. 

Word Count: 4457

A/N: Thank you so much for the request my love!!! I really hope you like it. I really can’t feel my fingers but it’s so worth it!!! There are references to One Tree Hill, the dance part was inspired by a clip from the vampire diaries and the argument was heavily inspired by an episode of Friends. Hope you enjoy :)

Bucky saw you smile a lot more these days and it broke his heart because he couldn't remember the last time you smiled as brightly as you did. 

You and Bucky had been in a very serious long term relationship. A relationship that was full of love, passion, trust but in the end, distance. You grew apart and decided it was better to remain friends than in a distant relationship with each other. 

Bucky still loved you very much. He loved you with every fiber of his body. He would never tell you, but when he started sleeping alone in his bed at night, the nightmares would return more frequently. And he would never tell you how many mornings he spent crouched down on the shower floor crying until his chest was physically hurting. 

And it's been 5 months since the breakup. He needed someone else to fill the void that was in his chest. He needed someone to love him again. And he thought his new girl Sima would be perfect. 

She was perfect. With her beautiful long curly blonde hair, her natural eyelashes, her flawless figure. A girl who looked after her nails and spent hours at the hair salon bleaching her hair. 

There was just a small problem. Sima might have been a gorgeous woman, but she wasn't you. 

It hurt more because though you both agreed on staying friends, you rarely talked to each other. He also noticed you had stopped following him on Instagram and though that burnt a hole in his chest, he couldn't find it in him to bring it up simply because it seemed so petty. 

But truthfully, the only reason you did was because of his happy posts and selfies on him smiling, the smile you didn't see on his face for a long time. Seeing Bucky so happy and thriving without you, it killed you from the inside out.

Each day, you had to force a smile on your face just so the team wouldn't worry about how you were coping with the breakup. Everyone knew how close you and Bucky were, how in love you were. And if they paid close attention, they would see the dark circles under your eyes. You were not coping well at all. 

You missed him and you still loved him, so very much. Each morning you would find yourself curled up into a ball on the side he used to sleep, cradling his pillow in your arms. You refused to wash the pillowcase since you could still smell the scent of his apple shampoo on it.

But it was all in the past, and you knew if you cried a river it wasn't going to bring you and Bucky back together. 

You were sat on the bar stool with your fingers wrapped around your hot cup of freshly made coffee talking to Steve about Tony's upcoming extravagant party.

"Do you really think he will invite lots of people this time?" You asked, nervously biting your lip. 

Steve shrugged and looked over his newspaper. "It's Tony." You nodded in agreement. 

"Hey Steve." Bucky greeted as he walked in. His white shirt pulled tightly across his muscles. 

"Good morning Buck." Steve greeted back but eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 

"Oh Buck. Thank you for wishing me a good morning." You said with sarcasm laced in your voice, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. "I'm so miserable without you here it's almost as if you are here." 

"And thank fuck for that." He replied almost instantly with an eye roll. 

You scoffed, amused and sipped your coffee. 

"Hey Steve." Bucky started, getting his attention. "Have you ever looked at your ex and wondered if you were drunk the entire relationship?" Bucky smirked. 

"Ha ha. Well you know what they say. If you're happy, thank your ex. At least I don't have to put up your excessive grunting when you're on top of me." 

"Y/N!" Steve warned. 

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch." Bucky scowled, hurrying up with making his coffee so he could leave. 

"That's enough you two!" Steve intervened, sensing an argument about to break out soon. 

"She started it." Bucky accused. 

"She started it." You mocked, angering Bucky more. 

"You know what Y/N. I'm fucking glad we broke up. You talk about my grunting, but you know what I'm grateful for? Not having to taste your disgusting fucking pussy and having to stick my cock in it anymore." 

"Oh yeah." You chuckled, standing up to follow Bucky into the common room where the rest of the avengers were seated on the large couches in the room. "I'm grateful for not having to fake my orgasms anymore and not having your disgusting shit smelling breath in my face." You barked back. 

"Ohhhh oh oh." Sam cackled from the couch, and immediately dipped his head when Bucky glared at him. Daring him to continue what he was going to say. 

"That makes two of us you arrogant bitch and if my breath was bad, it's only because of where my mouth was moments before I was on top of you. Oh and hey. Forgot to tell you, saw something that reminded me of you today. But then I flushed it and left the bathroom." Bucky clicked his tongue as he took a seat next to Wanda. 

You kept your facade up. Not wanting your friends to see what his words do to you. And you realized he called you a bitch twice. 

You stomped towards the door and stopped to turn around a final time. Bucky's eyebrows raised waiting for your final blow. 

"And just so you know. It's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy and it IS A BIG DEAL!" You yelled, walking out of the common room and heading towards your room. 

In the distance, you heard Sam laugh and mock Bucky with a "I knew it old man!" 

You should have been delighted. You kicked him whilst he was down, but you didn't feel proud. The insults you threw at each other were harsh and you knew it. And you wondered if he meant everything he said. He probably did, right? If he didn't hate you before, he surely does now. 

Bucky sat on the couch bewildered. He wondered where this sudden argument came from but he knew it was your way of coping with the hurt. Because it was what you did best, to hide your true feelings, you would become this sassy little brat and he hated it, he hated your attitude. 

He was more shell shocked by the last insult you threw at him. It happened just once, he was really tired but he wanted to have sex. It didn't matter how hard you massaged his cock through his pants, he still couldn't get hard. You had told him it didn't matter, that he just needed a good night sleep and you could try the following night. 

He never once expected you to bring it up and use it against him. It was private, and he was pissed because you had said that in front of his friends and teammates. 

Bucky ignored the snickers around him. His phone buzzed in his pant pocket and he pulled it out, his face slightly lighting up when it was a text from Sima.

Sima: I'm outside. Are you ready to go shopping with me? ❤

Bucky quickly typed a reply back. 

Bucky: hi baby. Yes, give me a few minutes.

He left the heart out. He felt weird adding emojis to Sima's texts because his heart emojis were reserved for you only. 

Bucky quickly excused himself. Taking his cup to the kitchen and going to his room to throw on a jacket and give his teeth a quick brush. He then left the compound without saying goodbye to anyone.

He needed a suit for tonight's party. Tonight would also be the night he would introduce Sima to the team, to you. He was nervous and scared. He was scared about his conflicted feelings. 

You sat in your room alone, your back against the headboard staring at the wall in front of you. 

You were honestly not looking forward to the party tonight. Natasha had told you days ago she would stop by your room to give you one of her dresses and Wanda would come along to do your makeup and curl your hair. 

It was a futile attempt to try and get out of the party since Tony had made it clear you could be excused only if you died. Meaning, he was putting a lot of money into this party and it was mandatory that every single avenger in the compound had to be there, no ifs and no buts. 

Tony wasn't even a little bit sympathetic about your breakup. You recalled him saying "at least you'll find a real man now kid." 

Bucky was more than a man though. He was your light in the darkness of days. He cuddled your body close to his when you were sad for no reason. He was never cruel towards anyone. You believed he loved you as much as you loved him. But with his cruel words replaying themselves in the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about that like many other things.

You've been called a bitch many times in your life. Witch, weirdo, freak were among the list of names people had for you. 

You once had beautiful naturally brown hair. Until you absorbed a portion of Thanos's force, and over time it turned your hair completely white. The only thing stopping you from having a breakdown down was the fact Bucky really liked your beautiful hair. He said you reminded him of Khaleesi from his favorite TV show Game of Thrones. And when you styled it. Oh my God. Bucky was a goner. 

You curled up once again on the side he used to sleep. Cuddling his pillow against your chest as tear drops escaped. You sniffled once, and then the dam broke. 

You broke out into small sobs. Your eyes screwed shut tight. 

"I miss you Bucky." You cried out into your empty room. Those words repeatedly falling from your lips. You stayed like that until there was a brisk knock at the door. You peeled open your eyes opened and you were now shrouded in complete darkness. 

What time was it? The pillow was soaking wet from your tears and mucus. But you didn't care. 

The knock sounded again and you groaned.

"Come in." You yelled. The door opened and the light was turned on. You instinctively shielded your eyes from the sudden brightness. 

"Were you asleep?" Wanda's thick accent entered your ears. 

"No I was fucking skiing." You replied sarcastically, hiding your face in his pillow. 

"With Bucky's pillow?" Natasha snipped with a smirk. "Come on girl. Get up, we gotta get dressed and get down to Tony's party. So, up, up, up!" 

You groaned but pulled yourself up nonetheless. Natasha hung a dress on the hanger that was hanging from the little knobs on your closet doors. 

"Get showered." Natasha ordered and you didn't bother to fight her. You couldn't. You were just too exhausted emotionally. 

*************************************************

Bucky was standing in the corner of the party with Sima on his arm talking to Steve. The elevator doors dinged open and everyone's eyes were drawn to the three women who stepped out in linked arms. 

Natasha, Wanda and you. 

You were breathtaking in your gorgeous tight white dress. Your white hair curled to halfway down your back, and your minimal makeup really worked together. You looked exactly how he imagined you would on the day he would eventually marry you. 

"Oh my God. Is that Y/N???!" Sima asked Bucky, her eyes wide. Sima was a huge fan of yours. She saw what you could do with your powers. She was there to witness what you did to Thanos before he snapped his fingers. Sima admits you, and hoped one day you would be friends. But giving the current circumstances, she knew that was never possible. 

"Yes." Bucky sighed. Then an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. "Wanna meet her?" He winked and grabbed a hold of Sima's hand as they walked through the crowd towards you. 

Your face dropped considerably when you saw Bucky. Hand in hand with another woman. You recognized her as another avenger, on a different team. Your breath hitched when you saw how Bucky looked tonight. A tight all black suit, his hair slicked back into a tight man bun with that beautiful stubble on his face. 

"Good evening Y/L/N." Bucky greeted with no emotion on his face. "This is Sima, my girlfriend." 

The blonde girl reached her hand out for you to shake but you couldn't register anything that was going on around you. 

"Oh my gosh. It's such an honor to finally meet you." She grinned so excitedly but you just stared forward. Forcing one of your fake smiles on your face. 

"Ditto." You kept your hands by your side and Bucky was annoyed by your rudeness. Sima awkwardly retracted her hand and adjusted a bobby pin in her hair to hide her embarrassment. 

"Y/N. Sima was just-" 

"Excuse me." You cut Bucky off. Marching towards Natasha and hauling her to the nearest empty room. 

"What is going on?" Natasha asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

You scoffed and paced the room. Your heels click-clacked against the stone floors. 

"I CAN NOT believe it!" Your hands flew through your curls and tugged at the ends. 

"What? What are you talking about Y/N?" Natasha pressed. 

"That WHORE STOLE MY MAN. She's out there right now. Hanging from his arm like a fucking lazy sloth. Oh God have they fucked yet?!" 

"So? Y/N. It's been 5 months. Bucky is allowed to move on and so are you. I hate to break it to you honey but he's not your man anymore." 

"I don't want anyone else to have him and I know what you're gonna say. I know I'm being selfish but… it kills me Nat. He's killing me." 

"You still love him." Natasha stated more than asked. A nod of your head confirmed what she already knew. "Then babe if you really love him-" 

"Don't tell me to let him go because that could never happen." You deadpanned. 

"I was going to say - if you really love him. Go and get him before his relationship with what's-her-face gets too serious." 

Natasha was right. But dread filled you. After the words exchanged between you and Buck earlier, there was no way on this planet he would ever feel the same way about you again. 

Right? Wrong. When you stormed off with Natasha, Bucky had excused himself to see what was going on. He stopped outside the door and listened. He heard every word. 

He couldn't believe you still loved him. And he knew if the tables were switched and it was you here with another man, he would feel exactly the same way. 

But Sima. Oh God. What was he going to do about Sima. She seemed to already understand the war he was having in his mind. About making people happy, about doing what is right. Sima knew he loved you still, when they were together he would talk about you a lot and he wouldn't even realize. To save him the hurt, Sima walked up to him and hugged him tightly. 

"It's okay Bucky. Go get her. I just hope we can stay friends." She said in his ear and he hugged her tighter. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Hey, hey." Sima cupped his stubbed face and smiled. "You love her and you were right for each other." Bucky nodded with a small smile. They embraced for the last night and Sima decided to leave the party. 

Now all Bucky had to do was wait for you to come out from the room. And once you did, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you walked back into the party. Only to be grabbed to your wrist and your body colliding with someone. 

“Buck-let me go.” You scoffed, trying to break free. 

“Come on doll. Just one dance.” He smirked down at you. His hands holding onto your waist as you danced together. His cologne was intoxicating, but it was your favorite. “How are you?”

You scoffed once again and rolled your eyes. “Where is Sima?”

“Broke up amicably.” 

“Why?” Your brows furrowed. They seemed very happy together at the beginning of the party.

“That’s none of your business doll.” 

“Oh come on Buck. Don’t be an asshole. I’m not in the mood.”

“What are you in the mood for, pretty lady?” He flirted and you were confused. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Thor wasn’t at the party so it wasn’t the mead that was making him talk like this. 

Could be his hard dick that you found yourself brushing up against accidentally as you were dancing. 

“Hmm, let’s see. Sleeping naked on top of the covers.” You decided two could play this game. 

“That was my favorite.” He twirled you around and pulled you back against his chest and grounded his erected clothed cock into your ass. A gasp fell from your lips as you grinded slightly into him. 

“God, you’re so hard.” 

“Mmmm. And I’m bettin’ you’re soaking wet.” 

*************************************************

Your back hit the mattress with a loud grunt as Bucky hungrily crawled on top of you. Nibbling the sensitive skin on your pulse point and pulling your dress from your shoulders. 

Bucky traced his soft lips from your neck to your jawline and down your throat. Nipping and biting the skin before continuing his path down between the valley of your breasts. 

He took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the erected bud and sucking it between his lips. His touch sent electrifying bolts through your body and your arousal was pooling in your panties.

You missed his touch. His lips on yours. It’s been 5 months since you’ve felt him and though you wished you could take your time with him, you were just far too horny for the slow and sensual sex. 

“Bucky please.” You begged, pushing his head further down your body. Bucky chuckled against your skin as his fingers hooked on your dress and pulled it down as he ventured more south. 

“Please what, doll?” He teased, kissing above your navel area before sinking down on the floor and pulling your dress completely off. Leaving you in just your white laced panties. 

“Don’t be a cocky fuckin’ bastard. I haven’t had sex in months and I need you.” You huffed impatiently. He was still chuckling against your skin and you were close to telling him to forget it. 

And you would have if it wasn’t for him pulling your panties down finally and growling at the evident arousal seeping through your lips.

“Jesus Christ baby. Got my mouth waterin’ here.” His large hands opened you up before him, his thumbs opened your lips as he ran his tongue from your warm soft clit down to your seeping entrance. The beautiful feeling of his warm delicious tongue caused you to clench around nothing. And Bucky absolutely loved watching your desperate hole contract.

His lips enclosed around your clit. His tongue swirling around the bundle. Your back arched off the bed and your heels dug into his shoulder blades as he ate you out like a starving man. 

The sinful sounds of your wetness against his mouth and his groaning were pornographic and you thrived off of it. You were so horny that it didn’t take you too long to reach the peak. And when you were close, you were a squirming mess trying to writher out of his strong grip. 

“BUCK!” You screamed loudly, your hands locked in his hair as your hips went flush against his mouth. He licked your clit with the pressure you liked. Driving you absolutely insane with need. A final lick and you were gone. Your hips jerked forward when he continued to lick from the intense orgasm and he drank every single drop that oozed out from your entrance. He watched it with great interest as it ran down between your butt cheeks to your puckered hole. 

Bucky groaned in delight as he pulled away from you. Looking down through your hooded eyes, your arousal soaked his stubble and cheek. You didn’t even realize you had squirted. You were embarrassed, but Bucky seemed to love it.

“You’re too dressed Buck.” You smirked and kept your legs opened.

“That I am.”

You sat up on your forearms and watched him undress himself. Throwing his clothes in all corners of the room. He climbed up on the bed and kneeled between your opened legs. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked on his knees to the top of the bed and laid you down on the pillow you used to sleep on. 

Bucky hooked your legs with his forearms and leaned forward. He teased your waiting cunt with the tip of his cock. 

“Doll, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.” Bucky moaned as he watched his cock gather up your juices. 

“It’s been months for me Buck.” You closed your eyes and whimpered each time his tip skimmed over your tingling clit. “Please fuck me Buck.”

Something in him changed. His eyes turned from blue to a dark brown/black. His engorged tip prodded against your entrance and then he slid home. Both of you moaning at the familiarity of him filling you up. His pubic bone bumped against your clit, causing your cunt to clench around him. 

“Doll. I won’t last if you keep doin’ that.” He warned through gritted teeth. You loved how he was losing control already. And to be honest, so were you. 

Your insides were tingling as your walls hugged his hot cock tightly. It was almost like a welcome home hug, we’ve missed you. 

“Good. I don’t want you to make love to me Buck. I want you to fuck me! Hard and fast. Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy and just do it!” Your arms curled around his shoulders and he growled as he sat back and perched your legs on top of his shoulders. 

“You and your fuckin’ attitude. You want it hard and fast? You fuckin’ got it.” And with that, he snapped his hips into you with a fast and brutal pace. His balls playing ping-pong against the skin of your ass and the position you were in meant he easily grazed your fucking G-spot perfectly. So perfectly that your cunt was permanently clenched around him. Your thick white slick gathered on his pubic bone. He rocked the bed harshly, the brass headboard knocking against the wall behind you and the mattress squeaking under your weight. 

“Yes Buck! Come on baby just like that! Don’t stop.” You begged. Your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you felt the tension rising in your tummy. “Fuck yes Buck. I’m so fucking close. Please don’t stop. Harder!” 

And harder he went. The consistent rhythmic knocking of the headboard and skin on skin rang in your ears. Bucky angled his hips slightly and that was it. That was where your spot was and he hit it. Every. Single. Thrust. 

“OH MY GODDDDD!!!” You screamed so loud that your voice cracked painfully. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as your hands massaged your breasts and pinched your nipples. “I’M CUMMING!” You announced. Not that it was necessary. Bucky could feel you were close and he went faster. A few more final hard thrusts and you were coming undone all over his cock. Your juices sprayed over his tummy and he moaned so fucking loudly you could have cummed again just from the erotic sound. Bucky was right behind you, spilling his hot cum deep in your tummy. You were both spent, looking at each other with love in your eyes and no signs of regret. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled out and you winced at the loss of contact. He walked in the bathroom and you heard the water running. A few moments later, he reappeared. His half-hard cock bobbing with every move he made. 

“I’m running a bath for us.” He said sweetly, placing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and reached your hand out to stroke his cheek. 

“I’ve missed you.” You said truthfully. “I cried every night for you.”

“Oh doll. I’ve missed you too. And I’m never fuckin’ lettin’ you go again either.”

“I hope not.”

“You’re mine.” He dominantly said and you chuckled a little. “Don’t ruin the moment.” He warned and you chuckled again.

“Yes Sergeant.” You went to sit up and hiss. The ache in your groin was starting to catch up to you now. “Okay maybe you were too hard.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “I’m always hard doll.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant the sex.” 

“Well, you were yelling at me to fuck you hard and fast.” He shrugged.

“Just… take me to the bath please.” You playfully hit his shoulder. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Buck?” You mumbled into his neck as he carried you to the bathroom bridal style. Bucky hummed in response and you continued. “We’re back together, right?” 

Bucky sat you in the tub. The temperature of the water was just perfect and it immediately helped your aching muscles. Bucky climbed in behind you. His legs raised and he pulled you back in between them. Your back rested against his chest as he gathered bubbles on your tummy. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly Y/N. I said you were mine and I’m not letting you go again. So yes, we’re back together.”

Tags: @criminal-cookies​ @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​

[holylulusworld]

Still a bad girl

Summary: Still sneaking around to play the cat burglar you get caught by a certain Avenger again.

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Criminal!Reader

Warnings: language, the reader is a brat, snarky comments, smut, unprotected sex, restraints (ropes), somnophilia (oral female receiving), dirty talk

A/N: Not endgame compliant. Steve is still Nomad!Steve.

Sequel to: Bad Girl

Dividers by @writeyourmindaway​​

“There you are, sweetheart,” snickering you pick the lock of the vitrine. Engrossed in getting the job done you feel a shadow behind you. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Rogers.”

“I knew you would go after Russow to steal his wife’s diamond necklace,” Steve quips, proud on himself he was two steps ahead again. “Just give up and follow me, doll.”

“That bastard sells people, Steve! He’s involved in human trafficking, just like his prissy wife,” you narrow your eyes when Steve tries to grasp for your arm. “I have to hit him where it hurts the most. His greedy wife loves that necklace.”

“Y/N, he’s a dangerous man, doll. Let me get hold of him and take his business down. Tony and Natasha are on it,” Steve offers but you roll your eyes, cracking your neck.

“Whilst they try to reverse the snap? I highly doubt they find the time to help people who suffer meanwhile,” concentrating on picking the lock you ignore Steve is watching you. “No one gives a shit on the poor girls getting sold or anyone else.”

“I do, Y/N. Let me punish Russow and we can go home,” you scoff at the word ‘home’, glaring at Steve who still tries to talk you out of the heist you planned.

“I got no home, Captain Rogers. The first time I lost my home was after the snap. A cold-hearted bastard I paid rent to for over six years kicked me out. I never paid too late, but the snap happened and suddenly, I was a cockroach to him. Then I finally had a new home and you came along. I had to run again, thanks for that.”

“I meant my home, doll. You can home with me,” pleadingly looking at you Steve holds out his hand. “I can still just throw you over my shoulder.”

“That man, he deserves to feel the pain he causes every single day, Steve. How can you stand there and tell me to not steal his wife’s necklace to sell it?” you purse your lips jerking your head toward the large safe opposite Steve. “He makes money by abusing and selling people. I want to help the girls escaping him and the orphanage too. There is an elder lady who will end on the street if she does not pay her landlord.”

“Doll, I’ll do anything to bring him down but please come with me, now,” you can hear tumult outside of the room. “We don’t have time. The team will be here in a few moments and arrest you.”

Just now you recognize the worried look on Steve’s features so you nod, glancing at the necklace one last time. “Another time, beautiful,” you sigh, taking the hand Steve offers.

“Did you come here to save me, Captain Rogers?” giggling you sneak out of the window. Steve does not answer your question, busy to follow you out of the window without getting caught. “Steve?”

“Maybe. I had to protect my bad girl after all,” you would kiss him if not for the messed-up heist. “Now be good and come with me, darling. My bike is over there,” Steve jerks his head toward the bike, and you nod, running toward his vehicle.

“This doesn’t make up for the month without sex, Rogers,” Steve jumps onto the bike, holding out his hand again. “Always the gentleman.”

“That’s not gentlemanlike,” tugging at the ropes holding you to the headboard you curse under your breath. “Steven Grant Rogers! You can’t just undress a girl, eat her out only to restrain her to your fucking bed.”

“You look good on my bed, Y/N,” Steve purrs, running his hands down your back. You shiver at the gentle touch, knowing you are at the mercy of a super-soldier. “Love to watch you squirm for me.”

A slap to your ass later Steve has your full attention. “Maybe I need to tame my little greedy kitty-cat again? I think you need to feel justice in your bones.” You know what comes next, but nothing can ever prepare you for Steve’s cock nudging at your slick entrance.

“You’re justice in rusty armor,” you grin to yourself. You do not have to turn around to know Steve has an angry expression on his face. The way he grips your hips with one rough hand to slide into you tells you the whole story.

“You’re still a bad girl, but you are my bad girl from now on,” the dark undertone let a shiver run down your spine. There is no denying, you love his dominant side. “I’ll play with you tonight and you’ll be my good girl.”

“Good girl my,” you cry out feeling his length spread you open with one harsh stroke. You pant, struggling to keep the noises you want to make for the golden boy down your throat, “ass.”

Shame on you for mewling like a cat in heat, but who gives a fuck when Captain America uses you like a rag doll.

His hips move without giving you time to adjust, one hand forces your head into the cushions, presses hard down your neck whilst his other hand holds your hip in an iron grip. “I think you need to feel me for days.”

“I already feel you,” huffing you try to meet his thrusts, but your body is completely at his mercy. “Boy, you can make a girl feel special.”

“Special, that’s what you are,” Steve smirks hearing the needy whines leave your lips. He is slowing down now, pulling all the way out to enjoy your struggle to breathe when he pushes back in with full force.

“Look at you,” he is pulling out, “such a needy kitten,” and pushes back in, “mine,” and out, and in without breaking a sweat.

Your body slicks for him, almost begs for it to go on or to be over soon. While you moan, struggling against the ropes holding you Steve has a smug grin on his lips.

“Do you want to cum for your Captain?”

“Yes, fucking yes,” you whine, feeling the knot tightening. “Please, baby.”

“How did you call me, doll? I want to hear a proper title,” you grunt, wiggling in his grip. “It’s not that hard.”

“I…,” hating you have to give in to get your release you press your face into the soft pillow, “want to cum, Captain.”

“That’s a good girl, now cum for me,” his hand moves between your legs to rub your clit in slow circles. His touch is tender but the way his hips slam into your ass with raw force let you know he’s still pissed. “Now.”

“I hate,” brain wrecked you whimper his name, followed by insults as the high ripples through your body. Steve’s hot release fills your womb and you groan, exhausted but sated. “you.”

When you slowly wake from a deep slumber there is something wet lapping at your cunt, a low groan followed by two rough hands spreading your legs wider wake you completely as another orgasm wrecks your body.

“Steve,” you throw your head back, feeling his fingers slide into you to feel you pulse around him. “What was that?”

“Breakfast in bed,” grinning Steve looks up at you from between your legs. “I got hungry and didn’t find what I want to eat in the fridge so…I licked your sweet cunt.”

“Steve, what are we doing here?” You cover your eyes with one arm, sighing deeply. “You’re Mr. Justice and I am still a thief.”

“You stole from the rich and gave it to people needing help. The ones no one else tried to help,” Steve gives you a soft smile, placing something cool onto your belly. “I got you something.”

Slowly removing the arm from your eyes you look down your body to see the diamond necklace on your stomach. “How did you get this, Steve?”

“I sneaked out last night and asked Natasha for help,” now a blush creeps into Steve’s cheeks. “I am more the ‘I run through a wall kind of guy’,Nat can pick a lock and things.”

“You went back to get it,” you squeal, grasping the necklace before you throw yourself into Steve’s arms. “You know, this makes you my accomplice, Captain Rogers.”

“I know, doll,” husking the words Steve feels your hand creep into his sweatpants. “Y/N,” hissing your name he watches you lick your lips.

“I think, this screams for the best blowjob ever,” you drop the necklace to fist Steve’s shirt, bringing him down for a dirty kiss.”

“Erm-uh,” someone clears his throat behind Steve’s back, smirking as you do not remove your hand from your lover’s pants. “I hate to disturb you Capsicle but I think Bruce and I had a breakthrough last night. Maybe, just maybe we can undo the blip…”

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[gffa]

The Rise of Skywalker novelization | by Rae Carson I SPENT LIKE A SOLID 45 SECONDS STARING AT THE PAGE AND GOING, “I LITERALLY CANNOT IMAGINE VADER DOING ANY OF THAT.” I COULD NOT IMAGINE VADER MAKING A DEAL WITH A GIANT CREEPY SPIDER ON A GIANT BABY’S HEAD, ENTRUSTING THIS SITH HOLOCRON TO IT AND SAYING THAT ONLY THOSE WHO CAN PASS THE TEST BY DEFEATING THE PROTECTORS MAY FIND IT. ANAKIN DIDN’T GIVE A SINGLE SOLITARY SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING LIKE THAT.  HE DIDN’T CARE IF ANYONE WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO DEFEAT PROTECTORS AND THAT THAT MADE THEM WORTHY.  HE DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT LEGACY AND HE DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT SETTING UP FUTURE PLANS. BECAUSE HIS WHOLE FUCKING THING, HIS ENTIRE FUCKING MINDSET, WAS “I’M GONNA STOMP THROUGH THIS ON SHEER POWER ALONE.” EITHER IT WOULD KILL HIM (PLEASE KILL HIM HE HAS WANTED TO DIE FOR LIKE TWENTY YEARS NOW BUT NOBODY WHO IS STRONG ENOUGH WILL ACTUALLY DO IT) OR IT WON’T, BUT LIKE SETTING UP A LEGACY FOR SOMEONE TO COME AFTER HIM?  NO, VADER DIDN’T CARE. BUT THEN I THOUGHT:  YOU KNOW WHO DOES CARE ABOUT SETTING UP FUTURE PLANS?  YEAH, THE GUY WHO’S ALREADY PUTTING ALL THE CHESS PIECES INTO PLACE IN THIS VERY MOVIE.  THAT GUY ABSOLUTELY WOULD HAVE DEVISED A TEST LIKE THIS--NOT BECAUSE HE CARES ABOUT LEGACY BUT BECAUSE HE CARES ABOUT WEEDING OUT THE WEAK SO HE CAN USE THE STRONG UNDER HIS THUMB, HE CARES ABOUT KEEPING THEM BUSY CHASING MCGUFFINS RATHER THAN HIM. SO NOW THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I HAVE READ IN THE NOVELIZATION. BECAUSE I   K  N  O  W   THAT PALPATINE MADE VADER SET THIS  UP. “LORD VADER, I HAVE A TASK FOR YOU.” “YES, MY MASTER, WHO SHALL I KILL NOW TO TRY TO FILL THE EMPTY VOID WITHIN ME?” “NO, NO, NOTHING LIKE THAT.  THIS TIME I NEED YOU TO GO FIND A GIANT BABY’S HEAD WITH A SPIDER ON TOP OF IT--DON’T WORRY, THERE’S ONE ON YOUR PLANET, YOU KNOW THE ONE YOU SET UP THERE BECAUSE LIFE IS FRAGILE BUT IT DETERMINEDLY FINDS A WAY AND YOU VALUE THAT STRENGTH--” “NO, I CHOSE IT BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE SHE DIED AND HE BROKE UP WITH ME.” “YES, FINE, WHATEVER, ANYWAY, GO FIND THE SPIDER BABY--BABY SPIDER? I DON’T KNOW--AND HIDE THIS WAYFINDER--” “ISN’T THAT JUST A SITH HOLOCRON?” “SHUT UP, WAYFINDER SOUNDS COOLER.  ANYWAY, GO THERE AND SET UP A TEST FOR SOMEONE TO FIND IT ONE DAY--” “UGH.” “AND ONCE THEY EARN IT THEY WILL HAVE PROVEN THEMSELVES WORTHY AND WILL FOLLOW IN OUR LEGACY.” “DO I HAVE TO?” “YES, IT WILL BE USEFUL TO MY PLANS ONE DAY, NOW GO.” AND THEN JUST IMAGINING VADER STANDING IN FRONT OF THE EYE OF WEBBISH, DETAILING OUT THIS PLAN OF HOW, IF SOMEONE CAN DEFEAT YOUR PROTECTORS, POINT THEM TO THE STONE ALTAR THAT’S LITERALLY JUST THREE FEET TO YOUR LEFT. AND HATING EVERY SINGLE FUCKING SECOND OF THIS ABSOLUTE UTTER NONSENSE THAT SIDIOUS IS MAKING HIM DO WHEN HE COULD BE OUT THERE TRYING TO MURDER ANOTHER ENTIRE PLANET OR SOMETHING JUST TO FEEL ANYTHING. I AM CONVINCED THAT THIS IS THE ONLY WAY IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED AND IT’S HILARIOUS.

[letsperaltiago]

ok time to break my silence caused by the fact that i spent all day making this lol too many feels 

so.. palm springs thoughts !! and there are manyyyy so buckle up and feeel free to hit me up with either matching or contradicting thoughts or whateveer!! i would LOVE to nerd out about this movie with someone:’)

here comes thoughts and pictures!! 

we basically start off with a mr. samberg sex-scene okAYYYYY the mood is set. we love the view

nyles aka. mr. samberg is the most gorgeous man alive and it was a true pleasure to admire him for 90 minutes straight 

CURLS!!????! THEY ARE UNREAL. i shall dedicate an entire post to them

Cristin Milioti is perfect for her role. her acting? *chef’s kiss* I love that she’s not the stereotypical female rom-com lead.

Her chemistry with Andy? Gosh.. Can’t believe Nyles x Sarah is my new main movie-ship!! They play off of each other SO. WELL. Their characters are equally stone cold and bitter, but then again not really, and they both portray it so well!!

“You don’t ned a leg up.” *moans* “Hold my leg up!” i SCREAMED

“Don’t you kiss me.” “Don’t you tell me what to do.” hoW DARE THEY!

Ok ur basically on love already stop it

The fact that they were just gonna fuck on a blanket on top OF ROCKS?!

but then again in this movie’s already insane universe it’s prob pretty normal:)

The overall dark, existential humor?? This is what I live and breathe for on a daily basis. Basiaclly both main characters are a BIG MOOD

Nyles not giving a shit vs. Sarah severely freaking out in the beginning is an iconic dynamic

“I am the antichrist” and then the rock falling? For a hot sec I literally thought the movie was gonna take a turn with Nyles being some magical/scientific creature that’d created the timeloop or something idkkk ahhha

Nyles in the suit... ridiculous(ly hot)

The torture methods Roy uses on Nyles and the fact that he’s not mentally scarred?? How?? 

On that note I love that Nyles and Sarah keep their memories even if the day starts over. Would’ve been a completely different concept if they had to “meet each other for the first time” every day and it wouldn’t’ve allowed their relationship arc to evolve as it did 

Darla is the fucking shit 

Nyles in the baseball cap, amirite?

THE BARTENDER TALKING ABOUT HITTING A GUY WITH THE CAR SHE’S CURRENTLY GIVING NYLES A HANDJOB IN IS COMEDIC GOLD 

“You fucked Jerry Schlieffen?” “Well he fucked me.” Yes SIR. Andy Samberg’s characters are all bottoms and we’re here for it

Sarah’s tongue click and “nice try” when Nyles asks her about her sex life?? 

IDK WHY BUT SO GOD

Randy is hella annoying. That’s it. That’s the tweet.

THIS ENTIRE SCENE:

the fact that they both start waking up smiling because now at least they have each other 🥺😭🤯

uhm i love a good ship that’s like... best friends to lovers and the montage of them basically becoming besties killed me 

this outfit Y E S: 

sarah falling off the car and nyles laughing it off is relationship goals

the crashing plane I LOL’ED

okay so... big moment... the DANCING AND MATCHING OUTFITS? THEY ARE MY DREAM TEAM. Also how excited they are running away from the bar 🥺

IM POSITIVE THIS IS THE MOMENT NYLES KNOWS! LIKE HE DOESN’T ADMIT IT TO HIMSELF COMPLETELY BUT HE KNOWS 

the bomb in the cake and french pirate-skit? so fucking random but i lovee it because it’s so them

*DRUM ROLL* PERHAPS MY FAVORITE MOMENT IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE: 

STORYLINE WISE AND VISUALLY A++++

the deep talks by the fire were SO well written. they were actually deep and genuine, allowing the characters to grow and opening up to us as viewers but also remained fun and witty

sarah trying to get nyles to admit he cares for her and him joking it off??? the flirtinggg

really wish we’d gotten to know more about what nyles meant with “it drifts away: just like they all do.” because it really seemed to trigger something within him. Like WHO “They”???

the dinosaurs lmao no comment but at least they got a cute cuddly moment

from the very first millisecond inside the tent you can CLEARLY tell Sarah is just dying to do something about them!!!

 the disbelief on nyles’ face when sarah says “lets just get it over with” because she’d clearly stated he didn’t want to and even though he obviously did he’s respected it and not done anything further about it oh babey

we love some good making out:’))) 

NYLES HALTING TO TAKE IN THE MOMENT EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM INTO THE VOID 

i will die for a post-sexy timez cuddle and how sarah is trying to staying awake to be besides him is just *explosion* 

this has to be *the moment* she realises 

and they’re both sooooo fucking happy when they wake up after damn love me like that pls

THE GROOM BOOO FUCK OFF CAN’T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO REMEMBER HIS NAME CHEATING SCUM 

THIS FACE:

Baby is trying so hard and is so cute and nervous about it. SARAH LISTEN TO HIM HE LOVES YOU.

HE FELT GOOD WAKING UP BECAUSE OF YOUUUU, GIRL. DO NOT CALL IT “FUN”, SARAH 

“Going to bed maybe just got a little better” 😭😭😭😭

The entire cop scene is just pure insanity, very Lonely Island and I’m here for it even though I just want Sarah to rEALLY LISTEN TO WHAT NYLES IS TRYING TO SAY 

“Pain is real” oh babey that means SO MANY THINGS 🥺💔

“I followed you into that cave because I liked you!” like jake would say: don’t love how we got here but we’re going where i want

“pretentious sad boy” me

not shocked that they’ve hooked up before because c h e m i s t r y but don’t like how it got out :)))

why is nyles’ one sleeve shirt rolled up? im triggered

drinking pure vodka? oh babey its gonna be okay 

WE LOVE A SMART BOI WHO RECOGNIZES HIS GIRL’S PERFUME 

Sarah’s parents singing:)) i would cry too, nyles

"I love her.” “I see... That’s interesting” lmao savage

I actually really love Roy’s character. It turns out to be very humble actually and he has some insightful and lowkey poetic that lines i love. Besides that he’s hilarious. 

SO the whole time i was wondering how they’d get out of the whole “same day forever”-thing, if they were to. and I LOVE LOVE LOVE that they had such a logical way out of it: science. Not anything cheesy like “a true love’s kiss” or “you learned your lesson”. Pure logic and Sarah’s hard work to get there. Huge fan of this. 

I will never get over how good Nyles looks waking up and Sarah is xtra pretty in that scene:’) 

Nyles just wants to stay in a loop forever because it means for sure that he gets to stay with Sarah forever and I’m lowkey into it but also like lowkey LISTEN TO HER AND GO WITH HER PLAN, NYLES

“I wanna stay with you” *sniffles*

“I love you. How about that?” PRETTY FUCKING GOOD 

I love Nyles’ character development. He started off so nonchalant and cold, closed off and by this point he’s the softest, smiliest in love fool I’ve ever seen and Andy does it so good. SAMBERG HEART EYES!!

“Nothing is real in here” YES SARAH UR LOVE IS

I’m taking Sarah’s asking Nyles to believe in her and leave with her as her first “I love you” because it’s very clear that she wants to leave with him rather than without. 

just- this entire scene i ugh <3 <3 <3 <3

BREAKING. UP. WITH. MISTY ! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

glass of wine filled to the brim? sarah’s my type of gal

the speech was really beautiful and sweet without being too cheesy and kudos to cristin for really delivering it like a pro! especially her “abe, don’t fuck this up” like yes girl kill him, chop him to pieces with your eyes!!! also camila is such really pretty bride

nyles looks like a cockatoo here :

nyles taking the shot and smashing the glass into the ground got me 🤭😵😏🥵

“I’m your son” I SCREAM

GIVE THE MAN A WHITE HORSE DAMNIT

Gotta admit Sarah looks like a bomb (lol nu pun intended) ass super hero in her bridesmaid dress and C4-gettup 

The sentence ending up being total grammatical gibberish but Nyles trying so. damn. hard is the sweetest thing ever and should and will go down in rom-com history. It’s super romantic but also well-balanced by humor and I just.. so good. This is the kind of characters and relationships I love and wanna write myself 

“you’re my favorite person that i’ve ever met” 🥺🥺🥺

“i’d rather die with you than live in this world without you” WHY AM I SO SINGLE SOMEONE LOVEE ME LIKE THIS 

okay so idk but “what if we get sick of each other?” “we’re already sick of each other. it’s the best.” is so so so soft, the way nyles says it like it doesn’t matter and is honestly another key moment for me: they’ve experienced basically everything imaginable during their time in the box/loop. they’ve liked, disliked, loved, hated each other and still: he loves her. the fact that nyles knows no matter what happens it won’t stop that because it’s them?? ouch my heart. 

this chaotic mess of a pairing?MESSY BOMB BRIDESMAID AND CURLY-HAIR HAWAII SHIRT-BOI!! MY OTp

Them dissing Nyles’ mom on their way into potential death? that’s love, baby 

the fUCKING KISSSSSSS MANNNNNNNNNN!!!! SO ICONIC AND THE EXPLOSION IN THE BACKGROUND AND JUST WE DESERVE THIS THEY DESERVE THIS EVERYONE DESERVES THISSSS!!! 

NEVER OVEER THIS EVER FOREVER NEVER

Ok so I was SURE that when it faded to black that it was done and I grew super ficking frustrated because it would leave us with this “the ending is up to whatever you chose”-kinda thing kinda a la Celeste and Jesse where it just feels unresolved and I WASN’T OKAY WITH THAT. So I’m so happy we got to know that it worked and the bebes will live happuilly ever after with Nyles’ shaggy dog:’) 

Their hands on each other’s knee >>>>>

all in all 100000/10 

[fanfoolishness]

Random live-blogging of the Mandalorian, 1x5 The Gunslinger, commence!

I’d forgotten how the Razor Crest was nearly blown to little bits in the beginning of this episode, but, duh, this is why he needed repairs from Pelli

If beskar as armor is part of one’s soul, is the Razor Crest just like another layer on the soul/beskar onion as armor itself?

So Din’s just left Sorgan, you could easily insert a few more days or weeks between leaving Sorgan to getting into this dogfight...

Fic ideas, Din as the Crest rattles and burns around him, acutely aware of the Child beside him, thinking of the void out there past metal and plastisteel; Din and Grogu *leaving* Sorgan, that trip on the cart out of the village contrasted with the trip to the village, seeing the sunrise when they arrived and the sunset when they left? Think of how much better they know each other after this time, consider them having private conversations on the trip away from the village, just in head tilts and expressions? Ahhh they probably wouldn’t be that good at communicating yet, but then again, fic.

I love how fucking petty Din is, “that’s my line”

I love how the Crest flying off after Din explodes the guy chasing them is so fucking Western it makes my heart sing

Ohhh I saw the shot with the single pauldron! Also Din seemed much much more confident with Grogu than he did in the previous episode. Rocked that baby to sleep like a pro

What’s the cloth coming out of all the stormtrooper helmets on pikes? Their underwear? Their tiny shrouds of Turin???

Peli’s such a babe

Is there a Peli action figure? I want a Peli dammit.

I swear I heard Grogu literally crying when he wakes up andrealizing there’s something inside the ship, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him do that before or since? Maybe I just forgot

Poor Din though, because that can’t be nice to rock to sleep sometimes

Is the sound I hear as “uwuu” what people think is him saying “patu”? Because I don’t think I’ve ever heard that either

Oh shit I am starting to be able to read the Aurebesh, I’m in too deep

Awww hello Frog Lady! We were talking in Discord about how long did Peli really know Frog Lady (she told Din she just met her, yet knew how to speak the language of a really rare species?) Some voted that Peli just takes space duolingo lesions and learned Frog language as a lark, but I think she and Peli had really been besties for months by the time Din gives Frog Lady a ride.

I love how solid and real and built-in-somebody’s-garage most droids are in the SW universe

IT’S FENNEC

I’m so glad the show isn’t about the young bounty hunter, I’m just so grateful everyone useful in this show is in their 30s or older

Pedro’s voice acting is so absolutely *done* with this jackoff kid

Callahan? Catalan? Caliphaunt?

Din, seriously, how long did you think the baby was going to sleep???

Omg what if Grogu got used to really long naps when he was on Sorgan so Din thought he’d follow the same pattern, not realizing how important it is for kids to have a routine, and that he just abruptly upended it!

So is Peli a mom, or just a cool aunt? She does know a lot about raising young ones, but it does strike me as a more distant knowledge than motherhood.

I fucking love the music as the two of them ride off on their speeder bikes, it’s so pretty and utterly perfect for traveling

Oh damn I can see the seams of the dome thing they shoot the show on

Hahahahah Tuskens appearing like SUP

Love the signing sooooo much

I swear I used to have a toy dew back when I was a kid, or maybe I just always wanted it?

Oh Fennec, shooting a hole in Mando’s cape

“But I don’t wear any beskar!” “Nope” XD

Ming-Na Wen’s eyelashes are incredible in any role! I literally recognized her at Disneyland by the eyelashes before I saw the rest of her face

Who are you calling OLD MAN, kindergarten rat, that man is in his fucking PRIME

Pedro’s voice sounds extra nice tonight, for no reason

Din is SMOLDERING LITERALLY how did I FORGET THIS

Is there room for whump there? Is our man burned? No, I don’t know if I can write him burned even somewhat, burns are too mean! They hurt too much.

I wonder how Fennec knew about the Tribe being killed? Did Din realize there was a threat there? That something might have already happened? I guess not because he was so shocked in the Redemption. But what if he remembered that later? Ooooh, another angsty flc idea - Din remembering that comment about “I heard it didn’t go so well on Nevarro, but you got out all right” and realizing that being on Sorgan meant he left them undefended?

Poor Fennec, she overplayed her hand! Made the douchebag want the Mando reward too much and got shot ;____; Just glad Boba was there to save her

But really though, how did she survive

Also this guy’s an idiot, you would DEFINITELY need Fennec Shand to help you take Mando down, I mean, you just would

At least he didn’t know what Grogu was really for and just run off with him!!! What if the thought strikes Din in the night? What if the guy had just left with Grogu instead of waiting for Din to return?

“Took you long enough, Mando!” “Fuck you, I was riding a dewback”

I do love the two-handed baby grab Din does, it’s just sweet

How much extra did Mando pay Peli? We don’t know but it’s clear he’s a generous sort

Almost all of Mando’s concept art is capeless here, I wonder why? And in that last shot he is definitely carrying a body wrapped in a sheet on the back of the dewback???

Onto chapter 6!

[hermannsthumb]

What do you think about writing a bit about badboy Hermann, Who decides to be a rebel and awkward and nerdy newt?

this fic is just [hermann gottlieb voice] be gay do crime

did you know that Rebellious Hermann is like, the best

———————-

Newt’s standards for classifying things as out of the ordinary have gone up significantly since the whole end-of-the-world-at-the-hands-of-interdimensional-aliens things, but that that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate something as being fucking weird every now and then when the opportunity presents itself. Case in point: Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, PhD, record-holder for the largest stick-up-an-ass of all time, currently bypassing the security to the rangers’ locker room and breaking about a dozen PPDC protocols just…to take a bath?

“Well, that’s the gist of it, I suppose,” Hermann says. “Obviously it’s not just to take a bath. The facilities in here are rather nice–steam, that sort of–” He gives a small, frustrated grunt. “Damn it, Newton, hold that bloody flashlight steady!”

“I’m trying, dude,” Newt says, and clamps one hand down over his slightly–slightly–trembling wrist to keep it in place. He’s not sure what he expected when he sneaked out after Hermann tonight, but it wasn’t this. “I’ve never broken in anywhere before, okay? I’m a little…” He casts a glance down the long, pitch-black hallway to their right, then the long, pitch-black hallway to their left, and scuffs his boot against the floor. “…nervous.”

Hermann turns to him sharply. Newt can’t make out his expression in the darkness, but if he’d had to wager a guess, he’d say it’s smug. “Newton Geiszler, rock star extraordinaire,” he says. “Self-described–ah, what was it?”

“Shut up,” Newt says.

“Rebel,” Hermann says. “Punk.”

“Ha, ha,” Newt says.

“And yet you’ve never once–”

“I’m a punk!” Newt half-whines, half-shouts. It’s pathetic even to his own ears, and he can hear Hermann snort. “No, I am, I am! I shoplift gum and shit all the time! And, uh–” He wracks his brains for examples of all the cool, rebellious stuff he’s done. Once he made out on the back of a motorcycle with one of his ex-boyfriends. He’s gotten arrested at plenty of protests. He broke a Nazi’s nose in a barfight. That counts for, like, eighty cool points. “Look,” he finally says, “just because I’ve never had the chance to break in anywhere before doesn’t mean I’m not a punk!” 

“Certainly, Newton,” Hermann says loftily. He turns back to the open panel of wires he’s been poking at and adds, “Flashlight.”

Grumbling, Newt angles the beam back over Hermann’s shoulder and makes a conscious effort to hold it steady. Hermann continues poking around at the wires with his special pliers. Which he keeps, apparently, just for doing stuff like this. “Where did you learn to hack shit, anyway?” Newt says.

“Newton,” Hermann says. “I code jaegers.”

The door shoots open with a whoosh. Hermann drops the wires and settles the metal panel of the wall back in its place, then straightens up with a small groan. “There we are,” he says. “Do hurry. We don’t want to be seen.”

Newt switches off the flashlight.

Hermann was right, it turns out, about this place being worthy of sort-of committing felonies: giant sunken bathtubs, actual shower stalls, a sauna. Logically, Newt knows, it makes sense–back in the glory days of the PPDC the rangers were actual goddamn rock stars, but it still stings a little to know that a good portion of what could’ve been the k-science budget is now going towards Chuck Hansen’s bubble baths instead. “I come here every Friday night,” Hermann explains, leaning against the tile wall for balance as he shucks off his blazer and dorky saddle shoes. “It’s quiet at this time, and completely deserted–perfect for thinking.”

“Right,” Newt says.

Hermann strips out of his sweatervest.

“Uh,” Newt says. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a bath, of course,” Hermann says. He gives Newt a lingering once-over, nose wrinkling very slightly in something that might be disgust. “Hm, you ought to try one of the showers. The water pressure is divine.” Another once-over. “You could use a shower, actually. Are you aware you smell like rotting kaiju flesh?”

“You know exactly what to say to get a guy’s blood bumping, baby,” Newt says, but he won’t deny that Hermann’s right. He does stink pretty bad.

Hermann takes a ridiculously long bath that steams up the entire locker room, and Newt takes a shower with the best water pressure he’s felt since he traded in his overpriced apartment in Boston for military barracks. They reconvene by the deserted lockers once they’re done: Newt, having managed to wiggle back into his skinny jeans (a daunting task with damp legs), Hermann in a pilfered fluffy PPDC bathrobe and what appears to be plaid pajama bottoms. Of course Hermann wears plaid pajamas. “I found this with the towels,” Hermann explains, lifting his left arm. The bathrobe sleeve slides down to his elbow.

“Should you be, uh,” Newt says, “taking that?”

“It was still in plastic wrap,” Hermann says. “Close the door behind you.”

They slip out of the locker room, and Newt regrets shutting the door the instant he does it: they’re thrust once more into complete darkness, and until his eyes adjust, Newt’s only assurances that he hasn’t just been flung into some inky void of space are the blinking of a smoke detector overhead and the rhythmic clacking of Hermann’s cane. Even when they do adjust, it’s still fucking dark. “Hermann?” he squeaks.

“Over here,” Hermann says.

There’s a pinprick burst of flame some three feet ahead–Hermann’s lighter--and it illuminates Hermann’s face, his fingers, the newly-smoldering cigarette hanging from his lips. Newt scurries to catch up to him while he can still see. “I’m pretty sure this is a non-smoking area, you know,” he whispers, with a nervous glance up at the smoke detector’s light.

Hermann flicks ash to the floor. “Bugger that,” he snorts.

“You know, you’re like this one asshole who lived on my floor my junior year of undergrad,” Newt continues to whisper, trailing closely behind Hermann’s clack clack clack and the stale scent of smoke. “He set the fire alarm off every single fucking week because he wouldn’t, just, like, crack a window when he wanted to get high. One time--” Hermann’s cane clacks a little faster, which means Hermann’s trying to get away from Newt. Newt goes a little faster, too. “--one time it went off when I was in the shower and I had to, like, go outside wet, and it was snowing, and--”

“Oh, we’re here,” Hermann suddenly says, sounding very, very relieved. The orange glow of his cigarette is snubbed out against the wall. “Flashlight, please, Newton.”

“Oh, yeah,” Newt says. He fumbles it from his pocket and flicks it on.

They’re in a wing of the Shatterdome Newt doesn’t recognize, standing in front of a large door with an actual padlock--no keypad, like the rangers’ locker rooms or LOCCENT or any of the other higher-clearance areas that guys like Newt and Hermann don’t stand a chance getting into. Hermann pulls a hairpin from his pocket, tosses his cane to Newt (who only just manages to catch it without dropping the flashlight) and bends over the padlock.

“You’re kidding,” Newt says. “What’s in there?”

“Kitchen storage,” Hermann says. “They won’t miss one or two boxes of tea--they never have before--and anyway, it’s far less unsightly than just jamming teabags into one’s pockets in the middle of the mess hall, like you do with that instant hot cocoa rubbish.” There’s a metallic click. “Ah. There.”

Hermann places the padlock off to the side, takes back his cane, and tugs a cord dangling from the ceiling; as light floods out, Newt gapes at him unashamedly. “Okay, look, I can get hacking security, but--when the fuck did you learn how to pick locks?” Not even Newt knows how to pick locks, and between the two of them, he’s the way cooler one.

Newt can see Hermann’s smug smile this time. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized,” he says. “My teenage years were rather rebellious, and I daresay I never quite grew out of it. I imagine I could still hold my own in a fight should the need ever arise.” He tucks the hairpin into Newt’s top shirt pocket and gives it a little pat; then, to Newt’s surprise, he straightens out Newt’s collar. “Here,” he says. “Keep it for practice, if you like.”

Newt realizes he’s holding his breath. “Okay,” he squeaks.

---------------------------

If Newt replays the sensation of Hermann fixing his collar over and over in his head that night, and if--when he finally dozes off--it’s only to dreams about making out with him on the backs of motorcycles, then Hermann never has to know.

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 9

Episode 21.

Suddenly it's a found footage shakey cam horror movie. I think it's meant to be footage of ... NERV before it was NERV labs in 2000 with some bad shit happening. I'm unclear of so much in this episode, guys.

There is one of those blue screens with the white text that warns you that if you make copies of this you will go to jail for a million years, though, which feels nice and nostalgic before we get into the opening credits. (Opening? Still a bop. Thank you, '90s.)

Episode 21 continues behind the cut.

Someone has been kidnapped from NERV, possibly by or because of Kaji (fuckin' Kaji), and because all these NERV people are interchangeable except for Misato, Ritsuko, and Shinji's horrible father, I have no idea who it is until we see the old dude who is usually behind Ikari. He's tied to a chair in a black void, surrounded by an increasing number of numbered obelisks who I think are the old man Simon council but instead of projecting as old men they're ... obelisks. Look, their government is run by supercomputers named after the Magi. This is as fine as anything.

The obelisks don't like Commander Ikari (same) or what he's doing (same) and want Number 2 to explain what's going on (same) due to the Dead Sea Scrolls and their desire not to create god (... same?). Which means it's time for BACKSTORY or as close as this show gets to backstory.

Number 2 used to be a scientist/academic at ... a school ... lab ... university ... somewhere ... where he met a promising young student of ... science stuff ... named Ikari. There's some sentence vagaries to make the audience think the student is a young Commander Ikari but PSYCH, it's /Yui/, Shinji's mysteriously dead mother. This is not a big surprise, because no one would be anticipating meeting Gendo Ikari. What is a surprise is that Yui Ikari is currently single, although if you've consumed enough Japanese media you've probably encountered cases where a husband takes the wife's surname and is adopted into her family when there's no sons in the family (Summer of the Ubume). ANYWAY Yui is currently single and Number 2 talks to her about her post-graduation career plans, failing to consider that maybe she wants to get married and start a family. Find your own path and all that but also: this is a woman who is going to make terrible life choices.

I don't know why, but as a favour to Yui, Number 2 goes to spring an absolute piece of shit ... fellow student? from the drunk tank after he got arrested for brawling and it is, of course, Gendo Originalsurnamewhocareshesucks. We see him without his glasses for the first time. Even though this is ~15 years ago, Gendo without his glasses is the worst thing ever, rivaling yes the EVA with the giant white human teeth ripping an Angel apart and screaming. I hate looking at him, his cheeks sunken and his eyes huge, very like a skull. The real thesis material in Evangelion is: why has anyone ever slept with this awful gaunt uncharming skull man? He has the visage and personality of someone whose genetic line should die with him.

On a nature walk (because this is before seasons are destroyed by the second impact [and this is a really pretty scene, too, all fall leaves and oranges and red, more vibrant yet gentle than the series often is]) Yui reveals to Number 2 that she and Gendo are in a relationship. Why? Look, that's some Dead Sea Scrolls bullshit, learn ancient Hebrew and get into archeology, unearth some tablets, figure it out for yourselves.

The Second Impact happens and destroys Antarctica and Misato's father and she becomes mute for a while after this and also is kept in a featureless hospital cell for observation with a few age appropriate toys for company and for some reason this doesn't help her mental trauma. No wonder her roommate's a penguin.

The Misato flashback may seem like it comes out of nowhere and if so /hey welcome to my experience of this episode/ where I mostly had my hands on my forehead like I needed to reinforce my brain to process everything.

Number 2 and Shitty Gendo are in Antarctica after the Second Impact with the neon pink ocean and the none ice and oh Gendo and Yui got married. Surprise! Gendo and Yui or Gendo through Yui are involved in something called Seele which is the thing that becomes NERV I think. What's going on /shut up I don't know/ there's some kind of secret science government military organization and it involves the Ikari and then Number 2 and also Ritsuko's mother and underground caverns that may be cities and is this Atlantis? Ancient aliens? Akashic records? I DON'T KNOW Number 2 has concerns and Yui both seems to agree with Number 2's concerns but also is down with whatever Gendo's doing and they have Shinji and he seems like a pretty happy and cute baby and Yui seems to love him even though she brings him to work. And by work I mean the underground lab where they're dissecting or recreating flesh tube skeletons from Adam or building Adam or using Adam to build what will be the Evas, specifically on the day Yui is doing The Experiment. I don't think bringing little Shinji to work is a great idea or a sign of great parenting, especially when The Experiment goes awry and Yui is killed in front of Shinji's toddler eyes.

Ritsuko's mother, Dr. ... Doctor, doesn't approve of kids in the secret mad scientist bunker but MAN does she approve of Yui being killed. Because, somehow, she also wants to fuck Gendo Ikari, a skeleton of emotional abuse and neglect wearing sausage casing as skin.

There's also some stuff here about young Ritsuko (she's not a natural blonde! but honestly the fleeting glimpses of Ritsuko at different ages in this episode show greater awareness of how women can change without just relying on bigger breasts more hair than I'd expect). She and her mother exchange letters where they seem to be more honest with each other than they are in person and I wish there was more time spent dwelling in that, because Evangelion has an imperfect but still insightful view of the complexity of mother-daughter relationships. She goes away to school and meets Misato and they bond and become friends and they each seem to be the other's first friend due to their various issues and weirdness and Ritsuko's clearly at least a little in love with Misato. Unfortunately, Misato is dating Kaji (fuckin' Kaji) and Dr. Doctor thinks Kaji is a pretty great catch, but like ... Dr. Doctor wants to fuck or possibly is fucking Gendo Ikari, so if you can think of a great condemnation of Kaji than this, I'd love to hear it (fuckin' Kaji).

Misato and Ritsuko both join Seele or NERV or whatever the fuck these secret awful organizations are currently calling themselves, with Misato going to Germany and Ritsuko starting to work with her mother and also seeing her mother just jamming her tongue down Gendo's throat. Truly, Ritsuko could never understand her mother as a woman and neither can we, because /why would you desire Gendo Ikari/ and his judgmental touch, icy even through fucking Mickey Mouse gloves.

SO ONE DAY Gendo comes to work with a young Rei and I guess since Yui died no one has seen Shinji since people are looking at Rei and going 'oh is this your son?' and 'I thought you had a son, not a daughter'. But no, Rei is the daughter of a friend Gendo is looking after. Imagine thinking 'Gendo Ikari has even a single friend' is a believable lie.

Since Yui's death, no one has bothered to institute any kind of secret underground lab rules about kids on the premises, because while Dr. Doctor is doing some shit with her O. Henry super computers, little Rei wanders in and proceeds to neg the shit out of this grown woman. They're obviously not the words of a child and it's been clear since the beginning that there's something Not Right about Rei, but when she tells Dr. Doctor that she's a sexually undesirable hag and a nagging shrew and has outlived her purpose they're the words of a man. An adult man, specifically Gendo Ikari, as Rei just straight up tells Dr. Doctor upon being scolded for rudeness. Dr. Doctor's poor judgment of character means she is semi-shocked and hurt by this and sent into a weird fugue state where she chokes Rei until a small arm goes limp. Dr. Doctor thinks about how both she and Rei are both equally replaceable to Gendo, who is still hung up on Yui as much as he seems able to have an emotional attachment to anyone, and so finds all other women to be interchangeable tools.How replaceable Rei is could be a reference to whatever Rei's unnatural origins are, but we've also seen that Gendo considers children to be a renewable and easily disposable resource.

Then Dr. Doctor kills herself (or is murdered, who can say) and gets ... replaced by her daughter in the project.

SO I GUESS THIS IS ALL PART OF NUMBER 2'S TESTIMONY TO THE OBELISKS or maybe not but his thing is done or on break and fuckin' Kaji is there to ... break him out? Even though he's the reason Number 2 was getting interrogated? I don't know, I don't know.

They only use one set of handcuffs for Number 2, but they had three on Shinji in the previous episode.

Misato also had some thing with security intelligence interrogation going on in this episode maybe but they're done and give her back her gun.

Then Kaji's hanging out in a Silent Hill otherworld before a giant fan in weird sickly light and the screen goes black with a gunshot and I don't believe he's dead because I've been fooled about fuckin' Kaji before.

... but then Misato comes home, looking utterly exhausted and devastated, and she sees the message light blinking on her answering machine and she presses play as tears fill her eyes and she collapses to her knees listening to a message from Kaji. He apologizes for causing her trouble yet again, asks her to apologize to Ritsuko as well, asks her to get Shinji to show her where his garden is so she can water the flowers for him, and promises to tell her what he was too scared to tell her years ago. Misato's crying becomes heartwrenching raw sobs (Kotono Mitsuishi does a great job here, breaking my heart) and Shinji, curled up in his room, takes out his headphones and peeks into the kitchen to take in this vision of distraught, helpless adult grief. Then he goes back to his room without alerting Misato to his presence and pulls his pillow over his head, trying to drown out Misato's sobs, because he's just a kid and he knows there's nothing he can do and so he doesn't know what he /should/ do.

Although I've been wanting it for episodes, Kaji's death becomes a bitter pill that I can feel no mean satisfaction from. I'm not sure what's going on, but I know Misato's distraught. This concludes my report on Episode 21 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

[angelaiswriting]

Children (4 of 4) | Michael Gray

[Photo by Pixabay from Pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Michael Gray x wife!reader

✏️ Summary: Michael is back from the war, but is he really? Life is still difficult and the Gray family is falling apart under Y/N’s helpless gaze. (Requested by @duckydae)

✏️ A/N: wow, I reached a new level of angst. @kind-wolf will not be happy haha 

✏️ A/N 2: also, another note, just as a sort of background info. The whole America thing (and obviously Gina) didn’t happen, everything’s peachy between Michael and Tommy (and the rest of the squad fam). :)

✏️ Warnings: angst and a slight hint of smut and ‘mature’ themes (sort of PTSD talking, drugs use, depressive moments ?), so for safety measures, 18+ only! I hate it when you guys are minors and cheat me, don’t think I’m stupid.

✏️ Word-count: 5,613

<< part one: children <<  |  << part two: anna and john <<  |  << part three: a bigger table <<  |  PART FOUR: WARHORSE

There has never been this much silence in the Grays’ house―six years have done plenty to change the precious status quo of things. Even the children are afraid to step on those floorboards that creak a little louder than the rest.

“The children”―they have stopped being children a long time ago, when their Daddy had to leave for the continent, Y/N reasons. They’ve grown up quicker than she did when her time had come, when the war had come crashing against the shores like a tide and had brought her father away in its muddy waves.

John and Anna are now adults―probably too young to be such―definitely too young―but it doesn’t matter, not in 1946. John is eighteen, Anna just two years younger, and while Y/N always sees them as her babies, she knows that what she’s looking at is the result of something she never thought would come again.

Even the twins don’t feel like the fourteen-year-olds they’re supposed to be. Rebellious, headstrong, Henry and Paul get in more trouble than she can count and there’s nothing she can do to help. Nothing she can do to stop that barbaric destruction her children are going through.

Michael doesn’t help. Michael can’t help―he can’t even help himself. He sits in their bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights switched on―he’s afraid of the outer world, but he is even more of the darkness. And of what the darkness carries in its hands when it clouds his vision and the ratatat of the artillery fills not only his ears, but his veins as well.

Bill can’t help his Daddy. Bill, with his angelic face and curly hair, with that omnipresent smile on his face and that silence that always accompanies him around. Bill, from the hill of his ten years of age, can’t help his Daddy, can’t bring him back to the Brummie countryside where everything is as quiet as he is.

He’s hated―Y/N knows it and refuses to acknowledge it at the same time. His father can’t bear his company, can’t bear his presence. And it’s not because he’s mute, but because his silence fills his father’s void with screaming creatures and living horrors he just wants to forget, to delete from his memory, a burning rod scraping and digging into the grey matter of his brain.

He’s mute, too, Michael, but for a completely different reason. His lips are sealed during the day and while he’s started to finally eat again, his tongue doesn’t move, his lips don’t give shape to any kind of words.

There are screams during the night, though―blood-curdling screams that give her nightmares in the waking hours of her days―that make her skin crawl as she turns on her left side to face her husband. The screams are worse than the bombings, worse than the shrilling yells of the air-raid sirens that sometimes still thrum in her lungs and in her stomach.

But tonight is different. Tonight Michael doesn’t scream―and that’s because he doesn’t sleep. He can’t sleep, can’t bring himself to close his eyes, to see the walking skeletons that still plague his every breath with the same violence of the silence in this house. He lies there, on top of crumpled sheets, butt-naked, staring at a ceiling that’s giving him visions. He sees waves in the stucco decorations watching his every move from above, and he hears voices, whispered voices that ring like a mixture between Russian and German to his frustrated ear.

The need to scream is there, tickling the base of his throat with those chilling cold fingers that scrape at the sides of his brain every day. But there’s no sound leaving his lips.

He thinks of snow. It’s the first time in forever and the need is so strong that it’s making his mind spin, his vision blur, the muscles in his thighs cramp. He thinks that if only he manages to find some―he’s sure John uses some every once in a while―then everything will be alright. For a few hours, that is. His wife doesn’t need to know, doesn’t need to hear a thing. All he has to do is get up from that bed of thorns, walk down the corridor and into his first son’s room, and look for that God-damned magic white powder that will make him leave his body for a few, precious hours.

But when he sits up, a man possessed by his need for cocaine, the bedsheets whisper under his ass, the mattress moans and holding his breath is of no use because his wife is already turning in his direction. She didn’t fall asleep in the first place―she just can’t if he doesn’t fall asleep first, these days.

Hate bubbles up in his mouth like vomit―and it’s so sudden and unexpected that it would make him shiver if only war didn’t skin him alive. And it’s hate that makes him seethe that Go back to sleep through gritted teeth.

“Where are you going?” Her voice scrapes his eardrums, removes layer after layer of membrane from his brain. Even the faint sound of her breathing makes the nerves under his skin come to life, tense and creak like a branch ready to break and fall to the ground.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” It’s the most he’s said in the five months he’s been back home and he all but hates the sound of his voice. It’s foreign to his own ears, and it’s strained, paper-thin, dry like fallen leaves on a winter day.

He wants to tear his throat out with his own bare hands.

She doesn’t answer and he feels the mortal combat going on in her soul, feels it in the air like the static electricity before the storm comes. But the storm never comes. And despite his raging need for some drug-induced happiness, he sits and waits like a man staring out at the never-ending expanse of the sea.

His mouth is dry, his tongue a dead weight pressing against the back of his teeth. It weighs him down, loads his muscles with lead and cement and ashes. So many ashes that he can smell his own flesh burn and combust, baring his bones for the world to see.

“Come sleep with me.” It’s a whisper and the sound of his wife’s voice is worse than the furious march of tanks. 

He’s repulsed by his wife―and repulsed by the fact that he’s repulsed by his wife.

*

There’s a mist of constant anger following Anna and her mother can’t read its reasons behind it. She wants her father back―she needs her father back now that she ended up pregnant with the child of a veteran more dead than the dead.

She’s only sixteen and she’s having a baby she doesn’t want with a man that doesn’t see her through the curtain of what he’s already seen.

‘46 is the year Love died, or so it feels as Y/N cries bitter tears in the desolate solitude of the kitchen. It’s like war didn’t end, like it brought back a monster that still has to exhale its last breath.

Sometimes she thinks she sees it. In the vacuous look in her husband’s eyes. In John’s stubborn studies. In the mess the twins give birth to every single day without cease. Even in William’s eerie silence, and she’s glad he’s off to school, now, she’s glad the week has finally started again and has brought him away for a few days.

There is no escaping what the monster does to people. Anna could get rid of the baby if she weren’t that scared, but she can’t get rid of her husband. Can’t kill off the only man she’s ever loved and that has always treated her like a queen, worshipping her like one worships God in a temple.

“Why doesn’t he say anything?” Rage burns her only daughter’s voice as she stomps into the kitchen, purposefully loud as if she’s trying to catch her father’s attention, to rile a reaction out of him the way warm water and baking soda help you vomit. “Why doesn’t he say anything?!” Voice louder, tears are burning hotter than her anger on her cheeks and there’s no stopping the furious movement of her hand, which reaches up to wipe them away.

“Anna-”

“NO!” It booms and echoes in the cramped space of the kitchen of that countryside house. It rattles against the dishes in the cupboard, scratches the wood on the walls, hits the thick panels of the windows as it scorches the girl’s throat, threatening to punch out her teeth. “Don’t do this, don’t treat me as though I don’t understand shit!”

They cry―it’s unwanted and almost humiliating, for everybody’s trying to ignore the elephant in the room, but they still do cry together, clutching at each other like they both were unyielding rocks under the onslaught of the sea. They cry and they do so in vain, for Anna’s still pregnant and Y/N’s still hated. Those tears don’t change the new reality of things and while the hiccups disrupt the otherwise gravel silence of the house, nothing happens.

Nothing can happen.

Probably nothing ever will.

“I need him and he’s a fucking ghost.”

When they look back at it in a few hours, neither will be able to say with complete certainty who pronounced those words, for they belong in both of their mouths. Y/N craves love, Anna - a father, and neither can have any.

*

John is high. He’s so high it’s a miracle he’s not floating mid-air and while his mother knows how good snow can feel, she still cries bloody tears when she sees her son like that.

John, ahead of his peers and studying psychology to help build a better world from the inside, is just as shattered as everybody else. He lies on the grass, under the shadow of an oak and the blue sky of a late-May afternoon.

And for a blind moment, Y/N thinks she’s lost him to the family’s very own sin. And she almost pukes right then and there, turned away as she is towards the flowerbeds she’s spent so much time tending to―it doesn’t matter that the house is surrounded by flowers planted in the hopes of forgetting, for nobody seems to be able to see them anyway.

But then he smiles, and he calls her over, and for a second she can see a glimpse of how Michael used to look like. The boy lost John Shelby’s looks and resemblance right before turning ten and has since then started down a path that was bound to make him stand out like his father’s very copy. Beautiful and strong and just as passionate about life and horses as one could be.

Life and horses and Tokyo.

“You are so beautiful, Mum,” he says, knocking the air out of her lungs as she stands there, frozen in time and space as she stares down at him. “You shouldn’t cry so much. Red eyes don’t look good on you.”

For a weird, unknown reason she bursts out laughing. She doesn’t know when the last time she laughed was, and John doesn’t recall it either.

It feels good, liberating, even. She didn’t think she still had it in herself to produce such sound, to let go in a burst of unexpected laughter induced by a second-hand high. But it’s good and for a moment, it makes her forget better than gardening has ever done.

“Where did you find it?” The words are out before she can stop them―she doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to know who gave her precious son a pinch of that artificial happiness that’s still staining his nostrils.

John looks happier than he’s ever looked in the last six years and a half. He looks like himself once again and she’s terrified to the bone by this thought―by this realisation―by the fact that there’s still a glimpse of the real him just because he’s managed to find the Devil’s powder somewhere she can’t even name.

“Charlie,” he answers with a chuckle almost as if to ask her Who else do you think has coke to spare, uh, Mum? The name also rings like an accusation, acid and scorching like an unwanted truth―It’s always been in the family and always will be. We’ll turn into snow when we die. And then we go straight to hell. “It’s good shit.” His dreamy eyes are more terrifying than the appalling screams tearing her husband’s body apart from the inside. “Have some with me.”

She doesn’t. The need to is strong, buzzing with a life of its own in her very veins with the same intensity it burned in Michael’s just a month before, the night he ordered her to go back to sleep before walking out naked of their shared room.

“Isn’t this the best feeling in the world?” Johnny asks and she lies―Yes. Yes, it is.

But she’s crying. She’s crying silent tears that stream down her ashy face like rivers. Their saltiness tastes like blood between her parted lips and she’s sure that they’re staining her teeth red, turning her mouth into that of a monster.

That’s the first time she thinks her family is dying, slowly falling apart between her numb, useless fingers, under her heart as heavy as a tombstone. It wrecks her from the inside out, a little more with each minute she passes staring into her son’s blissed-out eyes.

Yes, it’s the best feeling in the world, she cries, holding him between trembling arms as she feels old and decomposed inside.

*

Tommy’s visit is unexpected that night. And for a moment, his possessed face is all Y/N can see as she does her best not to recoil in front of that ghost as she keeps the entrance door open.

“Can I come in?”

His voice rings foreign to her ears, paper rustling in the wind, aged by years spent smoking―and then screaming. His whole face appears alien, a haunting vision out of a blood-freezing nightmare.

She doesn’t answer, but she does step back―enough to let him see the bare hall but not enough to let him pass. And it’s not because she doesn’t want him in her house, but because she can’t move, rooted as she is to the stone floor she scrubs every morning, from four to six, just to keep her own mind distracted after the restless night she’s had.

Henry and Paul follow the man with their heads hanging low and they, too, look like a spectral vision. Bloodied faces, crumpled clothes. Two fourteen-year-olds suddenly aged into old men.

She’s on the verge of fainting.

She’s weak and trembling inside, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets and she doesn’t even know why. Doesn’t know why the world is spinning and her throat constricting, vomit threatening to make an appearance after the tasteless dinner she’s still recovering from.

Yes, it’s the best feeling in the world. She now wishes she had kept her son’s cocaine because she could so use a snort right about now.

If nothing, it’s a blessing that Michael is in bed already―that he hasn’t moved from the mattress the whole day. A lack of reaction on his part is what would make or break her―break her most likely.

“Where is Michael?”

She doesn’t answer. Her tongue is knotted and her mouth is stuffed―with what, she doesn’t know, but it has the strangely familiar taste of nightmares. Her hand is still on the door handle: if she lets go, she’s going to fall. She’s going to fall knees first to the floor and there’s nobody there willing to pick her up―not her sons, not her husband’s cousin.

He’s seen too much already―Tommy. He’s marched through two wars and the extra years he’s been granted in France after the Great War have been wasted away between France and Germany now, possibly even Italy―she doesn’t know for sure―doesn’t want to know for sure.

Y/N wants to speak but can’t. Wants to ask her children what’s wrong with them and why do you want to break your mother’s heart? You stop being you the moment you give birth to your children, or so she’s always thought. Life starts again with a new Day One and all that came before that was extra. But now motherhood feels like lead shoes, pulling her down to the bottom of the ocean as her lungs fight against the salty water, fight for oxygen, fight for-

She doesn’t know, not anymore.

“They’ve been going at it again,” Tommy says, looking around and taking in the bare walls of a once well-decorated house. There had once been wind chimes hanging from the ceiling on the middle of the hall, but they’re not there anymore. And Tommy knows why. “Paul more than Henry.”

He says this almost as though Y/N knows what he’s talking about. The truth is, she doesn’t. And as soon as he’s going to leave, the twins are going to go upstairs without even glancing in her direction. That’s how it always goes, how her heart keeps on breaking day in and day out. There’s no rest. Absolutely no rest from that kind of torture.

“I’ll keep an eye on them, but…” He trails off, averts his eyes from hers almost as though the sight of her has burned him. He breathes in deeply and for a moment he keeps the air there, somewhere in-between his nose and his brain, afraid he’s going to smell blood or gunpowder or the acrid stink of war. “You keep one on them, too.”

The best feeling in the world―she’s not even sure she remembers what such a thing is. Nor if it even existed and she was there to witness.

She nods, and it’s all she can do.

“Keep them home for a week. The waters need to calm down.” These words make her gag, but she’s quick at swallowing it, at looking away―from the devil and from her sons. Then, Tommy reaches the door again, takes her hand off the handle. It’s not a gentle touch―he pries her fingers off the brass knob and that’s it. Dead fingers touching dying fingers―it doesn’t matter that her nails are painted a calm shade of pink, pale cyclamen on a spring morning. “Two is better.”

He leaves without turning back, without telling her it’s all going to be okay, that he’s there for her and her family, that he’ll come back, sooner or later. There’s no solace for her soul, sick and tired and on the brink of the abyss, staring up at her with its raping, hungry eyes. There are no words for wives like her, for women like her, left behind even when the husbands are back, breathing.

The best feeling-

She’s sobbing before she has the chance to feel the sob, to feel the tears sting her desensitised eyes. And she’s clutching a hand over her mouth because she can’t make a noise, can’t make a noise, can’t make a noise. Not in this house, not in this world.

“Mum?”

She wants to scream at them, wants to kick them out―out of the house, but not out of her life, she couldn’t take it, couldn’t-

“Mum?”

There’s a hand on her shoulder and the contact makes her jolt―almost jump out of her fucking skin.

They can’t see her like that.

And at the same time, part of her wants them to see. Wants them to know they’re not the only ones suffering.

Greedy bastards.

And she’s scared of that sudden, intrusive thought in the desolated land her mind has become.

“We’re sorry, mum.”

And when they hug her, Henry from one side and Paul from the other, she cries even harder because she’d do anything in her power to give her children a better alternative ending, but she can’t. She doesn’t have the power, doesn’t have the strength.

“So sorry.”

The best feeling in the world is that of the memories long forgotten in the deepest part of her mind, inside that red room she’s had to securely lock back in ‘39. A sunny September day it had been, still tasting like August and summer and the lovemaking sessions under a starry sky her husband had gifted her.

This is…

This is not…

“We’ll be better.”

And she cries because she knows the promise is sincere―fate just isn’t. Fate is against them, a growing tide ready to kidnap anything and anyone on the shore, staring up at an unforgiving moon.

It will last for a day, maybe a week, but soon enough she’ll have to witness her twins’ return home bloodied and battered, and she’ll have to live this moment again.

And again.

And then once more.

And one day Tommy will come home to tell her that her boys have died, that someone has stabbed them both to death and Quick! and Come! Before they bleed out in the middle of the street!

Her worries leave her mouth without her knowing she’s spilling them, bullets of a machine gun travelling a thousand miles a minute, hitting flesh and bone and brick. And soul.

They let her cry until there are no tears left, until she can barely stand on her feet, her right hand back wrapping around the door handle.

The best feeling in the world is a cocaine-induced orgasm, but she doesn’t tell them.

*

Bill is home from school. One more week and she’ll have to endure his presence for the whole summer. She’s terribly aware of how wretched a mother she sounds like, but she thinks this for his own good.

She doesn’t want him at home, at home where everything hurts and the silence eats him alive. Eats them all alive. She wants him away, in some far-away boarding school, someplace where nobody has ever heard of war or grief or silence and every day is a blessing.

Where is Dad? he wants to know with a smile on his face.

He’s a kid―he’s still her baby, the one she held in her loving arms back in ‘35, when shit still had to pop. She’s loved him then and she loves him now, but she’s a liar.

Y/N is a mother and a liar.

“Sleeping,” she answers, stretching a terrifying smile across her lips.

She’s making apple pie―the family’s all-time favourite―and Billy is helping her, pouring cinnamon on freshly cut apple slices with those tiny-but-growing hands of his.

Do you think he’ll enjoy his birthday present?

Oh, honey, I’m not even sure Daddy knows what day it is today, she wants to say but keeps quiet. “He’ll love it, baby.”

William always blushes when she calls him ‘baby’―I’m not a baby anymore, Mummy. And she smiles because he still calls her ‘Mummy’ when the rest of her kids have stopped calling her that before they turned ten. He’s her precious ray of sunshine on a stormy day, somehow managing to pierce the thick layer of clouds covering all sources of light.

But he doesn’t complain today. William is mute, not deaf, and he knows his Mummy cried herself to sleep in the living room last night. It’s his favourite, he signs, fingers wet and sprinkled with cinnamon.

And she hums and for a moment she feels like singing as she’s always done in the past. But she doesn’t, she can’t feel the music inside herself, can’t even conjure up the names of the notes. “We all love it,” she adds, turning back towards the dough she’s somehow correctly making. “You’ll be an amazing chef one day. Everybody will know William Gray’s name from Los Angeles to Tokyo.”

She’s glad Will doesn’t know what Tokyo can be―nor that she’s had a pinch, a few days before, and that that’s been her fuel for a whole day, keeping her up on her feet when all her knees wanted to do was give out under her weight.

It’s almost four in the afternoon when Anna joins them, baby bump barely peeking from underneath the yellow sweatshirt she hopes would help brighten up her day. Andrew hung himself the month before and the unexpected baby won’t have a father for real, now.

She’s used coke, too, a couple of times. Probably not the best choice when there’s a baby involved, but snow always helps everybody, whether it comes from the sky or some back-alley pusher.

“Hey, Billy-boy.” She ruffles William’s loose curls and everybody knows he hates it, but he still smiles at his sister from underneath beautifully long lashes.

Ten years old and he’s probably the more mature in the house. He sees right through the lie, but doesn’t make you feel guilty for lying, doesn’t kick you with the donkey-kick of a priest. Hey, Annie-girl.

She chuckles at the nickname and before she can second-think it, she kneels down and kisses his fingers one by one and then the tip of his nose and hugs him as tight as only a big sister can do. The sight warms Y/N’s heart and for a moment she stands there, tea cloth in one hand and wet kitchen counter forgotten.

The best feeling in the world has the taste of her children hugging, not the bitter one of snow. And it’s warm and bright and breathtaking―utterly breathtaking even now, on the edge of the unknown.

“You’re a good kid,” Anna murmurs in her brother’s ear and then she gasps and freezes and it takes Y/N a while to look up from her kids to see what has shocked her daughter so much.

The world stands still for a minute as she stares at him from the other side of the kitchen. It’s a scary view, it truly is, but it tastes like the sweetest lie, even if he doesn’t say anything, even if it looks like he barely registers his wife or two of his children’s presence in the room.

And then, the spell snaps and it breaks and all Y/N can see is the revolver in his left hand.

The children are out before they have the chance to complain, to tell her that they’d rather stay, that I’ve heard of shit happening, Mum, and I don’t want to bury you in that sweet and worried voice of her daughter that will plague her forever if things go wrong.

“Baby.”

She hasn’t called him ‘baby’ in forever and the word has a weird weight on the tip of her tongue right before it jumps out. The tea cloth is on the floor, forgotten, and she takes slow steps in her husband’s direction, bare feet against bare stone as she tries to ground herself in the moment, to not let her mind wander off. This is not a rabid dog she can shoot in the back of the head, this is her husband, her best friend, the love of her life.

“Baby.”

He’s breathing hard and fast, and when she’s close enough to touch him, she can feel his warmth―his heat. There’s no need to touch him to know he’s feverish, no need to read more in the goosebumps dotting his skin than the temperature rising higher in his body.

“People were here to hurt you.” It feels like each and every word he speaks pains him as his chest rises and falls and the air comes out scorching hot from his flaring nostrils. “Hurt you.” He cradles the side of her face with his right hand and the gun in the other presses its side against her cheek. There’s no menace in the action, just a husband holding his wife’s face and forgetting about the weapon he’s still clutching on to. “Hurt you.”

He doesn’t see her―his gaze is vacuous and distant―and it’s almost as though he can’t feel her, for the pads of his fingers press harder into the soft flesh of her cheeks.

There are tears on his face and those are the first thing John sees when he rushes into the kitchen from the door that gives on the back yard and the fields beyond, where Anna or William probably found him right after leaving the room. And they’re what stops him in his tracks, ready as he is to lunge himself on his father and push him away from his mother.

“Killed the kids,” he’s saying―Michael―and he sounds pained, more pained than he does at night when the horrors behind his closed eyelids wake him up. “Wanted to rape you.”

Anna is late at covering William’s ears, at shielding him from words whose meaning he doesn’t know, not yet. Snow and rape are still terms in the vocabulary he hasn’t reached yet―and hopefully he never will.

“They wanted to hurt you.”

It’s a blessing that John has managed to hide all the bullets he found in the house and that his father’s gun is not loaded. If it comes down to violence, he knows it won’t end with a bleeding hole in his mother’s chest.

“Dad?”

Michael moves almost as though he’s standing in the fog, fog so thick that both sound and light get distorted into nightmarish visions and sounds.

“Come outside, let Mum go.”

*

Summer ticks by painfully slowly and out here, in the country, the nights are silent. Cicadas are quieter than they ever were and it’s almost as though they know they shouldn’t disturb the warhorse.

Not even when he’s awake.

It’s a foreign feeling, that of being touched by her husband once again, of having him pumping inside her as he keeps himself propped up on his elbows, his hands cradling her face, his eyes focused on a spot right above her head, on the pillow.

It’s not love, it’s barely the shadow of what love used to feel like between the two of them, but it’s not violence, either―Michael came back many things from the war, but not a violent man. It’s the desperate attempt of going back to normalcy, of feeling alive again even when your limbs are cold and your loins feel dry. It’s tasteless and mechanical, but not meaningless.

This is not the best feeling in the world, but it can be, one day. It can be.

It will be again, Y/N knows it, and she’s willing to wait, she’s willing to help if he allows her.

Even now, her hands are soothing on the tense muscles of his back and on the ridgy scars left behind by God knows what kind of horrors. And her lips are warm against the cold sweat layering the skin of his neck, and her words soft―honey-like in his ear as she tries to bring him back home, bring him back where he’s loved and cherished and safe.

It’s silent. Their new lovemaking sessions are silent even when he pants above her, lost in some memory of his, in some feeling of his as he thrusts into her, trying to remember what it used to feel like.

He’s not back yet, Billy said that day in the kitchen, too wise for his own age and sake. But he will be. Don’t worry, Mummy.

She doesn’t worry, not when her son’s words meant the world to her back then―not when they still mean the world to her right now.

There is still hope and this is what she thinks of when Michael lies on his back, skin flustered and sweaty and breath short and ragged, his eyes staring up at a ceiling she doesn’t know if he’s seeing or not. He’s trickling out of her, down her thigh and onto the mattress, but it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care.

She looks at him and she thinks that there’s still hope, that one day they’ll be back in their Birmingham bedroom and he’ll take out those stupidly expensive Parisian earrings from her ears and he’ll unclasp her diamond necklace. And he’ll let it fall to the ground―as carelessly as only he can―as he worships her body with his own.

Her fingertips are butterfly wings on the skin of his abdomen―still tight and soft as ever, maybe just not as full. She traces one of his scars, circles her bellybutton, and then plays for a moment with his happy trail. She stares at it and the only thought in her mind is, Oh, how I wish you still knew what the best feeling in the world is!

He’s ticklish, he’s always been, on his abdomen, behind his knees. He’s not as much now, but his body still tenses under her touch, an involuntary reaction she’s quite sure he’s not even aware of. She doesn’t know whether he felt her around him just a while ago, doesn’t know whether he’s heard her sweet nothings whispered like prayers in his deaf ears.

But when she looks up at him, she finds him looking down at her, brows slightly furrowed in a questioning expression, almost as if he’s wondering When did she get here?

He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t move his hands―his right one from his stomach and the other from the mattress. He doesn’t touch her but his eyes still caress the features of her face, trail down her naked body and then back up. It’s like he’s seeing her for the first time after a long absence, like he’s not just been sheathed inside her for the better part of the last two hours, trying to make himself feel something again.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she says, and her whisper floats up to him and makes his eyes sting. “However long it takes.”

What do you think of this story? Please, let me know in a comment/reblog or through the chat or ask box, it would mean the world to me to know what your reaction to this was!!  💛

Everything:  @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker @gruffle1​

Peaky Blinders:  @whimsylavender​ @thethyri​ @friendleyneighbourhoodvillain @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @medievalfangirl​ @inforapound​ @niamhmaria​

People that might be interested:  @kellydixon01 @sweetvengeancee​ @kind-wolf

[bucksbisexual]

YALL. AFTER 10 DAYS I FINISHED IT AND LET ME TELL YOU ALL THIS: HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT WAS ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I HAVE EVER WATCHED IN MY LIFE. like oh my god so many things happened (and pom still doesn’t have his wallet back HSFKJFSH jkjk) i can’t even make a typical lengthed post about it because it would be leaving out like 3/4ths of the episode,,,, alright let’s begin this because i have So Many Things to say and i have to go to sleep soon SJFJSKFH (also i have to watch the trailer for the gifted graduation AAAAAA)

i’m gonna try the dots list thingy in this one because i know it’s gonna be long and a mess so.. lessgetit !

let’s start with the directors board meeting or whatever that was called,, pang was such a fucking badass holy fuck i admire his bravery but i HATE every single person in that room like..

someone just told you that the director of the school has been treating the students like SHIT and using them as guinea pigs for the gifted kids who are ALSO being used as guinea pigs and you just.. clap? and turn your back against him? holy SHIT did that infuriate me,,,

now thinking about it.. maybe the director mind controlled them to do so since yeah guess fucking WHAT. SURPRISE. THE THEORY WAS TRUE. HE CAN ALSO MIND CONTROL PEOPLE. AND HE’S REALLY FUCKING GOOD AT THAT.

[takes a deep breath] i will Not talk about him because it literally makes me want to commit a crime on a fictional character.

also, the scene before pang goes in the conference room with namtaan literally broke my heart yall...... like,, my heart? nowhere to be seen because its pieces are so small they’re almost invisible.

namtaan crying because she thinks that pang doesn’t trust her or ohm? namtaan saying that pang was lying when he said he cared about those around him? pang having to mind control namtaan to make her stay there and not follow him? yeah that shit really fucking hurted yall.

so in this scene we find out that when pom says the director is always a step in front of you, it’s true! that motherfucker staged it all and made pang’s story look like it was staged or whatever just so he could get more money and continue his reign in that school.............. i literally hate him so much

and he then fucking PUT HIM IN FRONT OF ALL OF THE GIFTED KIDS AND MADE HIM CRY. CRY. MY BABY. HE MADE HIM CRY!!!!!!!!! HE MADE HIM THINK HE WOULD NEVER WIN. EVER. HE ALSO MADE HIM LOOK LIKE A FOOL AND A TRAITOR. I FUCKING HATE HIM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

[takes a deep breath] god okay i need to calm down this man gets me on my fucking nerves.

anyways. this guy does his thing and makes pang feel like he truly lost then mind controls pom (i wanted to yell at pom so badly at that moment but i know it’s not his fault that he’s being brainwashed ugh) and pang who is literally trying to save his own life tells him THE EXACT WORDS CHANON TOLD HIM. AND POM CRIES. MY FUCKING HEART YALL. NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. IT HAS BEEN BROKEN WAY TOO MUCH IT’S BASICALLY NONEXISTENT. I WAS SOBBING.

so from that we go to the start of the second semester (which i had to guess by the 2 because there were no subs for that and i don’t understand thai lol) and pang is still the same exact kid who is best friends with nac, is a whole troublemaker and is in class 4-8 (which makes me wonder how tf they made everyone forget he was a gifted kid....... hmmmmm)

now when they first showed that i thought they were replaying ep1 KJSHFKSF but when the eating scene came on and there were people sitting on the gifted section i was like wait a minute............. hold on....................

then HE CLASHES WITH WAVE.

OH MY GOD.

AND HE ASKS HIM THE SAME EXACT QUESTION HE DID IN EP1.

OH MY FUCKING GOD.

((his expression when he sees him excuse me i will literally cry to sleep look at that he’s-my-friend-but-he-doesn’t-remember-me-so-i-can’t-call-him-by-his-name-or-else-he’ll-be-weirded-out-but-also-i-fucking-miss(ed)-out-asshole face he makes ;;))

AND MY JAW WAS ALREADY DROPPED BUT IT FELL TO THE GROUND WHEN NAMTAAN AND OHM APPEARED BEHIND HIM AND WERE LIKE “C’MON LET’S GO EAT”

AND PANG BEING LIKE huh why do i feel like i don’t remember something AFTER HE LOOKS AT EVERYONE SEATED WITH MR POM. HUH I FUCKING WONDER WHY BRO.

and then. AND THEN. a gifted pin that fell to the ground is taken by pang and as he walked to give it back to wave, nac stops him and thankfully pang keeps it because guess mf WHAT BABY.

THERE’S A MESSAGE ON THE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND UNTIL NIGHT TIME WHEN PANG CAN’T SLEEP HE DOESN’T SEE IT

which makes me think,, for how long did the gifted class wait oh my god sjkfhksfjhsdlghl

AND PANG. FUCKING GENIUS PANG. THE VIDEO HE WAS FILMING ALL THIS TIME???????? YEAH IT WAS FOR HIMSELF. INCASE HE LOST. HOW FUCKING CLEVER IS THIS KID OH MY GOD

I LOVE PANG SO MUCH AS YOU ALL MAY HAVE NOTICED BY NOW.

also the fact that wave once caught him filming himself and just.. kept tabs on it since he seems to know pang just wouldn’t do one plan (you can see how shocked he is by ladda giving him the fake serum which i haven’t talked about but I LOVE LADDA AGAIN EVERYTHING’S GOOD WITH HER I LOVE U QUEEN <3<3<3) and when he, i guess, disappeared from the gifted program and didn’t talk with any of them wave just hacked pang’s computer and watched the video he had made incase it was important or whatever and i’m so glad for wave’s invasion of privacy because oh my god u saved my kiddo who saved his future self by being a smart bitch on the past. an icon.

AND THE LAST SCENE!!!!!!!!!!!! THE DIFFERENCE FROM WHEN PANG ENTERED THE ROOM FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE BEING LIKE “YOU’RE HERE”!!!!!!!!!!! THEY PROBABLY LOST ALL HOPE BUT PANG MADE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE FOUND OUT ABOUT HIMSELF AND ABOUT THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I FELT SO PROUD OF MY SON WATCHING THIS

AND WAVE!!!!!!! “TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH” BITCH SHUT THE FUCK HE JUST REMEMBERED UR EXISTENCE LIKE 2 MINUTES AGO I’LL KICK UR ASS (but with love because i love this dumbass too)

AND PANG’S SMIRK AAAAAAA YES BABY LET’S CHANGE THE FUCKING WORLD TOGETHER LET’S GET RID OF ROYAL FAMILIES AND CORRUPT GOVERNMENTS AND INSTITUTIONS LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

okay okay now comes the sad part that we were all waiting for..

mr pom still doesn’t have his wallet after 11 episodes </3

JKHFJSLFS i am Unable to be serious for one second i will explode if i try to

now that season 1 is done i will proceed to yell into the void that is my room until season 2 starts airing (i will watch the trailer of the gifted graduation after this i promise)

this drama was soooooo good idk if i’ll watch the movie because this drama is so well made and the acting and everything is so good idk how they’d be able to tell half of the story in less than 2 hours,,,, maybe it’s a water boyy situation but backwards idk

either way this drama gets a 10000000000000/10 and a plus for making me forget that i wanted to pee oh my gOD I NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM GOODBYE

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 12]

A/N: Day number 12 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. It’s finally up. Sorry it took so long. I’ve finally uploaded all my entires. Masterpost to follow soon if you guys want one. 

Prompt: Fake dating., kinda

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Living on your own is hard. It’s rushing from one job to another trying to make just enough money to pay your rent and also put food on the table. It’s being stuck in a perpetual state of weariness. And yet it’s — liberating.

Billy drags himself up the steps to his apartment, the effort and exhaustion of today’s work settling deep in his bones. For a moment he wonders what life would be like had he stayed in Hawkins. Had he done as his dad wanted and followed in his footsteps working as a security guard. A “manly” job as Neil had described it then. A job worthy of a Hargrove man.

He wonders if he’d be married by now, to a woman with no backbone. If he’d treat her the way Neil treats Susan — the way he treated his mom.

He wonders and wonders but he will never know for certain because he didn’t stay. He got away. Packed his shit and bolted the moment they placed that diploma in his hands. Everything that’s left of Billy Hargrove in Hawkins, is the memories of those who knew him and a head full of What-ifs. 

That is not a future he will ever know and he is grateful for that. But even so, the California from his childhood, all golden glow and soft touches, is not the one he’s come back to. This California is void of childhood nostalgia and dripping with the unpleasant truth of the real life — a tiny apartment with leaking pipes and the fact that he has to work two jobs to pay the rent for said apartment on time.

Everything’s better than Hawkins though. Everything is better than whatever future he would’ve lived through there.

He walks past the doors of apartments 1B, 2B and 3B. All of them painted the same shade of firetruck red. Paint chipping off of each door just the same. There’s a small Christmas wreath dangling from 2B’s door and a set of multicolored lights taped up around 3B’s windows, reminding him that the holidays are fast approaching.

It’s not a time he’s particularly fond of, never was really, not since he was very little. There’s only so much holiday cheer one can muster up when your parents are always fighting, often getting physical. Then mom left and before Susan came around they didn’t celebrate Christmas at all anymore. Sometimes Billy wonders if the holidays made Neil extra bitter. If it served as a reminder of what should be and what he fucked up — a happy family celebrating together. 

Then Susan and Max moved in and so did Christmas. Only it never felt like Billy was a real part of it. Always on the outside looking in, pushed to the sidelines. Maybe had they showed up earlier things could’ve been different. But by then he was so bitter already, filled with so much fury, it didn’t make a difference anymore.

He passes by 3B, music sounding softly from inside. Even though they are neighbours, Billy only knows the inhabitant of said apartment by the number of their place. It’s an older guy who sometimes gets visits from his grandparents and has a mean little anklebiter for a dog. That’s all he knows. In fact, he doesn’t know a whole lot about any of his neighbours. Back in Hawkins, everyone knew everyone’s business. Whether it was important or not, scandalous or not. People cared and people talked.

Not here. It’s live and let live. It’s fight your own fights, battle your own demons. Nothing more than a “hello” in passing shared between neighbours.

Well all except one. 5B isn’t 5B anymore. 5B is (Y/N) and (Y/N) is — different. She doesn’t give a shit about the anonymity the others seem to be so fond of. (Y/N) is all soft smiles and cheery “hellos” and invitations to movie nights and microwave popcorn. 

(Y/N) is his age, barely 19. She’s a mom too. Billy’s never particularly cared for babies, but even he can admit that Rosie is an adorable little girl. She’s got big bright eyes always taking in everything around her with a sense of wonder than only kids possess. And she always seems happy to see him, always smiling with her one single tooth. Even though he’s never held her or played with her or anything, she seems to like him anyway. And Billy appreciates that even if it comes from a 1 year old.

He’s just about to put the key into his lock, when the door next to him, the door to 5B, swings open. 

(Y/N) looks stressed, exhausted. She always does. Billy thinks it probably comes with being a young single mom who works a full time job. Her hair’s a mess, all over the place, a sweater is hanging loosely off of her shoulder and her eyes look tired. So deeply tired. And yet, when she looks up at him there’s a spark there. She always has a certain warmth about her when she talks to Billy. He thinks it’s one of those special qualities that most mothers seem to possess.

“ Hey you. “ she exclaims with a smile. Rosie who’s propped up on her hip starts to wiggle, flopping her arms up and down in her excitement as she catches sight of Billy.

“ Hey yourself. “ Billy replies “ and hello to you miss Rosie. “ He takes her tiny hand in his. It’s so small he’s almost afraid of breaking it. There’s a trust she puts in him, at her 1 year of age, that makes him feel warm inside. If this tiny innocent girl thinks he’s  good guy, maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 

“ Rough day ? “ (Y/N) asks, her eyes wandering up and down his frame. He wants to tell her that yes, he had a rough day. That work at the auto repair shop was more than slow and that the few surf students he had today were rich assholes who only wanted to learn it for the novelty of it and not for the actual sport itself. He doesn’t say that though, because really she has it way harder. He hears her leave her apartment every morning at 4:30 to drop Rosie off at a babysitter and start her work at the local diner. Then when she comes home she has to do all the chores at home and care for her child. She’s a real trouper. Compared to her life, his does not seem so hard at all. 

So he shrugs, curls bouncing with the motion “ It was alright. Where are you girls off to ? “ 

“ Well, “ she smiles that little smile she does when she’s particularly proud of something. It’s kinda ridiculous, Billy thinks, that he’s so smitten over her he can already differentiate between the different smiles she puts on. 

“ Diner had a pretty big turnup today and I got a pretty big tip. So because miss Rosie here was being extra good today I promised her we’d get some ice cream and go to the beach. “ 

Rosie smiles her big baby smile, a little dribble going down her chin. She’s a real sunshine. He hardly ever hears her cry and when she does, he hears (Y/N) sing to her through the paper thin walls connecting his apartment to hers. And only a moment later the cries turn to whimpers then sighs then vanish all together. But she continues singing. And sometimes that’s the melody guiding him into a good night’s sleep.

“ I’d ask you if you want to join us but you look like all you want right now is some sleep ? “ (Y/N) says, raising her eyebrow in question.

Really, until a few minutes ago that was all he wanted. To go to bed and forget about today and hope that tomorrow will be better. Though now things have shifted. He knows he shouldn’t be getting into this. He knows getting attached is wrong. She has her own mess to deal with and adding an emotionally scarred guy with daddy and mommy issues into the mix is probably the last thing she needs. It’s not like he’s asking anything more of her than a friendship though. This is just two neighbours hanging out. Having ice cream. Taking a stroll on the beach.

That’s all it is. Even if she makes his heart do weird fluttery things in his chest. Even if she’s all he dreams about when he falls asleep to her singing. Even if he wonders what her lips taste like.

It’s just friends.

“ You know what ? That sounds real good. “ 

And then she smiles again and he wonders if this is what every friendship feels like.

The setting sun casts the beach in hues of golds and pinks and reds. (Y/N) and Billy sit side by side in the still warm sand. Rosie, ice cream smeared around her lips, leans her head against her mother’s shoulder, eyes closed from the long day she’s had. 

“ She out ? “ Billy asks, letting his eyes linger on the sight of (Y/N) and Rosie cuddling as the setting sun illuminated them in a golden glow. 

“ Like a light. “ she replies then lets her words being followed by a deep sigh. One that’s heavy with meaning. It seems that now that her daughter is asleep, she really lets herself feel the exhaustion of the day that’s been weighing on her shoulders until now.

“ You alright ? “ Billy asks. Growing up, Billy was always alone with his feelings. Whatever he was going through, he was going through it all by himself. When he left Hawkins, he made a promise to himself. To be better. To do better. And part of that, is showing people he cares about that he cares. That he’s there. Even if he can’t do anything other than listen. 

“ I uh — not not really. I don’t wanna annoy you with my stupid problems though. You got enough on your plate as it is. “ 

“ Ah, lay it on me. I’m big boy I can take it. “ 

“ Are you now ? “ 

“ Mmmhh. And I’m sure your problems aren’t stupid. “ 

(Y/N) lets out another sigh, shifts little Rosie closer to her chest and places a kiss on her head. Billy can almost see the thoughts running through her head, trying to assemble themselves in a way that makes sense. 

“ So usually at Christmas I go and see my mom but this year she has decided to come visit us. “ 

“ You and your mom don’t have a good relationship ? “ Billy wonders, knowing he’s not seen anyone that could potentially be (Y/N) mother come or go anytime since he’s moved into his apartment.

“ I mean, she’s my mom and I love her she’s just — a bit judgemental. I know it comes from a good place and that she just wants the best for me but the thought of her coming to my place and listing all the things that I’m doing wrong in her eyes is uh — it’s a lot. “ 

It’s baffling to him that anyone, especially her own mother, could find anything wrong with the way (Y/N) navigates her life. To Billy she’s a damn superhero. 

“ What could she possibly have to judge ? You have a stable job, your own place. You raise your kid by yourself and you seem to be doing pretty good at that. What’s there for her not to like ? “ 

(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at him, as if it’s obvious. “ I’m a single mother at 19. That’s a start there. “ 

“ But you’re a good mother. “ 

She shrugs “ I hope I am but it doesn’t matter to my mom. It matters that Rosie was born out of wedlock. It marries that I dumped her dad after he cheated on me. It matters that I am alone and apparently Rosie doesn’t have a strong male parental figure to look up to which, according to my dear mother, will hinder her future development and makes her develop unhealthy relationships with men. “ 

“ Jesus. “ 

“ Yup. That’s my mom for you. I think she kind of resents the fact that I dumped Adam. Think she would’ve wanted me to forgive him everything he did to me and stay with him for the sake of a seemingly unbroken family. “ 

Billy wonders often, if such a thing even exists. A family that’s not broken, one without skeletons, one that smiles and laughs and loves even when nobody's watching. And if it does, he wonders if it’s the people bound together by blood or if the most happy families are those thrown together by circumstance. Those that find each other in the dark.

“ I mean, if she needs a strong male role model you can always knock on my door. I am pretty strong if I dare say so. “ Billy jokes and raises an arm to flex is muscles in mock bragging.

“ I’ll keep it in mind, though I don’t think that’s something my mom wants to hear. You’re not my boyfriend so It doesn’t count in her books. “ 

His heart drops at that thought. And then, just a second later, an idea sparks. Like a firework on the fourth of july it starts with the sizzle of a fuse and then explodes with all the possibilities. It’s a bad idea. He has to remind himself of that. It’s a horrible idea. One that’s only gonna end up in a mess. 

Don’t say it.

Don’t say it.

Don’t —

“ What if I was ?  “

“ Huh ? “ 

“ What if I was your boyfriend. Just for — just for show. Maybe your mom would go a bit easier on you. We could pretend for the time she’s here. “ 

The minutes when she doesn’t reply, just looks at him and considers, seem to drag on like hours and hours and years and decades. And with every second Billy’s hands grow more clammy, his heart more weary, his breath more shallow.

“ You’d do that ? “ 

He lets out breathy laugh. If only she knew what he’d do for them both. “ Sure. “ 

She places a soft kiss on his cheek. He knows how her lips feel now. He wants so badly to know how they taste. But it’s not a good idea. It’s not a good time. It’s — fake, Billy. He has to remind himself that what they are doing is just playing pretend and once Christmas is over and her mom is gone, all they will be is friends. And that’s enough. It needs to be. Having a friend in her and in Rosie, that’s not only enough, that’s plenty. That’s grand.

“ Okay, let’s do it ! We should make a plan though. “ 

“ A plan ? “

“ Yeah like, where we met. How long we’ve been together. You know that kinds stuff. Have our stories match. “ 

“ Alright, when do you wanna do this ? “ 

“ You up for a movie night? “ 

“ Tonight ? “ 

“ Yup. I even have some cold beers in the fridge and microwave popcorn in my cupboard.“ 

“ Well if there’s beer and popcorn — “

“ Great, let's go ! “ 

It’s not the booze and the snacks that draw him in though. It’s her smile. Her enthusiasm. Her.

It’s Christmas day, the lights are twinkling in the window, the tree is set up, there’s a turkey in the oven and (Y/N), well she’s a full on mess. 

Billy is sitting by the dining table, Rosie next to him in her high seat munching away on some spongy baby cookies. Big bright eyes trained on her mother who nervously paces around the living room. 

“ Let’s go through it one last time. We met when you moved in and I asked you to take a look at my broken AC unit. “ 

“ Mmh. “ 

“ Then we hung out whenever something was broken and you fixed it for me. Makes you seem reliable and handy. “

“ I am reliable and uh — pretty good with my hands. “ Billy says and smirks.

(Y/N) raises her brow. 

“ I am ! I work as a mechanic you know. “ 

“ Not what the look was about but sure. So we’ve been properly dating for 4 months now. Rosie loves you, which isn’t even a lie. “ 

Billy’s heart soars at that. Rosie really does seem to adore him. Always smiling and demanding for him to hold her. Billy’s spent quite some time at their place lately, puzzling together a life for him and (Y/N) that would satisfy her mother’s expectation. A life hat makes him wish it could ever become reality. 

“ So we decided Christmas was a good time for her to meet you. “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Jesus Christ, I’m gonna faint. “ (Y/N) groans, fingers nervously combing through her hair. Billy gets up, places a kiss on Rosies head then walks over towards (Y/N).

Gently he takes her by her shoulders and turns her to face him. There’s a fear in her eyes he’s never seen before. A vulnerability almost palpable in the air. She’s exuding anxiety and he knows what it feels like. It’s the constant state he was living in when still in Hawkins. He wishes so badly that he could take it from her. Load it onto himself and rid her of it all. Thought life is no magical fairytale. 

“ (Y/N) calm down. We got this, okay ? “ 

She regards him for a second, eyes drowning in his, as if she’s looking straight into his soul, his heart.

“ You think ? “ 

“ I know! Do you trust me ? “ 

Without hesitation she nods, sending his heart into overdrive. 

“ Good ! Now uh — there’s something else we should figure out. “ 

“ What’s that ? “ 

“ Do we hold hands ? Do we — kiss ? “ 

“ I guess uh — I guess we should, right ? To make is seem real  ? “ 

“ If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “ 

“ Oh no. No we’re friends, right ? “ 

“ Right. “ 

“ So it shouldn’t be awkward, right ? “ 

Wrong. It’s very awkward. Not because he doesn’t wanna kiss her. Exactly the opposite actually.

“ Right. Do you wanna try it right now?  Get the first one over with so we don’t look awkward in front of your mom ?” 

“ That sounds like a good idea. “

It’s not and Billy is well aware of this. Once he finds out what her lips taste like, the ones he wanted to kiss since he first laid eyes on her, he won't be able to forget it. 

But Billy’s never been known for making smart decisions. So he softly pulls her closer by her waist, gently cradles her face in one of his hands and nuzzles his nose against hers.

There’s absolutely nothing awkward about this, in fact, he’s never felt like this ever before. His heart is beating faster, faster, faster. He wants her to take the last step. Give her the power over this. Even if it’s just pretending. Even if it’s just for today. She needs to be in charge of it. This is all for her. Even if it breaks his heart to think about this ending.

It’s hesitant at first, he almost doesn’t feel it until she pushed on a little harder. Her lips are soft and smooth and warm. She tastes like — well (Y/N). There’s no fireworks or butterflies but the true and honest realisation that he is in love with this girl. And that’s the goddamn mess he wanted to avoid.

She kisses him once, twice, three times. To make it realistic, right ? To make it believable. Billy gets absolutely lost in it, in her lips on his, in her hands in his hair — in her. 

That’s until the doorbell rings.

Her mom seems nice enough, reserved sure, but that was expected. She talks a lot, mostly small talk. About Christmas and the weather and how nice California is. She asks about Billy’s family, talks about hers. She tells him stuff about family members (Y/N) has never even mentioned before and yet her mother deems it appropriate to air their dirty laundry to Billy.

She starts a conversation about Rosie, which is the one topic Billy feels confident talking about. Though she’s not his, he’s proud of her. She’s one of the few good things he has in his life right now and talking about her, being granted this little piece of happiness and feeling like he is involved there, part of something, it means more than he will ever be able to express.

Rosie is a real gem as well. Constantly asking to be held, not by her mother or grandmother but by Billy. It’s as if she knows they’re trying to sell something here. Trying to create a vision of something, the image of a happy little family or 3. 

The idea of something Billy never had but so desperately wants. The one thing that always has been missing.

“ Uh, she adores him. Wants to be in his arms all the time.“ (Y/N) tells her mother as she hands her a glass of wine. Rosie is cuddled into Billy’s arms as if she always belonged right there.

“ I can see that, those two are two peas in a pot huh ? “ 

“ Totally. Makes me a bit jealous sometimes, those two “ (Y/N) jokes, a smile gracing her lips. A real one. A radiant one.

“ Is that so ? “ Billy asks. It feels like every boundary they set, every rule they put in place, is suddenly made of watercolor, spreading and smudging and bleeding into one another. The lines are slowly but surely starting to blur in his mind and he needs to remind himself that this is just pretend. They’re friends. This is fake. This is fake. 

“ Sure is, babe “ she winks then returns to the kitchen to get the turkey out of the oven. 

It’s fake, right ?!

The small talk ceases as they enjoy the food. God, not only is she perfect in itself, she’s also an amazing cook. If it is possible, Billy falls even more in love with her. If only this didn’t have to end.

“ So Billy, you and my daughter, huh. Let me tell you when she told me about you I wasn’t sure what to think. “ (Y/N)’s mother starts talking again once the dinner is devoured. She moves her finger along the rim of her wineglass like some cheesy villain from an action flick or a disney movie. 

“ Okay. “ what does one say to something like that.

“ Mom. “ 

“ No, no let me finish. “ 

“ Mom, please. “ The anxiety is back in (Y/N)’s voice and in her eyes. Without thinking about it, Billy grabs her hand underneath the table. To his surprise, she squeezes back, doesn’t pull away. Maybe friends can do things like this without pretending. Maybe just for shared comfort. 

“ I’m not gonna say anything bad, (Y/N). Don’t be silly. I think you two are — good for each other. Good for Rosie. “ 

“ You are ? “ 

“ Yes. Yes I really am.  “ 

She squeezes his hand again. He hopes this one’s a good one, from excitement not anxiety.

“ I just wish you would trust me more. I wish you’d let me into your life. Tell me stuff. Not just when you two met but that romantic stuff that daughters talk to their moms about. Like when you knew you were in love with Billy. All that kind of stuff. “ 

“ I knew I was in love with her the first time I heard her sing. “ 

The word burst out of him like vomit. Like a tidal wave crashing against the shore with wrath and fury. It’s not a lie, in fact, it’s a truth he’s been holding onto for a while now. This might be more of a confession to himself than to anyone else.

(Y/N) looks at him with shock and surprise written all over her face. There’s a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips though it’s hardly noticeable and the confusion in her eyes makes Billy wonder if what he just said was the wrong thing. 

“ I’ve never sang to you, babe. “ 

“ Not to me but to Rosie. I hear you singing to her through the walls. They’re paperthin. I fall asleep to you singing sometimes. “ 

Her eyes. God, her eyes. Everything good in the world is caught in her eyes. In the depth of them. The warmth of them. In the way they look at him as if she sees him. Completely. For all that he is and all that he ever wants to be. 

She’s very good at pretending, he has to admit. It only makes it harder for him to remind himself that none of this is real. It’s all a game of pretend. It’s all fake.

“ You hear me sing to Rosie ? And you like it ? “ 

“ I love it. “ 

She kisses him then and it both mends and breaks his heart simultaneously. 

“ Well I fell in love with Billy the moment he first held Rosie. “ (Y/N) tells this to her mother though her eyes never leave his.

Billy remember the first time he held Rosie, it wasn’t all that long ago. After they had decided on their little game of pretend. (Y/N) had asked him to keep an eye on her while she went to have a shower. So for a while Billy and Rosie just sat on the couch watching some weird kid tv show. That’s until Rosie decided to crawl up on his lap, then pull herself up to wrap her little arms around his neck. 

He was hesitant then, to react, to do anything. Afraid of doing the wrong thing. She’s so small, so fragile. If anything happened to her — if he did one wrong move.

But as she started wobbling he couldn’t but hold onto her. Stop her from falling. Keep her steady. The way she rested in his arms then felt more right than anything in his life had ever felt. She looked up at him with her gorgeous eyes then, and she smiles her one-tooth smile. And it opened his heart in ways he had never known before.

“ You talked to her. You looked at her like she was the world and you told her stuff. Talked to her like you would to someone who understands what you’re talking about. She was hanging onto your every word. I knew I loved you then because you loved her. “ 

It hits him like a lightning flash straight to the heart. What he told Rosie then, was that he’d never held a baby before. That she was the first baby he ever cuddled. That Max had already been a child when they met the first time. He told her about Max and how sorry he was and that he missed her even though he’d never admit that to anyone else. But he knew then that Rosie wouldn’t judge because she didn’t understand. It felt good talking to someone about it even if that someone was a 1 year old.

“ I do “ Billy replies “ love her, I mean. “ 

“ I know. I think she knows too. “ 

He hopes she does. Wherever life takes them, he wants Rosie to know that for as long as they get together, he loved her and he loved her mom.

Later that night, Rosie asleep in her bed and (Y/N)’s mother on her way home, Billy and (Y/N) settle down on her couch.

A silence engulf them that is thick with words unspoken yet it’s not uncomfortable, not really. They both know, right then. They know that whatever game they had been playing wasn’t really a game at all. Maybe all of the pretending wasn’t for (Y/N)’s mother at all. Maybe the pretending was for themselves. Pretending like this was all fake. Like it meant nothing. Like they could ever go back to being friends.

Billy’s head rests on (Y/N) legs as she softly combs her fingers through his golden curls.

“ That went well huh ? “ 

“ I’d say so. “ 

Silence again. Then the clearing of a throat. A sigh.

“ Billy I — “ 

“ I meant it. “ 

“ Huh ? “ 

Billy closes his eyes, not able to look at her as the words assemble themselves on his tongue ready to be spoke. Too long have they been locked in his heart. It’s time he says them with all the truth and none of the pretending.

“ That I fell in love with you when I heard you sing. That I am in love with you. That I love Rosie. “ 

She stops her hand for a second. He can feel her breathing in deeply. Evaluating. Thinking. Wondering.

“ If you don’t feel the same that’s fine. I’m a big boy, we can be just friends and I’ll be fine with that. “ 

The she resumes the combing of her fingers through his hair. Gentle strokes, slight tugs. It feels wonderful. Heavenly.

“ I meant it too, you know. Every single word. “ 

Billy leans his head back to look up at her. They smile, both of them. He thinks this is his favorite of her smiles. The one she puts on when she’s in love. In love with him — holy shit.

Rosie’s small cries shake them out of their romantic bliss before (Y/N) gets up and hurries towards her room. A few moments she returns, the little girl cuddled tightly into her arms.

“ Look who wanted to join us. “ 

As Rosie lifts her head and catches sight of Billy she tiredly stretches her little arms out to him. Billy takes her from (Y/N), cuddling her into his chest while placing kisses on her head.

“ Hey little one. You wanted to hang out with mommy and me, huh ? Wanted to get some love too ? “ 

(Y/N) settles back down in her seat on the couch, hand going back to Billy’s head as Rosie rest softly on his chest. And as (Y/N) stars to quietly sing a song he’s heart through the wall so many times before, Billy thinks that maybe happy families can exist. This one right here, has never been happier. It’s small and puzzled together and they all come with messes that have to be dealt with and obstacles that have to be overcome. But it’s good. It’s so good.

And it’s his. 

[thearvariblues]

The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter Five

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

AKA me desperately trying to catch up my Tumblr with what’s already been posted to AO3. ;) 

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

5 – No Firstborns Needed

Even though the food Geralt had brought him certainly helped, it still took Jaskier a significant amount of time to recover from the hangover. He had to admit it to himself – he wasn’t getting any younger. There used to be times when he would drink all night and be completely alright in the morning…

Nah, that was a lie. His hangovers always used to be hell, but this was worse than ever.

He was mostly alright, though, when his phone rang in the afternoon.

He answered it without even looking at the screen.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“Uhm. Erm. Hi,” a girl’s voice replied. “This is… This is Ciri.”

“Ciri!” Jaskier beamed. “How are you? I was gonna call you, I swear, I wanted to thank you for sharing the video, and also for not telling on me to your dad… Oh, no, I mean, I probably shouldn’t be thanking you for lying to your father...”

“Didn’t lie to him. Just didn’t tell him,” Ciri said.

“That’s not making it any better,” Jaskier murmured. “Anyway! You were calling me for a reason, I guess?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to ask… Well, since you’re definitely staying, because the fans really love you, I… I mean… Would you like to go shopping with me?”

“Shopping?” Jaskier blinked. “Oh, you mean for some clothes to fit my new metal singer image?”

“Yes. I know all the good places. Mom takes me with her all the time. I know where they have the best T-shirts and pants and–”

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to go! Wait… Does your father know about it?”

“Does he have to?”

“Well, I’d like to stay alive, so yes, he kind of does.”

“Right. So I’ll… ask him and then call you back?”

“Perfect,” Jaskier smiled. “And what about Renfri? Is she coming too?”

“She said she’d rather cut off her right hand with a pocket knife.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“That’s definitely a no. Right, I’m gonna go and ask dad. Might take a few minutes, though. He’s working, and when he’s working, it takes him a while to start focusing on anything else.”

“That’ fine. Yeah. Right. See you soon. Well, hear you soon.”

“Bye, Jaskier.”

*

Geralt didn’t mind Ciri going with Jaskier. He even called Jaskier himself to tell him that. (And also to tell him that Ciri is allowed to buy something, too, within reason, and that he would give her his credit card, in case she wanted something she couldn’t afford to buy with her pocket money… Jaskier couldn’t help but think it was incredibly cute.)

So Jaskier went shopping with Ciri.

Two hours later, he had five large bags of clothes and his credit card was weeping silently in his wallet. Oh, dear, he would have to take some new students. At least two. Maybe even three. He didn’t want to, but he would have to.

Who’d have thought black clothes were so damn expensive?! (Except he absolutely didn’t buy only black clothes, quite the opposite, in fact.)

Right, right. So it might not have been absolutely necessary to buy those black leather pants and that leather jacket… But Jaskier had wanted a real leather jacket for a while, okay?

“So, am I now officially ready to take my place in the band?” he asked Ciri. He’d dropped the bags off at his flat and he and the girl were currently walking to Kaer Morhen’s rehearsal. Ciri was carrying a little bag with a black-and-purple striped dress that Jaskier wasn’t sure Geralt would approve of, but Jaskier definitely approved. It looked so good on the girl. It was stylish, but not revealing, a perfect dress for a kid her age…

“You’re more than ready,” Ciri said. “You look great.”

Oh, yes, so Jaskier had definitely found the time to change while he was at home. He was now wearing tight black pants, a dark purple T-shirt and a black brocade vest that, he had to admit, did wonders for his figure. His waist looked slimmer, his shoulders broader… Yeah, he looked great as hell.

“All thanks to you, mylady,” he grinned.

“Hush. You chose most of the clothes yourself. You just needed someone who would make you actually buy them. Like the coat.”

Oh, yes, the coat. The coat that was currently spread on his bed. The coat that had already managed to become one of Jaskier’s most prized possessions.

The beautiful, steel blue, double breasted, clearly Victorian era-inspired thing cost more than half of Jaskier’s monthly income, and it was love at first sight. He tried to be be strong, tried to resist, tried to remind himself that he was saving money so he could buy his own flat instead of renting it… But then Ciri saw him drooling at the coat and said: “Oh my God, you have to try it on!”

And so he did. And he was lost.

“It’s not exactly… what a metal singer should wear, is it? I mean, the color is so… light? Too light,” he had tried to protest, stroking the fabric lovingly.

“Don’t be silly. Female singers wear light colors all the time. Even mum did!”

“Mum?”

“Yennefer? Hello?”

“Yeah. Of course. Of course. Way to win the fans’ hearts, by pretending to be her.”

“Nobody’s gonna think you’re her, stupid. Buy it. I bet dad’s gonna love it. It’s one of his favorite colors.”

“I’ve never seen him wear anything but black.”

“I didn’t say his favorite to wear. He just… likes it.”

And it shouldn’t have been the last impulse Jaskier needed to buy the fucking thing, but it kind of was.

“I still think you should have bought the golden jacket, too.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but even the coat was a bit too much. The jacket? I could never afford that.”

That beautiful, gorgeous, amazing golden jacket with V-shaped stripes on the front. Oh, yes, he would kill for that beauty, but he wasn’t ready to eat dry rice for the next two months.

“Too bad. You looked beautiful in it.”

“I know, Ciri, I know,” Jaskier sighed.

They were nearly at the door. Nearly at the rehearsal room. But then Jaskier heard fast footsteps behind them and he (stupid, stupid, stupid!) decided to turn his head.

“Oh, hello,” said a voice Jaskier never wanted to hear again. “If it isn’t the useless wannabe singer! And who’s that? She’s a little too young to be your girlfriend, isn’t she?”

“Who the hell is he?” Ciri muttered.

“Valdo Marx,” Jaskier growled. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hello!” Valdo grinned a crooked grin. “I saw your video. Man, I’ve never seen something so ridiculous. Have you been kicked out, yet? You’d deserve to be kicked out for that shit!”

“Since there was no bitch around who would be horny for my place in the band… Nope, still in, sorry.”

“And what about that terrible song?” Valdo continued, as if Jaskier didn’t say anything. “Toss a coin to your whatever. I’m not surprised Dandelions had to get rid of you! Ugh, appalling.”

“Excuse me?!” Ciri exclaimed and took a step in Valdo’s direction.

“Ciri. No. He’s not worth it,” Jaskier said, stopping her. “Valdo. May I introduce you to Cirilla, Geralt’s daughter and a former fan of Dandelions, now a devoted fan of Kaer Morhen?”

“And a fan of Jaskier,” Ciri added.

“Geralt? As in the singer of Kaer Morhen?” Valdo snorted. “Oh, dear. You really did suck his cock, didn’t you? Since he’s borrowed you his daughter. Has he fucked you yet? You’ve always said he was a moron, I’m sure you’re really desperate for him to fuck you.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide, and this time he took a step towards the man.

“What did you say you bitch?!” he growled.

A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Jaskier turned, kind of expecting to see Geralt there, but no. It was Lambert, a smirk on his lips and murder in his eyes.

“Relax, sweetie,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“And you are?” Valdo asked.

“Lambert. Funny you don’t remember me, because you spent weeks trying to get in my pants when you wanted to sleep your way into Kaer Morhen. I ruined it for you by being so annoyingly and boringly heterosexual. Don’t worry, though, even if I was gay, you’d stand no chance.”

“Burn, baby, burn,” Jaskier smirked.

“Now, Valdo,” Lambert continued, his smirk growing a little wider. “My friend Jaskier here might be ready to cut your throat, but I would never let him.”

“Thank… you?” Valdo blinked.

“And if Geralt heard you were mean to his beloved daughter, well… He’s a calm man, I mean, he tries to be. But I don’t think he would remain calm if he heard. You know what they say, demons run when a good man goes to war.”

“Hey. I understood that reference!” Jaskier blinked.

“Shush. I’m in the middle of threatening here,” Lambert said. “Valdo. Valdo, Valdo, Valdo. Trust me. You wouldn’t like what would happen if Geralt heard about this.”

Valdo visibly paled.

“He… he doesn’t need to know, does he?”

“No, no, of course not,” Lambert nodded. “But then again… There’s still me.”

“You?”

“Me,” Lambert grinned. “My dear Valdo. There’s one thing you need to understand about me. I am not a calm man, I am not a good man, but I am also not someone who would just simply cut your throat. No. If you show your ugly face near our rehearsal room again, I am going to rip off your cock, fuck you with it, and then use it to gag you while I cut you open and remove your organs in alphabetical order. Are we clear?”

Valdo’s face was completely void of blood now. All the guy was able to do was a single short nod.

“Good. I’m glad for that,” Lambert said. “Why are you still here, then?”

With all the dignity he had left (which was, well… none), Valdo Marx turned and power-walked away without another word.

“Wow. That was awesome!” Ciri beamed.

“I had it,” Jaskier growled, looking at Lambert.

“I know. You were absolutely ready to cut his throat. Or… throttle him,” Lambert shrugged. “But Geralt doesn’t like that. He always tells me, use your words first, there’s still time for stabbing later. So I do it. I threaten, and then, if it doesn’t help, I stab.”

“And do you… stab a lot?” Jaskier asked, fearing the answer.

“Nah,” Lambert grinned. “But fist fights and bar brawls, well… Those do tend to happen.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I bet. Everything alright, Ciri?”

“Absolutely,” the girl nodded.

“Now, Jaskier. Saw your video. Did you seriously call me a dick?”

“Well,” Jaskier smirked. “You are kind of a dick.”

“Guilty as charged,” Lambert grinned. “Let’s go in. Eskel hates it when we’re late.”

*

They weren’t late, but someone else was. Twenty minutes late, to be more precise. And that someone was Geralt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said in reply to Eskel’s disapproving glance, closing the door behind him. “I was working, forgot time existed.”

“So… as usual?” Renfri smirked.

“Hush, Renfri,” Geralt glared. “It only happens once a month.”

“More like once a week,” Renfri replied.

“Thrice,” Ciri said.

“Did I ask for your opinions?” Geralt growled.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Jaskier peeped, raising his hand. “I don’t wanna sound like an idiot, really, but… What is it that you do? I mean… your job?”

“Oh, dad’s a blacksmith, and a jeweler!” Ciri announced. “He makes those cool iron monsters and wrought iron fences and amazing rings and necklaces and earrings. Look, he made me this!”

She showed Jaskier her necklace – a beautiful swallow made of silver.

“It’s lovely,” Jaskier smiled. “Wow. Really… Wow. Geralt, what do you want for making a cool necklace for me, too? I’m kind of broke now, I have to admit, but I could offer you my firstborn, if you wanted.”

“I’m kind of glad you asked,” Geralt said. “Because that’s precisely the work I got so lost in.”

“Excuse me?”

Geralt reached into his jacket pocket and took out a pendant on a silver chain.

“I made this pendant for every member of the band. A common symbol, you might call it. A white wolf. Well, a silver wolf, really.”

“Like in the logo of Kaer Morhen? Seriously?” Jaskier blinked.

“Seriously,” Geralt smiled. “And this one is yours.”

“Mine?!”

“You are the member of the band, aren’t you?” Geralt said, raising his eyebrow. “Consider this a welcome gift. No firstborns needed.”

Jaskier raised his hand to gently touch the pendant.

“You’re kidding, right? You gotta be kidding me. How many hours did you spend making that?!”

“Not as many as you probably think,” Geralt chuckled. “I mean it. Take it. It’s yours.”

“I… Thanks, Geralt,” Jaskier beamed and took the necklace from Geralt’s hand. “It’s beautiful. But now I’m realizing… Cirilla!”

“Wow. You sounded just like dad,” the girl said. “And yeah. I knew. That’s why I wouldn’t let you buy any kind of necklace. Sorry?”

“You should be ashamed for lying to me like that,” Jaskier smirked, fastening the necklace around his neck. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous as always,” Renfri smiled. “Welcome to the band, Jaskier. Officially.”

Eskel cleared his throat.

“Yeah, welcome. There are a few rules you need to know about before you start. Rule number one – if we say the rehearsal is starting at… let’s say seven...”

“And here we go,” Lambert smirked. “Relax, Eskel, we’ll begin in a minute. Jaskier! Have you, by chance, managed to finish that stupidly catchy song that’s been stuck in my head for… five hours now?”

“Toss A Coin?” Jaskier beamed. “Well, I have, actually! Turns out horrible hangovers are surprisingly inspirational. Would you like to hear?”

“Oh, yes!” Ciri said.

“Sure thing,” Renfri nodded. “Hey! We could even squeeze it into the setlist for the next gig! Try it out. See how people like it!”

“You think Geralt will be able to learn a song in a week?” Lambert smirked. “Ouch! That really hurt, Geralt!”

“I hope it did,” Geralt growled.

“You realize that you’re expecting me to learn several songs during the very same week?” Jaskier asked.

“Yeah, but you’re… clever,” Lambert smirked. “Ouch! Eskel, tell Geralt to stop hitting me!”

Eskel raised his drumstick.

“If you don’t stop talking so we can start, I’m gonna help him!”

“I feel very unloved right now,” Lambert muttered.

“You are very unloved right now, I think,” Renfri chuckled.

“Play us the song, Jask,” Geralt said. “Quick. I think Eskel is about to have a heart attack. Ow. Fuck you, Eskel, I’m on your side!”

“Shut up, then,” Eskel growled. “Jaskier. Take your guitar and fucking play.”

“You know, nobody ever told me playing in a metal band was so risky,” Jaskier said. “If I knew… No, no, no, don’t hit the poor bard! I’m playing, see? See? Now, how did it… Oh, yes. When a humble bard…”

“So unrealistic,” Lambert whispered, and Geralt chuckled.

“Poetic license,” he muttered.

Jaskier winked and kept on singing.

Oh, how he already loved this band of idiots.

*

Late that night, already in bed, Jaskier opened his Instagram. He knew he probably shouldn’t. Blue light and all that jazz, right? But he was used to browsing his social media before going to sleep, and hey, he never had any trouble sleeping afterwards. So he opened it, only to find out that he had been tagged in a pic… by Renfri?

He looked at the pic. And blinked. And blinked again.

He hadn’t noticed her even taking the photo, but she must have, somehow.

It was of him and Geralt, face to face, both holding their microphones and apparently singing, eyes closed, faces intense with concentration. It must have been in the second half of the rehearsal, because Geralt had already taken off his jacket. He was only in his absolutely inappropriate tight black T-shirt, and it took all of Jaskier’s willpower not to look at those muscular arms. He scrolled to the caption.

Because it seems that everybody wants to see those two morons on a pic together, I give you: the mighty White Wolf and @jaskierthebard working on Toss a Coin To Your Witcher. And let me tell you – they don’t just look good together, they also sound AMAZING. I can’t wait to play this song live!

#kaermorhen #workinghard #rehearsing #thebardandthewolf

Jaskier rolled his eyes.

The Bard and the Wolf? Seriously?

Yeah, that was never going to catch on…

Continue with Chapter Six