#i've been trying to make flags that are a bit easier on the eyes so i wanted to try to make this one nicer before making anything new

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Three) (18+) / Part One | Part Two

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 6.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Dinner is a tense affair, but by the end of it it feels less like walking on eggshells and more like walking around hard boiled eggs on the floor. There won’t be a goopy mess if you step wrong, but no one wants a squashed egg.

You and Jake seem to be getting on as friends, as long as you ignore all of the blatantly romantic elements of your current situation. You’re unfortunately subjected to a man beside you fingering his roommate beneath the table cloth, and you’re glad that Jake also agrees that despite being on a sex boat, that kind of thing is better done in private.

“Unless, of course, everyone’s into that,” He shoots you another one of his patented winks, and you delight in reaching across the table to steal the cherry off of his black forest cake.

“Hey! Oh, whatever,” He scoffs at your triumphant grin, reaching for his glass of wine. There’s not much left in the bottle; he’s a heavy pour and you didn’t bother counting his glasses- you just know he’s had more than one. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of pink, and you plan on snapping as many pictures as you can as soon as you can get him hazy enough to let you. 

“Here, Hangman,” You feign kindness, taking hold of the bottle and trying to line the neck up with the rim of his glass despite him pulling away, “There’s only a little bit left, finish it off so you don’t waste your money.”

“No, ‘can’t.” He insists, gulping the rest of what’s in his glass in a manner rather contradictory to his words, “Gotta sober up again if we’re going out tonight.”

“I’m going out tonight,” You remind him firmly, finding woozy, pliant Jake much easier to talk to than sharp-as-a-tack Hangman, “You were all set to head to bed earlier; I thought you were some sort of kissing fiend on wine.”

“That’s why I’m soberin’ up, darlin’.” Jake drawls, and though he’s blinking slower than normal, his tone indicates that you’re the stupid one.

“Can’t be much of a security guard if my eyes are goin’ all dizzy,” He says, his tongue lazing into a southern twang that’s sharper when he’s oiled up with booze.

“Security guard?” You echo incredulously, “Hangman, what possessed you to think I’d need a security guard? I’m in the Navy, we both know how to aim between the eyes.”

“No, you know how to aim between the legs,” Jake licks the bitter wine residue from his lips, most likely tasting a sweet tinge of chocolate there, too, “I just don’t feel right leavin’ you with that Daniel guy.”

“He’s nice.” You speak with a tight clench to your teeth, and though you have to separate them to fit your dessert fork into your mouth, they still feel tense. You supplement the need to snap at him by grinding the pastry dough on your tongue into shreds with your molars. Perhaps you’re brutalizing your pie instead of enjoying it, but you’re not in much of a state to enjoy anything right now, except maybe liquor.

“If you’re not gonna drink this, I will,” You secede, waving the bottle at him, “If I’ve gotta spend the night with you I don’t wanna remember it.”

“Finally,” He scoffs, reaching now for his water glass where it’s sweating on the table cloth. His cold, calculating smooth-talk has been reduced to a petulant fit, “Only reason I bought the damn wine was for you, ‘then you had to make a big fuss about it, ‘n all of a sudden you’re suckin’ it down just ‘cause I’m gonna crash your little date later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very unfair, Hangman,” You drawl, the only thing stopping you from drinking straight from the bottle being the elegant setting around you, “I’m unreasonable and I think you should ask someone to switch roommates because you can’t stand me.”

“Oh, nice try,” He levels you with a glare, water beading at the corners of his lips as his hand trembles slightly around the glass, “That’s that reverse psychology bullshit. Nah, I can handle you. You jus’ need a good kiss, that’s all.”

Annoyance prickles in your chest; he’d been shaming you for kissing earlier, now he’s prescribing it?

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Mhm.” He nods, his eyes slipping shut as he braces his hand against his forehead, elbow on the table to support his weight. He looks pitiful- like he’d worked 14 hours and not like a man on vacation. Perhaps the water is working, loosening the effects of the sweet wine and leaving him drained in its wake.

“It would calm you down, I think.” He mumbles, somewhere hazy between sleep and wake, “Jus’ gotta arm wrestle Damien for it.”

“Daniel.”

“Whatever.”

--

Jake has mostly sobered up by the time that you’re all four bathed in multicolored strobe lighting one deck down from the restaurant. He’s sticking to strictly water now which is bringing his awareness back, but he has to take trips to the bathroom every ten minutes. You don’t mind- you appreciate having the time alone with Daniel.

“So,” He hums, hands framing your waist and chest pressed to your own, “He’s a little protective, isn’t he? You guys have a thing going on?”

“No thing.” You snap, “There’s no thing going on between us.”

“He acts like there is,” Daniel muses, and it’s somewhere between disappointed and resentful. But his hands never stray from your skin, so you hope it’s not directed at you.

“He just- he likes to be the best in everything,” You explain, the words escaping in a sigh, “You should see him in the cockpit, he’s insufferable. ‘Always has to win. I think that’s all it is, Daniel. And- for him to win, I’d have to lose. So I think he’s trying to bully you away from me, then he can boast about how I’m lonely and he’s not. He does it all the time back home.”

Daniel’s face curves into a frown, “He seems like a douche. ‘Like the kinda guy you should stay away from.”

“Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from him,” You scoff, tucking your nose against Daniel’s chest while the music lulls into a more heartfelt melody, “But for the next seven days we’re stuck on a boat together.”

“At least Danica likes him. Maybe we can unofficially swap.” Daniel nods towards his roommate, who’s now offering Jake a beer where he’s just exited the restroom. 

You watch as he grins charmingly- the same one he’d leveled at you during dinner only an hour before, “No thanks, darlin’. I’ve gotta keep an eye on that one over there.”

The pair glance at you when Jake gestures, and you realize they’ve caught you staring when you hadn’t even realized you were doing it yourself. You press your face back against Daniel’s chest, a strange breed of embarrassment heating your cheeks. 

“You can drink,” You call to Jake, agonizing as you’d rather keep your voice to a low murmur against Daniel’s ear, “I don’t need to be babysat.”

At that exact moment the four shots you’d done of something they’d promised you was mild all flood to your ankle and weaken it so that it gives out under your weight. You stumble, your foot bending awkwardly as you shriek, gravity trying its best to drag you down to the scuffed floor.

Daniel’s eyes widen but he works quickly, and his strong arms brace against your back as he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. He glances over your shoulder at Jake who’d lunged forwards to catch you, and there’s a tightness in his jaw, a hardness in his eyes as he straightens up that spells irritation close to bursting. Daniel smirks at him.

“What were you saying?,” Daniel chuckles, letting you ease your hands off of him where you’d gripped tight to his biceps, “I’d make a ‘falling for me’ joke but it’d be so bad I’d throw myself overboard afterwards.”

“Sorry,” You bemoan the surely stinging handprints on Daniel’s toned biceps, “I didn’t mean to- aah,” You hiss, gingerly raising your tweaked ankle, “I rolled it or something, I’ll- ooh, I’ll be back. Just gonna ask the bartender for some ice.”

Both men step forwards to brace your weight against theirs- even Danica offers her hand, but you wave them off with a sheepish laugh.

“I’m okay, guys, really. I can walk, it just-” You wince, a twinge of pain shooting through your ankle, “It just hurts a bit. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom for a minute with the ice on it, ‘see what that does.”

Daniel looks hesitant to leave you, but he lets you hobble to the counter. The bartender looks suspicious of your request at first, like you’re somehow cheating him out of profit by asking for six ice cubes in a plastic bag. But one glance down at your elevated ankle gets him moving, and he wraps it once in a paper towel before passing it over the counter.

The bathroom counter is not an ideal resting spot, but it does give you a chance to glance at your makeup in the mirror. It’s mostly in-tact, but you note that your lipstick has faded some, partially from pressing it to the rim of your glass and partially from pressing it to Daniel’s own mouth. You’d shared a few more dizzying kisses on the dance floor, and they make your rolled ankle worth it a thousand times over.

The ice bleeds condensation through the towel after only a few minutes, and you turn the package so the dry side is now pressed to your sore limb. You hear footsteps and you ensure that your dress is draped over your lap- sure it’s a sex cruise but no one wants to see you on display, and glance at the doorway to see who’d come in through the hall.

It’s Jake.

In the women’s bathroom.

“Hey!” You scoff, glaring at him while your fingers numb with cold, “Get out of here, you creep. This is the women’s bathroom.”

“I know. But you’re treating it like a hospital, so I’m gonna do the same. How’s your ankle?” He glances towards your foot braced on the counter, “Dalton can’t be that good of a dancer if he’s steppin’ on your feet the whole time.”

“First off, it’s Daniel. Second, I didn’t roll my ankle because he stepped on me, I rolled it because I’m drunk.”

A satisfied smile flits over Jake’s face, “So you do need babysitting, then?”

You neglect to respond verbally in favor of trying to melt his face off with your glare. It doesn’t work- in fact, his own expression only gets brighter.

“So, whaddya say we just drop right down on the tile and go for it?” He offers, gesturing towards the dingy bathroom floor, “Or- this counter might work,” He leans forwards to brace his biceps against it, shaking to no avail as the fixture stays tight.

“Oh, yes, that would be very comfortable,” You gripe.

“It could be.”

“Get out, Hangman.” You grimace, shifting the ice against your ankle, “I just wanna freeze this pain away and get back out there, and I think your presence is somehow making it hurt worse.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special,” He cocks his head slightly, leaning against the counter and glancing at your ankle, “Is it throbbing?”

“No. Just stings a bit.” You grumble, keeping your eyes off of his dress shirt and the way he’s rolled the sleeves up. It’s a pretty color, nice against his tan skin.

“Right.” He murmurs, voice similarly soft as the music leaks in muffled through the walls.

“You can go,” You nod towards the door, “I think Danica really likes you. Which is weird, because she’s heard you open your big fat mouth, and that’s usually what sends ‘em running.”

Jake rolls his eyes in an excellent impression of Penny’s daughter Amelia now that she’s in the throes of teenagedom. 

“Anyways, you should go and drink with her. Have fun,” You offer, hesitantly kind to him, “You might as well get lucky even if you got stuck with a prudish roommate.”

“You’re not prudish,” He narrows his eyes at you, “You and Devon dry-humped in an elevator.”

“Daniel!”

“You didn’t even deny it,” Jake mock-gasps, “I bet the two of you were rubbin’ up on each other-”

“Get out.”

“-from decks 1-8. Hey, what’s that Ed Sheeran line that Rooster likes? Up and comin’ like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator?”

“Get out!”

Your ice pack doubles as an excellent projectile, but Jake was raised with older sisters, and is fantastic at dodging things flying towards his face.

He catches it with that infuriating grin he’s always shooting at you, and he tosses it into the trash while extending his other hand as an offering towards you.

“C’mon, Roger Clemens, let’s get back out there, shall we? Or are you too drunk to stand?”

“I can stand,” You insist, ignoring his hand and sliding off of the counter onto your feet, though one protests the weight with a sharp jolt of pain up your leg.

“Sure,” He scoffs, once more rolling his eyes skyward as he grabs hold of your bicep anyways, hoisting part of your weight onto him, “Let’s just get outta here before a gaggle of you ladies decide they’re all going to the bathroom together. Why do you do that, by the way?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because men have a habit of wandering in despite the clear sign on the door that says Women’s.” You glare up at him, but you let him help you hobble out of the bathroom.

“I go where I’m needed. You needed a medic,” He shrugs, angling you towards one of the barstools so that you can rest your weight again, “And you needed someone to tell you to stay away from that David guy.”

You snap your eyes shut instead of correcting Jake yet again, instead focusing on why he’s being particularly dickish this evening.

“Why do you care so much? He’s a nice man, why are you so angry that we’re connecting?”

“Because I don’t think he’s a nice man,” Jake’s face scrunches in a frown packed with judgment, “He defiled you in an elevator and he’s leaving his roommate high and dry.”

“No he’s not,” You scoff, “They’re dancing right now!” 

You jab a finger towards the pair now pressed together on the dance floor, ignoring the newly familiar tinge of jealousy in your chest when you see Daniel’s hands pressed to Danica’s waist just the same as they’d been to yours. It’s fine. You’re on a sex cruise; he signed a lot of contracts but monogamy wasn’t one of them.

“That’s worse,” Jake sneers, his hand sliding from your bicep to your back to steady you on the barstool, “He’s not loyal to either of you.”

“I don’t need his loyalty.”

“That’s not right. You should want loyalty. You don’t see me chatting up everyone’s roommates, do you?”

“You’re certainly friendly with Danica! And I don’t need your loyalty either, Jake!” You gush, voice raising, “Loyalty is for relationships! This is sex! Heated, messy, sloppy, dirty sex!”

Jake’s eyes dim of their usual fire, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his grin stays plastered in place. Then, slowly, bitterly, it fades, and he looks away towards a water ring on the surface of the bar, “Sex ain’t all there is in life. One day you’ll want loyalty.”

Your indignant laugh comes immediately, “Hangman, I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on loyalty. You’ve cycled through every tourist that makes the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to the naval base. You’re not even loyal to your friends, why do you think we call you Hangman?”

The fire in his eyes is back, but it’s hot and not warm. Low blow. Maybe if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have said it.

His jaw is tight when it opens for him to spit, “That’s ‘cause I ain’t got a girl I wanna be loyal to. And- and that Hangman shit is old, I don’t leave you hanging anymore. Not in the air, and not on the ground. Not after-”

Neither of you say it, but you both remember the sheer terror you’d felt when Bradley had gone down trying to save Maverick. How Jake had begged to be launched in a search and rescue, how they’d held him back until they were certain the two pilots were already on their way back. Like they didn’t want to risk one man to save two. Like Jake’s pleading wasn’t proof enough that they were more than just soldiers, more than just numbers, that they were people, too. You owe him that; he’d shown loyalty there, even if his pride had been hurt. Perhaps that proves his ego doesn’t win out, even if its what he likes to display.

“Fine.” You murmur, biting your cheek, “But- but just stay out of this, okay? If I wanna fool around with someone then I can, doesn’t matter if he won’t be here after this cruise is over.”

Jake’s face sours impossibly further, “Fine.”

He storms off through the crowd, and there’s a handprint-shaped cold spot on your back. 

You scoff at his dramatic display, but before the bartender serves you the drink you order in a huff, Daniel comes weaving towards you through the crowd.

“He asked to swap,” Daniel informs you, “And he called you my ‘side chick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a bitter sip of your drink, eyes widening at the strength, “Oh, god, if I can even aim.”

“Aim?” Daniel asks, slight trepidation clouding his features, “You gonna punch him?”

“Nah, I’ll shoot him down in a fighter jet.”

It draws a laugh out of Daniel, and you enjoy the rich, warm sound. It sounds a little how your drink tastes, but it’s not as sour.

It’s just as intoxicating, though, and you let it make you dizzy as he takes your hands and spins you on the barstool to the rhythm of the music, dancing with you as much as you’re capable of.

--

“I think she’s one drink away from falling off of that stool,” Danica muses, and Jake’s eyes snap to her own where her head reaches his shoulder.

“What? Y/N?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at her for the last six songs.”

“Sorry.” Jake grimaces, “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“It’s fine.” She pats his chest and god, it’s pathetic and oozing with pity, “She was giving you a hard time earlier?”

“She’s always giving me a hard time. Can’t just let me help her, she’s gotta make a big stink of everything.”

“Mm-hm,” She nods along, and Hangman begins wondering if this is how people feel when they speak to him. Patronized and condescended.

“Well, I don’t think she’s capable of giving you a hard time anymore,” She narrows in on the way you’re slumped against Daniel’s shoulder, face stretched into a permanent lazy grin, “You wanna head out for the night and get her to bed before she passes out?”

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, but his eyes never leave your slouched frame, “I’m having a nice time dancing with you, doll.”

“No you’re not.”

He turns to her, brows furrowed, “What?”

“No,” She repeats, but there’s mirth in her voice instead of reprimand, “You’re not. You’re worried about her. You two are friends?”

“Something like that.” Jake hums, but pointedly never denies her accusations, “She’s just- pardon me for speaking ill of your roommate, Danica, but I don’t want him messing around with her.”

“Mm. So you’re her father?”

“No,” Jake’s face wrinkles, and he tugs his arm an inch tighter around her waist, “We’re friends like you said. Sort of. The kind of friends that are always at each other’s throats, y’know the type.”

“Oh. So fuckbuddies.”

“No,” Jake laughs, and it eases out some of the worrisome creases in his face, puts new, happier ones in his skin instead, “See, I suggested that this cruise partnership was a work’a fate, that it’d give us a chance to blow off some of our steam, but she won’t have it. So now I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“Ooh, so you’re not even in the friendzone,” Danica grimaces, a dry smile on her face, “Well, Jake, for what it’s worth, I think she’s lucky to have you as a roommate. And as whatever sort of friend you are to her.”

Jake nods tersely, head still turned to watch the way Daniel keeps you upright with an arm around your waist. 

“She said-” Jake starts, then remembers he’s talking to a woman he barely knows, then remembers he’s got nothing to lose, “She said all this shit earlier about me not being loyal. Reliable, trustworthy, all that. And- I wasn’t, okay? I was a… not so great person. For longer than I’d like to admit. But,” His throat feels tight now, and it tenses in his jaw as Danica listens, “I’m not like that anymore. And I haven’t been for long enough for her to notice. If she’s lookin’, that is. Which- I guess she’s not. But I just thought maybe- I thought maybe she’d see it and we could be different. I still wanna tease her, of course. But at dinner she told me she thought I was just trying to ruin this for her. And I’m not,” His eyes gleam, not with tears but with something close and soulful as he blinks into Danica’s eyes, “I’m trying to make it better. I’m trying to make it the week of her life. The week of both of our lives. I’m just…” He hesitates, weighing the word on his tongue, “I’m afraid she won’t let me.”

Danica squeezes gently at his bicep through his dress shirt, and briefly mourns that the beefiest man on this ship is 100%, prime-time in love with you. She’d have loved to spend a night with him, but she kisses her chances goodbye as she smiles sweetly at Jake.

“You’re a good friend. You’re a very good friend, Jake. You’re trying to be very good at being much more than a friend. But she’s not seeing it, right?”

Jake nods, and she mimics the action, “So you need to show her. Show, not tell. Even if she’s resistant, even if she tries to gripe at you, it’s because she’s still seeing the man you used to be. And hey, maybe she won’t want the man you’ve become, even if you worked hard on becoming him. But there’s no reason to throw up your hands now, is there? Let her see the real you, then she’ll decide whether she’s willing to have you. Be patient. It’s all up to her in the end, so be this new-and-improved version of yourself, and she’ll take care of the rest. Okay? Remember, you’re a good friend.”

Jake nods at her reassuring words, steeling himself for a week of patience that he doesn’t typically possess.

Danica continues through the silence, “Aaand a good friend would make sure she gets back to her cabin before she blows chunks all over her hookup’s shoes, right?”

“Oh.” Jake’s eyes widen momentarily as his head jerks towards you - he’s only ever seen you upchuck twice before, both times after rowdy nights out with the group, but he is noticing a familiar pudge to your cheeks that can’t spell anything good. He’s tempted to let you ralph all over Daniel, teach you a lesson about mouthing off to people that are only trying to be nice- but that’s what pre-dagger squad Hangman would have thought. That’s old Hangman, the aviator who’d have sold his wingman out for fame and glory. Now he’s an entirely different Hangman, the one with a rope around his neck that tightens each time Daniel squeezes the pudge of your hip.

“Thanks, Danica,” He breaks away from her embrace with a kind, chaste smile, none of his usual toothy sleaze, “Hey, uh- enjoy your night with Daniel. Careful, though: I’ve heard he does terrible things in elevators.”

“I’ll keep it in mind!” She calls, her voice a melodious laugh as she waves goodbye at him, “Straight to bed, Jake! And leave water on the nightstand!”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” He’s happy to let his southern drawl take over, nodding at her with a wink before spinning around to face you.

Daniel glances up at him, and his attempt at keeping a neutral expression over his face is valiant, but some of the wariness seeps through in the way that his arm tightens almost imperceptibly around your shoulders. Your eyes are desperately trying to stay open but they still lock onto Jake no problem, and you raise both of your eyebrows in what Jake is certain was an attempt to only raise one.

“Yes, Hangman?” You ask, your voice thick with booze, “You need somethin’?”

“You look like you’re about to need a trashcan,” Jake tentatively reaches for you, “C’mon, it’s gettin’ late. We should head back to the cabin for the night.”

Jake expects another jab about the nature of the cruise, but what he gets is drunken compliance, an easy reach of your hand for his own and a mumbled, ‘kay’.

“Hold on,” Daniel catches your waist, keeping you suspended between them, “You sure you can get her back okay?”

There’s a sharp tilt to his brow that makes Jake think Daniel’s not questioning whether he’s strong enough to carry you. The thought both offends and disgusts Jake, and he takes pleasure in swatting Daniel’s arm away from your hips to tug you into his embrace.

“She’s safe with me,” Jake scoffs, “But your roommate’s gettin’ lonely out there, Dallas.”

“It’s Dominic,” You gripe, the stench of liquor hitting Jake full-force now that your face is only inches away from his own, your forehead bumping his jaw.

Daniel hadn’t found Jake’s jab to be very funny, but a smile quirks the corners of his mouth at your slip-up, and he finally lets you go with a pat to the hip.

“You can call me any name you want, Y/N,” He offers, but his eyes pass darkly over Jake’s tense face, “So long as it’s not Jake.”

“No, no, he’s- he’s Jake.” You jab a sharp finger into Jake’s chest and he flinches back slightly, hissing at the contact.

“Good memory, darlin’.” Jake commends you, “Now let’s head for the elevators, m’kay?”

“I love elevators,” You sigh, no doubt remembering the feverish embrace you’d shared in one only hours prior, “Daniel, are you coming too?”

His face turns down in visible pain and he shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go find Danica - she’s probably looking for me.”

“She’s probably found someone else by now,” Jake laughs, haughty and biting, “I wouldn’t wait around for someone if they were hellbent on fooling around with someone else.”

“Really?” Daniel speaks like he’s snapping at Jake, gnashing and snarling like a fighting dog, “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

The weight of your head slumped in the juncture between Jake’s neck and shoulder feels like shackles. 

For a moment the two men stare at each other, and if you weren’t slowly losing consciousness between them, they might have given into their tension-fueled urge to scrap like feisty teens. But you release a soft, tender sigh against Jake’s chest, and he hikes his arm up under your thighs instead.

“‘Gonna lift you, darlin’.” He informs you, waiting only a second before he scoops you into a bridal hold. Your head is quick to loll backwards at a grotesque angle, and before Jake can balance you out, Daniel reaches over to assist.

“Here, honey,” The man croons, nestling your head against Jake’s bicep, and he watches in abject horror as Daniel leans down to press his lips to your forehead, “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? I’ll find you.”

Jake is desperate to know whether your responding smile is dreamy from the liquor or from the sight of his face, “Mm, okay, g’night.”

“Night,” Daniel murmurs fondly, and Jake is all too happy to drag you away from him. 

“Slow down,” You plead when Jake is ten steps out of the bar and beelining for the elevators, “I’m gonna spew.”

“Not on me, please,” Jake jolts to a stop in the middle of the hallway, noting the rhythmic rocking motion of the boat and cringing, “Can I go for the elevator?”

“Slowly,” You mumble, and evidently you hadn’t heard his begging by the way you nestle your nose into his chest.

Upon hearing the ding of the elevator your eyes snap open, and you seem horrified despite having heard the word mere seconds before.

“Wait. No elevator.”

“What?”

“No elevator. Please, I can’t- ugh,” You groan, leaning away from Jake to hang your face over the ground beside him, “I can’t take the pressure of moving up in an enclosed space.”

“Well we’re one floor away from our room, how do you expect me to get you up there?” Jake gripes.

Approximately thirty seconds later he’s hauling you up a flight of agonizingly shallow stairs.

“This is bullshit.” Jake scoffs, “Should’ve had Daniel do this.”

“Dean,” You correct him, “His name is Dean.”

“No it’s not!” Jake laughs incredulously, rounding the corner to the second half of the staircase, “See, if you can’t even remember his name, you shouldn’t be foolin’ around with the guy.”

“What’s the name of the last woman you took home, Hangman?” You shoot him a glare with narrowed eyes where you’re still held in his arms, and he stops in his tracks to shoot you a menacing glance of his own while his chest heaves from exertion.

“Touche. That’s why I stopped foolin’ around with her, though. Couldn’t care enough to remember.”

“You never care,” You grumble groggily, and Jake tugs the both of you up the remaining four steps until he’s on your cabin’s level.

Your words are slashing relentlessly at a wound that’s been gaping for longer than Jake can remember. He thinks it's worse when you’re drunk- you’re shitfaced enough to forget your new boytoy’s name, but you still remember how shallow and vapid of a person Jake used to be.

“Right now, I care very deeply that you’ve got your room key with you. Or that you can reach mine; whichever works. You got it on you, darlin’?”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” You lament, “Where’s yours?”

“Uh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder, “Back pocket.”

Alcohol courses through your veins in the same quantity blood does when you reach with no inhibition for Hangman’s ass.

Jake’s eyes widen as he feels your fingers prodding and poking liberally around his dress pants, finally finding the pocket and slipping inside. He stays frozen solid at the door while you root around for his phone, finally pulling it out and squinting to focus on it as you bring it towards your face.

“Room key,” You pull out one of his debit cards out of the sleeve on the back, handing it to him expectantly.

“Uh- no, not exactly,” He strains to keep you suspended- he’s starting to wonder if you’ve got more muscle mass than he does, “The red one in the front, Y/N, that’s the room key. And I don’t have a hand to unlock the door with, so you’ll have to do that yourself.”

You toss his debit card onto the floor like it’s garbage.

“Hey! That’s- oh, just get the key.” He kicks it forwards, keeping it propped against the toe of his shoe while he waits for the door to open.

“Got it,” You drawl, and this time you’re right. You lean forwards without waiting for Hangman to move with you, and he nearly drops you where you’re aiming the keycard for the slot on the lock.

“Jesus, just- stick it in!” Hangman snaps, eyes on his debit card still discarded on the floor, “Let’s hope you never use a strap-on, you’ve got terrible aim.”

“I got it,” You grunt and a green light flashes while the lock clicks open. You manage to jiggle the door handle until the heavy slab of wood swings open, and Hangman is glad you’d remembered to leave a light on before you’d left.

He takes his final steps towards the bed and sets you down on the side he’d left open earlier. You’re too shitfaced to remember that you were vehemently opposed to sleeping in the bed earlier, and he’s glad for it when you sink willingly into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed, lashes resting over your cheeks.

“Hang on, ‘gonna get you some water. You- uh, change while I’m gone.”

He ambles off to the bathroom, and when he hears rustling outside the door he shuts himself inside to give you privacy. He decides to change into his own sleeping clothes, but it’s less of an outfit and more of a strip tease until he’s standing on the cool tile floor in nothing but boxers. He hadn’t planned on wearing much of anything for the entire week, and he definitely hadn’t packed sleeping clothes.

He fills a glass of water and knocks briefly on the inside of the bathroom door, “Hey Y/N, I’m coming out, m’kay?”

There’s no reply.

He assumes you’d shout at him if he tried barging in on you changing- in fact, you had only hours prior. He takes your silence as permission to exit the bathroom, but when he finds you curled up in bed, your dress is still on.

Evidently you hadn’t been changing.

“Y/N,” He groans, reaching out to prod tentatively at your shoulder, “No, don’t do this to me. Wake up, c’mon.”

Your eyes are firmly shut, glued there by booze.

“Shit.”

Jake sets the water on your square nightstand, ankles sturdy despite the rocking motions of the boat. He’s well used to being at sea, and it doesn’t make him unstable as he leans over to inspect your sleeping face. He can see your eyes flitting this way and that, barely covered by the thin skin of your lids, and he marvels at your drunken ability to knock out like you’ve been concussed mere minutes after hitting the mattress.

He lifts your arm and when he lets go it falls pathetically over your chest - there’s no waking you.

“Okay,” Jake grimaces, reaching for one of the straps of your dress, “For the record, I don’t wanna be doin’ this.”

“If you were awake you’d be yellin’ at me for breathing towards you,'' Jake rambles, a running dialogue making him feel slightly better about stripping you naked in your sleep, “But if you wake up tomorrow in this deathtrap you’re gonna be pissed, so I’m doin’ what I think is best. I swear it’s not a ploy to stick my hand down your shirt.”

And- speaking of sticking his hand down your shirt, he has to ruck the fabric of your dress up and over your breasts to slide it off of your head, “Aaand, there they are, and they’re out now, and that bra looks really uncomfortable, so I’m gonna-”

Jake slides his hands beneath your back, locating the series of clasps easily. 

“Please don’t kill me,” Jake begs, blinking up at the ceiling as his neck aches with the way he cranes his head upwards, “I’m not lookin’, I swear.”

He peels your pushup bra off of your chest, and the fabric is warm where he tosses it in the vague direction of your suitcase. He wants nothing more than to linger on that, to press his hand to the pad that had just cupped your flesh and let the warmth travel south. But he is a Southern gentleman, and you’re sleeping, and the bra remains discarded in the hallway.

“Right. Now the pajamas,” He continues his stream of consciousness if only to reassure himself that he’s not a creeping perv in the darkness of your cabin, “For both of our sakes, Y/N, I hope you packed better nightwear than I did.”

Upon discovering nothing but lacy chemises neatly folded among your other clothes, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Don’t go gripin’ at me in the morning for sticking you in one of these things. It was your poor packing skills that led us here.”

He plunges a hand into your suitcase and comes out with a red lacy contraption. He feels, to his own incredulity, a blush rising over his cheeks, as if he’s a teenage boy thumbing through a porn mag and not a decorated naval aviator. He drops the red thing, and reaches for something less sinful. What he finds next is a softer pink garment, silky and longer than the red- though he’s sure it’ll only barely cover your ass. All he wants is to cover his own, though, to make sure he won’t be in trouble for cramming you into a sexy getup while you’re passed out drunk, and the pink is looking better than the red for that purpose. Although- Jake has to admit, the pink is sexy in its own right. It’s soft, and smooth, and delicate, and he’s getting uncomfortable down south so he really needs to stop staring at it.

“Pink it is, darlin’.” He hums, “Hope you don’t mind. Maybe when we dock you can find something a little more conservative. Up you go,” He slides a hand beneath your back, his eyes trained dutifully on your forehead and absolutely nothing down below, “Hope y’don’t mind your hair getting a little messy. I think you scruffed it up when you hit that banister earlier, anyways.” Technically, that had been equal parts yours and his fault. He’d been carrying you, so he could have been a little more careful about swinging you this way and that as he’d navigated the ships’ halls, but you kept reaching out to touch things, and you’d collided square with a metal post in your curiosity. He bunches up the chemise and slides it over your head, careful not to scrape the lace over what little of your lip gloss remains. He doesn’t want to add staining your clothes to the list you’ve surely got of all his transgressions against you.

It’s rather hard to dress you blindly, and his hand does accidentally dip between your tits as he tries settling the material against your skin. He jerks it away like it’s burnt, hissing as his eyes widen where they’re staring at a particularly boring ceiling light.

“Accident. It was an accident. I swear.” He vows, hoping against hope that you’ll stay sleeping as he clumsily dresses you.

“Christ,” He yanks the material down your thighs, settling the chemise into place, “‘Knew how easy it was to take one off’a woman, never knew how hard it was to put it on. I think,” He muses, blinking long and hard before peering down carefully at you. You’re fully clothed, “That’s good. Okay. Done.”

The silence in the room is deafening now that he doesn’t need to keep up a stream of dialogue to soothe his fraying nerves, and his footsteps seem to pound against the cabin floor as he rounds the bed to his own side. There’s plenty of room, but he still feels like he’s sinning - crawling into bed beside your sleep-limp, pink satin-swathed form in nothing but his boxers.

With one click of the remote beside his bed the lights turn off, and there’s no sound besides the ship’s motor to distract him from the gentle inhales and exhales of your peaceful breathing. He licks his lips, settles into his typical sleeping position, sniffles briefly, fiddles with his hands, lifts a leg up to stretch his muscles, readjusts his neck on the pillow, clears his throat, wriggles his toes beneath the blankets, itches his nose, and comes to terms with the fact that he’s unable to sleep. Something’s not right, and he thinks little before he turns to his opposite side to see if sleep will meet him there.

It doesn’t, but your face does.

His neck stiffens and he nearly rears his head back when his nose brushes against your own, your warm breath fanning over his face. He snaps his eyes shut and breathes deeply himself, lashes fluttering when he deems himself brave enough to open his eyes again.

You’re there, looking like sleep was made for you the way it lulls your face into peace and erases the wrinkles Jake puts around your nose and mouth. There’s no longer the prominent frown lines that you’re always sporting around him, and your lips are blessedly relaxed, almost pouting with the way your cheek is squished into the pillow instead of disapprovingly downturned in his direction.

The silence suffocates him, rushing into Jake’s ears and clogging them until tv static fills his brain. The only words he can form, the only thing he’s capable of doing is murmuring a gentle, “Goodnight, Y/N,” In a voice far softer than he’s ever aimed towards you before.

Then he turns, rolling back onto a shoulder that aches from carrying your phantom weight, and shuts his eyes for the night.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[froggywritesstuff]

compromise | yandere!j.d

ship/pairing: yan!jd x g/n!willing!reader

request: anon: helloo, could you do a yan jd but with a willing reader? like they really don't give a shit about anything and ignore all the red flags. thank you and have a good day!!

warnings: yandere themes, manipulation, toxic relationships, death threats (both implied and explicit), minor character death, not proofread

A/N: this is like the anti 'I Say No'. ty for requesting this, it was a bit difficult to write as i've never written this kind of concept and i've been going through some major writers block, but i hope you like it, sorry if it doesn't make sense. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

The sound of the phone ringing made you stand up quickly, already knowing who was calling.

"Jesus, Y/N, again? This is like the fifth time he's called." your friend groaned in annoyance. They were never a fan of your boyfriend, especially after he kept interrupting their time to hang out with you.

You sent Parker an apologetic smile, "I know, I'm sorry, he just gets annoyed if I ignore him."

Rushing to answer the phone, you couldn't see Parker's look of concern as you said that.

"JD, you know I'm fine, right?" you said, grinning as you spoke.

"You never know, Y/N. Anything can happen when you invite a stranger into your home."

"Parker's not a stranger, babe. You have nothing to worry about," you were practically pleading with him, though you knew he wouldn't drop the subject easily.

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to worry about you anymore?" he retorted, laughing to hide the harsh tone in his words.

That wasn't what you said at all, but why argue over it? You'd never win.

"Of course you are," you responded sweetly, "But I know Parker's annoyed you're interrupting our sleepover." you said it as a joke, not thinking enough to know JD would take offence.

"Well would Parker rather me do what I have every right to do and talk to you, or wake up with a bullet in their head."

You whipped your head around to face Parker, checking that they weren't close enough to hear before turning back, "The first option." you said, rolling your eyes, feeling a smile tug on your lips. You knew it was bad he made threats like that, especially when you never knew if those threats were just threats, or if he'd follow through with them, but you knew there was no use in fighting him. Over time you had become desensitised to his toxic behaviour. It was just easier to let him try to control your life, especially when you knew he could end it with ease.

"I thought so." you could practically hear his smirk over the phone. The two of you continued talking for a few minutes, much to Parker's disappointment, before JD finally let you hang up. You turned to face Parker, frowning when they left the room. You walked out the door and called out their name, which was followed by Parker responding in a rather annoyed tone, "I'm in the kitchen."

You walked to the kitchen, smiling as you saw Parker, "Sorry that took so long, I know it's annoying, he's just really protective."

Parker took a sip from the glass of water in their hands, "Does he think I'm an axe murderer or something? He calls you non-stop every time we hang out, what's his deal?"

You sighed, thinking carefully about what to say, "He... he just doesn't trust a lot of people around me."

Parker shook their head in disbelief, "I've known you for years, Y/N. Longer than he's known you." You were grateful for that fact. If JD had met you before Parker, you would've never been friends. He drove away anyone who tried to get close to you. You let JD do a lot of things, but you never let him drive Parker away. Of course, you had to beg him not to hurt them.

"I know, he just..." you trailed off. You genuinely didn't know how to defend him.

Parker sighed, "Y/N, I'm happy you have a boyfriend, I think it's great. But you have to understand that JD is not a good boyfriend."

"Yes he is, he's just a lot sometimes."

Parker rolled their eyes, "I don't understand why you're still with him, he's such a dick." noticing your hurt expression, Parker set their glass of water down, and moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "I'm sorry... I know you love him, he just..."

You smiled at them, "Let's just not talk about him tonight." 

As much as you loved Parker, you knew if they continued talking about JD like that, you'd both end up saying something you'd regret.

Like you said, JD wasn't brought up for the rest of the night. Luckily, he decided to stop calling you as well. The rest of the sleepover carried on like normal sleepovers would, you and Parker talking for nearly the entire night, until the sun eventually came up, and in what felt like no time at all, Parker went back home.

You sat in your room, thinking of ways to entertain yourself, when you heard a knock at the window. You jumped in fear, calming yourself when you saw your boyfriend smiling from the other side. You stood up, opening up the window and pulling your boyfriend inside and embracing him into a hug.

"I missed you," he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your head.

You laughed against his chest, "I know Jason."

He pulled away from the hug, kissed your lips, before he spoke, "About last night..." your heart dropped as he pulled out some polaroid pictures from his coat pocket. Whenever he killed someone he always took pictures and showed them to you. And you knew he was more than capable of killing Parker.

"I know you don't want me hurting Parker," you mentally braced for the news, "So I found a compromise."

You stared at him in confusion, "A compromise."

He nodded, grinning wide as he handed you the pictures.

"Is this..." you trailed off, staring up at your boyfriend, lips turning upward into a smile.

"Billy Jameson, Johnson?" 

"Billy Jackson," you finished, "from my english class."

He smiled at your excitement, "He's the dickhead in your class, right?"

You nodded, a part of you was scared that he forgot his reason for killing someone, but there was no use in bringing that up, "Yeah, he fucking sucks." you said, staring at the pictures of Billy's hanging corpse.

"Don't worry, I didn't just knock him out and hang him," he began, "I fucked him up a bit beforehand."

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, "Thank you Jason."

He quickly returned the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, "Anything for you, darling."

buy me a coffee <3

[ozuk-authentic]

Okay 👏 I am a bit late but I had a massive stardew valley session and I've not been able to play for the past week. (If anyone is wondering, Alex is my future hubby (in stardew valley ofc)). Either way, sorry for being late.

Today we are doing the Arospec flag, Acespec flag, Ally flag and the Gender queer flag.

Arospec flag up first.

First impressions, it's giving: going to buy paint with my mum at homebase and getting those paper strips with all the paint shades and colours. But in a good way. I love the green aesthetic where the top is more of a yellowish-green and the bottom a blueish-green as it smoothly transitions between the shades. But again t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉i̵̢̢̡͚̩̞̥͕̜̻̫̩̐̈͘͜️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜️ş̵̛̳̍̃̏͆̏̂̎͌͘͝͝͝͝.

8.5/10

Acespec flag up next.

It's giving Lily from Duolingo; in a good way too. However, I do think that the dark purple at the top in general is a bit out of place from the rest of the colours. However, I 𝘢𝘮 gay and extra, so my favourite colour is purple and I truly am a sucker for all purples so,

7.5/10 (also, this was a suggestion from a reader so, suggest me more to make my job easier)

Ally flag up next.

Honestly, solid flag. I don't know what to say apart from that it (technically) is not j̪̟̮̔ͩư̡͕̭̇s̠҉͍͊ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑ l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉i̵̢̢̡͚̩̞̥͕̜̻̫̩̐̈͘͜️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜️ş̵̛̳̍̃̏͆̏̂̎͌͘͝͝͝͝.

7.75/10

Time for the Gender queer flag.

Again, purple makes my eyes moan, especially that lavender shade. The green on the other side is great too. But one issue I have with the flag is that, if you're familiar with the history of women's rights in England around the early parts on the 1900's, you'd be familiar with the suffragettes. And if you've seen their flag, you'd realize the way that they look so similar. Doing research on the flag, the creator of the Gender queer flag didn't know about the Suffragette flag and that it was only an accident that it looks so similar. While I know that they weren't trying to appropriate the suffragette flag, it would not take too much effort to turn the flag by 90°. Besides that,

8/10

[glassshard]

Blue Eye Samurai ending spoilers>>

I stayed up way too late finishing off the show and I'm glad I did! I've never seen a better written animated series. It's kind of a unicorn. Creator-driven series written for adults that isn't some poor hireling desperately trying to express something meaningful through a corporate IP. No shade on all the earnest animated video game and capeshit out there, but- well yeah. Maybe a little shade. Fanfiction is always easier.

BES also wasn't just an occasionally edgy YA show like ATLA or Korra (or the Spiderverse stuff, sorry) or style over substance like the old MTV series. The creators had an idea, and they sweat blood to make it happen. Kudos to Netflix for letting them do their thing.

That ending though, man. I get wanting to subvert what everyone was expecting. And I trust these writers to know what they're doing. When someone gives you eight hours of badassery, you give them the benefit of the doubt. But it's bad feels not getting the catharsis of the Big Bad's demise at the end. The show does a fantastic job of making you despise Fowler. He's not a grey villain, he's friggin' Satan. And you don't get to see him drown in his own blood after all that struggle! It's rough!

What's even a little more alarming though is the reality of Mizu leaving all the cool characters and hanging relationships she's spent the whole series building up. And why? To go to London?? That's weird! London is gross! I don't like the idea of leaving the rest of the cast behind! I hope the writers have some kind of awesome idea for English shenanigans to make up for losing them. Will the story bounce back to Japan to see what Akemi's doing and how Taigen deals with the rejection? I care at least as much about them as about Mizu. Ringo's probably safe making kitchen knives tho.

Leaving so much unresolved is tough stuff. It'll be years before a second season comes out - and maybe it never will. If that happens, I'm going to be pissed that they structured their story this way. But if it does happen and it's worth the wait, then I admire the bravery.

I just got three criticisms that caught my eye: The Fowler fight was way too similar to the giant fight. What I would have loved to see was Fowler with an arsenal of hidden guns and him and Mizu fighting each other through the burning building as she slowly whittled down his fire power before ultimately savaging him. Any time you pit Mizu hand to hand against anyone with such obviously massive physical strength, you're shattering the illusion. Even if she was a dude, she's a dex build. I'm still not clear on what she bit off Fowler's face to escape that hold. It wasn't his nose or tongue? Clarity there would have been nice and felt good.

Seki's death was flagged so hard it almost ruined the impact for me because then I was just looking for it to happen. RIP Seki, he was such a cool character.

The licensed tracks were always distracting. No anachronistic music in a period piece!

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Alpha, Beta (& Omega)"

Rated: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3617

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, nobility/royalty au, alternate history, dom/sub elements, beta bucky, anal sex, oral sex, hurt/comfort, first time, age gap, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, wedding night, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series first, got to the story's masterlist

13. A Public Scene

This Chapter: “What do you think I should do to you, hm? You think I should spank you? Put you over my knee? I wasn't raised to neglect my duties as Headship, Bucky. I've been spending all this time trying to be lenient, trying to be your friend. But maybe that’s not what you need. Maybe you just need to be put in your place.”

Bucky sets his plan into motion the very next day. He asks Steve if they can do something fun that evening. “Something that does not involve high Society,” he stipulates, to which Steve gets a thoughtful look on his face and tells him,

“Yeah. Yeah we can do that. I’ll come up with something.”

What Bucky doesn’t expect is for him to take them out to a genuine tavern. Inside the local Rose and Crown, it’s warm and loud and cheerful. Bucky lets Steve guide him to a booth and they both slide onto the bench, squished in next to each other. “It’s crowded!” Bucky says, voice raised to be heard over the general volume of the place. He's grinning like an idiot, never having been in a place like this. "I've never been in a place like this!"

“Sorry!” Steve says. “I know it’s a little common, but I thought that was what you might’ve wan—"

“I love it!” Bucky says, and he does. The hubbub and cheer of all the patrons is infectious. It makes Bucky wish that he could be a part of it. Society fellows like he and Steve would never be permitted to frequent places like this back home. The anonymity of their trip allows them to pass under the radar for now, and Bucky finds that delightful. The fact that they’ve dressed down for the evening helps them pass unnoticed—although they’re dressed fancier than any of the locals. It isn’t a lewd place or anything, just a social hub for working men and women after a long day, but the mood is boisterous and rowdy, and Bucky is honestly surprised that Steve would bring him here. “It’s neat!” he tells Steve.

Steve smiles and looks enthused at Bucky’s response. He scoots in closer—much closer—to Bucky and puts their faces together so that neither of them has to shout. “Yeah?” he asks, smiling genuinely and meeting Bucky’s gaze with his pretty blue eyes and stupidly earnest, stupidly handsome face. “Good. I wanted to do something you’d enjoy, after the ball last night. I know you didn’t exactly have the greatest time.”

Bucky scoffs. “You can say that again.”

On the tabletop, Steve’s hand slides over top of his, enveloping his fingers in an affectionate squeeze. “I know that wasn’t easy for you, behaving like that, having all those snotty people look down their noses at you. But I appreciate the restraint you showed.” His eyes are kind but his lips quirk the barest bit, as if he’s remembering Bucky’s huffy shenanigans at the ball. “I have to admit, I kind of loved seeing the look on Lady Whatsit’s face when you actually told her to butt out.” When Bucky does nothing but look at their joined hands and grunt, Steve hums and rubs hand soothingly. “I’m sure it’ll get easier to navigate public events in the future, as a Senatorial Spouse. And of course it's not so strict back home, Buck. You know I’ll always try to—”

“Let’s order drinks,” Bucky says, cutting him off and pulling his hand out of Steve’s consoling one. Steve looks a little miffed, but Bucky pretends not to notice and flags down the barkeep.

“Get ye?” the man asks as he arrives at their table, wiping his hands on a towel. Bucky asks what he recommends they order to drink. The barkeep squints at him, as though Bucky’s outed himself as an outsider simply by having to ask. He grunts and says that he’ll bring them over two pints. Bucky’s certain he catches the guy muttering something about “Rich folk” on his way back to the bar.

Two big glasses get clunked onto the table a moment later. “Hope you like Guinness,” Bucky tells Steve as he sits back and pulls his own mug in close. “Or whatever this is.” It’s black, foamy on top, and Bucky lifts the heavy glass to drink from it. The foam gets all over his upper lip. He pulls back and smacks his lips loudly. “Wow. I really hate beer.” He sips again, accumulating more foam. Steve laughs at him and Bucky raises an eyebrow. Deciding to be a shit, he swipes the foam away on a finger, then sucks that finger into his mouth in a purposefully suggestive manner.

“Buck,” Steve scolds, still smiling. “Take it easy.”

Bucky refrains from rolling his eyes. “Oh. So I can’t entice you in public then?”

Steve’s eyebrows rise. “Entice?”

“Mm.” Bucky shrugs. “I mean, you wouldn’t want me doing anything like, say … this?” He scoots so close to Steve that they’re pressed full together from shoulder to hip, then slides his hand onto Steve’s leg. Even from over his trousers, Bucky can feel the firm muscle of his thigh. “Husband?”

Steve’s gone still, and after a moment of what Bucky interprets as shock, his hand finds Bucky’s under the table and removes it. “Yeah. Definitely not that.”

“Oh come on. Don’t be such an old man.”

“I’m hardly old,” Steve drawls. “Just because you’re a child.”

“You’re the one who married me,” Bucky grumbles before he can help it. Steve stiffens though, having heard. He lets go of Bucky’s hand.

“I meant it figuratively, of course,” he snips. “You’re of majority.”

Yeah and you’re a thirty year old Alpha who pity-married your beta first. Who even does that? Bucky can’t bring himself to say it out loud, though he wants to. When he starts to slide his hand back onto Steve’s thigh, the alpha sighs and removes it again. “Honestly, Buck, what do you want me to say: ‘Yes, you can go ahead and grope me in public’?”

“Nobody would’ve seen,” Bucky snipes. “I was just trying to have some fun.”

Steve looks like he doesn’t know what to say to that. Before he can say anything, the sound of a piano chimes, someone having started in on a loud tune across the bar. It’s a drinking song that’s obviously well-known, as many of the patrons laugh and start to sing along. “There,” Steve says, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s waist and hugging him against his side. He kisses his hair and gives him a playful squeeze. “Stop trying to molest me and just enjoy the atmosphere.”

Bucky grunts, pulls his beer in closer to sip it, and tries not to admit to himself how much he likes the feeling of being held tightly against Steve’s body.

Several beers and many songs later, the pub is in full swing. The man who’d been playing songs at the piano an hour ago has been replaced by a younger—and drunker—woman, and she’s banging out tunes that have far bawdier lyrics, much to Bucky’s delight.

He’s drunk now. He waited until Steve got caught up in conversation with a friendly stranger, then took several shots in rapid succession before he could be caught. Now, Steve has excused himself to the restroom and Bucky’s taken his chance again to order and down another two shots. He goes to the piano’s side with a few other fellows who’re singing along, and stands there drinking his beer and singing loudly along with the current song that he thinks he’s got about half the lyrics down pat—something about a locksmith’s mistress.

The other people have noticed Bucky and that he’s American, and they start cheering for him to take the lead in the chorus. And hey, since Bucky’s drunk and wants to piss Steve off, he figures this is a good way to test the waters. It’s not like he isn’t having fun being stupid in public, anyways. So he gets up on a bench and starts singing the worst of the lewd lyrics with everyone clapping and singing along with him.

Everybody is ruddy-cheeked and howling with laughter and drunkenness, and Bucky is actually starting to crack himself up. Down below, somebody shoves what must be the prettiest girl in the room forward and they hoist her up onto Bucky’s bench, and Bucky takes her into his arms and they sing the lyrics together, him getting the words wrong out of ignorance, and her out of utter drunkenness. The chorus comes ‘round again and they’re all about to sing it, but then Steve comes back from the restroom and sees the situation. And he does not look pleased. His eyes widen in shock, aimed straight at where Bucky has his arm wrapped around the pretty girl’s waist. Then they narrow to slits, 

Oh boy.

Bucky grins and lowers the girl back down to the floor. “Sorry Doll,” he says. “I think this is where I leave you.”

“Aww no!!” The crowd moans and protests the ‘Crazy American’ leaving, but Bucky waves them off with a drunken salute. “I love you!” he says. “Goodnight! Godspeed! God save the queen!”

The people roar and cheer even louder at that, and just when Bucky’s about to say he’ll be back tomorrow night, he feels Steve’s big hand wrap around his wrist and give a firm yank. “Let’s go.”

Outside on the street, Bucky has to keep his eyes focused on the sidewalk because everything in London is cobblestoned and therefore a literal deathtrap for any pedestrian who’s had more than two drinks. “Ouch! Oof! Steve, slow down!” Bucky’s giggling and stumbling, holding onto Steve’s arm as they walk and gleefully aware of how unhappy his husband is. The upset, possessive Alpha smell coming off of him is the biggest indicator. Bucky snickers, amused by it as they walk. “You smell mad, Steve.”

Steve grunts.

“Are you mad?” Bucky asks, voice lilting childishly, even to his own ears.

Steve huffs and pulls him along. “Yes, Bucky. I’m mad.”

“But whyyy?” Bucky whines. 

“Because. You were behaving like a fool.”

“Pft. So what?”

Steve’s arm muscles stiffen where Bucky’s hanging onto him. “You’re a Senator’s husband!”

Bucky huffs. He knows that. If they were in the States, he’d almost certainly be in the penny papers by morning print. And it would not be good for Steve’s image or his career “Why’d we hafta leave?” he slurs, not paying attention to Steve’s answer at all. He knows he was being completely inappropriate. That’d been the point. He doesn’t admit this to Steve, of course. “I was having fun!”

“Too much fun,” Steve says, voice clipped.

Bucky grumbles unhappily. “No.”

“Come on. We’re here.”

The next thing Bucky knows, they’re in the apartment, and—wow—he must be drunker than he thought, because hadn’t they just been in the street? “Huh,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shrugging his jacket off onto the floor. He hears Steve make a frustrated sound and turns to face him. “What?”

“Pick that up,” Steve says. “You’re not going to make a mess in my home.”

“Your home?” Bucky frowns. “What’s yours is mine, Dear.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah. Hang your things up, or at least put them in the bin where the servants will find them.”

It takes Bucky a few seconds to process that, and when he does, he gets defensive and sneers at Steve. “The ‘bin’? The ‘bin’ is the trashcan, Steve. Don’t you speak British?” He’s being nothing but snotty and difficult, but that’s the whole point. He kicks his jacket across the floor, though it doesn’t move very far—certainly not far enough to be satisfying. “S’fine,” he insists brattily. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

Steve clearly doesn’t think this is funny. He stands there looking annoyed, hands on his hips. “Trust me, tomorrow you are not going to be in any shape to tidy this place. Come on Bucky. Pick it up. I’m not playing this game with you.”

Bucky stills, the amusement draining from his face at the rude awakening of Steve's Voice.  “‘Game’?” he says lowly. “You think I’m playing a game?”

“Pick up your things and come to bed.” Steve doesn’t spare him another glance as he turns and leaves the room.

Bucky scoffs at the authority in his tone, and at the fact that he's pretty much dismissed Bucky by turning his back and walking away. Bucky scoops up his jacket and follows after him, standing in the doorway to the bedroom and crossing his arms as he watches Steve starting to get undressed.

“Hang your jacket up,” Steve says.

Bucky drops it. “Make me.” He kicks his shoes off one by one, just to add to the insolence. 

“Oh.” Steve says. He nods and calmly removes his cufflinks and watch. He sets them aside on the highboy, then takes the time to neatly remove his shirt and drape it over the footboard of the bed. Bucky gets distracted at the sight of Steve’s bared upper body in only an undershirt—his toned back and wide shoulders and tapered waist … But then Steve turns to face him, and the look he gives Bucky is all business. “Is that how it is, then?” he asks quietly.

Bucky nods, though in all honesty he feels a bit nervous to be actively challenging Steve like this. Even for someone like him, it’s bold. Steve is his Headship, after all, and his features are hardening rapidly at Bucky’s behavior. “That’s how it is,” Bucky says.

Steve inhales deeply, looking disappointed. “You’re sloppy-drunk Buck. How many shots did you down while I was away from the table?”

Bucky's face slackens, taken-aback and annoyed that Steve knows about the shots. Digging his heels in, he shrugs and lets a mean little chuckle escape. “I dunno. Who cares? I was having fun.” He gets up in Steve’s face and points at him. “Because that’s what real people do, Steve. They have fun, they get drunk.”

“It’s how alcoholics have fun,” Steve snaps, not backing down from Bucky’s closeness. “Or bratty betas who’re trying to cause a scene.”

Bucky freezes, caught out by Steve’s words. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Oh, weren’t you?” Steve cants his head. “You’re telling me that little display wasn’t you trying to push your boundaries with me?”

Bucky feels his cheeks heat. “Boundaries?” He scoffs. “What boundaries? You haven’t set any. I’m not a child.” Bitterly, he adds, “Like you have any right to—”

“I have every right to, and you know it,” Steve says tersely. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to make it a formal thing in our marriage. I was hoping you’d just—"

“Just what, Steve? Hm? Just behave? Fall in line? Obey you?”

Steve's lips twist unhappily. “It was in your marriage vows, if you’ll remember correctly.”

That hits Bucky like a slap in the face. Because, shit: it really was, wasn’t it? “Well we both know this was a marriage of convenience,” he counters, flustered and well-aware of the new level of nasty he’s taking this to. “I didn’t get to write the vows, I just had to say them.”

“But you did agree to say them. I gave you ample opportunity to back out,” Steve says. "I left the choice to you."

“And leave my family in ruin?” Bucky scoffs. “Yeah, some choice that was.” He glares at Steve and growls, though it’s nothing like the sort of sound Steve could put out, if he wanted to. “I never wanted this. I never wanted you!” Steve is coming closer, backing him up against the wall and holding him in place with his stare and his pure physicality, their chests only inches apart. Bucky gulps at the proximity and the scent of him. Steve smells …

“You want boundaries?” he says. “You’ll get them.”

Overcome by the unnerving urge to bare his neck to his Alpha, Bucky swallows heavily and forces himself not to. “You gonna hit me?” he asks, genuinely worried that Steve might do it. He certainly looks displeased enough.

For a second, Steve’s eyes go soft, but then they harden again. “You seem to think you can keep asking that, then provoking me, then asking again, and it’ll never happen.” He tips his head down to Bucky's level, leaning in closer—close enough that Bucky would think he was going to kiss him, if they weren’t in their present situation. “What do you think I should do to you, hm? You think I should spank you? Put you over my knee?”

Bucky gulps and shakes his head the barest bit. “No.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, mocking him with a sympathetic pout. “No? Hm. Over the bed then? I think that’s how my mother did it with my fathers. Or maybe with your palms against the wall. Or wait, I know; I’ll have you bend right in half and grab your ankles. That’s the most humiliating position of all, isn’t it? Maybe that’s what it’ll take with you. I've been spending all this time trying to be lenient, trying to be your friend. But maybe that’s not what you need.”

Bucky whimpers, overwhelmed by this new side of Steve he’s seeing. “S-steve,”

“Maybe you just need to be put in your place.” Steve physically presses him against the wall, crowding him until their chests are touching and he’s putting his lips to Bucky’s ear to whisper, “You think I don’t know how to assert myself in this marriage, Bucky? Well try me. I didn’t put the capital H in Headship, but we both know it’s there. And I wasn’t raised to neglect my Spouse.” He steps back, giving back those few inches of space, though it hardly makes a difference for how stuck in place Bucky feels. “I’ll discipline you when I feel it’s needed.”

“Now?!”

He shakes his head. “Tonight was your last freebie.”

Bucky is left gaping, unable to untangle his cowed thoughts from his outraged ones. He’s drunk, so he settles on growling and jerking away from Steve, headed to the bathroom to get away from him. “I hate you!” he snaps, not clever enough to come up with anything more creative to say. 

Steve doesn’t reply or follow after him, thank goodness.

Bucky runs himself a bath just so that he can have time to himself. But eventually the bathwater gets cold, and he's forced to concede that his reprieve is over.

He pulls the plug from the drain and dries off using one of the big fluffy towels. Steve’s London apartment really is very luxurious, but he doesn’t have time to appreciate the fine crystal fixtures or the smooth marble floors. He knows he has to go back out to the bedroom and face his husband now, and he so doesn’t want to.

When he gets out there, Steve is sitting up against the headboard, legs under the covers and changed into his night clothes. He’s holding a book, the bedside lamp’s gas flame just barely illuminating the darkness. “Hey,” he says, marking his place in the book and setting it aside. He pats the bed next to him. “Come on over here.”

Bucky frowns, feeling vulnerable with his hair wet and nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He goes over to the vacant side of the bed. “... You want me to sleep in here?” he asks, audibly unsure. He’d been expecting Steve to tell him to sleep in another of the bedrooms.

“I don’t subscribe to the notion of kicking Spouses out of bed for misbehavior,” Steve says. He nods for Bucky to lie down. “Come here.” 

Bucky bites his lip, eyes roving over to where his own nightclothes are stored in the dresser … 

“You don’t need them,” Steve says, bringing Bucky’s attention back. He nods at the towel. “You’ve been so eager to drop your clothing all night. You can stay naked.”

That makes Bucky’s guts twist with dread—and okay, maybe the barest twinge of arousal. The dread far outweighs it, though. He hesitates, but eventually listens, dropping the towel and climbing under the covers quickly. He doesn’t want to be naked in front of Steve. “Don’t touch me,” he says when he’s laid down and Steve is moving closer.

Steve pauses, body going stiff where he’d been about to pull Bucky into his arms. "What?"

“I don’t want to have sex,” Bucky mumbles, not quite able to meet his eyes. “Please don’t make me.”

Steve’s scent sours even worse than when he was angry and had Bucky pinned against the wall. It’s a long moment before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is quiet but firm: “I will never force you to have sex with me, Bucky. Do you understand that?” Bucky keeps his eyes down and nods, but Steve doesn’t accept that. “Look at me.”

Bucky inhales at the use of Steve’s Voice. He meets his eyes … and is surprised to see that Steve doesn’t look mad. He does look like he’s waiting for Bucky to listen to something important, though. “What?” Bucky snaps self-consciously.

“I know what I said about being your Headship, Buck. And I meant it. But I promise you: I won’t ever make you do anything sexual that you don’t want.”

He squirms, embarrassed even though he’s glad to hear Steve say this. “Don’t see why not,” he mumbles. “It’s your ‘right’ just like everything else. You’re the Headship, and I’m just the beta Second you pity-married.”

Steve can obviously hear all of the quiet scorn in that, but he doesn’t take the bait. He stares at him for a long moment, his unhappy gaze boring into Bucky from across the bed. “Go to sleep, Buck,” he finally says, sounding sad. “Trust me: I have zero interest in touching you that way tonight. I was just going to hold you while we fall asleep.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

“… And you only ever have to say ‘no’ to me, if you don’t want it,” he adds. His scent has turned to something kind of … hollow and forlorn. Bucky doesn’t like it. “Go to sleep,” he says again, then reaches over to turn down the lamp.

They’re left in darkness illuminated only by the faint speck of the lamp's pilot light. Bucky feels the motions as Steve shuffles and lays down on the mattress, firmly on his side of the bed. Bucky lies down too, tucking into himself and scrubbing his cheek into the pillow, facing away from Steve.

He winds up feeling cold and alone, and wishing he’d allowed his alpha to hold him after all.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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[carnivorousyandeere]

i've been reading through your older posts and i couldn't help but become curious about eris, she seems so... multifaceted? the way she's all about being strong and only ever respecting strength and instinct and super intimidating but also sees her darling as someone delicate, that should be treated gently and protected... love it

but i find it a bit hard to visualize how she'd be on a day-to-day relationship? like it's obvious that she wants to love and to be loved, that she feels a need to be gentle (even if its because her darling is so much weaker and easier to hurt than her)... but does she let it show? or is she kind of tsundere-ish? what sort of relationship would she want to have? could she be ~domestic~?

sorry if those are too many questions but i really like her! also i really like the new name!!!

Want you to know this ask really warmed my heart, been thinking about it for days. Makes me smile every time. Thank you 🥹🫶

Glad you like Eris so much, and the questions you asked are very thoughtful and sweet!

She’s definitely more on the tsundere side, especially early in the relationship/if her Darling displays fear or aggression towards her. Conflicted feelings all around between her prey drive being triggered by how fragile you are compared to xir, that frustrating inability to solve the problem and actually eat you (she doesn’t understand she loves you and that’s why she can’t bear to eat you). It leads to a very confusing push-and-pull.

The desire to have you, the mixed hungers for you, lead her to try using her voice to lure you in and seduce you like other sirens might, only for her to find the sight of you mindlessly offering yourself against your will repugnant, breaking the spell and pushing you away. Of course, this is confusing for you— one moment xe was looking at you with those deep, dark bedroom eyes, tracing her nails down your arm in just the way that makes you shiver— and the next, she’s brushing past you with that troubled look and telling you not to follow her.

When her jealousy overwhelms her, she loses a fraction of the control over her behavior and strength, and may bruise or dig her nails into xir Darling’s skin as she drags them closer to try and regulate her agitated nerves.

As the relationship goes on, Eris begins to regulate and treats you both more gently both physically and emotionally, warming up to the idea of having a more domestic relationship (by both mer and human standards). This is when her more protective side kicks in— when she realizes that xe truly doesn’t want to eat you, but that she’d rather have you as her mate. Xe won’t allow you to leave her side, the fear of your fragile humanness leaving you vulnerable without her protection overriding considerations for your autonomy. She gets more cuddly and soft, though she’s still pretty grumbly and not very conversational.

However, much of the trajectory of the relationship from obsession/hunger confusion —> somewhat normal relationship (although xe still kills and eats people who get too friendly with you) depends heavily on her Darling’s patience and willingness to deal with xir more erratic and honestly “red flag” behaviors at the start of the relationship. (If Darling is one to kick and squirm and fight her a lot at the beginning, that can also trigger more of her prey drive and makes her a lot snappier and more likely to accidentally injure them instead. Good recipe for guilt eating away at Eris’ soul later down the line, though~)

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Regrets

Chapter 2

Warnings/chapter index

Chapter 3

"So you really haven't made any friends in the past three years?"

You shook your head over a mound of steaming eggs and buttered toast. "Not really. I had people that I worked with, but other than that I didn't socialize very much."

Kurapika nodded and finished piling the scramble onto his own plate from a hot pan. "That was probably smart."

"Maybe." You shrugged. "Anyways, what have you been doing?"

"Searching." The boy didn't need to elaborate. "I took the hunter exam last year. That'a where I met my friends."

"You mean where you met Leorio?"

"I never should've told you anything. Regardless, getting a license has made things much easier."

"Yeah, it definitely has its perks."

Kurapika cocked an eyebrow. "You took the exam as well?"

You grabbed a small laminated package that held your license and ID, pulling it out and pushing it in front of him. "Two years ago."

He humaneness in response. "I heard the examiners were brutal."

"I passed easily."

Kurapika smiled. "Did you cheat?"

"No!"

Maybe a little bit.

Using your abilities to make the examiners extremely fond of you was easy. Earning favors and hints along the way was quite helpful, one of them had even allowed you to secretly stay in the hunters quarters while others participated in a deathly game of capture the flag.

Sadly, he ended up hospitalized later on after pissing another examinee off.

"Did you use your nen?"

The question made you look up from the buttered toast in surprise. "You know about that?"

"So you did cheat."

"Using the abilities God has blessed me with is not cheating. How is it fair for nen users if they can't use the abilities they've already begun to rely on?"

Kurapika gave a soft grin once more. "I guess not. I had some help along the way as well."

"From Leorio?"

"I'm done."

"No, no, please come back! I'm done, I swear." You watched him give a small huff, along with a badly concealed smile. "Wait, so you said you knew about my nen abilities, right? Is that why you asked for me to come?"

Silence filled the room again, Kurapika's eyes still refusing to meet yours until you gently tapped the side of his face.

"You're allowed to ask for help. I want to do anything I can. All I've ever wanted to do was help you."

Another moment of quietness.

"I'm hunting the Phantom Troupe." A tiny burning sensation began to build behind your eyes, hidden behind colored contacts, as he continued. "My nen. I'm a conjurer."

"Woah." Reaching out a hand to touch the shining metal he had just created, you breathed in a slight gasp. "They're pretty"

Kurapika smiled as he watched you twirl the different parts and little charms that hung from his pointer finger.

"During the Hunter exam, I came into contact with someone who knew of the troupe. He agreed to meet with me and from him I learned that they are here, in the city."

The air was sucked out of your lungs with an invisible vacuum as your hands scrunched at the blue tablecloth. A warm palm gently grabbed your own, immediately slowing your heart rate down. You looked into Kurapika's eyes, then nodded for him to continue.

"I'm going to kill them."

"What do you need me to do?"

"You're... not gonna try to stop me?"

"You've obviously set your mind to it. And apparently it's still just as important to you as it was three years ago. So what do you need me to do?"

"Don't tell me it's because-"

"I don't want revenge. That's the difference between us. You're angry, I'm just scared. If I never come into contact with the troupe, I'll die happy."

"And that's why you should leave as soon as possible."

"But I also know that I'll regret letting you do this alone for the rest of my life." You looked up into his cold, grey of his eyes. "I want to help. So what do you need me to do?"

"Your nen. You can control emotions and alter memories, correct?"

"To an extent."

"Good." Kurapika nodded. "There's a man, my teacher. He's the only one who knows about my abilities and the conditions that come with it."

"Conditions?"

"I made a mental pact with myself. Concerning my chains, I am only able to use them at full power against the Phantom Troupe. There's a nen dagger in my heart. If I break my promise, I die."

...

"What?"

"'What?' You're an idiot!" Standing up, the chair scratched against the floor, creating tiny dents along the wood. "I knew you were obsessed with killing the Troupe, but I didn't know you were going to do something so reckless! You're going to get yourself killed! What happens when you need to protect yourself from someone other than them, huh? What happens-"

"Y/n." During your rant, Kurapika hadn't moved an inch, just waiting for you to burn out. "This is my decision. I'll be careful."

Narrowing your eyes, you sighed at him before sitting back down. "Fine. But that was really, really dumb."

"I know."

"You were talking about your master, right?"

"Yes. According to my source, there might be a mind reader on the troupe. I'm not sure the extent of their powers, but anyone who knows of my weakness is a danger. He's in the next city over; I need you to find him and erase any memories of our interactions."

"And you really wanna do this?"

He nodded without hesitation, then watched you take a shaky breath before standing and wrapping his arms around you, just like you had last night. You forgot how nice it was.

He was the only one you were ever vulnerable with. The only one you had left to be vulnerable with.

And you loved him.

"I'm so sorry for everything, but I swear... I'm going to kill the Troupe and we can be happy again." He softly tapped your cheek, motioning for you to look up at him. "You won't ever have to be scared of anyone and you can have as many friends as you want. That's all I've ever wanted, was for you to feel safe. We can all live in a big house with-"

"With Leorio?" You said, attempting a small smile.

"I hate you."

"I love you too."

XxXxX

Finding the nen master and erasing his memories of Kurapika was quite easy, especially considering his fondness of the boy and willingness to do so if you just asked.

Of course, it wasn't technically erasing the memories, just altering the emotions and therefore perceptions of the events that played out. It didn't always work, but for the most part it was successful and since the participant had agreed toward it, the procedure only went that much more smoothly.

You were now walking down the streets of York New city, gazing over the multiple stalls that had been brought in for the yearly auction.

Marketers shouted for your attention, promoting their goods and services, some of which were actually quite interesting, even if this was just the tip of the iceberg concerning the actual event.

The auction that took place in York New city was a completely different breed of business. Black market items and illegal substances were thrown around like candy, trillions of yen offered up in exchange for exotic rewards.

It was a playground for someone of the richest and crooked individuals in the world, neither buyer nor seller giving a second thought to the objects in question, whether it be body parts or actual people. Consciences were pure as snow, delighted at the profit or new exciting item, even though the event was centered around lies, deceit, and greed.

Some individuals however, did take advantage of the tradition in ways that were merely recreational and held no ill intent.

Children ran around with their new toys excitedly in front of you, the parents chasing after them in a panic. With a small lift of your finger, one child's excitement softened into a deep calm, slowing him down enough for his mothers to catch him. Now, the two woman had the boy, each one holding a hand and swinging him up and down as they walked, the child laughing in pure joy.

Smiling at his expression, you continued moving forward until a certain attraction caught your attention.

"Only a thousand yen to participate! Beat this child and your prize is this extraordinary ring! Look how easy it is folks! Anyone could win with an easy arm wrestling contest!"

The person connected to the voice and the two surrounding him made your breath hitch in surprise.

No way.

As you turned toward the sound, three individuals stood out to you, one young adult and two children.

One child sitting on the table had dark hair with greenish highlights, his bright brown eyes full of life and wonder. Dressed head to toe in emerald, he radiated pure confidence and easily beat the man sitting across from him, who was about five times larger.

The kid next to him was holding the 'extraordinary ring.' He had pure white hair and blue feline-like eyes. This child also had an aura of confidence around him, but he seemed much more cautious than the boy in green. However, you could also sense he held an enormous amount of trust and love towards his comrade.

It almost reminded you of the way Kurapika felt about your friendship, although between the two boys it seemed almost more intimate.

The man was very tall and wore a blue suit and small glasses, his black hair slicked back and dark eyes wide with excitement and energy.

They fit the description Kurapika had given perfectly.

You made your way to the back of the line and waited patiently until your turn came and sat down across from the small boy in green.

The man in blue nodded at you and waved his hands at the crowd, quickly gaining their attention. "Look here! The first female we've had gave my friend quite a challenge! Let's see if he can beat this next one."

After handing the money to Leorio, you gently grabbed onto the boy, who had the sweetest look of innocence on his face, with a gloved hand.

"And... go!"

In all honestly, you weren't very strong, at least without your nen. Actually, your physical strength was normal, even borderline weak compared to others.

However, you had a very small amount of losses, despite the large number of fights you had participated in for training and other reasons.

You relied on what you knew best to win.

Most people may have called it cheating, but you were just using your other skills since they were using their physical ones.

Survival of the fittest and all that good stuff.

While your physical strength was minimal, you relied on your nen to distract, confuse, weaken, and even damage the enemy. For this instance, you used the first strategy. The moment you locked eyes with the boy, you immediately sent an immeasurable amount of happiness in his direction. A smile broke out on his face and he even began to start laughing, weakening the strength and focus he put into the fight. The diversion gave you a chance to take advantage and pull his hand down on the side of the table.

The match was over in seconds.

Now looking down at his hand with wide eyes, the boy in green had stopped laughing and was looking towards his friend in confusion. The white haired one was starting to become defensive.

The man in blue, however, tapped his shoulder and motioned to hold the diamond ring forward, sending a nervous laugh in your direction. A tic had begun to form on his forehead, a mix between anger and surprise.

"Well, uh... here you go. Congratulations." He muttered through clenched teeth.

"It's okay. I don't want it." You waved off the boy in white.

The scowl disappeared as man leaned down to your level. "You... what?"

"I just wanna talk. Buy me a coffee?"

XxXxX

"So you really know Kurapika?"

The boy in green sat in front of you, holding a large ice cream in his hands, which were almost shaking in excitement. The boy in white also sat next to him, along with the tall guy in blue, both of which still had their eyes narrowed, although their distrust had lessened monumentally after the mention of your friend.

"Yep. I've known him basically all my life."

"So that means you're-"

"Gon, don't ask questions like that! What if she doesn't want to talk about it!"

"It's okay!" You waved the man. "Yeah, I'm part of his clan. We don't talk about it much though to avoid suspicion, probably why he didn't mention me as the other survivor. Kurapika and I separated a few years ago, but we met up again and he told me all about his friends from the Hunter exam. That's how I recognized you all!"

"So, how did you beat Gon?"

Looking up at white haired boy, you cringed in embarrassment under his suspicious expression "Oh, well, it wasn't very fair. I'm not actually strong, so I just used my nen. Sorry about that, but you've got an amazing grip!"

Gon smiled at the compliment but his friend cocked an eyebrow. "And what can you do?"

"My nen you mean? I control emotions and stuff, which can go as far as mind manipulation, but I usually just overwhelm my opponent enough to where they can't concentrate."

He hummed in surprise at your response, leaning back in his chair. His emotional discharge began to peak for a moment, as if the mention of mind manipulation hit a weak spot.

"I only use it when myself or other people are in trouble though! It's really hard to control anyway so I barely ever actually use it. It takes a lot of persuasion and the right circumstance to actually accomplish anything. I also need to make some sort of noise or I lose focus."

"That's so cool!" Gon jumped out of his seat, running around the table. "I never knew Kurapika had any other friends. Anyway, I'm Gon!"

"I'm Y/n!"

"Killua." The small boy in white still held a small bit of caution, but it dissipated surprising quickly the minute Gon had accepted your presence.

"I'm Leorio." The man in blue put out his hand with a big smile.

You shook it, then raised a mocha coffee to your lips before responding under your breath with a smug grin. "I know."

"Huh?"

XxXxX

So you had finally met Kurapikas friends, all of whom you were growing quite fond of, even in the short amount of time you had to talk.

Gon seemed like such a big ball of light, always followed by Killua, both of which held such a deep care for one another. It made your chest lighten at the thought of how sweet it was. Leorio was also extremely kindhearted, even if he hid it with monetary goals. As his best friend, you gave Kurapika permission to go out with him.

While the small group were all good and determined, they also radiated a deep power, especially the two younger ones. This only intensified when they were together. Gon and Killua fed off one another, each one strengthening the other, which was another reason why you weren't surprised to see them tracking the Troupe together.

Actually, you were just minding your business when you spotted them. An attempt to grab their attention only made you realize how cautious and focused they were acting.

So you had followed them, watching for any signs of trouble, until they stopped inside an abandoned building, Killua waiting in one room and Gon in the next. Both kept in touch through Beetle phones, each watching something outside the window with extreme care.

Stepping inside the closest room, you lifted your hands up to show surrender.

"Killua."

The boy in front of you gave a tiny jump in surprise, then rushed over to you with inhuman speed, a hand positioned at your throat ready to go kill at any moment. You wearily noticed how quickly his nails had turned into miniature knives, veins now running through his pale skin like roots of a tree.

"Y/n?"

His composure softened when he realized it was you, fingernails retracting.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I saw you and Gon a few miles back. You both seemed upset so I followed to make sure nothing was wrong."

Killua's giant eyes widened. "You were following us for that long and we didn't notice anything?"

Your heart swelled as you sensed the small amount of growing admiration coming from Kurapika's friend. "Guess not. I'm sure you were preoccupied with whatever was going on any way. Speaking of..."

Making your way quietly over to the window sill, a small tug was felt on your shirt sleeve, Killua's hand wrapped around it and pulling you back. "Don't. You have to go."

"What? Why?"

"Killua!" Gon's small voice sounded from the phone. "Killua! Are you okay? What's going on?"

Killua picked up the device again, holding it to his ear and blocking Gon's voice. "Y/n is here."

He listened back at Gon's response before lowering the phone and turning back to you. "Gon says hi."

Cute.

"Anyway I told her she should go because-"

With the phone still lowered, you slightly could hear what was going on in the other end. "Why? She can help us! Do you remember what she could do at the auction? I still don't know what her nen was but it was so cool! I-"

"Idiot." Killua muttered. "No, she's leaving. Kurapika would murder us if he knew she was here. Anyway I don't want her to freak out or something."

"Killua." Resting a hand on his shoulder, you stopped him from continuing. "Who's down there?"

The boy sighed in defeat.

"The Phantom Troupe."

XxXxX

Annoyance.

It wasn't anger, but mostly just annoyance that the two individuals in front of you felt.

They stood side by side, staring forward into the distance, discussing what you believed was Kurapika.

It was mostly the one with hot pick locks. She was extremely hard to read, whether it be the strength of her protective aura or just the naturally emotional detachment she possessed.

When Killua had mentioned the Phantom Troupe, your body had gone into a small state of shock. His eyes widened as he watched your retinas begin to burn a bright scarlet beneath the contacts, only a small pigment change that his extremely trained eyes allowed him to notice.

Kurapika had mentioned they had been in the city less than a week ago, but that just didn't seemed real. The Phantom Troupe was almost like a myth or fairy tail parents told their children to keep them behaved. It was impossible to believe such a wicked group of people existed and were still active today, even if you knew otherwise. They basically oozed power, even if they did an incredible job of hiding it, both of their protective aura's strong enough to completely mask their presence. You could remember a similarly sickly feeling from your hiding space beneath the closet.

Of course, standing twenty meters away was probably much more different than standing next to them.

Killua's pity made you cringe in embarrassment, enough to slow your heart rate at least. However, it was almost cute how they were so protective of someone quite a few years older than them.

At some point, he had taken notice of your terrified stillness and even tried giving your hand a reassuring pat. It was extremely awkward given his lack of skills and knowledge regarding ways to physically calm someone down, but adorable nonetheless. When you told him so, the boy grunted in embarrassment and turned his blushing face away, muttering things such as 'you're just as bad as Gon' or 'why'd I get paired up with such idiots.'

"They're waiting for someone, or trying to draw us out." Killua was crouched down next to you as you spoke, holding a phone with Gon on the other end. "One or the other."

"Do you think they know we're following them?"

Gon's tiny voice could be heard from the piece of beetle technology. It didn't taken any nen for you to understand he was determined as ever.

Killua looked up at you in question as you gazed down at the dark haired man, who was much easier to read.

"Yeah, but they don't know our location. At least not yet."

"Then that's why they're trying to lure us out." Killua nodded and turned back to the phone. "They want us to show ourselves."

"What are we gonna do?"

The conversation between the boys drowned out in your thoughts, voices fading into the background as a small alert light went off in your head.

Someone else was here.

"Run."

"Huh? What are you talking about-"

"We need to go. Tell Gon now."

Killua nodded, grabbing the beatle and putting it up to his ear. His eyes trailed down towards the duo below and a sharp gasp escaped his mouth.

Following his gaze, your heart stopped.

The dark haired man was staring straight at you.

Both you and Killua swiftly jumped up and made a run for the door. Your pulse was beating out of your body, brain going into overdrive from the sudden sympathetic response.

The fight or flight sensors went into overdrive when a blond man in a green tracksuit materialized in seconds, blocking your path out of the door.

Is he a part of the troupe too?

Breath.

Everything's gonna be fine if you just breath.

I can't fucking breath.

I'm gonna die.

Not if you calm down.

"Hey."

Quickly turning around, you and Killua were now back to back and facing two men on either side, the blond in front of Killua and the black haired member, now with a smug grin plastered on his face, facing you.

"Hello, Phinks. What are you doing here? I swear I was told you were heading out with the boss."

The dark haired man had an elbow resting on the window side, one leg on the ledge as if he had just jumped four stories up.

Apparently, Killua realized this as well, shock and even small traces of fear radiating off of him.

"Well, like they say, 'deceive your allies to deceive your enemies' and all that crap."

The man in front of you gave a shrill laugh. "Looks like the boss got me good again. Zetsu masters all over the place? Guess I shoulda known..."

Raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck, the man slowly made this way forward.

They were tracking us while we were tracking them...

And our targets didn't even notice!

That doesn't matter.

They found us.

And we are oh, so totally fucked.

XxXxX

"I'll ask again, do you know the chain user?"

"I already told you that before. I don't!"

The two men had taken you and Killua around the building to a black car. Next to it were Gon, the pink haired woman you were tracking, and a tall, short haired blonde you hadn't seen before.

After being pushed into the compact car, the latter had immediately begun questioning the two boys once more.

Eventually, the group of seven arrived at a building, seemingly abandoned. Exiting the car made the entire ordeal seem that more real, a notion you were terrified to entertain.

The blonde woman, who you had heard the pink haired one refer to as Pakunoda, led everyone inside and motioned towards the center of the room.

"Welcome to our hideout."

The building in front of you was falling apart at the seams, cement walls crumbling in front of your face. People, more troupe members no doubt, sat atop giant boulders, each member cautiously watching you and the boys.

Killua's eyes widened for a moment as he spotted someone.

He wore brightly colored clothing. His reddish hair was swept out of his face, revealing pale skin. A star was painted on one cheek and a droplet of water on the other.

"Hey!"

Apparently, Gon took an interest in him as well.

"What, do you know someone here?" Nobunaga, the dark haired man, asked.

The man in red turned away from Gon to avoid suspicion, his eyes meeting yours instead. Golden irises seemed to burn directly into yours until you looked away in discomfort. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with your reaction.

I've seen him somewhere before...

"Uh..." Killua radiated annoyance toward his friend, but looked around the room in an attempt to explain Gon's outburst. "Oh! We've met her before!"

"Shizuku, do you know these kids?"

He was pointing to a girl with giant glasses and short black hair. She wore a simple black shirt with jeans and seemed to be reading a book until she was interrupted, made to look up and squint at Killua. "Huh? We haven't met before."

"Oh... I remember now. The kid who arm wrestles." The small male who sat next to Shizuku wore a black scarf over his face, covering the bottom half, with most of the other being hidden by black hair. His words blurred into each other, as if each sentence was just one long hyphenated train of thought.

An extremely large man in overalls with matching extremely large earlobes sat on the floor below each of them. "That's right. He beat you the other day in the street."

"He did?" The black haired girl, Shizuku, tilted her head in surprise. "That's a lie, Franklin! I'm not the strongest, but I wouldn't lose to a kid!"

Before Franklin could open his mouth again, the smaller one with the scarf cut him off, the same scratchy sentences coming from his mouth.

"It's no use. Once she's truly forgotten something, she won't remember."

Nobunaga turned to Gon. "Hold on. Is that right? You really beat Shizuku?"

"Yeah."

"I never would've imagined that she was a Phantom Troupe member." Killua muttered.

"Okay." Nobunaga began folding his long black hair into a high ponytail. "Then show me what you've got."

"Huh?"

Gon looked up at the man in confusion, while you jumped in a panic. Until now, you had kinda just phased in and out of the conversation while attempting to control your breathing.

"I want to see how strong you really are, kiddo."

"Not happening."

A dozen pairs of eyes turned toward in your direction.

Nobunaga slowly released the hair elastic and made his way over towards you.

"What do you mean 'not happening?'"

Shit.

"What do you think I meant? I'm not letting you touch him." Forcing yourself to look up, a giant pit of panic in your stomach began to grow, but you forced the small tears that were begging to fall back. "If you want, you can fight me, but he's just a kid. Just leave him alone."

The man stared at you for quite some time, the other members watching the spectacle unfold as unwell.

And then suddenly, he began to laugh.

"You've got guts, girl. I appreciate that, so I won't kill you, but I'm fighting the kid." He turned away from you, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "Somebody hold her back for me."

"Please, you can't-"

A sharp object poked into the side of your throat.. You looked up and realized it was the pale one with red hair Killua and Gon had been so interested in, holding a simple playing card.

However, you weren't exactly paying attention, rather more affected by the words you had just allowed to sink in.

'So I won't kill you.'

Where was that mercy for my family?

Where was it when you ripped the eyeballs from their faces?

What gives me the right to live over them when I'm so weak?

I wonder if it ever keeps you up at night.

The memories, I mean.

Does it, Nobunaga?

Do the image of those bloody, hollow sockets ever show up in your nightmares?

Or have you already forgotten?

We were just another mission after all,

another item of value waiting to be taken.

It wasn't as if we were people.

Your retinas began glowing underneath closed lids. However, you didn't fight back, nor did you continue arguing for Gon's sake. He could hold his own, but against a Phantom Troupe member? An adult troupe member at that.

You hoped so...

"One more."

Slam

"All right, one more.

Slam

Gon's hand had begun to turn a deep violet from the constant smashing into the rock underneath him.

And yet Nobunaga had refused to stop.

Then again, so had Gon.

The kid had spunk, that much was certain. His palm was starting to bleed and he continued on, even going as far to insult his opponent.

"Careful, you're too cocky." The one with the scarf grabbed the boy from behind, pushing him into the rock with a grunt.

"Get off me! I already told you I don't know anything!"

The short one merely cocked an eyebrow at his screams.

"Feitan. Stop it."

"Stop what?"

Nobunaga rubbed his wrist with the other hand. "Stop doing what you're just about to do."

"Oh? You think you know what I'm about to do?"

"You're going to break his arm."

"I'd start with a finger... peel off a nail..."

"It doesn't matter. I told you to stop it."

The short one, Feitan, reluctantly released his grip on Gon, who jumped away within a millisecond of freedom.

"So what do we do with them?" Shizuku asked.

A blond boy dressed in lilac answered, although you had yet to learn his name. You had noticed, however, that he seemed completely cheerful throughout the whole event. "If they don't know anything, we should let them go, right?"

"What do you think, Pakunoda?"

"Shalnark is correct." So that was what it was. "I checked on the way over here. They don't have any memories of the chain user whatsoever."

"Seems your hunch was off for once, Machi." Nobunaga looked over at the woman with an expressionless face, but you could sense how smug he was.

"That's bizarre." She replied. "Oh well, if Pakunoda says so, it must be true."

Franklin raised a hand. "So can we just let them go?"

"Yeah." Shalnark replied. "If they don't know about the chain user, it's not like they'll be of any use to us."

"Not exactly. I meant the two children didn't know anything about the chain user." Pakunoda turned away from the group, moving her hand to point towards you. "She is a different story."

XxXxX

Have you ever heard someone argue about whether to use their heart or their head?

The two are very different, even though they both come from the same consciousness, something you had been taught to take advantage of, courtesy of Wing.

Kurapika had already informed you of his suspicions about some Troupe member possessing telepathic abilities.

But you didn't expect to be subjected to them so soon.

Pakunoda

It had to be her. The confidence and intellect told you everything you needed to know.

Thankfully, you were correct.

"What do you mean, Paku?" Shizuku stood up in surprise.

"I'm not sure. It's not that she has or hasn't any memories of the chain user. The thing is, I can't see any of them."

"What? How is that possible?"

"I'm not sure." The blonde turned toward you in question, seemingly calm eyes oozing with curiosity. "So, tell us then."

"It's my nen. It's subconscious. I can't control it. If you're a mind reader, there's pretty much nothing you can do." You answered.

Only half a lie.

“Pakunoda doesn't read minds. She reads memories."

Shit.

The card held against your jugular began to press inward, drawing a small line of blood that trailed down to your chest. When you didn't continue, his fingers snaked around your neck and started to squeeze.

Hard.

"Emotional control. That's my ability." You gasped and felt his hand release your windpipe enough to talk, not even noticing that your feet were floating above the ground by a few inches from your captors hold. "My nen subconsciously begins to confuse the other person when it senses any telepathic related techniques."

Again, not an entire lie.

You had come across some mind readers during your short time as a nen user and had also realized how valuable and dangerous your memories could be.

Kurta eyes could sell on the black market for billions of yen.

You were basically a walking trust fund.

So you relied on Thought Distortion, another nen ability that completely overwhelms an individual with emotions, so much so that they aren't able to form any sort of coherent thought. It was similar to the idea that was described as 'pure bliss' in stories. Instead of thinking in actual sentences, the person in question would simply feel.

This could be used on regular people, but it also worked on most mind readers since they needed to actually hear the thoughts themselves to get what they needed.

So when Pakunoda had gently placed a hand on your exposed shoulder in the car, she had been unsatisfied with her findings.

Not because your memories displeased her, but because she couldn't read them at all.

The usually clear stream of thought that ran through her mind when she used her ability was overrun by a surge of emotions, sending random images and words of relation around her head. Since you were feeling panicked the time and she had made physical contact, what she felt was panic as well, only intensified to the nth power.

The ability had the potential to make people go insane, but the woman merely frowned and fell back into her seat.

Present day Pakunoda nodded at your explanation. "She's not lying about that. Her memories weren't silent, my train of thought was just too intense to actually hear them at the time."

"Then tell her to turn it off." Feitan had continually grown more and more angry as your responses continued, the emotional power almost too intense for his physical size.

"I said I can't."

"Hisoka. Drop her."

At Nobunaga's request, the man dropped his hold on your throat, allowing you to fall to the floor and catch your breath.

"Listen to me, girl." Nobunaga pushed your shoulder back to face him. Any more force and he would've dislocated it. "If you know anything about the chain user, I'm going to kill you and your little friends can watch."

Damn, that sounds kinda familiar.

"So, what do we do?

"We keep the girl."

Shalnark nodded at Feitan's response, your heart dropping. "Alright. Well, since our only target is the chain user, we can let the kids go if they don't know anything, right?"

"No." Nobunaga looked up from his place on the rock and turned to Gon. "Tell me, boy, would you like to join us?"

"No." Gon replied without hesitation. "I'd rather die than join you!"

A smile broke out onto the man's face. "Wow, you really must hate us? Are you an Enhancer?"

"So what if I am?"

Gon stiffened up at the question. Nobunaga on the other hand, began to laugh, his shrill chuckle bouncing off the walls of the building. "I had a feeling you'd say that. We're keeping them here until the boss gets back, along with the girl. I'm nominating him."

"What?"

"The boss will never accept that."

"Let him do what he wants." Machi replied. "But he can babysit them. It's on him if they escape."

"And the girl? I can make her talk if you want me to..."

Fuck.

What had the little one said? 'I'll start with a nail...'

"No, we wait for the boss." Machi's response seemed to make Feitan frown, a small amount of disappointment flowing through his aura. "We'll decide what to do with her then. Nobunaga can watch her as well while we continue our search."

XxXxX

"Really? He reminds you of Uvo?"

"Yeah. He wears his emotions right on his sleeve. And when he's mad, he forgets about the consequences." Nobunaga looked down in thought at Shizuku's question. "But the thing that makes them most similar is he's at his absolute strongest when he's fighting for someone else. Uvo would never admit it, but I think he liked having someone there to protect."

"Enough reminiscing. Let's get down to business." Shalnark lifted a piece of paper that displayed the pictures of multiple Nostrade bodyguards, motioning for the others to do the same. "The boys don't have any ideas about the identity of the chain user, so we're going to find someone to does."

"And the girl?"

"I'm not exactly sure about her yet, but we're keeping her for further questioning until the boss gets back, regardless of what Nobunaga wants to do with the boys." He lifted a hand to his chin in thought. "She does seem pretty genuine. If she's lying, she's a good actress. What do you think Pakunoda?"

"I'm not sure." The blonde shook her head. "But I'm curious as well. Either way, her abilities could be of use to us even if she doesn't know about the chain user."

"Alright, that's settled then!" Shalnark clapped his hands, a bright smile on his face as per usual. "Everyone split up into teams and tag the workers on this list for any information. We can interrogate the girl when the boss gets back."

[famousaft3rdeath]

i can't quite process everything this quickly.

it feels like everything is going a million miles a minute and as soon as i get one sandcastle built a tsunami comes and wipes it out.

i know i'm replacing a vice for a vice. i'm very wary of them all. the only vices i really want are drugs and self harm but yknow, cant do much of those internationally.

i can't keep dragging everyone else down with me. this is a sentiment i've repeated my entire conscious life, yet i've never abided. of course the one time i find a nice, normal guy, i'm in one of the most chaotic places i've ever been. such is life. i really just need to be alone. i tend to jump from guy to guy, begging for validation wherever i can get it, falling hard and fast until there is nothing there to catch me.

truthfully, i'm not sure i want anything to catch me anymore. it may be better for me to just close my eyes and jump into the abyss, ending up wherever i end up. i'm still considering ending things when i get home. it would be a lot easier, and a lot less expensive. i'm no longer in the angry, intense, weepy depression i've been in for the last few weeks. now it's just an acceptance. i have no goals, no passions, no reason to be here. plain and simple. people would get over it. i did. builds character, i think.

of course, there's the elephant-in-the-room reason. the angsty 13-year-old reason. revenge. "then they'll all be sorry." of course, it's just him. and i'm not even sure that he'd be sorry. i don't know that he would care at all. he doesn't care about me now, i know that for a fact. if he cared, he wouldn't have abandoned me like he did. i have no doubt in my mind that we'll never speak again. so a part of me, a larger part than i'd like to admit, wants to die just to make him feel like shit. he would 100% think it was his fault. and it partially would be. there's always the chance, though, that i'll do it and he won't care, and i'll never know. i do wish there was an afterlife, just so i can know if i made a mistake after it happens. it's so stupidly selfish, i know. i tend to be like that. maybe it would be better to keep everyone else from me. break their hearts once then never again. this may be the best course of action.

truthfully i don't know what's best. i never have. i've always been a planner: this is where i'll go to school, this is what my degree will be in, this is where i'll move after i graduate, i'll have a house by x age and retire by x year. of course, things never go as planned. why would they?

i've warned everyone, i think. said things not worrying enough to warrant action, but enough to raise some flags. not too much, obviously. but enough. that way if i do decide to do it, no one can say they didn't see it coming. everyone should see it coming at this point. i don't even know that it would make things that much worse for anyone. they all know it's coming. everyone except my father, i think, but my death would make his life so much easier that i think it would be fine. i am a sunk cost. he's put in too much time and money now to reconcile with the fact that it wasn't worth it. that i failed. that everything they both did was in vain.

i don't think i've ever felt like more of a failure in my life. i always have, at least a little bit, but no more than i do right now. i am disappointing everyone. not in a woe-is-me, everything is terrible way. just a fact. i've never once lived up to expectations, including my own. so what's the point in trying anymore?

[rosalynnpup]

I think the "Bunni-Kirby" feud is QOM's fault. Call me a tinfoil hat conspiracy-theorist.

I don't think Bunni is ever intentionally trying to piss Kirby/Eden off, but I think Queen pushed him into a corner of paranoia. It doesn't excuse how Kirby's acted, but I can honestly more or less understand why he lashes out easier than if she didn't.

She's admitted to stalking his private accounts and even goes so far as to find ways for other people to spy on him and encourages it. I can't blame Eden for his guard being up 24/7, and I'm hoping this conversation you two have can maybe settle this shit.

Even if no one ends up as friends in the end I just pray to God this can settle waters. I've seen people pretend to be his friend to get information out of him at one point and it made me sick inside. And they admitted openly to doing it.

And while I don't know the ins-and-outs of Liebe and Kirby, I side with Kirby. His story doesn't change, which was a red flag that this is real to me. And his document about the situation has a lot of disturbing evidence behind what kind of a person Liebe is behind closed doors. If the document doesn't trigger you, I implore you read it if you haven't. It's damning.

Sorry if I'm rambling, I've just been distressed seeing someone who's expressed graphic abuse be tormented openly by his abuser and with QOM's assistance. It's made me feel sick, because I have my own trauma similar.

Apparently, when Liebe regained internet access his first instinct even was to sexually harass Kirby publicly. That was a huge red flag to me of a classic abuser retaliating at their victim.

P.S. my b on getting back late, worked a late shift and just got off a bit ago. I need to pass out soon may not respond for a bit again. But, I hope the best of this for all sides.

Gosh I am so bad at reading, let me try and answer this point by point the best I can. 1. I don't think you are a conspiracy theorist, but even I am unsure how their feud started. I don't think it is really any of my business either unless one of them wants to speak about their side of the story. 2. I will be fully honest, I always kept an eye on his page. I was overly obsessed with keeping an eye on him. It was unhealthy are wrong of me. I eventually came to the conclusion with my therapist that this is only feeding into my issues with paranoia and could also be triggering to Eden. I backed off and realized that I let him be. He deserves the space just as much as I do. 3. I have read the document. I wont be reading it again. I have triggers with some of the topics spoken about in his retelling and don't wish to relapse in my own issues. I only truly know Eden's side. I only have heard bits and pieces of L*ebe's, but that's only because Spoken posts about it a lot. I hope he can heal from everything that he went through. 4. It's okay to ramble, I'm here to listen! You are valid in the way you feel, especially if you are being triggered by this situation. I myself was stalked by a small group of people for a while on twitter because they didn't like me. They watched my every move. This is another thing my therapist brought up with me. If I know how it feels, why would I make someone feel the same? 5. I never saw what happened with that, so if that is the case, that's a big yikes from me. I would block L*ebe, but I don't know their handles. Even if none of what Eden said happened, coming out and doing shit like that definitely doesn't help the situation. That only makes L*ebe look worse. ALSO! If he doesn't go by Eden anymore, I apologize! I know for a bit he started to go by Eden again, but if that isn't the case anymore, I'll revert back to Kirby. I don't want to make any party uncomfortable.

[1863-project]

emmet brings up safety checks quite a bit. do you happen to know what those involve doing?

Yes! I can speak to it more now that I've actually driven a locomotive once.

When operating a train, you're in constant communication with the rest of the crew, and you have to be intensely aware of your surroundings. The locomotive I've worked with, Strasburg #90, weighs 212,000 pounds. That's 106 tons of steel. And that's not factoring in her tender! 90 could get up to 50 mph in her days hauling freight in Colorado (and probably still could if she was allowed to at Strasburg, since they take such great care of her).

So imagine this. You've got something that weighs 106 tons going at 50 mph. Behind it are a bunch of cars laden with goods (in 90's case, she pulled sugar beet trains). You are NOT going to be able to stop on a dime. That's why trains require constant communication with both the entire crew and signalpeople and dispatchers along the line - to make sure traffic flow is kept clear and to warn of any incidents well in advance that would require the engineer to stop the train. Stopping #90 was a multi-step process - I first had to close her throttle down, and then I had to ease on her brake until she came to a stop. It wasn't instantaneous, like it would have been in a car. We came to a rolling stop. No matter how modern or efficient your train is, you're not going to be able to jam on the brakes that way.

I wasn't allowed to take any photos in the cab (safety, again), but here's two shots of me driving her backwards:

Note that I am a) verrrry focused on what I'm doing and extremely serious about it and b) leaning out the cab window for increased visibility. The door in the front of 90's cab was open, too, which helped me see further out the front, but when it comes to going backwards, I had to lean out the cab window. Steam locomotives actually usually have cushioned arm rests in the windows because engineers have to lean out the window going forward and backward.

Staying in communication has gotten a lot easier with modern technology. Although she was built in 1924, 90 has a radio installed, so the engineer overseeing me driving and a conductor were in constant communication, with the conductor reporting distances in terms of car lengths so those of us in the cab knew when to cut the speed. He was an extra pair of eyes on the back of the train. On longer trains, you'll usually have a team of people working under the head conductor to do this, including brakemen, who historically would use flag and lantern signals to send information up to the head conductor and engineer. Nowadays, we have radios, but on heritage railways, these signals survive in places. I try to learn Strasburg's hand signals whenever I'm there, just in case I need them. They're helpful, especially since steam locomotives are quite loud!

These days, trains usually have something called Positive Train Control, which basically sends the train information about where it can travel safely, how fast it can do so, etc. If you see a steam locomotive doing a mainline excursion and it has a diesel behind it, the diesel is likely providing Positive Train Control for the train (as well as power to air conditioning for passenger cars, etc.). In terms of pulling the train, the steam locomotive won't need the diesel's help - it's significantly more powerful. But in terms of staying in touch, that's where it comes in handy. Union Pacific Big Boy 4014 has actually been fitted with PTC, because Ed Dickens is a fucking steam god and I want to be as cool as he is someday.

Before you take off, you need to go through and make sure everything's in working order, too. The system of pointing and calling is an effective way to do this, and it helps improve your muscle memory, to boot. By verbally stating each task as you go through it and check to make sure each step is done in the right order and everything is functioning, you don't miss them or skip over things, you don't rush, and you're more likely to notice if something isn't right. In the NYC Subway, we have these things called zebra signs (or should that be Zebstrika signs?) at each station above the platform. They mark the specific spot on each platform that the train needs to stop at. When the train stops, the engineer should have it lined up so that the car the conductor is in is lined up with the sign, and the conductor confirms this by opening their window and pointing at the sign in acknowledgement. Once you know they're doing it you can start watching for them doing it, or, you know, stand under the sign and hold up funny signs for them that they're legally required to point at.

So Emmet bringing this up isn’t just an off-handed thing. This is a legitimate and extremely important aspect of his job, especially since he and his brother work with moving passengers in a densely populated city. There’s a lot of extra safety things to be concerned with regarding passengers - their safety needs to be ensured if there’s an emergency, the train gets stuck in a tunnel and they have to be evacuated, etc. You have to know exactly how to handle those situations, and you have to be prepared if they do come up, but you also shouldn’t usually get to that point because you already made sure the passengers were kept safe because you followed signals and scheduling.

A quick, tl;dr version would be something like this:

Before you even get into the train, check the locomotive and cars to make sure they’re serviceable (on steam locomotives, this involves the engineer oiling the wheels, etc.)

Once in the cab of the locomotive, go through the operating procedure to start driving

Do NOT start driving without signaling that you’re going to move. Usually that’s two short whistles if you’re going forward or three short whistles if you’re going backwards. This gives people time to get out of the way. You’ll also ring the bell when you start moving, too.

Stay in constant communication with the crew and keep an eye on your surroundings.

At a crossing, you have to whistle AND ring the bell to give cars and pedestrians a clear warning that you’re coming (whistle pattern is long-long-short-long). Repeat as necessary until you hit the crossing.

GIVE YOURSELF TIME TO STOP. This one’s crucial. You can’t stop right away, you’re moving too much weight to do so.

Follow any light signals you receive, as they’re a good well-in-advance warning of any issues, and make sure your radio is working all the time. If you lose that communication, you’re in trouble.

Don’t be this guy. (Okay, this one is a joke, it’s a VHS I grew up with as a little kid. But seriously, don’t be this guy.)

Hopefully this makes some sense, anon!

[wordstro]

[5] post apocalypse + ex! san + "lucky you. i only allow one escape attempt before i start chopping off limbs."

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: 5k words, a bit of violence and implied death/torture (not main character death), there's also just a lot of anxious feelings, so be careful there pls! gender neutral as always!

-

"you'd be surprised how many dead people i've found in bathtubs lately. someone should really look into it."

the man stops twirling his knife, leaning too close. you scoot away from him, until your back hits the cold surface of the tub, but the man does not seem to get the hint. his grin does not falter. he merely raises a delicate brow, waiting. as if he expects a response.

you stare.

he narrows his eyes.

"what," you clear your throat, "what do you want?"

the man eyes you for a moment too long, his sharp dark eyes skipping over your face, down your body, sizing you up.

then he flips the knife in his fingers before sheathing it in the holder wrapped around his waist, and he holds out a hand, fingers outstretched.

you stare in disbelief at the gesture.

your eyes dart to the open door behind him. aside from the knife, the man had nothing else too advantageous. he's shorter, a bit thin in appearance. easy to shove at and run away from. if you played along, you could -

"assuming you somehow got past me - doubtful, but there's always a very slim chance," he rolls his eyes and you wince at the fact that he seems to know what you're thinking, "you really think i'd be out here alone? in these conditions?"

he clicks his tongue and then wiggles his fingers at you, the movement erratic. impatient.

you examine his features, his high, sharp cheekbones and dark eyes, and you don't like how you can't figure him out. he's weird. he's clearly unstable. he has a knife. only god knows how long he'd been hovering above you with the damn thing, waiting for you to wake up. that thought makes you suppress a shudder. one thing you do know: he is dangerous. even without the glaring orange flag, he radiates the kind of energy you used to cross the street to avoid.

"so are you going to sit here all day? or come with us?"

he emphasizes the us with a lopsided grin and another wiggle of his fingers. you decide now is the time to think about self-preservation, at least until you can find a way out of this situation. it's easier to trick him into lowering his guard if you act complacent. at least you hope so.

so you slowly place your hand in his. he yanks you up and out of the tub. you stumble, but he doesn't seem to care, merely lets go of your hand and rakes his eyes over you, sizing you up the way a predator sizes up prey, the hairs at the back of your neck standing on end.

he gestures towards the door, "you first."

you blink.

"like i said," he reminds you, still smiling, dark eyes unwavering, "i'm not here alone. you wouldn't even make it a meter out that door if you tried to run."

so, you walk.

and when you step down the apartment building stairs - the place used be an older apartment building with a winding stairwell that clearly never had any upkeep - dodging the EXIT sign hanging by a single wire as you exited the way you'd come the afternoon before, you're met by one other man, with black hair shaved at the sides and a gaze darker than the man behind you. somehow, he's more terrifying than the other man and you're almost glad he'd warned you not to try to run. this man, with his heavy gaze and the long butcher knives hooked his back, would skin you alive without a second thought.

behind him is an old pickup truck, a man sitting in the driver's seat and smoking a cigarette. every single alarm bell in your head is shouting at you. you'd learn Before that you should never let kidnappers take you to a secondary location, however, that advice had been during a time when your world wasn't ghost town after ghost town. you could die trying. but, for some god-forsaken reason, you've been hellbent on surviving. for what? you did not know. but every cell in your body lit up in anticipation, especially when the man behind you shoved you forward.

the dark haired man in front of you tilts his head as he sizes you up. then his gaze flits over your shoulder, "that's it?"

"this is the first person we've found in a month. i think this is pretty good, seonghwa."

the dark haired man - seonghwa - grimaces, "whatever."

he waves a hand. the man in the truck gets out. he can't be much older than you, a scar running across his cheek. a plume of smoke curls around him before he flicks the bud to the dirt and grinds with the heel of his dirty sneakers. they would have been a coveted pair back Before, the kind people stood in line for. jordans, you think. the details flood through your vision. the way he pulls out a sack. the way he steps towards you. the way seonghwa merely watches. the way you can feel the other man hovering behind you.

the man in the ratty jordans gets close - an arms length away - and that's when you reach into your boot and yank out wooyoung's knife. you swing, blindly, but you don't care. you need to survive. stupid as it is. with the sun blazing down on you and those things fluttering between the clouds, you want to survive. there's blood, a yell, and the man in the ratty jordans keels on the floor, clutches his stomach, and you let out a loud laugh, more shocked than anything. there's blood on your hands. again. a hand yanks at your elbow. you spin, knocking him off you. the man who had found you in the bathtub meets your gaze when you lift the knife. his gaze drops to wooyoung's knife and his eyes widen. he freezes for much too long. you lunge, but he composes himself to quickly for you. you're thrown to the ground, landing so hard the breath is knocked from you and you see black stars, the kind of night sky you hadn't seen in ages because of the monsters that roam the night. suddenly there's a weight on your chest. you blink away the stars and the numbness in your limbs but the weight is so heavy, you can barely breathe.

the man you'd lunged at stares down at you, his hair hanging to the side, his eyes narrowed. there's a cut on his chin, shallow but still bloody. blood drips from it as he bends over you, replacing his foot with his knee, all his weight on top of you. you gasp for air, but he does not let up. the blood on his chin drips onto your cheek.

he plucks the knife from your limp fingers, flips it over, as he examines it. then he holds it out. seonghwa appears above you. he plucks the knife from your hand, observes it in the same fashion. then he smiles. somehow, the way his smile softens his features is more terrifying. it's humanizing, and it makes you wonder how someone so handsome and human and kind-looking, could do something like this.

"gonna minimize my loot again, hwa?" he asks. you try to shove his knee off you, but that only makes him add more pressure.

"looks like you'll kill them before i can, hongjoong."

the man - hongjoong - chuckles, but he lets up and you sputter for air, rolling onto your side.

hongjoong merely squats at your side, waiting for you to catch your breath. he looms and you realize that you're fucked. you're so fucking fucked.

you look at him. hongjoong leans close, elbows resting on his knees, and he says, "do you have any other weapons on you i should be worried about?"

you shake your head.

"lucky you. i usually allow one escape attempt before i start chopping off limbs." hongjoong tosses a brown burlap sack at your face. it's rough, the kind potatoes would come in. you wince. he says, "so, put this over your head and let's get you home."

and, you do. that's the worst part. your fingers tremble and hongjoong smiling serenely at you is the last thing you see before you tug the musty burlap sack over your head. the word home rings in your head, and that is what terrifies you most.

when you stand up, blind as bat, someone ties your hands behind your back. your stomach churns with the terror growing inside of you.

~.~.~.~.~

"and we're here."

you'd spent the car ride trying to decipher how many turns the car had taken, but everything was distorted and the sharp turns did not help. when the car finally came to a screeching halt, jerking you into the seat in front of you, your heart started to race so hard, you thought it would dig its way out. you're an idiot. you should have heeded wooyoung's words and gotten the hell out of town as soon as you stepped out of their bunker. instead, you're about to be subjected to god-knows-what, and you almost wish they let san toss you out to the alien monsters in the fog instead of whatever the hell hongjoong and seonghwa planned to do to you.

the burlap sack is yanked off. you shake away the hair, glancing around, but all you're met with is a line of trucks. you look back and realize -

"no going back now," hongjoong grins, patting your back roughly.

behind you is a wall, made of metal and cement. it stretches on to the left and right, curving inwards, and there are are towers with men and women holding weapons. it's a jail, you realize, glancing up at the barbed wire at the top of the wall. somehow, they seized a jail, and there was no way in, let alone a way out.

your gaze falls on seonghwa, who only seems to be observing you. the man you'd attacked is being led away, most likely for medical attention.

you half expect he'll toss you in a cell with rats for companions and call it a day. from what wooyoung alluded to, that may even be a kinder fate.

but then hongjoong says, "let's give you a tour."

seonghwa rolls his eyes, "i'll meet you in the west wing then."

and then you're left alone with hongjoong.

~.~.~.~.~

he does in fact give you a tour, like an eccentric tour guide, and the orange bandana almost makes sense.

the community itself - somehow you'd imagined this torture chamber, when in fact it's just...a secured living space - is nice, almost. it's nothing like you expected. jail cells were converted into living spaces and as you walk around, you spot a handful of greenhouses and gardens. there's a dining hall. there are men and women, young and old, and even a few children. they bow to hongjoong as you pass.

"here is the west wing." he leads you into a building with high ceilings and a faded painting of a hammer and fist painted on the wall. he gestures down a dark hall, where a wooden door sits.

you follow him, and your footsteps echo as you walk. outside, the sun shone down, and the casual shouting among everyone reminded you of Before. you hadn't seen that many people, that many alive, since Before. that overwhelming feeling you'd had the bunker with san creeps over your skin, but you refuse to let yourself feel it. not with your kidnapper.

he pushes the door open and the room is clean, quiet, but the jail cells are finally there. there are cots in each jail cell, complete with white sheets, a pillow, and a small toilet and sink. there's no blood. no one being torn limb from limb. nothing you'd imagined on your way here.

your fingers tremble at your sides still. you say, "please let me go."

"aren't you hungry?" hongjoong asks.

you shake your head.

hongjoong nods, stepping around you, deeper into the room. he taps a long finger against one of the steel jail bars. ding.

"seonghwa should be here soon."

another step. another tap against the steel bars. ding.

you'd seen the sleeping quarters and the people and the dining hall and the baskets filled with bread and vegetables that had your stomach growling shamelessly. you'd seen it.

step. ding.

but, you'd seen the way the people bowed at hongjoong and scurried away. the voices were loud, but there was a wave of quiet as you both passed by. no one glanced twice at you, hands tied behind your back as hongjoong led you around like a dog.

almost like they were used to prisoners getting the grand tour. almost like they were scared of hongjoong.

step. ding.

you'd seen the men and women walking around with weapons strapped to them the way seonghwa had, eyes observant. were they protecting them? or keeping them in line? the children you had seen do not laugh. was that because of the aliens outside? or something else?

"i'm not stupid."

the words spill from your lips without fully thinking your words through.

step. ding.

"is that so?"

"look," your fingers dig into each other, "i don't know what kind of game this is, and i don't care to find out. i don't want any part in this."

he stops stepping around the room, merely pauses and stares at you. his smile drops and his eyes narrow and he says, "you made yourself a part of this the moment you pulled that knife."

"you would fight back too if you were in this situation."

"oh," hongjoong snorts. taps the steel bars once more, "you are stupid."

"i don't -"

"where did you get the knife?"

"excuse me?"

that's when hongjoong steps towards you. you step away, but he only steps closer and closer, crowding you, until your back is pressed to the steel bars of a jail cell. he leans so close, you can feel his breath on your skin. you can see the rage seething in his dark eyes. he bites out, "who the fuck gave you that knife?"

wooyoung's name nearly spills from your lips before you remember what he'd told you about yeosang and mingi. maybe you should have snitched. in this world, it shouldn't matter. wooyoung had robbed you. san had berated you for trusting them so easily. so you should give them up just as easily. but, you can't do it. you cannot do it.

"who?" hongjoong whispers.

"i don't know."

that's when hongjoong barks out a loud laugh. you jump at the sudden sound. "you're stupid and a liar."

there's a cough behind you, loud and clear, but hongjoong does not step away from you. you glimpse seonghwa, arms crossed as he peers at you both.

"why the hell does it matter?"

"because he would never give this knife away to just anyone." hongjoong says, "so you must be someone."

his tone is sinister, filled with a type of anger that makes you wish the steel bars behind you was between you both.

you don't like it. you don't like this. so you shove him. he stumbles.

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"hongjoong, leave our poor guest alone." seonghwa's voice is melodic, the opposite of his appearance.

hongjoong tosses a glare at seonghwa, but he complies, stepping away from you.

"now, I'm sure you have questions - "

"that's a fucking understatement."

seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring your interruption " - and you'll have to earn the answers, like everyone else here. welcome to - "

"earn?"

" - the sanctuary. we have food, a warm place to sleep, companionship, and most importantly safety from the fog. i expect - "

"no."

this time seonghwa acknowledges your interruption. he raises a brow. "no?"

"you both kidnapped me and now you're expecting me to stay here. to work? i don't even want to fucking be here."

"you can leave if you answer hongjoong's question."

you blink, "i-"

"we never said you can't leave. in fact, anyone who does not earn their keep leaves. those are the conditions we have here. slack off or break a rule and you need to leave with that night's shipment."

"then - "

"before you decide, i think you'd like to see what that means, wouldn't you?"

his tone is pointed, but his gaze is unwavering. something tells you that you do, something that has goosebumps curling up your skin.

~.~.~.~.~

seonghwa and hongjoong remain polite, and it is unsettling. even as they lead you to the dining room and give you a heaping plate of food. you haven't seen a peach in ages, but as you stare at the juicy slices on your plate, your stomach only grows more knotted.

"you won't eat this?" hongjoong asks.

you shake your head.

hongjoong just smiles and looks at seonghwa, and that unsettles you more.

hongjoong disappears after the meal and seonghwa leads you into a tiny library across the yard. filled to the brim with books and cushions to lounge on.

seonghwa sits in silence across from you.

you twiddle your thumbs, even try to read, before you finally whisper, "what is the point of this? are you trying to convince me to stay? is that it?"

you think, for a moment, that seonghwa won't answer. he finishes his page before he dog-ears the page and shuts it quietly. he looks up at you. "tonight's shipment will be held at the gates. i always have our guests attend before they decide if they'd like to leave the next night."

"i'm not your guest though. i don't know what kind of strange god complex you have, but this isn't right. this isn't fair."

"this isn't about you."

that brings you to a halt. "is this about the knife?"

"partially," seonghwa shrugs, "i don't care much for vengeance but hongjoong lives for it. this, however, is about survival. your individual feelings do not matter when it comes to the well-being of my people. for now, you are a guest and i am treating you as such. as soon as that status is revoked, you can do whatever you wish." seonghwa lifts the book once more, "but so can everyone else."

you stare at him in disbelief, "that sounds like a threat."

"it's a warning. your first warning."

~.~.~.~.~

you don't feel comfortable being outside in the dark. who would after everything? anxiety curls in your stomach, until you feel nauseous, but seonghwa stands tall and strides outside as the sun is setting as if this is Before and everything is fine. you follow after him, down a trodden path, the otherwise green grass crushed into brown dirt and rocks. you're not the only ones headed this way, and no one spares you a glance as they hurry to wherever you're headed. there's a buzz in the air, excitement almost, and even the hushed voices around you are filled with laughter. it's the same feeling you used to get when you'd line up for concerts. it's strange. you hate it.

the setting sun sends chills down your back, and as the evening turns to dusk, you wring at your clothes.

seonghwa glances sideways at you, his eyes flickering to your hands.

"where are we going?"

"we're going to watch the shipment leave."

you don't voice that that explains nothing, still wringing your hands.

you finally end up in front of the gates where you'd first arrived, but this time there are fairy lights set up and benches, beside a shed that connects into a big building. hongjoong never gave you a tour of that section of the community. at the front a truck is running, cloth thrown over the back. seonghwa takes a seat at the front, and you follow him, sitting beside him.

you feel like there's a giant target on your back. this isn't normal. any minute now, the sun will set and the fog will arrive and whatever the hell those aliens hid in the fog will take all of you.

hongjoong sits on your other side. you jump.

he snorts, "nervous?"

you shake your head.

"you really are a liar," he laughs.

the sun fully sets, and all that is left is darkness. you can't help but glance at the moon, and the shadows of things hanging in the sky is so prominent, you think you'll cry.

seonghwa calls from beside you, "thank you for joining us everyone. tonight is our 422nd shipment. please bring in tonight's shipment."

the shed door opens, and a long haired woman with a rifle steps out, walking backwards. slowly, one by one, four people in chains step out, surrounded by guards prodding them with weapons. two of them are sobbing silently, shaking their head as they stumble, one of them just stares straight ahead, like a zombie. or drugged out. you don't know. you can't tell from here. the one in the front is smiling, eyes glassy, staring straight ahead. their ankles and arms are chained together and the rattle of the chains echoes all around them. it takes you a minute to realize one of the sobbing ones is a child, barely a teenager. your fingers curl into fists in your lap.

"keep looking," hongjoong murmurs and he is leaning close, his words right against your ear. "the hands, the feet, the ears. look closely."

you count three fingers on one. one ear on the other, the child. just one foot on the other, the one stumbling.

holy shit.

your ears are ringing as you stare at them, as you try to register the words coming out of seonghwa's mouth as he stands. something about stealing extra bread. something about interrupting his teacher for months. something about lying. the audience is enraptured. you don't see anyone angry. no tears. just staring in awe. just nodding at seonghwa's words.

"what the fuck?" you whisper.

hongjoong puts his arm over your shoulder, weighs you down as he leans close, and he says, "i don't recommend making a scene. just watch."

you can't even get yourself to move, let alone say something of substantial volume, but you watch as they open the gates just a sliver, just enough to see into the pitch darkness. there are trees there.

seonghwa gets up, goes to them, and he presses a kiss to each of their foreheads and you think you're going to be sick. with the pressure of hongjoong's arm over your shoulders and the look of reverence on everyone's faces. wooyoung's words echo in your head. this is the place that is worse than the fucking aliens. and you have a feeling you haven't even witnessed the worst of it.

they leave and one of them looks back through the gates once more, and you meet their glassy eyes, the proud smile, and -

the gates slam shut.

~.~.~.~.~

"do you want a tour?"

you shake your head.

hongjoong holds your hand, and his grip is almost kind this time, as he pulls you towards the shed the 'shipment' had come out of. you can hear laughter and dancing, the crackles of old radios playing music from behind you. they're celebrating.

you glance back, but seonghwa blocks your view as he trails after you and hongjoong. the shed is dark and cold and you are filled with the kind of horror that buries itself into the bones and grows, like flora its roots crawl into every crook and crevice, and it takes you too long to realize that this is invasive and it will take over sooner rather than later. that it will ruin you. that you cannot escape.

he opens a metal door, and you're in a quiet room filled with jail cells. it's too dark to see into them, but there are rows upon rows of them.

at the front desk sits a man, not much older than you, with tanned skin and a scar running up his neck towards his jaw.

"this is jongho," hongjoong says. his eyes are on you as he tugs you forward by the wrist. "jongho cannot speak, but i'm certain he says hi back."

you glance at hongjoong, questioning.

seonghwa is the one to say, "he lost his tongue. for lying to me."

a shiver runs up your spine.

jongho stares at you, but his eyes aren't...dark. they're almost kind. they're worried.

you yank your wrist from hongjoong's grip, stepping away from all of them, and you can't help the tremble in your tone. you hate showing vulnerability, but maybe that's the only way to not end up locked in one of those cells or worse. "so what? i'm going to be a part of the next shipment?"

"only if you want to leave. and i can't guarantee you'll be in the next one. maybe in a couple months. depends on the list, really." seonghwa says.

"leaving isn't really a choice then."

"it is if you tell us where you got the knife from."

you could just say it. you doubt wooyoung, or even san, would do this for you if they were in your place. but you can't. despite everything, despite the world you're in, you cannot.

"no."

~.~.~.~.~

they don't toss you in a cell right then there. they take you back to the west wing and put you in one of those rooms, with a cot and a pillow, and they leave you there with a single lantern light on. it's cold and dark, and as you lay there, huddled in on yourself, all you see is the faces of those four people whenever you close your eyes.

you flip to your side and wince at something jabbing into your side. your fingers land on the radio you'd tucked away at your waist, under your clothes. they hadn't noticed it. maybe you are an idiot, for finding a sliver of hope in it, especially now, but you still do it. you still turn it on and set it to walkie talkie mode. you still clear your throat awkwardly, checking the room in case, and whisper into it. you are grasping for for straws and truly feel like an idiot right then.

the only walkie talkie channel you've ever had this radio set to was the one that paired with this one from back Before. to san.

it is a pipe dream to think that anything would happen.

yet, a part of you is still disappointed and scared and upset when nothing comes through. all that is left is silence. you try it once more. nothing. nothing at all.

you clip the radio back, and you curl onto your side on the hard cot. you try to settle the fear and hopelessness building inside of you. it's up to you to figure out how to get out of here. no one will come to rescue you. no one rescued you the day everything went to shit. no one will rescue you now. you know that.

you're scared of that, because you think you won't be enough this time. you were barely enough last time when you'd had you mother's blood on your hands.

just as you're drifting off into sleep, fingers still grasping the radio, you hear a soft static sound. you blink into the dark.

a soft voice fills the room, "hello?"

you scramble to your knees, reaching for the radio, your voice cracking, "san?"

"y/n?" it's not san's voice. that much you can tell. your eyes widen, and disappointment curls deep in your chest. still he keeps talking, says, "why the fuck are you still in range, y/n?"

your eyes widen in recognition.

it's yeosang. with san's radio.

-

[kingsuckjin]

Season of the Witch- TEASER

☾ Pairing: love triangle Taehyung x jimin x reader

☾ Genre: yandere, smut, horror, thriller

☾ Rating: 18+

☾ Warnings: STALKER SHIT, Tae is insane and has really dark and obsessive thoughts about Jimin, there’s some sexy stuff in here too, hints towards make oral sex and just sex, violent themes I guess and hits of murder.

☾ Summary: all Taehyung ever wanted was Jimin, and he had always done whatever it took to stop whatever or whoever got in his way, you were going to be no different. Surely Jimin didn’t love you as much as Taehyung loved him… right?

"So," Jimin sucked in a deep breath from across the table of the diner and nervously adjusted in his seat before looking across the table at his best friend. He wondered why he was so nervous, why he was dragging this out, why he thought Taehyung wouldn't understand.

"So, you brought me here to talk about something?" Taehyung cleared his voice, doing his best to try to hide his own nervousness and butterflies mixing in his stomach as he played with a little pink packet of sugar on the table.

"Since you're my best friend and I want you to know what's going on in my life..." Jimin's eyes flickered to his melting vanilla milkshake he no longer cared about. He felt like he needed to look at anything but Taehyung, just in case he had the same reaction as last time, although that was years ago when… Jimin refused to let his mind go back to it.

Taehyung bit at his lip and put down the sugar packet he had been playing with upon hearing Jimin's words. He looked down at the little chipped places in the diner table, chipped at by time itself. He knew now what was coming, and it wasn’t what he had wanted to hear… it wasn't going to be anything close to "I love you". He braced himself for the impact, heart ready to shatter into his ribcage and start sobbing in front of Jimin.

"I've- I've met this girl…" Jimin floundered at first, but the rest just slipped out of his mouth naturally as if he had been born to say these words "she's the one, Tae."

Jimin's sentence had come out in slow motion for Taehyung, as if the world wanted to drag this out just to hurt him more. Although Taehyung knew it had been coming seeing as Jimin had been quite distant recently, just like before, it still left Taehyung swallowing down the pain. A sad whimper too high and soft to be his own partially escaped his throat before Taehyung caught it, cut it off, and drowned it out by clearing his throat. He could feel how wide his eyes were, he felt his pulse quicken and blood heat to an uncomfortable level under his skin. He wanted to crawl out of his own outter flesh and slink away unnoticed by the man sitting across from him. He didn't know what to do, but he had to say something, so said the only thing he could think to say.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Jimin confirmed with a nod "you- you aren't going to say what you said last time?" Jimin furrowed his brows with worry.

Taehyung had been through so much with Jimin last time he had uttered these words to him. Jimin should've known better than to go and do this again, Taehyung shouldn't have to warn him again, Jimin should be scared, he should be too scarred to do this to Taehyung again. But would Taehyung say all of this to his friend? No. Warning him of the future heartbreak didn't work last time, it only made Jimin push Tae away and he wasn't about to make that mistake again… he didn't have to, this time around he was prepared, it would be easier now.

"Of course not." Taehyung sat up straighter in the diner booth and watched Jimin's surprised reaction. "It was wrong of me to say all of that last time, especially after what happened."

Jimin's face fell into a pout for a moment as he remembered but pushed it out of his mind. It still hurt him, but now at least he had you.

"You deserve to be happy and you deserve someone." Taehyung forced the best smile he could as he wished that someone was him. He had always wished that someone was him, ever since the both of them had been in high school. Taehyung said a silent prayer every night that one day Jimin would just come to his senses. Taehyung's mind drifted away to the time where he thought Jimin was almost his, the night it was so close he could taste it, he did taste it, he could still taste Jimin's sticky smooth peach schnapps flavored lips and tongue on his.

"-she's such a good dancer too. I can't wait for you to meet her." Taehyung had only caught the tail end of Jimin's rambling. Jimin's smile and enthusiasm when talking about someone that wasn’t him made that warmth in his veins turn into a fire in his stomach, Taehyung was angry. The muscles in hands clenched to try to hold himself together. His hands had felt so tight that they ripped the packet of sugar he had open that he hadn’t realized he had picked back up off the table.

Taehyung looked down at the little pile of sparkling sugar on the table that Jimin ignored as he went for a drink of his milkshake. He watched as his friend's lips wrap around the straw and thought about how perfect they would look and feel if they were wrapped around his-

Taehyung let his eyes fall back to the sugar on the table but that was no help either. He now thought about Jimin's lips coated in the tiny crystals, kissing him, tasting sweeter than the night they almost- Taehyung was sure he'd have a breakdown right here in this diner if he didn’t stop thinking about that night.

"How's the art stuff coming along?" Jimin decided to ask, he hadn't heard Taehyung talk about painting in a while now. He knew it had been Tae's favorite hobby since they were teenagaers, and he was good at it too.

Art stuff. Taehyung knew he didn't care about it, he didn’t even pretend to. Jimin didn't come to the first and last art show his paintings had been featured in. It was a disappointing blow to Taehyung, so disappointing that he gave it up.

"Yeah, I've been exploring other hobbies lately and haven't had time for it. Work and stuff too has been keeping me busy." It wasn't a lie, it was the truth, however Tae wasn't about to start naming his new "hobbies" Thankfully he didn't have too, Jimin's phone went off.

"Oh! Oh man, It doesn't feel like we were here that long does it? I've got to be at the dance studio in fifteen minutes." Jimin couldn’t help but smile as he said it, anytime he mentioned or thought of the dance studio at all now he couldn’t help but smile.

Jimin quickly held his hand up to flag down a waitress but Taehyung stopped him.

"I've got it, you're in a rush." Taehyung urged.

"Are you sure?" Jimin questioned "I'm the only one who ordered anyt-"

"It was just a milkshake. Just head out." Taehyung urged once again, forcing a boxy smile.

Jimin thanked his best friend with a cheerful crescent moon eyed smile that Taehyung would die to see everyday.

Once Jimin had left Taehyung grabbed a napkin from the napkin holder and in the blink of an eye, had stolen the straw from Jimin's half finished milkshake. Under the table, he wiped the excess milkshake from the straw, careful not to touch the end Jimin had put his lips on, and tucked it into his small bag he had brought along with him before flagging down a waitress and paying the bill.

Once Taehyung had gotten out to his car, what Jimin had told him began to catch up with him and really sink in past his bones and into his soul.

Jimin now had a girlfriend.

"Fuck." Taehyung muttered to himself and let his head fall onto the steering wheel. Was this it? Was it all too late? Taehyung should’ve been faster about making Jimin love him.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He let out as he slammed his head against the wheel a couple of times, anger and disappointment radiated through his body.

This wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to be like this ever again. Taehyung thought he had taught Jimin a lesson, that lesson being he shouldn't love anyone but him.

Taehyung was protecting Jimin. He was protecting him from his own self, not just from the heartbreak. He knew Jimin's heart was filled with warmth and love that he wanted to share, but why couldn't he just share it with Taehyung? Taehyung, the best friend who was always there for him. Taehyung, the man who strived to be everything Jimin wanted. Taehyung, who would, has and will kill for the man he loves.

Taehyung didn't know what you looked like yet, but he imagined the satisfaction of taking you down just like the girl before you.

He felt a smile grow and spread across his face.

He knew shouldn't be worried, it would be easier this time now that he's getting the hang of this black magic thing. It could be as easy as stomping an ant.

A laugh sounded throughout the quiet car and only grew louder and heavier the more he thought about your death.

Taehyung knew that in the end all you were would be another lesson, another reason for Jimin to never get close to anyone ever again, only him. It would always only be Taehyung, and he figured Jimin would have to learn that eventually.

[dragon-kazansky]

Familiar stranger | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @realremyd

Female Reader!

The moment is eyes had landed on you, so many things happened at once. He zoned out Sam and Bucky, he took a step away from you, his heart seemed to clench in his chest, and all he could think was 'it can't be.'

Right there in front of him was the spitting image of his wife. Well, maybe not exactly, but you did hold such a resemblance to her. It was like she was right there with him again.

You were looking at him. The others too, but it was you he found hard to look away from.

"Who are you?" He asks, needing to know if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Y/N."

A sigh of relief escaped him. Was he relieved though?

He was obviously making you uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you, so he turned his head away. Yet, your presence felt loud. He would never be able to look at you without seeing her.

It got worse.

In Madripoor you were required to wear a disguise. You were the last to come out in the clothes he had got for you, and once again he was struck by the sight of his wife.

Often they would both dress up and go out for the evening. The outfit he had chosen, though he wasn't sure if this was intentional or not, really made you resemble her all the more.

He couldn't take it.

Zemo avoided all eye contact with you. He focused his attention on the boys, finding it easier that way. Even when he stated your role in this he wouldn't look directly at you.

You wondered if you had done something to offend him, which kind of hurt. You always did your best to get on with anyone you worked with, but obviously that wasn't happening here.

Perhaps it was best to stay out of his way.

Things took a turn: a bounty was placed on your heads because of the death of Selby, all of Madripoor was coming for you, and Sharon popped out of nowhere to rescue you.

Back at her place, you changed into something less flashy. You wanted to tone down the outfit a bit and wear something a little more you.

Zemo couldn't help thinking that you looked much better this way. Though he still saw his wife's face, you looked more like you. You suited you.

Down in the club it was easy to avoid you. Zemo blended into the crowd... kind of, and you stuck to the other side, enjoying your own time here.

You left before all of them.

When the boys left the club and went back upstairs, they found you sleeping on the sofa. You had kicked off your shoes and, obviously, made yourself comfortable.

He couldn't look away.

Zemo sat down near by and looked at you. This was a good chance to look at you without making you uncomfortable.

"How can you look so much like her, yet be so different too?" He whispered the question.

Not really realising what he was doing, he tucks some hair away from your face. You can't possibly be all that comfortable or warm here. Not wanting to overstep any boundaries by carrying you to your room, he gently lifts your head enough to put a cushion under it. He then grabs his coat and drapes it over you gently.

He leaves you to sleep in peace.

You wake up rather slowly. You had been extremely tired when you got back last night. You had enough fun in the club and excused yourself, passing Bucky on the way out.

You sit up. The coat falls from your shoulders and into your lap.

Zemo's coat.

You blink away any tiredness to examine it, running your fingers across the fur. It was soft.

Why did you have his coat?

It dawned on you that he must have out it there himself. No one else would touch it otherwise.

It smells like him.

You look up when you hear someone approaching. It's the man himself. He stops like a deer in headlights when your eyes meet his. Before he can turn around and leave, yoy call out to him.

"Wait!"

He stays standing, looking at you curiously. It still hurts to look at you, but your voice is so much different, it makes him remember who he is looking at.

"Thank you."

He looks at the way you're holding his coat. The way your have a hand resting over the fur collar, clearly finding the feel of it satisfying.

For some reason that pleased him.

"You're welcome."

You smile. It's not her smile. It's your smile. He likes it.

You stand up and hold his coat carefully, taking the utmost care in handling it. You held it out to him when you stopped a little closer to him.

He takes it. His eyes never leave you. This is the longest he has looked at you at any one moment.

You're still smiling.

"I have to ask," you begin, "have I done something to offend you?"

His lips part ever so slightly as be tilts his head a tiny bit.

"Offend me?"

"Yes. This is the most you've looked at me since we met. You don't really talk to me and you seem to avoid me when possible." You gaze down at the floor.

He can hear the disappointment in your voice. He can see the way your hands fidget in front if you.

It seemed to really bother you that he was avoiding you.

"It's nothing you have done."

You look at him with concern.

"Something I've said?" Not that you've spoken to him much.

"No."

"Then, please, tell me how I can fix whatever this is. I would quite like for us to get along while we work together," you were pretty much pleading with him.

He clutches his coat, but you don't seem to notice.

"You remind me of my wife."

The way your head shoots up to look at him tells him he caught your attention. There was no going back now.

"You look so much like her and I can't take it," he whispers. "It is not your fault at all, but I cannot look at the face of someone I loved and failed greatly."

You're at a loss for words.

"But I know you're not her. The way you speak, the way you dress, the way you look when you're sleeping soundly... that's all you."

You stand there quietly.

"If you'll excuse me." He turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Helmut doesn't speak to you at all at the dock. He ignores you further on the plane to Latvia. You find yourself looking at him a lot more, but he doesn't even glance your way.

When you arrive at the safe-house, you immediately seek out a bedroom and try to stay out of everyone's way.

Sam comes to look for you. He can see something has happened and he's concerned it's a problem.

"Y/N? Open up."

You open the door to him.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Between you and Zemo. You're ignoring each other more than usual. If this is going to be a problem, I think we should at least talk about it."

"I think it's best I tap out now. You still need Zemo, right?" You ask, avoiding his eyes.

"Possibly, but not for much longer. Why? What's happened?"

"I think I'm making it difficult for him. He told me, back in Madripoor, that I look a lot like his wife and I think it's hard for him to look at me. I don't want to be the reason the job fails."

Sam wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side.

"That's not going to happen. If you want to stay here, I'm sure that's fine, but just know we could really use your help."

"I think I'll stay here. You can call me if you need me."

"Alright, we're not going anywhere just yet, so you'll have to deal with Zemo being around a little longer."

"I know."

Sam gave you a slight squeeze and left you in peace. Zemo was waiting downstairs when he returned. The Baron was kind of disappointed to find that Sam was alone.

You were avoiding him too. He supposed he deserved that.

"How is she?"

"Fine. She'll probably stay in her room for a while. She's decided to stay back for now, so we'll be dealing with the Flag Smahsers without her," Sam explained.

Zemo didn't mean for that to happen.

There was another knock at your door. You called for them to enter, expecting it to be Bucky coming to see you, but it wasn't.

"Oh, Zemo."

He closed the door behind him and walked over to you, but still maintained a comfortable distance between you.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Thought it would be better if I didn't tag along any more. They need you more than me right now," you speak softly, playing with the corner of your pillow next to you.

You hear Zemo sigh gently. The mattress sinks down next to you as he sits down.

"They need you too."

You shrug.

"I didn't mean for you drop out of the mission. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. I'm glad you did. I feel better knowing the reason why you can't look at me."

"Who's not looking now?"

You look up. His dark gaze is on you. He had been looking at you from the moment he entered the room.

He smiles.

"Won't it be difficult working with me if I'm there? I'm worried I'll jeopardise the whole thing."

He reaches out and he takes your hand.

"No. I did some thinking on the plane. I've spent too much time living in my past already, I won't let you back out of the plan because of my foolishness. I had no idea it would bother you so much that I was avoiding you." He gives your hand a little squeeze.

"I'm surprised too, you know. It kind of bothered me that you wouldn't even talk to me unless absolutely necessary."

"Apologies. I am a fool."

"No, you're not," you chuckle softly.

The smile he gives you sets the butterflies off in your stomach.

"Who is it you see now?" You ask, whispering.

"You. Just you."

You bite your lip shyly and shuffle a little closer.

"Then, I changed my mind. You'll have to put up with me when we go get the bad guys."

Zemo laughs.

"Poor me."

You rest your head against his shoudler. You don't know what it is about him, but there was something there that made you want to know him. If he would let you, you wanted to get closer to him.

Even if his freedom was short lived.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna

[amonrawya]

The Greatest Gift of All

(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

*

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town. 

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky. 

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning. 

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out. 

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast. 

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

*

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief. 

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being. 

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now? 

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

*

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life. 

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

*

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them. 

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition. 

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her. 

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

[cultofstan]

My love for Bane!!

Before you read, I want to make it clear that there are some nsfw parts to this posts. If you are under 18, please don't read!

This post will go over various details and reasons why my heart belongs to the big green giant know as Bane from Batman and Robin (1997). Get ready for a long read, because I've got a lot to say.

(If you haven't check out my Bane Wallpapers, go do check them out! They bring me so much joy, I hope they do the same for you ppl too!)

His mask is very cool and unique, because if you look closer you see they used Bane's comic book mask as a base and then just changed the mouth area and added black eye pieces on top of the red piece he normally sees out of. Imo, it is the best movie Bane mask we have ever had! A lot of people hate the multiple tubes coming out of his head, but I think it makes things extra spicy! A constant reminder that your not just dealing with any normal super human, you dealing with a venom infused one that can fight you like it's nothing! The bulging veins that can be seen in certain lighting is a detail I feel deserves more love. It adds to his big and tough demeanor. You can really tell the venom is working wonders on him! The zipper on the top of the head and the fact that his mask is most likely made of tight leather or latex brings thr entire thing together and is truly a marvel to look at! I absolute love it!💚Imagining him slick that smooth, stretchy, husky mask on while the venom starts to pump into his brain and muscles just does things to me. If Bane offered me a chance to wear it, venom or not, I would do it in a heart beat! It would probably reek of sweat, his bad breath, and of old leather, but I wouldn't care. Just the thought of inhale all those smells brings me a joy I can't describe! 😍

When I was a kid, in addition to his lovely mask, his clothing choice was another thing I loved about him. It looks like Bane is just wearing a black cotton tank top with some black sturdy pants, but I've always the headcannon that it's actually very flexible black latex one piece! It makes a lot more sense when you notice his collar, chest harness, wrist bands, crotch diaper, and boots are also make out of a harder leather with spikes and studs! I swear, half of my clothing choices/dreams come from this man! His boots, for the most part, are very frankenstein/gothic inspired with thick sole and it going all the way to his knees. The copper rivets are the only things that make them stand out, imo. I've had thoughts were in order to prove my love to him I have to lick or kiss his boots while he judges. I'd hate it for the most part, because they probably taste like dirty and dust, but I want him to know that I do love him, so I'd do small smooches starting from his toes and work my way up his leg until I'm straight up licking his boots. I'd get so carried away he'd probably make me stop pretty quickly so I don't get sick 😂. His spiked collar and wrist bands are easily the clothing items I want the most! Any time I see someone on the street with spikes in their clothing I immediately think about him. Because he's worn them for so long, they're probably not that tight or rough but still firm enough to not sag. Maybe even a little flaky in certain parts. I don't think I'm comfortable with myself enough to wear a collar in public but I've come so close to buying spiky wrist bands or gauntlets it's crazy I don't actually own a pair yet. One day, I'm sure. His crotch diaper, for lack of a better name for it, is the one thing I'm 50/50 on. Some days I think it really adds to his look, especially with the spikes that go out. Plus, to a certain extent, it makes practical sense because that way heroes cant go from behind his and try to restrain him, or can't throw too many kicks, without getting poked/cut by the spikes. But other days I think it just doesnt look that great, because it ultimatly looks like a big metal diaper, it takes away from his intimidation. Plus, I won't be able to give him proper hugs! (I want to give daddy all the hugs he deserves! 💚) His chest piece is what brings everything together. The little Bane symbol is so cute, I've always looked for a pin or something to buy but no luck. I actually used to have this Bane cape that I won at Six Flags when I was little. I cut the symbol of his face out of it and tried multiple times to attach it to my jean jackets but I suck at sowing. 🥲 The leather straps that hold the chest piece compliment the other leather pieces of his outfit. The metal looking chest piece looks wonderful and adds a layer to his character that I both love and hate. In this movie he's a drone, a mindless agent that is only allowed to follow orders. I'll will discuss this in a bit. But for the record, I hate the fact that Bane is written as big dumb idiot in this movie. It's the one big problem I have with him, which sucks because I literally love everything else about him!

I've probably watch the Bane transformation scene in Batman and Robin, like, a thousand times. No joke. I didn't realize it then, but seeing a short, thin, twink become a tall, hulking, king really hit my desires in the right way. Like, now, I know for sure that's one of my kinks and it makes me so damn happy! Granted, I've never been skinny in my life, but I've always wanted to be a musclar and strong man, so it makes sense why I love this scene so much. It's a literally fantasy of mine brought to life! More specifically, I've always wanted to be a type of strong that allows me to run miles like it's nothing, throw punches that instantly knock someone out, and lift so much weight that I borderline have a superhero body. Don't get me wrong, this is seriously mentally unhealthy because I know it's kind of impossible considering my personality and the actuality of gaining so much muscle, but I believe as long as I realize it's a dream and not beat myself up over it, it's not too bad of a thought to have. Actually, if you think about it, this Bane is kind of a plus size body representation. Sure he's got giant arms that can crush my bones like tooth pics, but he's pretty bulky with a big belly. That might be too much of a stretch to say, and I totally understand if people don't agree with. That being said, I have to say it, this man probably gives the best hugs in all of Gotham! He's so big that you don't even need a jacket in the house! Just let him embrace you and you'll never feel alone or cold again! His thick hands holding you in really tight, his muscles locking you in and warming your arms, while his gut pushes you back a little of your feet, like he wants to swoop you into his arms and carry you! 🥰 He'd be careful with his spikes of course, don't worry. A detail that sends me over the moon about Bane in this movie is his green skin. I can't put my finger on it, but it really adds to the whole transformation and therefore my thirst for him grows even bigger! Especially because it's completely unique to the movie. It looks so good that I wonder why the comics haven't adopted something similar.

I could go for hours about how I think the writers butchered Bane's character in this movie, but I want this post to mainly act as a positive appreciation post/background for head cannons that I might post about him one day. So to end, and give a taste, I'll finally talk about Bane being a drone in this movie. In weird way, because he's played as a mindless servent, it makes this version of Bane one of the easier Bane's for me to fantasies about. This is because in the movie, it's implied Bane only follows Poison Ivy because she was the first person he didn't see as a threat. Plus, I wouldn't be surprised if she used some of her suductive powers on him. (I would too, just saying) So, with that established, I like that he's a mindless drone because it means that, in my head, he's not exactly my "servant" but he will basically do whatever I say. Why? Because I will prove to him I not a threat either, and only want to love him!! He'll have a concuious and his own goals, and I'll follow along and help because I trust him and want to support him, but, for the most part, he will do what I say and love me in return. I could explain this more, but I want to save the juicy parts for the follow up post I have planned for this. 😏

If you've read this far, thank you. From the bottom of my hear. I've never wrote something this personal or long. I hope I can continue to do more of these, if I'm passionate enough.

[punkscowardschampions]

Buster & Rio

Buster: [Comes to find her like we said and sees what he sees but they don't see him because not hanging around to watch boy I'm not letting you] Buster: You need to be in Rio: Oh Rio: okay Rio: why though Buster: 🎂 Rio: Didn't have you down as an emoji kinda guy, McKenna Rio: be right there Buster: Full of surprises, you'd know that if you knew me Buster: Stop fantasizing about how I type & come the fuck on Rio: You wanna have a catch-up? Rio: Cute Rio: It ain't your birthday or cake, calm down Buster: I reckon you've got your hands full but I can't blame you for wanting it Buster: Much better offer, like Rio: Ha Rio: Sure Rio: just that talented, babe Buster: One of you has to be, I guess Buster: Christ knows he ain't it Rio: You two met before? Rio: Really are full of surprises, fair play Buster: Met his type about as often as you have Buster: & I saw what I saw, Cavante Buster: Miss me with your behind the bike shed bullshit next time, school's out for summer Buster: You could at least have the decency to keep things hot Rio: Weren't expecting an audience Rio: What the fuck 😂 Buster: Clearly Rio: And oddly enough, even if we was, you ain't the 🎯 demographic Buster: Like I said, you've got your hands too full to handle me Buster: I don't do triangles Rio: So traditional, love that for you Buster: I got the looks for a teen drama, but this ain't one Buster: Save your drama for your boring boyfriend Rio: You so obviously love drama though Rio: so pressed, babe but I put him down, you can go hit him up now 💋 Rio: [showing up for this cake 'cos otherwise rude] Buster: You obviously know me so well Buster: Not like you got the wrong twin there Buster: Understandable, the coming out party was pretty lowkey Rio: Nah, he's definitely not her type Rio: I'm up to date, see Buster: He definitely ain't mine either, so nah, you ain't Buster: Do you not get pretty boys around here unless they're decked in rainbow flags? Explains the choice you made there with that one Rio: It's a bummer no one thought to invite these pretty boys for you Rio: but you know, is granddad's bday so don't think they were high on the guestlist Rio: what you gonna do, eh Buster: It's alright, you can watch me survive it & tell yourself that's why you keep looking at me Rio: Oh my God Rio: your ego 😂 Buster: It's big, yeah Buster: But if you wanna measure it, probably gonna have to wait until after the cake's been cut Buster: Like you said, it's Granddad's moment Rio: [Audibly laughs] Rio: You're funny, McKenna Buster: [A look like 😏] Rio: Is she actually out then Buster: Ask her yourself Buster: She'll proudly tell you Rio: How'd that go Rio: like at School Buster: Do you want my answer or hers? Buster: 'Cause the lads fucking loved it but her 🎯 demographic, less so Rio: Typical Rio: I'll talk to her later Rio: pry her away from my brother/the corner they're hiding in Buster: She'll say it's fine if she says fuck all Buster: You know that Rio: Probably Rio: but I'm easy to talk to Buster: You're funny Rio: You know I am Rio: can but try, McKenna Buster: Easy to make people laugh when you're a kid Buster: Gotta try harder these days Buster: But you know that, yeah? Rio: I was referring to the easy to talk to bit but thanks Rio: You were never this nice Rio: the effort's appreciated Buster: Easy, for sure Buster: I was trying not to make that cheap of a shot seeing as it's a celebration & all but Buster: Since you're so appreciative of my efforts, don't need to hold back, like Rio: Keep dreaming, boy Buster: It should be your nightmare Buster: But I'm only passing through so none of my business if that's a rep you wanna maintain Rio: No one's talking about what I'm thinking Rio: you're the one betraying yourself but go off Buster: That I want you to have your transformative hot girl summer, yeah sure Buster: That's what a supportive family is for Rio: You're such a bullshitter Rio: Who you fooling, no one here Buster: Of course I am Buster: Haven't signed myself up for Truth or Dare yet, unlucky for you Rio: Gross Rio: Supportive family, remember Rio: don't get your roles confused Buster: That was bullshit, remember? Buster: You want me to be real with you, babe Buster: We don't know each other like that, sorry Rio: Heartbreaking Rio: or just boring Buster: You love to be bored though, so you're welcome Rio: Where'd you hear that Buster: I saw it Buster: There's no way to convince me that boyfriend of yours is anything but Rio: We don't know each other like that Rio: let alone knowing anything about him or what I love Buster: Well done for fooling him but you'd have to try harder to attempt it with me Buster: Got that first rate education working in my favour for one thing Buster: Don't just see what I wanna, for another Rio: Let's hope that's true Rio: for both our sakes Rio: begs the question why you are still looking but you can write an essay on it if you get homesick Buster: Amateurish to rely on hope, but you clearly are so I can't expect better Buster: Why do you care where I look or don't, is the real question Rio: When it's at me, it's my business Buster: You've changed your tune, I was all heart eyes for him when it suited you to play that way before Rio: Can you blame me for wanting it to be that Rio: should've run with it Buster: If you need me to be gay to make this easier that's your problem Buster: You should learn self control Buster: Your boyfriend clearly has some, or it's worse than I feared and he's not holding back at all, that's just all there is Rio: Yeah, that's what I meant Rio: Sorry you want an encore but that ain't happening for you, babe Buster: Yeah, I desperately wanna see that again Buster: I already know what not to do, but cheers Rio: I know Rio: This party is a bit of a let-down but did we expect anything better Rio: super glad to hear you've learnt something worth learning from your first rate education, btw Buster: You wish, but show me something better & I'll consider turning my head, like Buster: Until then it's just cake & candles Buster: Pass it on to my parents if you see them, they'll appreciate the validation of the single good choice they've made recently, I'm sure Rio: No one's trying to turn your head, McKenna Rio: Would but then I'd have to regale them of how I know you didn't always know what not to do and no one needs to relive that, least of all me Buster: Like you said, it's a shit party Buster: Oh so reliving it every night's too much for you? Shame. I'd have reckoned on you having more stamina Rio: Yeah, you wanna pay for my therapy? Rio: The night terrors are really draining Buster: As long as you make sure to tell 'em how you used to follow me around everywhere Buster: You know, the real facts Rio: Excuse you Rio: No I never 😂 Rio: this is my town, you were following me Buster: Is your memory always this selective or just when you wanna save face? Buster: You're the one who is and was desperate for a repeat performance Rio: If only Rio: then I could forget you ever said that Rio: have to go get a drink and try my best instead, eurgh Buster: I don't need to be told how unforgettable I am, babe Buster: I hear it all the time Rio: And I'm the one who's bored Rio: sounds like a riot Buster: I never said I wasn't Buster: I'm here, of course I am Rio: Yeah who wouldn't wanna rush on back to that Buster: I know you'll miss me but like I said, only a quick visit Rio: Been doing just fine with the schedule we had, you know Rio: let's not see each other again for another however many years if we can, tah Buster: If you were you wouldn't feel the need to tell me Buster: This convo can end any time if you're really that fine about it Rio: You're so up yourself Rio: I'm being polite, how families do, at least some of the time Buster: What would you say if you weren't being polite, how much of a cunt I am? Buster: Sounds like more fun if I can be honest at least once Rio: You've already had your turn Rio: remember Rio: ain't my fault you went with the lowest hanging fruit Buster: All I remember is lying through my teeth since I got here Buster: How families do Rio: You can try again if you reckon you can do better Buster: I can always do better Rio: Go on then Buster: I don't reckon kissing you would go down too well with the rest of the fam Buster: But if you wanna meet me outside, say when Rio: Umm we were talking about being honest Buster: What do you want me to be honest about? Rio: Well you said you could do better than 'easy' but did you actually think I wanted you to kiss me, what the fuck Buster: Bold of you to assume I've spent any time thinking about what you want Buster: There's no need when you make it so obvious Rio: You're cracked Rio: there's easy then there's that Buster: Protest some more & it might actually reach your eyes next time you look at me, like Rio: So you're actually delusional, cool Rio: Bet your shrink is soooo much an hour, yeah? Buster: If I had one he would be Buster: Or better yet, she would be Buster: But I'm the well-adjusted twin Buster: Evil but able to own it, you know Rio: Of course Rio: your own self-assessment doesn't reek of narcissism at all, babe 😂 Buster: It ain't my fault the world was set up to revolve around me Buster: A hot as fuck white lad with money & education ain't gonna hate himself, sorry about it Rio: Yeah, put it in Latin and that's the Tory tagline Rio: ain't thick, McKenna Buster: A calidum album et irrumabo iniecit puero pecuniam & educationem est non amet odio ipsum, contristari super eo Rio: [Lols again] Buster: [is again 😏 but there's more a genuine grin vibe to it] Rio: [goes off with her mans for ages] Buster: [change that to 😒 but more subtly] Buster: [When you're lowkey drinking too much even though you are but a child] Rio: [coming back and getting some drinks] Buster: [A look because he's his father's son] Rio: [just like 'hey!' 'cos you tryna be nonchalant but the look threw you a bit like okay] Buster: [when you walk off cos you're that rude] Rio: Charm 101 next year, is it Buster: My mum's written me a note to get me out of it Buster: [When you're trying to get your parents attention like can we leave but its a no go] Rio: The list of perks truly is neverending Buster: Yeah Buster: Maybe they'll adopt you if you keep asking nicely Buster: 3 kids was the dream Rio: Your least favourite number, so Rio: stick with being number one of my family, #2 Buster: If you ever wanna have a meeting of the golden children, you know where I live Rio: Slainte Rio: [raises her glass from across the room] Buster: [Doesn't raise his because dickhead but does down his drink obvs] Rio: Wow don't wish death on me with such abandon, people start to reckon you don't like me or something Buster: This family's worst kept secret, like Rio: Nah, reckon you've got plenty of competition for that one Rio: not even juicy, like Buster: Sarcasm's really lost on you, isn't it? Buster: That an Irish thing or a you thing Rio: You're a letter short Buster: Hilarious Rio: Not really Rio: Ha Buster: I know you've got a shit lad on your arm but don't scrap the barrel even lower Buster: There'll be fuck all left of it Rio: Why do you reckon he's so shit Buster: I have an awareness of my surroundings Buster: Not to mention senses that work Rio: No one's gonna ask you to fuck him, it's alright Buster: He might, but as we established, not a fucking gay Rio: Trust me, neither is he Buster: I'm thrilled for you Buster: Compatibility wise you've got that one thing locked down Rio: 💘 Rio: should cuff him now, is what you're saying Rio: thanks Buster: Yeah, that's my resounding advice Buster: It's worked out so well for so many members of this fam Rio: Ikr Rio: just want an invite to my child wedding Rio: any excuse to be back in the homeland Buster: Only if there's a free bar or money behind it Rio: fucking tightarse Rio: you put money behind it and you don't have to get me too many gifts Buster: I'm not paying to drown my sorrows 'cause I'm at a family function where you're the centre of attention Buster: Fuck that Rio: Please Rio: you love it Rio: sit you at the table with all the other broken-hearted boys Buster: You wish Buster: You don't need a table for a couple of lads, bar stools will do Rio: Easy, remember Rio: real loss for the entire community Rio: have to get out the plastic garden chairs and everything Buster: Why they ain't broken hearted, they got what they wanted without needing to marry you Buster: Keep up Rio: You wanna keep up with how good I am Rio: alas, dear cousin Buster: You wanna be in the same league as me more like Buster: It was cute when we were little but you need to get over it now Rio: Nah, the whole public schoolboy thing is not my scene but I'm happy for you that it's not giving you mad trauma Rio: nice to have fond school memories Buster: You wanna try that again? Make it more believable Rio: What can I say? Rio: Too nice, me Rio: as discussed Buster: What can I say? Buster: More fool you Rio: Hardly sat here taking it personal, babe Buster: Good to know Rio: Like you care Buster: I don't Buster: I thought that was obvious by now Rio: If you didn't you wouldn't feel the need to tell me Rio: Bless Buster: If you could pick up on anything, I wouldn't have to Buster: But here we are, still chatting away Rio: Shit party, like I said Buster: Shit lad, like I said Rio: So? Rio: The wedding isn't actually in the Spring, you know Buster: So don't you want someone who can hold your attention Rio: Don't we all, McKenna Rio: what's your point Buster: What's the matter, not as irresistible as you front? Buster: If you can get any lad, get a better one Rio: That's about holding their attention, not mine Rio: that's easy Buster: You could have it all Buster: That should be easy if you ain't full of shit Rio: All lads are boring Rio: 'til you grow up, which something doesn't happen 'til you're like 50, if ever Buster: Become a gay along with my sister then Rio: You're alright, thanks Buster: You come at me with a problem, I offer you a solution Buster: What families do Rio: Aside from the blindingly obvious fact that girls hold my attention even less Rio: but pat yourself on the back, have at it Buster: You're alright Rio: Mhmm Buster: Are you really not gonna offer to return the favour? Buster: Bullshit are you polite Rio: What's your problem then? Rio: Aside from the obvious, which is what the shrink is for, you're welcome Buster: The obvious being what, according to you? Rio: Oh honey Rio: he's not that boring Rio: we'll be here 'til the next birthday/anniversary/bullshit holiday Buster: [laughs himself] Rio: [when you get to be a lil 😏] Buster: [when you getting drunk on the low, sorry everyone] Rio: Hope you learnt how to handle your drink better than that time we stole that bottle of Rio: what even was it, from the pub and you spewed everywhere Rio: that was grim Buster: I was a kid & it was brandy Buster: The odds were against me Rio: 😂 Rio: we were all kids and you really gave us away Rio: still can't with that smell Buster: Fuck you Buster: You said you'd look after me Buster: Don't take up nursing, yeah? Rio: Don't hold it against me like I knew you'd be redecorating the walls before we were even halfway through Rio: I'm so caring Rio: but the uniform ain't as cute as they let on so I won't Buster: It only looked that bad to you 'cause you were seeing it in triple Rio: Never felt so sick since Rio: should've put me off for life by rights Buster: It put me off for a summer Buster: Felt like fucking ages Rio: Alright, you tiny alcoholic Buster: What can I say? I'm obviously a glutton for punishment Buster: Why I'm talking to you still Rio: Ew Rio: People you can see for that too, McKenna Rio: just don't get your appointments confused Buster: It ain't something I wanna change, but cheers Rio: They don't change it, silly Buster: Or chat bullshit about then, whatever Buster: You know what I meant Rio: Don't act like you don't know what I mean Rio: not that sweet and innocent Rio: your search history is no doubt littered with what I mean Buster: Not at all sweet or innocent, but you've made it clear you don't wanna know Rio: Have I Buster: A lesser man would've taken offense at being called cracked Rio: You actually talk like you're from the 1800s Rio: it's ace Buster: That's basically the first thing that school teaches Buster: You should go if you're that into it Rio: No hiding the accent Rio: you don't sound like scum Rio: or the colour Rio: bet you have like Saudi princes and that's your diversity checked Buster: They don't all sound as hot as me though & they ain't all allowed to be white or male, that'd be a lawsuit Buster: No princes but me, alas Rio: 😂 Rio: What's the point then Rio: not leaving Dublin for less Buster: I can't say I'm gutted Rio: You've said plenty weirder Rio: cracked, remember, I know I said that for a reason but I forgot Buster: I can't say it 'cause I would be gutted to have to go to school with you Buster: It'd be well distracting Rio: I have that affect, yeah Buster: You & me both but I'd rather keep on this side of it & keep my A*s Rio: Humblebrag Rio: keep it for the Oxbridge application Buster: Nah, a not even little known fact actually Buster: I can't be the Golden Boy with any less Rio: Sad Rio: everyone loves me just 'cos Buster: 🍀 Buster: Not sure my parents are capable of real emotion & they're the ones we're talking about so Rio: Sure they are Rio: Anger is an emotion Buster: Everyone knows they used all the positive ones on their grand love affair though Rio: Not trying to turn that into a triangle, don't you worry Rio: though that'd shit on all other worst kept secrets so it's a shame Buster: They are just less hot versions of me, be more blatant Rio: That's a bold claim Rio: and I said I'm not trying so not really Buster: It's a true story is what it is Rio: Hit them with it Rio: see what they reckon Buster: Been there, done that Rio: 😏 'Course Rio: you're such a delight Buster: Not really, but I'm not trying to be Rio: Trying out that sarcasm bullshit Buster: Stating a fact Buster: Right now all I'm trying to be is drunk Rio: I was talking about me Rio: not the only one capable of self-absorption, babe Buster: Oh Buster: Try harder then Rio: You can keep it, I reckon Rio: just another way of chatting shit but acting smug like you've said what you meant Buster: Try it on your boyfriend before you decide to fully uncommit, I reckon Buster: You look hot when you look smug Rio: How drunk are you Rio: aside from the obligatory 'not drunk enough' Buster: I'm not asking you to take care of me this time Buster: Don't worry about it Rio: Good job too Buster: Yeah, if you're still that shit at it Rio: Oh my God Rio: what other grudges are you holding, like Buster: It's what families do, babe Rio: Nah Rio: live and let live this lot Buster: Tell it to Nance, she's gutted I'm not wearing a 🌈 pin in support months later Rio: You two are dramatic Rio: I told you Buster: It's been passed down from both parents, I've told you before Buster: No fucking chance to be otherwise on that Rio: Gutted Buster: I'm rich enough it's expected of me regardless Buster: So I ain't crying Rio: if you are, hankies got the thread count to handle it, got it Buster: I'll just straight up wipe my eyes on the 💸 Rio: Truly a nightmare, boy Rio: give you that Buster: You're still dreaming about me Buster: I'll take it Rio: You're not funny Buster: You've proved otherwise however many times tonight already Buster: Stop laughing & maybe I'll buy it Rio: You have your moments Rio: don't push it Buster: Where's the fun in that? Rio: Shit party will be over soon and you can go back to having whatever passes for in your neck of the woods Buster: & until then we're both bored Buster: Tell me you don't want a little push Rio: What do you have in mind then Rio: or is this all just more chat Buster: You mean to also tell me you can't read my mind? Buster: Way to disappoint me Rio: 💔 Rio: Nothing worse than crossed wires is there Buster: I was thinking a little drinking game from your neck of the woods Buster: What have you got for me? Rio: Alright Rio: Come on then Buster: Go for your life Rio: [like are you two just playing, where is her mans, so many questions] Buster: [it has to be just them though unless he can take her man down and impress her on the low, that's the only way he can be involved] Rio: [the best one I've found is bullshit, basically you have to lie about your card hand and when you get caught in a lie you drink] Buster: [in this land of fiction pretend she knows a badass one/has made up a badass one because would have] Rio: [bin off the boy too] Buster: [what a mood] Rio: [gotta cockblock though] Buster: [better than we did with baze anyway, you got years yet lads] Rio: [get whisked away beech he's gonna be bored af] Buster: [& Buster gonna be drunk af oh lord] Rio: [partayyy] Buster: [your parents can't say shit at least boy cos they were doing it] Rio: [but will, parents are hypocrites for life] Buster: [and baze are the biggest byeeeeee that's the tea] Rio: [trubigfacts] Buster: [this drinking game should involve forfeits and it should be brandy cos the mems] Rio: [lord they're gonna vom] Buster: [he definitely will cos throwback] Rio: is that your pile of vom I just walked past or is someone else flagging too Buster: What kind of lawyer would I make if I answered that honestly Rio: 😂 Rio: Plead the fifth or whatever the fuck Buster: Exactly Buster: Couldn't have put it better myself Rio: let's hope you can or you'll never pass the bar, babe Buster: Never seen a bar I wanted to walk past, babe Rio: Omg Rio: granddad, that you Buster: [lols] Buster: Where is he though? Buster: Fucking done one from his own party Rio: Would if you could Rio: can't blame him Buster: He could've took me with him Buster: I can blame him for that Rio: Awh Rio: cute Buster: Shut up Buster: I wanna go home, that's not a secret Rio: You also wanna be favourite, less of a secret Buster: If you don't, you're stupider than you act Rio: Rude Buster: True Rio: Nope Buster: Yeah Rio: Think what you like Buster: Not gonna think what I don't like Buster: Not that much of a glutton for punishment, like Rio: Neither am I, so I don't care what you think Buster: Cute Rio: 🙄 Buster: If you actually did that instead of 😍 at me, maybe I'd believe you Rio: If I needed any more proof you were wasted Rio: Good thing you can't drive or we'd be taking your keys right now Buster: If I could drive, I'd have left ages ago Rio: Can't say I'd be gutted Buster: Not out loud nah Buster: Say it with your eyes as standard Rio: What are you looking at my eyes so much for then Buster: Safest place Rio: Jesus, McKenna Buster: Well, it is Buster: I didn't dress you in that Rio: I'm a big girl, can dress myself now Buster: Good to know Rio: You're such a dick Buster: & what? Buster: Is your problem that you don't like it or you do? Buster: 'Cause either way, not mine Rio: Oh fuck off Buster: Like you said, I would if I could Rio: you don't have to be annoying me Buster: You don't have to reply to me Rio: Yeah, that's probably how this usually goes for you Rio: like I'm gonna sit here and let you chat shit on me Buster: Mute me, I thought you already had anyway Rio: Why should I Buster: You're the one who's so fine with the way things are between us Buster: Why wouldn't you? Rio: I can be civil Buster: Why bother? Rio: Because I'm not some kid who gets his kicks out of being a dick? Rio: You're fucking immature Buster: You get your kicks out of being around me Buster: Obviously Rio: Why do you keep saying shit like this Buster: 'Cause you won't Rio: Because it's not true Buster: Bullshit Buster: I was there Buster: I'm here now Rio: We were kids Buster: Irrelevant Rio: How could that possibly be irrelevant Rio: kids do stupid shit constantly Buster: I do stupid shit now Buster: According to you, I'll do stupid shit til I'm 50 if not forever Rio: So Rio: what are you saying, we repeat that as well as the brandy? Buster: I did throw up so probably not but Rio: Yeah, that's the only reason why not Buster: It's my only reason Rio: You're gonna regret at this when you sober up, so I'll do you a favour and ignore it Buster: Don't do me any favours Buster: You don't know me like that any more Rio: It's just what families do Buster: Yeah Rio: Don't worry about it Buster: I wasn't Buster: I won't Rio: Glad to hear it then Buster: I bet Rio: Why wouldn't I be Buster: Of course you would, it makes shit really easy for you, that's literally what I'm saying Buster: Nobody's worried about it, we're so unfazed it can be like it never happened Rio: What, because you're twatted I should go for it Rio: that's not horrible at all, is it Buster: 'Cause you want to Buster: That's the reason Rio: Buster just don't Rio: alright Buster: Yeah 'cause me shutting up about it is gonna make a world of difference Buster: Been there, tried that Rio: I don't know what you want right now Rio: I don't think you do either Buster: That's the best lie of the night Buster: 🏆🎉 Rio: Thanks Rio: fanfare not necessary but I'll take my prize in cash or booze Buster: Have a drink on me then Rio: Cheers Buster: [finally raises his glass in a cheers which is probably empty anyway] Rio: [imagine bazes faces rn lol] Buster: [does one at them too because shout out mum & dad] Rio: Probably a decent plan if your parents were normal Rio: get so embarrassing they have to take you home Rio: but reckon they'll let you ride it out and suffer tomorrow so Buster: Still, I'll pass out eventually so one way or another, I'm leaving Rio: Don't say things like that Rio: that's really depressing Buster: I'm not here to make you feel good babe, you passed on that Rio: Yeah 'cos I'm worried about me Buster: Bullshit do you care about me Buster: Get over yourself Rio: What kind of bitch do you actually think I am Buster: One who doesn't care, did I slur too much then or what? Rio: Loud and clear Buster: Good Rio: Yeah Rio: have fun with this hangover Buster: Cheers Buster: I won't wait for you to show up in the nurse gear Rio: I wouldn't Rio: Bitch or not, not happening Buster: Talk to my fucking sister if you're any kind of caring bitch Rio: I already have Rio: you're obsessed with yourself but I actually ain't Buster: If that's meant to impress me you've taken a wrong turn Rio: No, it's meant to be a fuck you Rio: keep up Buster: That actually would be impressive if you could come close to pulling it off Rio: Shut up Rio: for fuck's sake Buster: If you don't like it, do something about it Buster: Don't just fucking take it Buster: Who are you now? Rio: You're being that pathetic right now, I'm not going to fight you Buster: There's loads of different ways to fight Buster: But if you wanna take a cop out, go for it Rio: and what's the point in that? Rio: you like being like this, apparently, so enjoy it Rio: like you've said, we don't know each other like that, why would anything you say about me matter Buster: You tell me, babe Buster: Why does it? Rio: This is ridiculous Rio: You're ridiculous Buster: How far under your skin, am I? Buster: That's what's ridiculous Rio: You wish Buster: I haven't touched you for years Buster: I don't need to Buster: What do I need wishes for? Rio: You're disgusting Buster: Like you said, my search history is Rio: At least you can admit that Buster: I told you earlier, I can own it Buster: All of it Buster: Why can't you? Rio: 'Cos you want me to say something stupid just so you can take the piss later Rio: but I ain't gone enough for that shit Buster: No I don't Rio: Yeah you do Buster: I don't Buster: I probably won't remember this later, fuck's sake Rio: You definitely won't Buster: So cut the bullshit Buster: What does it matter? Rio: Alright Rio: when you do Buster: 😂 Buster: Alright Buster: This is why I fucking missed you Buster: Well played, like Rio: 🙄😏 Rio: Win again, do I? Buster: Is that what you need from me? Okay then Rio: Obviously Rio: I'm the competitive one here Buster: It ain't never been all me Buster: Don't lie that hard Rio: Okay Rio: a bit Rio: you bring out the worst in me, how about that for a compromise Buster: I'll take it Rio: Good Buster: That kiss proved you bring out the worst in me too so Rio: 😂 Rio: Don't even try to blame me for that Buster: Nobody else has complained Buster: It's obviously your fault Rio: SINCE Rio: if you're having any success now it's thanks to me Buster: Well there weren't no before Buster: That don't mean you taught me anything Rio: Yeah it does Buster: How would you, you barely kissed me back Rio: We couldn't both be on attack Rio: defensive was my only hope Buster: What can I say? I go after what I want Rio: Hmm Buster: Don't even try & act like that ain't true Rio: Just curious why you were after my tonsils so bad Buster: It wasn't the aim Buster: Only the consequence Rio: You're funny Buster: & yeah my aim was a little bit the problem Buster: But fuck off Rio: 😂 Rio: you were in the general vicinity Buster: Cheers that's well comforting Rio: Hit you with a 'it happens to all lads' if you like, really cheer you up Buster: Don't fucking dare Buster: Trying to jinx me or some shit now Rio: I know you're still a virgin Rio: you'd probably have liveblogged it or some shit if you weren't Buster: Yeah I might Rio: I'll definitely mute you before then Rio: s'all good Buster: Unless your boyfriend needs the tips Buster: Fingers crossed they ain't all gonna be as shit as this one Rio: He isn't my first boyfriend Rio: but I haven't slept with any of them Rio: contrary to what you reckon Buster: What do you want me to say? Rio: Erm try sorry, wanker Buster: Alright Buster: I am then Rio: You're what Buster: I'm not gonna fucking get on my knees for it Buster: You know what I'm saying Rio: Say it then Rio: one word Rio: not asking the rest, am I Buster: Jesus Buster: That's a fucking word Rio: Why you bringing him into this Rio: he would never Buster: He would 100% get on his knees Buster: Guaranteed Rio: You like punishment, I heard Rio: crucifying you is a bit much Buster: He's basically never upright unless you nail him, the soft cunt Buster: That's all I'm saying Rio: Why are you slating him right now Rio: just 'cos he's the bigger man and would apologize Buster: Distraction Buster: Obviously Rio: Well try harder Buster: Don't tempt me Rio: Ha Rio: come on Rio: or do you wanna owe me Buster: Fuck that Buster: Look, I'm sorry, yeah? Rio: There Rio: that was actually easy, wasn't it Rio: apology accepted Buster: Cheers then Buster: Just one more thing Rio: What Buster: Don't bother fucking this one Buster: Trust me Buster: That's me doing you a favour, however we know each other Rio: Looking unlikely Rio: but I'll keep it in mind Buster: Good Buster: I don't need the mental images on top of the boring display I already saw Rio: Well that's your own fault Buster: Technically it's yours for not being inside Rio: Well I'm not sorry Rio: it weren't that bad Buster: You weren't Buster: His case has been made Rio: just keep your opinions to yourself Rio: or at least between us Rio: don't need a scrap right now Buster: I'm not dumping him for you, calm down Rio: Isn't that what brothers are meant to do Rio: don't think Junior is gonna be very useful to me Rio: sorry, like Buster: You can have my sister Buster: She's a proper manhater Buster: It'd be quality Rio: 😂 Rio: Bad enough I dragged him to a family function Rio: can't just let everyone start attacking him Buster: Why did you? Buster: Too much of a rookie error even for you Rio: 'cos I knew it'd probably be boring Buster: Yeah but so's he Buster: You can't fight boring with more boring, babe Rio: I obviously didn't think so, did I Buster: You're only lying to yourself at this point Buster: I could fucking see that you were bored senseless Buster: Come on Rio: I don't know then Rio: beats being alone Buster: Alone with a family this size Buster: Chance would be a fine thing Rio: Easy Rio: like you said, no one's looking, no one gives a fuck Buster: Everyone's looking & pretending they ain't Buster: They don't give enough of a fuck though, that's true Rio: Changed your tune now you're not trying to get me to kiss you Rio: but agreed Buster: I weren't gonna do it in the middle of them all Buster: Hold up everyone, get in a fucking circle really quick Rio: said like you weren't acting like an insane person Buster: When have I ever acted like a sane person? Buster: What kid necks brandy in the middle of the morning Buster: You used to like it Rio: Never said I didn't Buster: So you do still like me then Rio: You sound surprised Buster: That'll be 'cause I am Rio: I'm a nice fucking person Rio: 😂 Idk why you reckon I ain't Buster: You were nice to me 'cause you had a massive crush on me, it don't make you a saint Buster: If anything, it makes you the opposite Rio: Charming Rio: any ulterior motives I might've had, as a literal child, flew right out the window with that kiss didn't they so that's invalid Buster: You were still running round after me for a fair while before though Buster: It took you long enough to take the hint Buster: *after Rio: No I was not Rio: your selective memory Buster: You were & I had to be the opposite of charming Buster: You ain't talked to me since so that fucks your sainthood Rio: That was obviously what you wanted Rio: wouldn't be very saintly to keep 'running 'round after you' Buster: There's your excuse, you can have it Rio: I don't need no excuse Rio: I was here Rio: it was you that was avoiding, making it weird Buster: Don't act like you never avoided me Buster: Just 'cause I started it Rio: Well, it don't matter now, does it Buster: You're doing it now Buster: You can't look at me Rio: [does like yeah I can] Buster: [a moment because of course he's looking at her too] Rio: How many fingers am I holding up? Rio: [flips him off but grins with it] Buster: Not enough for a fun night Rio: 😂 Buster: Unless your grip is like Buster: Really something Rio: Were you always this Rio: I don't even know Buster: Puberty made me even more of a thorn in your side in every way, babe Buster: Take it up with your fave lad, Jesus Buster: Or his dad Rio: One in the same, lad Buster: He's his own dad? How does that work Rio: I know, mental Rio: hear he made the whole universe too? Rio: wild stuff Buster: I could say I did that, It don't make it a real thing Buster: Even wilder stuff Rio: your proclivity for bullshit is known Rio: could tell me anything, don't mean I'll believe it Buster: Shame I won't remember that Rio: Is it? Buster: Isn't it? Rio: What are we talking about now? Buster: The fucked upness that will be my tomorrow Rio: Don't envy you that Buster: At least I won't have to talk to you & vice versa Buster: Small mercy there Rio: Drama queen Buster: 👑 Rio: Should get some water though for real Buster: Me or you? Rio: You Buster: Nah, I don't need that shit Buster: I'm not going to bed Rio: What are you gonna do Buster: Stay here Buster: Like old times Rio: Okay Rio: but don't forget, when you do Buster: You sound more like a mum than the one I've got Rio: Just doing my bit Buster: By rights you should've been a good nurse Buster: What a fucking curve Rio: I would be Rio: it's so rude holding that against me Rio: it was pretty scary actually Rio: thought you was gonna start vomming blood or something Buster: That would've been such a cool story Buster: Let's tell people I did that Rio: Can tell your mates Rio: all posh boys are psychopaths Buster: Yeah Buster: Why they love me at this school Buster: Gonna be Headboy in no time Rio: Probably Rio: but you ain't Buster: Yeah I will, I just had to get a rep first Rio: I mean, you ain't a psycho Rio: unlucky Buster: How do you know? Buster: Easily could be Rio: Nah Buster: Then, I'll just fake it til I make it, I guess Rio: Should work Rio: easy to convince people of what they wanna see Buster: Exactly Rio: What would you wanna be head boy for though actually Buster: Get such a hard on for a badge obviously Buster: What kind of question is that? Rio: [A lol] Rio: Fucking nerd Buster: If I ain't Headboy someone else is Buster: That makes them better than me Buster: Nobody's better than me so Rio: Better in the eyes of teachers Rio: at fucking...being a good example and peer mentor or whatever the fuck it actually means Buster: Don't be stupid Buster: It's a popularity contest Buster: They might as well give you a fucking 👑 Rio: 🙄 Rio: you're so weird Buster: Fuck off Rio: Honestly Rio: be wanting to be prom king next Buster: Obviously I do Buster: What the fuck Rio: 😂 Rio: Stop Buster: You stop Buster: Taking the piss out of me Rio: I'm sorry but you're being funny Buster: You ain't sorry at all Buster: But yeah, I'm hilarious, like Rio: If that's what you care about that's fine, I guess Rio: don't get it but you know Buster: I don't need you to get me Buster: Calm down Rio: I'm not trying, am I Rio: taking the piss Buster: Stop though Rio: I have Rio: I will Buster: Good 'cause I'm gonna be sick Buster: [is but hopefully not everywhere please boy] Rio: Oh God Rio: run Buster: You worry so much Buster: I thought we weren't doing that shit Rio: so I'll just let you chunder everywhere Rio: it's not like above and beyond is it Rio: get you a sodding glass of water if you let me Buster: You're so cute Rio: And you are very very drunk Buster: And I really wanna go home Buster: Why does nobody listen to me? Christ Rio: Let me find a sober adult for you Rio: I think both your parents are drinking Buster: Good fucking luck with this lot Rio: Seriously Rio: [my thoughts are probably Caleb 'cos not a big drinker even as a teen so as an adult, with some small kids still?] Buster: [A logical conclusion I feel like, also less awkward to talk to your dad than like whoever else it could be like Ro god forbid cos we know how that future is panning out] Rio: [also she'd be #horrified at the state of him so avoid that lmao] Rio: My da can take you, if you like Rio: don't like choke on your own sick though Rio: shall I find Nance to come? Buster: Or you could just come so I don't have to talk to your dad Rio: Of course I'm coming in the car Rio: like I trust you and your mouth rn Rio: but someone should stay with you Buster: Stay with me then Rio: Yeah? Rio: Alright Rio: give me 5 to sort shit then Buster: I'll start the countdown now, like Rio: You ain't allowed to say anything about the quality of my nursing ever again, you know that right Rio: [tell your mans its time to go] Buster: I know that I won't remember fuck all about it, either way Buster: Lucky escape for you there Rio: Ha, funny Rio: be less so when I poison you Buster: You don't reckon I've beat you to that already? Buster: Hilarious Rio: There's time and opportunity to finish you off now Rio: fool Buster: Maybe that's how I wanna go Buster: Could all be a carefully planned and orchestrated situation, babe Rio: Nah Rio: got head boy and prom king to win yet Buster: Lying in my grave kinda takes that pressure off Buster: I can just leave them with all these fond memories Buster: Such as now Buster: Be Golden Boy forever Rio: Shh Rio: so morbid Rio: maybe you are 🍀 after-all Buster: Dead babies will do it to you Buster: & yeah, same family, remember Rio: Come on Buster: Shh we're not allowed to talk about it Buster: Actual worst kept secret Rio: You ain't letting that stop you Rio: talk about whatever you like, not listening anyway am I Buster: Of course you are Buster: Never been able to ignore me Rio: You are pretty loud Buster: [laughs loudly so point proven there] Rio: [smiles, when her mans is probably giving him such a dirty look 'cos ruined his plans lmao, get in the car lads] Buster: [Let's hope he didn't see it because we don't need you to smack him boy you're already looking jealous enough when you ain't her mans] Rio: Good thing is if you're sick in here, one of the kids probably did it yesterday so who cares Buster: I don't reckon I can Buster: But if you really want me to, for old times sake, I'll give it my best shot Rio: Sweet but let's keep our bodily fluids to ourselves Buster: All of them? Buster: Shame Rio: [nudges him like 😏] Rio: Behave Buster: Why would I wanna do a thing like that? Buster: Not my dad driving Rio: You don't think you're in enough trouble as is? Buster: I think I could get in more Buster: Easily Rio: Why would you wanna do a thing like that? Buster: 'Cause I'm not your boring boyfriend Rio: No, you ain't Buster: & I got rid of him for you Buster: You're welcome, like Rio: Thought you said you weren't gonna do that Buster: Yeah but Rio: You're alright, I got rid of him Rio: you were just a useful excuse Buster: I aim to please Rio: I'm sure Buster: & my aim's improved since Buster: In case you were worried Rio: 😂 Rio: Pleased for you Buster: You could be pleased for yourself Buster: If you just stop playing Rio: You might not remember any of this tomorrow but I probably will Buster: Promise or a threat? Rio: Take it how you want Rio: just a fact, I ain't as gone Buster: Here's another fact, I don't care Rio: Will when I can rip the piss out of you Buster: If you need this for ammunition you already can't keep up Rio: We've established Rio: I'm nice, you're a dick Buster: Nah, you're passive aggressive, I'm just aggressive Rio: Alright, alpha male 🙄 Buster: That's really not much of an insult, babe Buster: You might as well stop fighting me Rio: I'm not fighting you Rio: wouldn't really be fair would it Buster: That's the difference between me and you Buster: I don't care if the fight's fair Rio: One of Buster: I'll all but knocked myself out for you & you still won't throw any punches Buster: Hilarious Buster: Even Nance would rise to this much bait, like Buster: & she's barely a McKenna Rio: Exactly Rio: wore yourself out, rookie Rio: and don't be rude Rio: she's as much of one as you Buster: [Laughs] Buster: I take it back, that's the best lie of the night actually Buster: You wish, then you could handle it, but nah, stamina for days Buster: & nah she ain't Rio: You're the only one wishing and concerning yourself with what I can handle, boy Buster: Keep telling yourself that, babe Rio: Well, obviously you ain't the ONLY one but in this car Buster: Bold of you to assume your dad don't love me Rio: [lols] Rio: shut up Rio: outweirding yourself Buster: If you weren't too scared you could make me Rio: Who's scared Buster: Me when we were kids & you now Rio: Nah Rio: I know what I'm doing Buster: It doesn't mean you ain't shitting yourself at the prospect of doing it Rio: With my cousin, in a car with my dad? Rio: that's just common sense, McKenna Buster: That's just another bullshit excuse, Cavante Buster: You know where I am & where I've been Rio: You said, you started it Buster: You know why Rio: Yeah? Buster: Yeah Rio: Maybe Buster: Can your dad not drive any faster than this? Buster: Jesus Christ Buster: It would have been quicker to walk, like Rio: How you're stumbling? I think not Rio: What's your hurry, do you need to stop Buster: Need, want, there's not a load of difference Rio: I mean, I'd prefer it if you got out to be sick, thank you Rio: we ain't that far Buster: I'm not gonna puke on you, calm down Rio: You better not Rio: definitely don't know each other like that Buster: The outfit's too good Buster: I won't Rio: Considerate 😏 Rio: [let's get 'em there can't be that far away thanks and bye Caleb] Buster: [have fun getting him in girl] Rio: [get you situated on the sofa 'cos we ain't going to his room rn and be getting water and ting] Buster: [I bet their sofas ain't comfy cos expensive stylish ones never look like they are] Rio: [poor boy] Rio: go get your duvet Buster: You're trusting me to climb these stairs? Buster: Like I said, shit nurse Rio: For goodness sake Rio: where's your room then Rio: it better not be gross or I'm charging Buster: [Tells her cos I can't remember the layout] Rio: 👍 Rio: don't wander Buster: [Lies stretched out on the sofa like a little Crim] Rio: [first throws it at him but then has to tuck 'cos mum] Buster: [Gives her an accidental soft look but when was the last time anyone did that for him lbr] Rio: [puts the TV on 'cos gotta have some pretense of doing something and distraction] Buster: [sipping his water like a good boy] Rio: [is like yasss hydrate lmao] Buster: [when you're like come & lie here with me bitch but in gestures] Rio: [when you do but over the covers] Rio: ['Better?'] Buster: [Just nods because looking at her & having a moment] Rio: ['Good'] Buster: ['Don't go'] Rio: 'I won't, not 'til they get back, don't worry'] Buster: [When you happy about this not only cos you don't wanna be alone but because it's her specifically] Rio: [When you like, don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep 'cos cosy] Buster: [& he's getting closer to her all the time, we see you trying to snuggle boy] Rio: ['when are you going back home then?'] Buster: [Shrugs cos I feel like he genuinely wouldn't know cos can't just do what he wants yet he has to do what baze wants] Rio: ['your friends are probably all at their holiday homes anyway, yeah?'] Buster: ['Course & as far as they're concerned this is mine, don't need to tell 'em it's not on an island somewhere or some shit'] Rio: [laughs quietly 'secret's safe with me'] Buster: ['You sure you can handle keeping another one?'] Rio: ['duh, you know how many brothers and sisters I got, I'm the best at keeping secrets'] Buster: ['Good to know. I'll try & remember'] Rio: [puts up fingers like '10'] Buster: [laughs] Rio: ['don't get ideas though' 'cos throwback] Buster: ['You won't know either way, can't read my mind'] Rio: ['wouldn't want to, filth' but smiling] Buster: ['You'd love it'] Rio: [😏 'go to sleep'] Buster: ['You gonna come with me then?' When you wanna sleep & dream & snuggle together aw] Rio: ['gotta look after you, ain't I' when you stroke his hair but then pretend you just messing it up] Buster: [When you lowkey snuggle into her more than you already were] Rio: ['Don't remember this in the morning, yeah'] Buster: ['Shh, I'm asleep'] Rio: ['Good boy'] Buster: [A smile because always gonna be into that we know] Rio: [when baze and nancy are gonna be so confused like hello?] Buster: [You shoulda known what's up lads, it's always been obvious af] Rio: [she's deffo falling asleep too ain't like she's sober] Buster: [and she's definitely being snuggled rn so who could resist] Rio: when you 'rents probably hitting you up 'cos baze in no fit state to be taking you home like are you staying or what] Buster: [Caleb 100% would, he's that dad who will spam you with texts and missed calls] Rio: [soz babe your kids suck at replying lmao] Buster: [At least he knows where she is] Rio: [true, she'll get woken up when baze get back assumedly then it'll be all sos] Buster: [Dad's taxi come through]