#seriously man could not be in the wrong place more often that series

[lys-jeorge]

So I watched the games today w my Mom, and in PSG FLY G1 we were talking about matchfixing, then there was that...situation with the 4 v 5 top which essentially ended the game and we were watching Inspired piss about in bot jungle while his team was losing the fight, and no, I don't think he was matchfixing, but I do think it was funny to see him make that choice in the context of that conversation

[suni-writings]

Running out of time.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 2 | part 3

wc: 2.3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)

“I can't do this anymore.”

The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.

If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.

She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?

She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.

Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.

So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.

As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.

“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.

She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.

“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.

“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 

“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”

She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.

“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.

“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.

The first and only rule was already broken.

“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.

They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.

“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”

What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?

“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”

She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.

She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.

But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.

That’s all she knew how to do.

So, she just accepted it.

She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.

When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.

“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.

“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.

He sighed deeply.

“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”

“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”

He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.

They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.

He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.

“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”

“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”

“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.

“You’re annoying,” he joked.

“Touché.”

“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”

She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?

Why didn’t she run away?

She was so good at that.

“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t—”

“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”

“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”

And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.

“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”

He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.

“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.

That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.

He didn’t bother to explain.

In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.

That’s how they ended up here.

“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”

She laughed dryly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.

“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.

“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”

“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”

“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.

“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.

It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.

A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.

But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.

“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful. 

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger. 

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected. 

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples. 

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him. 

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub. 

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more. 

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'. 

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked? 

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in. 

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands. 

Another blonde, huh? 

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)" 

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla. 

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber. 

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing? 

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll." 

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?" 

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[lnfours]

tolerate it | l.n

summary: if it’s all in my head, tell me now. tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow.

warnings: happy folklore/evermore season :) angst, language, fears of your partner falling out of love with you, slight anxiety and overthinking, fluffy ending bc i can’t make them stay mad at each other. kinda wanna do an evermore/folklore mini series, let me know if you guys would be interested <3

masterlist | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the colder weather meant the sun was starting to set earlier, and it was evident as you gazed out the window, sitting at the dining room table. the candle you had lit an hour or so ago flickering softly, illuminating the room with a soft glow as the gloomy sky hovered above.

you sighed to yourself, taking another sip from the wine glass that sat next to your plate. you tapped on your phone screen, lighting up and displaying the time and the picture you had set as your lock screen. the 5:30 hovering tauntingly above the picture of you and lando from a few months back, your smile wide and trying to hide it in his shoulder as he held his camera to the mirror. he was sporting a smile also, you could almost hear your shared giggles through the photo.

he was supposed to be home an hour ago, and nights like this were happening more often. he’d always be an hour to an hour and a half late getting home. it was always an apology, saying ‘training ran late’ or the quadrant shoot ‘ran on longer than it was supposed to’, you’d see him for fifteen minutes while the two of you ate dinner, and then he’d go off to the office until he decides to join you in bed later in the night.

at first, you didn’t complain, knowing he was a man with a busy schedule, but after almost two months of this same song and dance, your anxiety was getting the best of you.

what if he was out with someone else? what if he was slowly losing interest in you? what if he just tolerates you?

the sound of the door closing pulled you from your thoughts, snapping your head up as you heard footsteps enter the room. he placed his keys, wallet and phone on the counter, frowning softly.

“sorry i’m late,” here we go again, “i told max i needed to be home by 4 and he insisted we played another round before i left.”

you nodded, taking another sip from the glass on your right, “‘s fine.”

he watched you swallow thickly, tilting your head to look back out the window. he noticed the way your hand tapped against your arm softly, his eyes moving to the plates set on the table. your grandmother’s china.

his heart dropped when he thought back to your conversation the other night, him saying the two of you would have a proper sit down meal tonight since he felt bad for running late lately.

and he just fucked it all up even more.

“you don’t have to lie,” he said, making you advert your attention back to him, “i know you know it’s not fine.”

you shook your head, “what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

he knew he deserved the digs and jabs you were sending his way, “seriously, lando, if you’re not interested in me anymore just say it instead of making me play this stupid game.”

the silence that fell between the two of you after was the final blow. he watched your cheeks glisten in the soft candle light, and fuck, he hated seeing you cry. especially when it was because of him.

he didn’t know what to say as your chair scraped the floor, getting up from your spot at the table and picking up your plate. the food untouched as you grabbed the saran wrap from the pantry.

he heard your quiet sniffle, “i’m so sorry, y/n-“

“then where have you been the past two months?” he blinked back at you before you continued, “every single day it’s the same, overused excuse. so, what is it really, lando? enlighten me.”

he swallowed because he didn’t have answer that didn’t sound like he was making an excuse. he really had been busy with work, but he knew he could’ve done better with planning to make more time for you and him.

you knew he loved you with every fiber of his being, but you were upset. you were angry and sad and all you wanted was for him to come home and spend time together like the two of you used to do. but it was like it was too much to ask for.

of course you knew what you were signing up for when he took you on your very first date, but you didn’t know it would mean being put on the back burner, begging to be let in on the things going on his life.

his silence made you nod, “right,”

he reached out to you slowly, not sure how you would react. you bit down on your bottom lip, the dam breaking now as he stepped towards you.

“y/n,” he said your name softly, understanding that your lash-outs were because of men who had hurt you in the past, knowing too well what it felt like when anxiety and over thinking takes over. he couldn’t be mad at you, he just wanted to make things right. make you feel reminded that he loved you. more than racing, more than his friends, more than anything in the whole world.

the back of your hands were raised to your eyes when he grabbed them and pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his chest. you gave in, knowing that at the end of the day, he was your safe place. your shoulder to cry on, the one who always saw you in your most vulnerable stages. there was no getting past him with this one.

your hands wrapped around his middle loosely as you cried softly into his chest. he rested his head against yours, rubbing your back the same way he always did whenever he’d comfort you. his lips pressed against your hair before he grabbed your face gently, lifting your chin to have you look at him.

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, eyes searching yours and that’s when you realized he had been crying too, “i’m gonna talk to my trainer and the guys and tell them i need a little bit of a break, and you and i are gonna spend every single day together doing whatever you want.”

you felt selfish now, “but this is your job, lan,”

“i don’t care,” he said, shaking his head as he moved his hand to hold your cheek, “they’ll be fine if i take a few days off.”

your hand came up to mimic his on your cheek, your fingers brushing against the small moles on his face. the same ones your lips press against whenever you kiss his face. the pads of your thumbs brushed away the small tear lingering around his nose.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling guilty for being cold to the boy who loved you like no other.

“don’t apologize,” he said, “i should’ve done better. you don’t deserve to feel like you’re on the back burner of my life.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as if it was even possible. you looked back out the window, the light from the golden hour sun shining on the trees in the backyard. he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “i love you.”

you smiled softly, pulling back to meet his gaze. your smile making his lips turn up into one mirroring yours, “i love you, too.”

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, a mixture of the wine you had with dinner and the salty tears you had cried a few moments prior with the subtle hint of your chapstick.

you both pulled away, him taking you by surprise when he lifted you off the ground. you squealed, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you clung onto his hoodie for dear life.

“lando!” you laughed, letting him carry you to the couch and thanking yourself for putting his dinner plate in the fridge earlier.

you had your boy back.

[olympeline]

Been thinking about why I found Arthur in the Dark so impressive and it made me realise something kinda significant. Something significant that I’m going to put under a read more because it revolves around a heavy subject. So I wouldn’t advise looking beyond the cut if you’re sensitive to that kind of thing.

Less important, but everything below is a big spoiler and, guys seriously. If you like USUK and can handle darker fiction - no pun intended - give AitD a try. Don’t spoil yourself here. Go try it first and then come back if you’re interested. Try it if you’re neutral on USUK. Or, heck, even if USUK is a ship you dislike but isn’t an outright NOTP. I’d still recommend checking out this comic. Arthur in the Dark is still worth a read in my opinion. It’s that good. But enough gushing. Read on for the meat of this post.

Ready? Here we go: Arthur in the Dark has one of the best depictions of rape I’ve ever seen in a piece of media. “Best” as in most skillfully crafted for narrative purposes. Honestly and truly. Not even kidding. Which is kind of amazing considering it’s a depiction that came from a fan comic based on a jokey, anime gag series. Why do I feel this way? A couple of reasons:

Firstly, the rape in AitD is frighteningly, tragically realistic. Something the majority of fictional rapes are not. We tend to think of rape as taking place in a dark alley in the inner city. Stereotyping up a scene of a bottom feeder, criminal man dragging a (young, attractive) woman away to violate her. They’re usually total strangers and it’s always violent. These kind of rapes do happen, but statistics tell us they’re the minority. The majority of rapes happen like the one in AitD did: between two people who know each other well. Friends, romantic couples, even family members, make up the bulk of rapists and their victims.

Most narratives prefer the less common type of rape. Usually because the creator doesn’t want to tell a story about rape. Not really. What they want is a gut-punch to add easy drama and darkness to their creation. The sliding scale of “irredeemable bad guy” roughly goes: murderer → cold blooded torturer → rapist → child rapist. Making a villain a rapist is one of the worst things he - because 99% of the time it’s a he - can be. Conversely having a character be raped gains them instant sympathy because people are moral and empathetic creatures at heart. Most creators know this and throw in a rape for the shorthand: “Look how evil our villain is!” Which often makes the rape and its aftermath feel artificial. In no small part because the rapist characters, by virtue of being written to be the worst of the worst, don’t come off as very human. They can’t be when their main purpose is to be loathed by the audience. I could go on because there’s tons more to unpack about rape in fiction, but you get the point.

The rape in AitD isn’t like that. America and England know and love each other. Their relationship is complicated (oh boy, is it ever!) but that part of it is never in doubt. They’re each other’s most treasured person and have been for centuries. They’re not a duo made up of a flat, hate bait, villain on a collision course with their victim. Who’s doomed to suffer and be pitied until the creator decides the audience has had enough of their trauma and shuts it away so the story can move on. America and England are two people living together, going through a period of immense change and stress, trying to manage as best they can, and sometimes getting it very wrong. From a narrative point of view, this makes what happens between them so much better and so much more upsetting at the same time.

Which brings me nicely to reason number two of why this particular rape works: the build up. Like everything else in AitD, America raping England is carefully planned out and set up. The chocolate bar scene, man. Brilliant, I have to say. Alarming, uncomfortable, and brilliant. The scene in the garden is not just sprung on the reader for a jarring “Oh no! Oh shit-!” moment. If your typical under written rape is a cheap jump scare, the rape in AitD is a carefully crafted slowburn dread. Early on we start to become aware we’re building to something bad. From the foreshadowing, the art, the atmosphere, etc. We just know a storm is coming. It’s done without America acting OOC too, which is very important. It’s how he can come back from what he did. Something that would be impossible if the author didn’t handle this setup well. America’s actions aren’t right, but they are understandable. That’s the crucial distinction. The psychology of the whole thing is so very well done. America was in love with England and had been for a long time. The guilt he felt tormented him because of what their relationship was in the past. Caught between his human side and his immortal one. The guilt helped keep America in check because he didn’t want England seeing the lustful way he’d begun to look at him. Then they started living together and England was suddenly vulnerable. Vulnerable in more ways than America was aware. Which is another vital detail of how the creator keeps America sympathetic, but more on that in a moment. England willingly went blind so he wouldn’t have to see when America - the man grown from the child he raised - looked at him with lust. The guilt America felt peaked, only to clash with the realisation that he could freely indulge in his fantasies. Indulge and push (again, chocolate bar scene) now the usual moral restraint - England seeing his desire - was removed.

Meanwhile, England himself felt that same guilt but his was also laced with panic and despair. He didn’t want to lose or strain his relationship with the most important person of his centuries long life. Pulled between human standards of morality and the very inhuman existence of nation-people. Incidentally the clash between their existence as humans, while also being something more than human, is brilliantly done in AitD. It’s something that’s hard to get right - especially involving such taboo topics - but Hotama nails it. USUK usually handwaves the implications around England raising America, but here it’s made part of the narrative. Part of the tragedy, part of the resolution. Good stuff. Anyway, England begged Arthur to take his sight away so he wouldn’t have to see the way America looked at him. Then banished Arthur back into the dark in an attempt to run away from his problems. But without Arthur - without his strength - England couldn’t stand up to America when he needed to. Not that America was aware of any of this because he never knew about Arthur. Which brings me to point three: nuance of blame.

“Blame” is a very loaded word in this context, so I’ll do my best to talk about this carefully. Rape in the media is almost always black and white. Absolutely evil, irredeemable rapist. Absolutely blameless, sympathetic victim. But real life isn’t always that simple. Obviously the rapist is always the perpetrator and the one most in the wrong. I need to make that very clear. But the scene in AitD illustrates that sometimes a victim could have done more to help themselves. Not always, but sometimes. This is a delicate subject so I hope you understand I’m not trying to victim blame. Just saying that rape, like all crimes, doesn’t always deal in absolutes. Unlike media, real life is often complicated and tragic. Good people can give in to temptation. Be weak, do bad things, or allow those bad things to happen. England told America to stop, but failed to follow it up when needed. When America pushed for more and used England’s own words to argue he’d already been given consent, that was when England needed to push back. Interpretation comes in here but, personally, I think if England had told America to stop when prompted, America would have. But England didn’t and he gave in instead. Something America took as a tacit “yes.” Again, not right, but understandable in how it could happen. Their power imbalance had grown extreme, stress and feelings were running high, they were struggling to connect as they used to, England’s prior cowardice and separation from Arthur prevented him from being strong when he needed to be, America was ignorant of his problem, and it all came together in a horrible, tragic mistake. All throughout, the rape continued to be brilliantly, awfully realistic. America not noticing - either genuinely or from denial - that England was not enjoying what was happening. England quickly becoming too distracted by the pain to do anything other than focus on enduring it. Then the aftermath where America didn’t realise what he’d just done due to coming down from a post-sex, post-stress euphoria. Awful, miserable, horrifying, tragic, perfectly crafted scene.

Which brings me to my final reason why this comic impressed me in its depiction of rape: where the story goes from there. Where it goes and how the narrative builds from the rape instead of trying to move on because the “shocking” part is over and now we’re in diminishing returns. Going back to my first point, too many stories see rape as something that happens in an isolated part of the narrative. It happened, it was shocking and brutal, now it’s done and we can move on because we didn’t plan to interweve the rape with the rest of the story. So we won’t give it the weight it needs. At best the victim might get a few scenes expressing their trauma later on - maybe a callback or two - but that’s it. It’s shallow. Plenty of fictional rapes could be replaced with a savage beating and nothing would change. In the worst cases you could remove the rape, not replace it with anything, then run the story with minimal problems. Not so in AitD. There, the rape isn’t just another semi-important plot point. It’s a crucial one which couldn’t be replaced with anything else. The whole first part of the story, the engine of the narrative, is built around America and England failing to deal with their changing relationship. A relationship between a pair of humans who also happen to be strange, immortal beings that ordinary humans can’t understand. Changing from platonic/familial to romantic over hundreds of years. With romance comes lust. Lust can be perfectly healthy just like any other bodily appetite. In this case it became twisted by circumstance, and the only “suitable” narrative payoff was rape. Nothing else would have had the necessary impact.

Then there’s how the rape compares to the final sex scene in some classic narrative juxtaposition. The final sex scene which happens to be the only one in the comic that’s fully consensual on both sides. The one that goes beyond sex and becomes real, honest to goodness lovemaking. It’s a perfect contrast. The rape scene had all the trappings of a classic romance. Right down to it being their first time and taking place in a rose garden. But it’s tragic, horrifying, and deeply unsexy. Then, near the end of their story, America and Arthur get lost on their road trip and have sex in their car. Their crappy, cramped car, where they’re surrounded by ordinary luggage, both of them sweaty and a little cranky with each other after a long day. It’s awkward, ordinary, imperfect and gorgeous. If we didn’t have the rape before to show us the nadir of this relationship, the healing and the dawn that came after wouldn’t be half so meaningful. A very strange thing to say without context, but it was a perfectly done rape that gave the audience the payoff of perfectly done lovemaking. It’s no small feat to get a reader to cheer for a romantic resolution after all of the above. Kind of in awe of Hotama’s skills, I tell you what.

Up to this point and I don’t know what else there is to say other than, geez. This comic, man. Blew me away. I’m so happy I rediscovered my interest in Hetalia if for no other reason than I got to read Arthur in the Dark. I’m a bit of a bookworm in my spare time and I’ve read quite a lot of classic literature over the years. Classic literature with rape scenes not crafted half so well as AitD did. Really think about that. An amateur fan comic based on a jokey gag series about national personifications being silly with each other. Did better at something than the books we hold up as the best of the best. Can’t really say anything else than that is genuinely bloody amazing

[lucdoodle]

1, 2, 4, 7, 12, 23 foe Adam!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? Oh man! Where to begin!! I like his personality, design, concept, and the implications of what his story was/is off-screen and how it plays with the relationship he has with other characters that know him for a long time (read here: Lucifer, Lilith, Eve, Lute, Sera, and older angel in general.) As well as the implications of how his life in Heaven is like and how other angels sees him. All the implications who derives from the mere concept of his character are- !!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a lot of fun to think about!!

2. Favorite canon thing about this character? 1- His relationship with Lute! 2- How he's genuinely an asshole lol (im very much not in the "adam did nothing wrong" group.) This dude is an apathetic asshole and an incredibly interesting character!

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in? Oh boi, a series of shorts like the "Helluva shorts", except that they'd be about Adam's life in Heaven pre-canon!

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like? Exploring the implications!!! Taking the crumbs of informations we know about him and making whole cakes with it!! Also im a big fan of any fanfics that explores (even if briefly!) the relationship between Adam and Sera (in a platonic way, i mean.) I particularly love both the interpretations of 1- Sera thinking about the lost potential, and how Adam evolved and changed, did he changed or was he always like that? Was it the apple and thus Lucifer's fault? Or was he always like that? Since we know Sera was in heaven before Adam died, do you think she's the one that taught him how to fly? Do you think she's the one that taught him how to live in Heaven? Do you think she's the one that was put in charge of taking care of the first human soul? And what does Sera means to Adam? (stuff like that!) And interpretation 2- Sera thinking smt like "Oh not this guy again..." as Adam kicks the doors opens with a loud "WASSUP BITCHES, Adam the man himself is here!! NOW we can start the meeting or whatever" like a "that one coworker you hate" relationship XD Both are good XD auihznkjiuhgernikjulko

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character? OHOHOH!!! Lemme pull out my list! * a comically long - seemingly endless scroll proceed to fall on the ground and gets all over the place * (Erm, but huh, more seriously i actually have a list of my headcanons for Adam so, uh, ANYWAY, here!) XD 1- his favorite food (that is not meat) is apple pie! (and he hates that it's apple pie of all things, so he doesn't eat it often at all) 2- he considers Lute "one of the boys" 3- Adam and Lute have movie nights 4- when he's in a really weird mood/feeling weird he eats apples 5- adam and lucifer were friends back in Eden 6- he's very unconfortable showing skin (which is why he wears a mask and clothes that don't show any skin) 7- his mask was originally a gift from Sera as she notived Adam didn't like being the only human in heaven in the early days where there was nothing else but angels up there 8- lucifer taught adam swear words, and told him to blame michael if Sera asked who taught him. Lucifer did it because he wanted to see the look on sera's face as he thought it'd be a funny prank 9- adam feels most comfortable sleeping on sand and dust and such since he was created from The Dust 10- emily genuinely thinks adam's mask is his face, this is a extremely popular misconception among angels 11- extremely few persons have seen adam without his mask 12- it took adam A LOT of time before he managed to eat another apple after what happened in Eden 13- he has an extremely good memory, but he only use it for things he likes or that involve him directly 14- he hates being alone 15- he adored being with and hanging out with Lucifer back in Eden, they were good friends and Lucifer taught Adam about a lot of things 16- lucifer taught adam what music was 17- adam is a very "monkey see monkey do" kind of person 18- when confused he makes a head tilt like animals do when they're confused, and he picked the way he hold his wings from watching birds 19- sera is the one that was put in charge of kicking adam and eve out of eden 20- sera will never forget the cries and begs from them and it still haunts her, meanwhile adam completely forgot that it was Sera that kicked him out of Eden

23. Favorite picture of this character? This one! simply because it shows how utterly TOL Adam is XD

But also this whole bit! For a character so self-centred, it was so cool to see him taking a support role!

[theweeklydiscourse]

The Darkling is a character that is so ostentatiously criticized because the abuse narrative in Shadow and bone does not truly challenge the reader’s preconceived notions of what an abuser is. In my opinion, the text places a great deal of emphasis on the Darkling’s attractiveness as a reason for why he is able to “get away with” the harm he inflicts on others. However, this feature ends up doing most of the heavy lifting in his manipulation and let’s the author slack off when it comes to actually showing the full measure of his deception.

We are told how bad he is retroactively, but Bardugo does little to SHOW us the more insidious and more often subtle details of the manipulation she wishes to convey. This makes the story lean onto the most obvious signifiers of the Darkling’s villainous nature (Ex. Wearing all black, using shadow magic, having the word DARK in his title) which truly does nothing to subvert the reader’s expectations of the story.

“ You mean to tell me that Professor Shadow McDarkness at the University of Evil was a bad guy this whole time??”

So when it is finally revealed to the reader that he was evil all along, they can feel a sense of satisfaction in recognizing the completely obvious signs that the darkling was a bad guy and act as though they have discovered something unheard of. Bardugo could have leaned in to using classic romance tropes for the purpose of manipulation and actually tried to develop that kind of relationship between and Alina and the Darkling through foreshadowing and character interactions. She could have written the Darkling’s manipulation of Alina as having an actual and profound impact on her mental state but instead chose to create a shallow dynamic in which the Darkling is a cartoonish shadow that couldn’t be taken seriously if you tried. This gets even worse in the show of course, where the Darkling is such an incompetent buffoon that to call him a “terrifying and cruel manipulator” is positively laughable.

The Darkling being a twist villain is not nearly as clever as some people believe it is and it seems people uphold him as a #subversive character only serves a vainly self righteous reading of the text. Honestly, most of this type of commentary is deeply uncritical of a flawed series and opts to deride people who disagree with their interpretations as just “reading it wrong”.

A skillful manipulator? A deceptively evil man? Don’t make me laugh. The Darkling is so frequently bonked on the head by the idiot stick that he remains severely concussed for most of the series.

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ TAP OUT (christian cage x reader)

ೃ༄ pairing: christian cage x fem!reader (ft. brother!edge)

ೃ༄ requested by: anon

Hi! Is there anyway I can request a Christian x Female!Reader one shot? Maybe she’s Adam’s younger sister and Christian’s girlfriend and she’s teaming with them against the Hardy’s and Lita and she ends up seriously injured and the boys are there with her the whole time taking care of her? Fluffy and angsty if possible please?

ೃ༄ warnings: light swearing, mentions of injury, inconsistent use of christian/jay and edge/adam

ೃ༄ word count: 2.1k

ೃ༄ note: hi anon!! i hope this is similar to what you wanted <3 i got off track with the hurt/comfort elements and the connection with jay hehe <3

the shout of the crowd was always the most exhilarating part of a match. standing against the turnbuckles, a perfect mirror image of lita on the other side of the ring, listening as your team partners worked the crowd from the ropes either side of you. it was your favourite part of the group you worked with, the dynamic which had your partners being the ones to act as your hype men, leaving you to revel in the energy before kicking off every match you began. it worked, and the crowd loved it, even if your positions were meant to be that of heel. it was hard to deny your popularity — no matter how much vince tried to push for the opposite.

if you glanced to your left, you’d see the man you loved bouncing so elegantly off of the mixed reaction from the crowd. it was hard to not spend your time staring at him, to keep your focus on intimidating the opponent when he just looked so good. but it was always worth it when you got the win.

even now, as christian jumped down from the middle rope, taking his place by your side and wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours, ignited by a holler of cheers from the crowd. they always ate up every moment the two of you showed your relationship on stage — and when they found out that relationship extended beyond storylines? well, your popularity skyrocketed.

what made it even more perfect was the perfect play from edge, rolling his eyes as he joined you by your right side. it was perfect really, the idea that your big brother hated your relationship but fought alongside you for the sake off the team — when in reality, adam loved the two of you together. sure, backstage his jokes never ceased, and you were more than often third wheeling with jay and adam as opposed to the other way around, but the in ring reactions he always had just added to your determination to prove yourself as a power couple.

the hardy siblings took their place by lita, jeff, unbeknownst to the crowd, sending a wink your way. and then the match was set.

the referee took his place, and amongst the crowd’s screams you could hear edge’s whisper of ‘let’s kick some ass’, coupled by one last squeeze of your hand from your boyfriend to your other side, before he launched into his signature pendulum kick to defend from matt hardy’s oncoming attack.

it was only up from there, elbow body shots all around, coupled with more than exhilarating special abilities you weren’t even aware your opponents had. no amount of fight calls could prepare you for some of the moves lita pulled on you, but you were always prepared with reversals when you got the chance. behind every move you could feel the crowd’s cheering thrumming in your veins, pushing you to get out of any compromising position to turn it around with your own abilities. you even attempted your brothers signature spear, knowing he’d rip you for it after the match.

at one point, christian managed to get jeff hardy with his killswitch, but the man, as planned, kicked out at the last second.

then, it all went wrong.

vaguely, you could see the hardy boyz and high impact battling it out in a series of moves you couldn’t pinpoint, as you were focused on defending yourself against lita’s own high power attacks.

as she went to performance her signature moonsault, the plan called for you to reverse her mid air, but as her body collided with yours, the sudden, piercing pain in your leg caused for you both to go tumbling to the floor. you hit the surface harder than expected, lita’s weight on top of you an added pressure as something twinged in all the wrong ways. she knew immediately what had happened, and quicker than expected the woman was playing it off but wasting no time in leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” she questioned in the privacy of just the both of you, face positioned in the crowds blind spot.

you nodded, expecting to be able to walk it off. as you rose to continue with the planned moves, the pain in your leg became unbearable, and before you had even stood to full attention, you were back down on the surface of the ring.

this time, lita wasn’t the only one to turn her attention to you. previously engaged in their own personal battles, christian was the first to react, immediately giving some sort of signal to his currently one of the brothers so that he could attend to your side. edge held up appearances, taking on both of the hardy brothers but you were sure they were all watching you from the side.

christian’s hands were on your waist, momentarily dulling the spiking pain from below your waist. “y/n? you okay?”

you went to nod your head, halt your boyfriends worries before they began, but the pain returned tenfold and all you could manage was a pained yell as you gripped at one of his forearms weaker than before. christian knew immediately, his unoccupied hand raising to your cheek as he tried shallowly to comfort you between pulses of pain. there were some words exchanged between him and lita, sounds you couldn’t quite make out amongst the ache, and then the referee was signalling with crossed arms for a time out.

finally, amongst keeping up appearances, your brother rushed to your side, no longer occupied by the hardy siblings. he was behind christian, just as worried but without knowing where you were hurt, not wanting to touch incase of causing further harm. christian was vaguely saying something to him in the background, but his hands were just as grounding before.

from the side of the ring, you could see the medics appear through the ropes, and even as they pushed everyone away, christian remained by your side.

somewhere in your peripheral, lita was explaining what happened to the medical professionals, but all you could focus on was your boyfriends soft whispers, shrouded by anxiety.

“can you move? can you sit up?” before you could even answer, christian was peppering you with concern again “you haven’t hurt your back right? shit — if you’ve hurt your back—“

you squeezed his arm before he could panic anymore. “i’m okay. my backs fine it’s just— my leg— i think i tore something—“

there was a gentle hand in your hair, brushing back strands whilst you lay until the medics shifted your leg, and you couldn’t help the guttural scream that left your throat. you were suddenly being shifted, your leg in the air as they put some strap to provide pressure, the pain unbearable until your head was being moved too. whilst they iced your muscle down the best they could, christian had moved until your head was placed gently on his thighs. hands caressing your hair and whatever inch of you he could reach in a pale but appreciated nonetheless.

“jay—“ you whined weakly, reaching your hand as far as it could go to tap his thigh. he was there on instant, tangling your fingers together and bringing his lips down to press a kiss to your knuckles. you could hear a cheer at the action, some concerned, some maybe convinced it was all part of it, but all you cared about right now was keeping your attention on christian. “it hurts.”

“i know. i know baby.” and he did better than anyone. you had been there by his side through more than one injury, and now it seemed it was time for him to do the same. one of the medics said something to him, and then christian was turning his attention back to you. “can you get up, sweetheart? i’ll help you.”

your attempt to nod was muffled by the awkward position you were in, but then christian was moving from under you until he could firmly grab at both of your hands. you tried to place your uninjured foot to pull you up, but it was to little avail, having to rely on your boyfriends strength alone to get you standing. the second you were back on your feet (or foot, considering your current predicament), edge was back by your side, and the boys took their positions under each of your arms.

a firm, yet caring hand on your bare stomach drew your attention to you brother.

“you still with us, champ?” he joked, pulling a weak smile of you as the two men helped you through the ropes.

you barely remembered the journey backstage, too busy thinking about the repercussions of whatever you had pulled — or worse, torn. but there was no need to worry about that now when your boys were on either side, attentive as ever to every need.

it brought you back to the time you received your first injury, nothing more than a dislocated shoulder shortly after your debut.

christian and you weren’t together back then, but it was certainly the beginning of something. you remembered sitting in the hospital, way past visiting hours, with a worried adam to your side, hand tightly gripping yours. jay was there too, refusing to leave despite his lack of full association to you. it was the first moment you realised how deeply he cared for you.

it was all very deja vu now, except this time, it was jay holding your hand in the medical room, with adam pacing back and forth like a mad man whilst you waited to be attended to. he was, if you even glanced for a moment, furious.

ignoring adam’s internal plight, jay lowered his voice, skin still clammy from adrenaline, but warn as you leant into him. “you were a beast out there, injury or not.” he emphasised his words with a kiss to your temple, pulling the briefest of smiles out of your anxious self.

“what happens now?” you whispered, the turmoil evident as ever in your voice. jay could only shrug, pressing another soft kiss to your temple before you adjusted your position so you could press your lips against his.

“whatever happens, we’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?” he rested his forehead against yours, revelling in the moment until the sound of your brother’s pacing pulled him out of the moment “adam, you ass, you’re worrying her more.”

adam turned to his best friend, fury evident on his face but features relaxing the moment you sent him a sympathetic look. “i’m just pissed, they should have been more prepared for something like this in such a high stakes match.”

“no one can predict it,” you empathised, leaning into jay’s side as you spoke “nothing was botched, i just clearly had my leg in the wrong position.”

“still! why is no one here attending to you? if you’ve torn your acl and they’re off gallivanting around—“

“adam.” jay spoke sternly, his hand not holding yours outstretched in a pause symbol.

glancing between the two of you, the harsh lines on adam’s forehead didn’t disappear until you outstretched your unoccupied arm to him. you could see the moment he battled with the internal angel and devil, before his face softened and he stepped towards you, taking your hand tightly in both of his and placing an extended kiss to the available skin.

you let yourself relax for a moment, head lolling against jay’s shoulder whilst your brother crouched down in front of you. your leg was still strapped from foot to thigh, no one wanting to take any chances, but you tried just for a moment to ignore what was to come and revel in the moment with your fellow company.

adam was in deep thought, allowing you just a moment of reprise in which you turned your head up to see jay already looking down at you. his brow was creased in concern, and you couldn’t help but release his hand to run your thumb along his temple, smoothing out the lines that had appeared. despite the circumstances, he offered you a soft smile.

“no matter what happens, i’m proud of you, you know that?” he spoke quietly, leaning into your touch as your hand rested against his cheek.

“i know.” you whispered in response. amongst everything, one thing you would never doubt was jay’s care for you, and the pride the man carried whenever he saw you in action. “i’ll be okay right?”

jay glanced in adam’s direction. you weren’t sure if the older of the two was looking, but there was an understanding that flashed across your boyfriends eyes before he turned back to face you. “as long as we’ve got each other, right?”

you smiled, lifting your lips to his in another soft kiss. “as long as we’ve got each other.”

a/n: thank you for such a cute request anon!! i always have fun writing any dynamic that involves jay/adam as they are my faves <3 i hope this at least somewhat did justice to your request!

[luciaiscool7]

What We Do In The Shadows: Vampires and the Supernatural

A Gothic double refers to a character which exhibits a sort of split personality, such as Jekell and Hyde, and is a gothic literary trope that has been appropriated in neo-Gothic tv series, such as Penny Dreadful. Dina Pedro extends the idea of a Gothic double in her work ‘We’re Going to Make You into a Proper Woman’:

“Neo-Gothic fiction portrays an insidious Other that can neither be contained nor controlled. This could be interpreted as a subversive representation of postmodern anxieties— including gender oppression and patriarchal violence—through familiar Gothic elements such as ‘supernaturalism, excess or Medievalism,’” (196).

In What We Do In The Shadows (2019-present) all the main characters, minus one human, are vampires, so the premise is set up for what we consider “supernatural” to be natural, and for humans to be the outlying Other. The show does not contain a viable example of a Gothic double, but it does investigate other-ness and what can be considered supernatural through the story. What We Do In The Shadows is a comedy mockumentary of the lives of 3 vampire roommates, which takes some inspiration from historic vampires as well as the gothic literary trope (within a mockumentary setting) of characters telling their own stories within a broader narrative.

The origins of each vampire determine their relationship with the “supernatural." The vampire Nadja is from 15th century Antipaxos, a small island in the Mediterranean, and her husband, Lazlo, is from 17th or 18th century England, and considers himself a “man of science.” When Nadja warns the other vampires of supernatural occurrences throughout the show, Lazlo and Nandor often dismiss her as superstitious until she is proved right and she ultimately saves them. Interestingly, this both affirms the gendered binary of supernatural/science through the roles of Nadja and Lazlo, and subverts it. What We Do In The Shadows recontextualizes the usually debunked idea of “supernatural” as real in this mockumentary series: making Nadja, who falls into the trope a hysterical superstitious woman, right, and Lazlo, who is the “man of science and enlightenment,” wrong and ridiculous with his 17th century scientific logic. The show uses the gendered supernatural/science binary for comedic purposes and shows the ridiculousness of the binary in the first place. For example, in one episode, the house is haunted by ghosts, and Lazlo refuses to believe it, citing a potion of metal, gas and yellow bile as the true ghost. When he’s proven wrong, he pretends that he doesn’t see the ghost to save face (which he argues is to catch the ghost by surprise) and Nadja ultimately takes the problem seriously and solves it herself.

More than being vampires, the immortality of the vampires liberates them from traditional gender roles. All three main vampires come from different time periods and countries and were socialized with different gender roles as humans, and have been allowed to change and grow over the course of 500+ years. In terms of gender performativity through clothing, the vampire’s wardrobes are tied to their cultural upbringing, some of which breaks modern gender presentation because ideas of gender change over time and have changed since the vampires were alive. On the other hand, the freedom of the vampires to express themselves as those who aren’t held down to finite human expectations of gender allows for experimentation in gender performance. This disconnect from human small-mindedness also liberates them from oppressive normalcy, coupled with access to supernatural powers and creatures. It is also implied that all of the vampires are queer, and their relationships are brought up very casually- it is clear that they are liberated from shame and social expectations of gender and sex due to their supernatural immortality and disconnect from human social expectations. A great example of this is Nandor and his 37 wives that he has a djinn reincarnate later in the show:

Immortality also allows the vampires to transcend the idea of reward or punishment- they will outlive any moral ideas of repercussions, and the format of a 20 minute episode based comedy show doesn’t allow for many hard endings with set morals. Immortality liberates them from facing human social expectations, and the only real downside they can face is time: they can never really return to what they used to know and they have to continually readjust with the times.

Discussion Questions:

How does portraying vampires from their perspective change the human one we usually see which depicts vampires as a stand-in Other?

What are the advantages and disadvantages of telling supernatural stories from a comedic perspective?

Although immortality (and other forms of excessive supernatural power) is liberating, it can also be a curse- where is that line? 

@theuncannyprofessoro

[lyrakarma]

In the Arms of My Love

Summary: just a cute little thing I'm writing off the cuff. Could be part of a series of one shots. Lyra and Jake share a moment before she has to get up for work <3 sweetness and fluff ^^

Warnings: none, just sweet fluff <3 possibly bad translated Spanish and German, I used Google translate and I'm slowly learning German myself

They didn't sleep together in the same room or bed very often. Lyra could possibly count on a hand and a half how many times they slept together since getting married. For most, they wouldn't see this as a legitimate marriage, but Lyra Shelby-Lockley took this more than seriously.

They were married before the gods after all.

So getting up from bed early to get ready for work was always a challenge. But it had to be done. Leaving the warmth of his arms was the worst and hardest part, especially nowadays with it being cold and all. On top of that, Jake was a cuddler, he clung to Lyra like she was the only person on earth. He held her tight, even in his dreams, and Lyra understood perfectly why.

When they first met, the poor man thought himself unlovable. Nobody had really given Jake the time of day, barely even his alters at the time. Jake Lockley was a love hungry, touch starved man with a longing heart buried deep under his usual brutality. Something about that just hooked Lyra in. It was like he existed to be loved by her.

So now he was doing his usual clinging and cuddling her close and Lyra knew he was awake. She smiled sweetly against him, reveling in his warmth, his scent, and breathing. Lyra gently caressed down his chest, just over his heart before moving her head to kiss his neck.

"Mein falke, I have to get up" she told him.

"Not yet, gatita. Just a little longer...por favor?" Jake replied, still a bit drowsy. (Kitten, please)

"Sweetheart...it's six. I gotta get up to get ready" Lyra's smile didn't fade, "bitte...". (Please)

Jake shook his head and ran a hand through her thick dark brown hair. "Quédate conmigo" (stay with me)

"Honey I just looked at my bank account" she playfully lied, "ich muss gehen" (I have to go).

Jake kissed her head a small number of times, something she absolutely adored. Even so, he held her tight. Jake laughed softly.

"You're not in until noon, gatita-".

"And I still have to get ready because someone decided to distract me from my routine last night".

"Eh, lo disfrutaste". (Eh, you enjoyed it.)

"Not saying I didn't" Lyra giggled softly, planting more kisses on his neck, "aber entscheidungen haben konsequenzen" (but choices have consequences)

"Sigue haciendo eso y tendrás más consecuencias". (Keep doing that and you'll have more consequences.)

"Oh hush you" Lyra shifted a bit so she could put her hands on either side of Jake's handsome face, "what am I ever gonna do with you?".

Jake smiled and without missing a beat he answered: "Love me, feed me, never leave me".

Lyra rolled her eyes but she knew she would never get enough of that damn smile. She loved it so much. She loved him with all she had.

Even without murderous intent, most folks would've found Jake Lockley's smile unnerving. But not Lyra, not his sweetheart. She had come into his life like a warm ray of sunlight after a long winter. Lyra alone could warm and soften his heart, rendering him near harmless.

In her arms he found refuge and the love he had so very much desired for years. In her arms he found his equal. He could forget about who and what he was. All that mattered was he was hers. That was a gift he would always treasure. Always.

In his arms, Lyra found her safest place. She found the place where not even her resentment could get to her. With Jake, she forgot about the wrongs done to her and others she loved. Her role as a hero didn't matter when he held her. She could just be who she was and be loved for it. For that, Lyra was eternally grateful.

She smiled sweetly and snuggled more into him. "Okay, nur noch fünf munuten..." (okay, just five more minutes)

[candykid16]

Who’s in for some lore?

Once more going in with my rabbids invasion oc — Dr.RoseGold. Describing the 3 main stages of her life.

Stage #1 — Her first wedding: Little Rosita(Rosie) was a miraculously beautiful girl. In fact, at the youngest ages, she was so pretty that she was constantly given the wrong attention. When her mother realized this, she believed her daughter would be the perfect advantage for wealth. By that, I mean marrying her off to wealthy men whose eyes were caught by the child’s looks. Soon her mother managed to arrange a marriage with a man more than twice Rosie’s age. The poor thing was unaware until she got to the venue. Sweet little Rosie was scared and confused with the sudden turn of events. She wanted to go home, but was easily manipulated by her mother; her mother often told her that their money was very short. So from then on, she was forced to believe she had no choice. Therefore she was first forcefully married to her 25 year old husband at the age of 10. But that was just the first, for after two years, that man would be divorced, with a loss of all of his money. And so would happen to the next man, and then the next…

Stage #2 — Teen’s Torment: While in school, Rosita’s marriage spree was the talk of the town; word spread quicker than wildfire. And by high school, while boys swarmed and followed her all over, girls were whispering and talking, calling her every name they knew. It pained her greatly. By now she was 16 and married to her 4th husband. This man was highly cruel to Rosita as he was entitled for her respect(all of them were actually). So she’s taken a long series of scars and bruises, and her mother didn’t even care, as long as she had access to his money. It was already bad enough that nobody would allow her to study science or robotics as they believed she could never be good at such a thing, she knew that, but the only thing they would tell her is “you shouldn’t have to ruin that pretty face of yours”. Every time she heard that, she would be more and more aggravated. The last straw for her was when her husband straight up cut her lower right leg off because his own money was running low and wanted more. At that point, she was done. And so by age 18, not only was her husband divorced and broke, she was also finished with high school. So before her mother could arrange another marriage, Rosita ran away from home, going for a new dawn.

Stage #3 — Rosegold: 7 years have passed, Rosita is now 25 years old. She is finished with college with a degree for robotics. Of course as usual, no one took her seriously because of her gender and physical appearance. As much as she was hoping people would take her more seriously regarding her work, she was wrong. In fact, every time she were to complete a project, and everyone would see it, they would turn to a man who wasn’t even involved. It was also never helpful that he just took the credit. One day, she finished a project and some random bastard took credit, as usual. However, something went wrong—the machine began to misfire, and it was even said that two or three people were killed. The man was later arrested and the machine was demolished. And Rosita felt amazing putting the bastard in his place. And so this gave her the idea to become the best. Not just showing a few mere people, but the entire world that she is more than just a pretty face. The only problem she had was…rabbids. She knew the rabbids would be in the way and foil her plot. She did have the idea to eradicate them all. But then she observed from afar, she was then convinced that they could be of actually good use to her! She had been studying them to see what they could do in her bidding. She still is. During that, she had been able to buy her manor and construct her laboratory while also keeping it convincingly hidden. Thus Dr.Rosegold was born.

[aerislei]

rwby volume 9 spoilers / conclusion / thoughts. seriously there are spoilers below the cut I warned you.

First I want to say if you're looking for hard criticism you're in the wrong place. I also want to say I will 100% just block anyone who wants to bash rwby/the volume/etc.

That out of the way, I will concede that there are things I wish we'd seen that we didn't, etc, but this was a Really good volume in my opinion, and I genuinely think people who are calling it filler weren't paying attention.

This volume was a much needed breath of fresh air - for us, and for the girls (+jaune). It gave us a little space from Salem, room to confront some interpersonal issues and come back stronger.

This volume is equivalent to that arc in most anime where the protag spends a shitload of time training bc they got their ass beat, only the "training" wasn't exactly physical.

Ruby finally breaking under the Weight!? Incredible. Loved it. Tore my heart out. And the horror I felt when neo!jabberwalker just had her pinned down and she saw all those horrible things??? -chefs kiss- her explosion? completely understandable! like did they deserve it, no but like neither did Ruby.

The pain was so real, so visceral, the moment between the sisters. Yang's older sister "hey" as in "hey you're going too far" was perfect. Jaune blowing up at Ruby! I wasn't so sure about it at the time, bc I was frustrated about him taking center stage from ruby, given how often that happens. But it was an IMPORTANT moment!

God I loved it so much, and then Ruby bolting off, because she Knows in her heart that Jaune was right, neo was after her, and staying puts them in danger but also she was so angry and hurt and she knew if she stayed it wouldn't get better??? man. MAN.

I will, however, be seeking emotional damages from RT over the Neo fight because Holy Shit. No right, there was no right! Them all taunting her! And saying those horrible things! And beating the shit out of her- I just. I was like, sick, through the entire episode. It hurt so much. But it was also so well done??? As in, the perfect series of knives to break her down.

Also loved the touch of like the illusions changing shapes after Ruby cuts down oscar while trying to defend herself from oz. I just- god. Clover becoming Qrow? Reminding us that Ruby doesn't really know what happened to him? Nvm Jaune and her team and- god.

And her team gets there, and god ruby may not even realize they're *real* and not more illusions. But it doesn't matter. The quietly defeated look she gives them while basically maintaining eye contact and drinking was just. horrifying. The discovery that the cat was doing this all along? That Jaune was right? maaan.

Every time Ruby started to talk about things, Something Else happened. Every time her team tried to ask her if she was okay. Something happened. They tried, I'm not going to say they didn't. But it was so well orchestrated. I had to rewatch to see all the little bits of the cat deliberately pulling attention. And like the only reasons he rly saved them from the caterpillar was to make sure ruby didn't actually ascend??

Also that scene. W/ the herbalist. Was so beautiful. Like, getting to see how far her teammates have come and how strongly they feel about their answers, compared to when they were originally asked a similar question all the way back in mountain glen. They could have had anything they wanted and they chose themselves as they were without hesitation. In contrast to Ruby, who knew back in mountain glen what she was and what she wanted, but now unable to fully accept that she can still be those things because she has 'failed'.

The grappling with their choices in Atlas, and how it had to mean something that they got all those people out, but not really knowing what awaited them in Vacuo.

I know there's a lot of criticism about the suicide allegory and i can... understand why. But I also think that the way it was handled is better than most people have given it credit for. Ruby chose herself. Given the option to set down everything that hurt, everything that was too much. She chose to pick up her burden and carry it herself.

Which brings me to why. To summer. To what she saw. The blacksmith had asked her to imagine the woman who might wield a weapon, and asked if ruby could feel the weight of her. But then Ruby sees summers weapon and reaches for it, and for just a moment, she sees the last night her mother was home.

And at first she is (rightfully!) angry and upset, because what she saw doesn't line up with what she'd been told. Summer lied! Raven knows something she never told them! Maybe the lesson is that she should just give up.

But it isn't, and after a moment Ruby realizes that too. The lesson is that no one is perfect. That the ideal she was setting herself against wasn't real. And it never could be! Because she (and her mother!) are human and people make mistakes.

And it was so, so good to see Ruby piece that together and choose herself. To find her feet. To be able to help her team in their 11th hour fight against the cat so that they could all go home, together.

And like RWBY has done a good job in the past of having a character have this moment of things looking up, and stepping forward, but it's never actually been the end of the arc, and I'm confident that when we get volume 10 we'll still see Ruby grappling with the issues that brought her to her knees in volume 9. She still needs to talk about things. She still need to learn to ask for help. But we saw that with Yang - when she finally left home to rejoin the fight she wasn't perfect yet, she wasn't back to 100%. She was better, but she wasn't back to her old self.

We'll see the same with Ruby, I'm sure of it. (and Jaune too!) We'll see them keep struggling and growing. This season was the beginning, was their first steps on the road to some semblance of recovery. It wasn't the end of the journey.

There are still a thousand things I want to say, including SO much about summer but I think im going to post this and write that separately. Ahahaha.

[irikahkrios]

i need you guys to understand. i fucking LOVE the "robot is a person who fights to find their place in the world and be seen as alive" trope. i ADORE it. i think data from star trek is one of the greatest fictional characters of all time. i love edi's plotline in me3. i get upset when any droid in star wars dies. i still cry when i think about bicentennial man. i feel crazy at the thought that people might see me talk about my hatred of the geth and think that i hate fictional robots or something. as an autistic person i feel a ton of kinship with robot characters bc they're so often used as a metaphor for "person trying to understand social cues and fit in and be accepted in society."

the problem is that with the geth, bioware did NOT write a "these robots are people who want to be seen as alive" plot. they wrote a nonsensical plot twist/retcon after spending two and a half games establishing that the geth are a soulless robot army that attempted literal genocide against the quarians (arguably the most sympathetic species in the series), and are never portrayed as anything more than this. they're servants of the reapers. they're helping them to murder and/or reaperize every species in the galaxy. the writers actually had a really good opportunity to make us think of the geth as alive or sympathetic, with the geth unit you capture on the reaper iff mission in me2 and can keep on the normandy if you want. but they chose not to make it alive/sympathetic, you can talk to it and it's literally like talking to cleverbot or something. you never get the sense that there's any kind of sapience there.

there's no attempt to portray the geth as sapient or sympathetic until two-thirds of the way through me3, when the writers suddenly start beating you over the head with characters telling you that ohhh no the geth are ALIVE actually!! this unit has a soul or whatever the fuck!!! and retconning the events of the geth's attempted murder of all the quarians to try and make the geth seem like the sympathetic party. and it never feels like anything more than an attempt at some of that classic bioware Forced Gray Morality, where there's an obvious right side and wrong side but the writers bend over backwards to treat the situation as "morally gray" even when it so clearly isn't. it's so bizarre and out of place with everything in the games thus far that i find it impossible to actually take it seriously.

the end result is really more insulting than anything. it feels like the writers are going "ohh, you spent the last two games thinking the quarians were sympathetic? haha, don't you feel stupid now that This Unit Has A Soul?? you dumb idiot baby, the ACTUAL morally correct action is to help the robots MURDER the quarians! or make 'peace' to give the robots an opportunity to murder them later! you dipshit!" like it just feels like a cheap ass pull for the sake of subverting expectations. it feels insulting to my intelligence as a player, because to take it as canon you need to throw out everything the writers established up until that point. (and don't even get me STARTED on the fucking paragon/renegade points.)

the quarian/geth conflict could have actually been morally gray if they'd wanted it to be. make the situation a bit less black and white from the start, rather than portraying one side as wholly in the right and the other as wholly in the wrong and then suddenly switching them when they wanted to subvert players' expectations. make that "legion" geth unit an actual character, give it interesting things to say, make players form an attachment to it instead of having it just be a thing that stands on your ship and responds to questions with soulless answers like "there was a hole." make us truly feel that this was a conflict between two peoples, instead of the writers suddenly telling you to enable the robot apocalypse. i mean idk i think i'd still have some problems with it, i mean the geth still did all that horrible shit to the quarians. but if we'd gotten the sense at any point that the geth were sapient people, it would have felt more like the morally gray situation the writers were going for in me3 and less like the "oh haha the quarians are the Bad Guys now kill them kill them kill them" shit that they actually wrote in me3.

basically what i'm trying to say is that there's a universe out there where bioware actually put in the work from the first or second game, and actually wrote the geth in a way that made them come off as a group of sapient individuals instead of a soulless hive mind murderbot army trying to kill my shepard's best friend and her entire species. if we lived in that universe we wouldn't be having this conversation. but we don't, so we are.

[arthurdrakoni]

The Dial-Up follows two dudes, one in 2022 and one in 1999, communicating over the Internet. It is also about the power of the Internet to bring us closer together for the better. This is my review.

The Dial-Up begins with a Scottish tech support worker named Lewis. It isn’t the most glamorous job, and the customers can be rather annoying, but it pays the bills. Recently, however, he’s gotten a call that has seriously spiced things up. He’s been contacted by another Scottish dude named Callum. It seems that Callum has never used the Internet before. In fact, he seems to big ignorant about quite a few things. It soon becomes clear that Callum is in the year 1999, while Lewis is in 2022. Lewis and Callum compare and contrast their respective lives. However, they also feel that fate has brought them together for a reason. But what could that reason be? 

The Dial-Up is very short. It is only four episodes long, and they clock in at a grand total of thirty-seven minutes long. Still, as is often the case, good things come in small packages.  And that’s certainly true for The Dial-Up.

The Dial-Up is very much a two-man show. Well, technically a three man show. Let’s not forget series creator Philip Catherwood. In terms of voice acting, however, The Dial-Up is carried entirely by David Hepburn and Craig McDonald Kelly. I just loved how David performed Callum as a laidback devil-pay-care kind of guy. Craig did a fantastic job performing Lewis as a sensible straight man to all of Callum’s wisecracks. 

This audio drama is a bit light on the sound-effects. We, of course, get to hear the iconic sound of a dial-up modem connecting to the Internet. We do get some cool sci-fi sound effects later on. Though, getting more specific would be spoilers. So, overall, a bit light on sound effects, but no shame in that. Honestly, David and Craig gave such wonderful and lively performances, I didn’t even notice the lack of sound effects most of the time. 

The major theme of The Dial-Up is about the power of the Internet to bring people together. I’m reminded of something Roger Ebert wrote in his review of the movie Pleasantville. He said, paraphrased, that perhaps it is true that we have more problems than people did in the past, but we also have more solutions and opportunities. Lewis bemoans 2022, and longs for the supposed simplicity of life in the 1990s. Callum is quick to point out that the 1990s had its share of problems as well. For example, yes, people did go out more to places like pubs and restaurants. However, that was because they did have any choice but to do so. Callum also points out that many people from the 1990s would kill to have access to all of the apps and Internet stuff that Lewis has at his fingertips. 

You would not be reading this review if it weren’t for the Internet. In fact, The Dial-Up, and pretty much every other audio drama I’ve reviewed, would not exist without the Internet. I’ve meet so many amazing people, and kindled so many friendships, thanks to the Internet. As an autistic person, who struggles with social anxiety, I’m forever grateful for all the ways that the Internet has helped make my life easier. The Internet helped me find seamless socks, and for that I am eternally grateful. I’ve also started branching out into voice acting. Yeah, I technically could do that without the Internet, but it would be a lot harder. 

Now, all of this isn’t to say we should all cloister ourselves away. On the contrary, sometimes it is nice to get out and about in the real world. It can be quite good to do so every now and again. Indeed, Lewis does encourage Callum to try some of the fun classes and activities that his community center offers. Any virtue taken to excess becomes a vice, as Aristotle famously noted. Hey, he might have been wrong about the youths, but he was right about that. You don’t want to spend all your time in the digital world, but that doesn’t make the Internet a bad thing. On the whole, The Dial-Up takes an optimistic view about our ability to balance cyberspace and fleshspace. 

Have you listened to The Dial-Up?  If so, what did you think?

Link to the original review on my blog: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2023/07/the-audio-file-dial-up.html?m=1 

[thrythlind]

IMPORTANT: I messed up Ambuscade's setup. He should have started with 3 devices in play (number of heroes minus 2) which would have changed things up significantly.

This is the First Post of this series:

Second Post

Third Post

Okay, now that I have the first expansion to Sentinels of the Multiverse: Definitive Edition, time to try this new version. There's a lot of mechanics changes and this has been controversial. A lot of people, including people in my family, who are upset that they declared the game finished and then revamped the whole thing with a lot of new mechanics.

Personally, I haven't owned a physical copy until now, just the digital. (That said, I would love a digital version because some of the people I play with are on entirely other continents)

Anyway, let's get on to introducing our cast of characters.

So, for our supervillain, we're going with Ambuscade: Ansel G. Moreau, world famous French action movie-star with an addiction for big-game hunting that's gone out of control. Leveraging his wealth, he hired a shady genetics company to give him superpowers, but the process went wrong, scarring his million dollar face (it's like... a line, barely perceptible... seriously there's a version of him without the mask... he's vain as hell) and now he spends his time hunting superheroes.

In the prior edition, we usually turn to Ambuscade as a palate cleanser or light game. Often the environment was more dangerous. We've described Ambuscade games as "We fought dinosaurs... also Ambuscade was there."

He is one of the villains coming in Rook City Renegades, which is a bit funny since he usually appears in Megaopolis and hunts Haka. But anyway. This edition has placed him a bit more difficult than before. I had considered fighting Spite because I've heard his redesign is really good, but Spite in the old edition is a SLOG so I decided not to for this time.

In any case, Ambuscade wields a lot of high-tech devices and weapons including booby traps, automated drones, guns and a cloaking field supported by his genetically enhanced physique and healing. In the prior edition his cloaking field was a device you had to destroy before you could attack him. In this case, the cloak comes up when he uses a One-Shot card and goes away when he plays another. He can push heroes to pull his cards off his deck and they're usually more powerful when played on a hero's turn.

Actually, there's a hero version of him called Stunt Man that also did a lot of playing cards on other people's turns and when doing so was more powerful. So it feels like they're basing the new Ambuscade on the Stunt Man version of him.

Seriously, his mechanics are basically based around making sure he's always in the spotlight.

The Wraith, Maia Montgomery, is basically this world's Batman. The ever mythical responsible billionaire superhero. During her hero career she's more an heiress than in control of her family business. She turned hero after a near fatal attack in college. So she doesn't have Batman's sheer skill, (the setting's premiere martial artist considers her form very raw but with extremely good instincts).

Later on, she starts pulling out of the field and instead using her wealth to address social issues and acting as a trainer for younger heroes, going in the field only when needed.

She's about what you expect from Batman otherwise. She is one of the founding members of the Freedom Five

The first new hero of this edition is Alpha: The Wolf Woman. A reporter with the properly comic book alliterative appeal name of Tabitha Taft, she is a werewolf who has "an above average" control of her powers. She doesn't remember when or how she got cursed and it eventually turns out she is the only known werewolf born with the curse.

She disagrees with attitudes of other werewolves who feel humans are food at best and uses her powers to investigate stories, sometimes even getting her claws a little bloody to stop things. She's not really a member of the Rook City supergroup "Dark Watch" but she knows who they are and works to keep their activities out of the newspapers as much as possible.

She has a lot of effects that just automatically trigger, but the more of these she has in play, the more likely she is to hurt other people around her. Though she has some ways to affect that.

Faye Diamond was a private investigator looking into the disappearance of her grandfather Joe (yes, from the Arkham Horror board game themed on Cthulhu myths by Fantasy Flight Games). Her search led her to infiltrate a coven of witches who had... poor control over their magics. The end result was that she was cursed (She's basically a living embodiment of the Mists of R'lyeh.) Soon after she was approached by a man offering to teach her to control her curse and learn magic.

Since then she has become effectively the world's Sorcerer Supreme and is one of the founding members of Dark Watch. Nightmist at one point was cured of her curse but decided she did not like living as a normal person and took steps to recover her misty nature. While she was missing for days from the perspective of the world, she experienced unknown centuries and came back forever divorced from her humanity, a living force of magic, but still a hero.

Nightmist does not survive the OblivAeon event that separates the card game from the RPG. During that event she expends all her effort on reaching out to countless alternate timelines to call for aid from variant heroes and in the end, her essence became the re-instated boundaries between realities. In theory, some centuries down the line she could reach out again, but for the moment, she literally stretched thin across the multiverse.

Her powers involve discarding cards and she does a lot of support effects. She is capable of dealing massive damage, but often this comes at a risk. A lot of her spells damage herself, but she gets ways to redirect that.

The Harpy, Lillian Corvus, in her teens came across a mask of immense power which hooked into her jealousy of her more famous cousin, the brilliant scientist Meredith Stinson and superhero Tachyon (this world's Flash/Reed Richards... only has impact on the world, unlike Reed). The mask drove her to become the villain Matriarch and the extent of her attack was such that she has kept a terrible reputation even though she only ever attacked once.

She spent a good long time in prison as a result, receiving constant visits and support from Meredith. Eventually she got out due to a weird confluence of events and was once again drawn to the mask, but this time her power went crazy with her birds attacking her. Meredith sought out Faye Diamond/Nightmist to help and The Harpy has become her apprentice and will eventually inherit her position as the premiere magical hero of the world.

Not a founding member of Dark Watch, but becomes a firm member eventually.

Her powers work by summoning more and more birds and, like Alpha, has a lot of effects that just trigger. Most of the consequences are directed at herself where as Alpha's attack people around her.

Imagine your mother is a fascist Canadian version of Magneto and you were born with no powers. That's the situation for Amanda Cohen. She's a mix of Nick Fury and the Punisher and has spent lots of effort building up her tactical powers and ability to face off against enemies.

While The Wraith is the Batman of the world, Expatriette is the hero who maintains plans on how to take out every super around her. (She's said it's a calming exercise for her and she does it when her boyfriend, the superhero Setback, breaks something due to his superhumanly bad luck).

Another founding member of Dark Watch along with Nightmist, her powers are about guns, bullets, and tactical plans supporting everybody around her.

Side Note: I don't know enough about their new mechanics to know what turn order position these heroes are best in, so I put them in an order based on story reasons. I have Wraith and Expat taking first and last positions as the more tactical minded members of the party, with Wraith taking point and Expat being a bit more patient and calculating by taking up the rear.

Nightmist is taking the center position as the major mentor type of the group and the two people with major control issues are on either side of her. I put Alpha next to Wraith since Wraith is one of the heroes who stopped "Matriarch" and as much as The Harpy realizes she needed to be stopped, I read her as an incredible dork and a bit nervous (manifesting as over-dramatic mannerisms) so she's distancing herself a bit from Wraith.

For an environment, I'm going with Diamond Manor. Nightmist's home and a collection of supernatural oddities. It also operates as the headquarters of Dark Watch, a hero group mostly focused on the grim Rook City and dealing with supernatural beasties, organized crime, and civic corruption. (Post OblivAeon, they do a lot of civic organizing and outreach in addition to classic superheroing)

This is a low-peril environment and it often help the heroes. The villains have less opportunity to benefit from it, but there's some dangerous stuff here.

The game starts with the Villain going first. Start of turn, Ambuscade shoots the healthiest target (Alpha) for 3 Damage (5 heroes minus 2).

Then he plays a card, Reactive Plating, this is a device not a one-shot, so he doesn't go invisible.

Then he shoots the healthiest hero, which is now The Harpy.

Now we come to Wraith and we get a chain.

In the old edition, "Impromptu Invention" was prone to causing Wraith to just explode on the field, and this is no different.

She plays Impromptu and does the following in order (I layered them a bit out of order in the image tough):

Draw a Card (a second Impromtu Invention... OMG)

Discover an Item (Throwing Knives... Discover means look and play the first card of that type, so her knives go right into play)

She may play a card if she wants to (doesn't have to)... and I have a second Impromtu so definitely playing it)

That draws her Smoke Bombs

Discovers Utility Belt

And then she plays the Smoke Bombs out

This is just her Play Phase, now it's time for Power Phase

Utility Belt lets her do two powers

She uses her inherent power "Stealth" to reduce damage against her until the next round (it used to reduce the next damage dealt and you could stack it up if she wasn't attacked, this covers multiple attacks, but won't stack)

She also uses Throwing Knives to hit Ambuscade and his Reactive Shielding. Smoke Bombs increases her damage by 1 so she gets past the -1 damage from Reactive, but she also takes damage from reactive. It wou;d normally be 4 but her stealth and smoke bombs reduce that to 2. But she did make two attacks, so she takes it twice for a total of 4

This is a VERY good first round for Wraith. Impromtu is one of her best cards and she got both copies in the first round as well as the ability to play both. Also, Utility Belt is one of her best items.

Ambuscade has taken 1 damage.

Side note, I tend to feel that the "Health" is less about health than about the countdown for the storyline.

Like, Spite's deck plays out as trying to track down a serial killer and Ambuscade's is like a cat and mouse game. So part of the "Health" is tracking down and forcing Ambuscade into a confrontation.

Alpha also has a good starting round (incidentally, it's a starting hand of 4 cards, which I didn't think to take photoes of) but not as good and she doesn't quite explode.

I have her play Hamstring which will prevent Ambuscade from dealing damage. Unfortunately it doesn't stop the Reactive Armor from dealing damage, so she still takes damage from it.

I could possibly have hamstrung the armor, but I'm a bit more concerned with the sort of big blasts Ambuscade might have coming up. I don't know what this new edition has done with him yet.

So, I've marked that Ambuscade can't deal damage until the start of Alpha's next turn.

Anyway, this moves on to her Power phase.

I use Alpha's innate power Prowl and choose to Discover an Aspect card instead of dealing damage.

I pull Fangs and Claws and reshuffle the other revealed cards back into her deck.

Note, that when a deck runs out of cards, you just shuffle the trash back into the deck. There's no decking out like in Magic: The Gathering or Hearthstone.

That said, some villains have mechanics where you will lose if their trash gets too big.

So. for Nightmist I play "Call Forth" to summon one of her items and now I'm noticing I made an error... she should have discarded the top of her deck and taken some damage casting this spell. The game is over now, so it's hard to say how this would have affected the game.

Anyway, so if you see the numbers on the deck at the bottom right of the pictures? Those number often determine the power and risk of the spells she casts. In this case, she's summoning her Phial of Exomna, an item that lets her heal, draw, or both if she doesn't mind losing the phial temporarily. If either of those cards were in the discard then she would take that "3" damage marked.

She then uses her Phial's power instead of her innate to draw 3 cards and then her normal draw phase comes and she draws a fourth card.

There is no upper hand limit, so it's entirely possible on some characters to have your entire deck in your hand. That sounds good, but it often isn't. A lot of those characters (including Nightmist here) are powered by the contents of their Trash pile, so if they have no Trash pile, then they can't do much.

Now we come to my girl. Queen of all Chip Damage (in the prior edition at least), The Harpy.

This card works a lot different from the prior edition, mostly because the prior edition's Harpy had a mechanic where she had 5 tokens which would flip between Arcane and Avian. That version of Harpy Hex would do damage whenever one of those tokens flipped. This one will deal damage whenever one of her Flock cards is destroyed.

I then used her innate power "Seeking Order" to try to deal one damage and draw 2 cards. She fails to do damage, which also means she doesn't suffer the retaliation damage.

Side note, the End Phase effect is a "May" meaning it's a choice. Thus the fact I forgot about it most of the game has no impact. That said, I definitely use it here to discover a Flock card

Harpy tends to snow ball in the older edition and seems similar here.

Also note that the Chatter of Starlings are unable to beat Ambuscade's armor so she deals no damage with them, and thus doesn't suffer damage.

So, pondering over Expatriette's options I decide to opt for Arsenal Access.

This lets her discover both a Gun and Ammo getting her the Modified SMG and the Shock Rounds out into play.

Then she uses the last line of the card to play her double-barreled shotgun.

I much appreciate the cleaner why ammo cards work here. You used to have to attach them to guns ahead of time and they would be automatically used the next time you used that gun. Now, they are played to your play area and when you use a gun, you can choose to use one of the ammos.

Afterwards the ammo is destroyed.

Side note: destroyed in this game is basically just narratively no longer available. Like if something destroys Expat's signature pistols, it's just that they're not usable for now. Maybe she was disarmed or maybe she's out of bullets for them.

Likewise, when Harpy's flocks are "destroyed" it's more like they are dispersed to their natural behaviors instead of calling to server her.

Again, while these games can be read as a single battle, it's more appropriate to view each game as a multi-issue story arc with both combat and non-combat scenes.

Speaking of that shotgun and those shock rounds... she applies them to his reactive armor, and now it's gone. Though she does take the damage in retaliation before the item is destroyed.

Now the environment has it's turn and plays The Bloodless Reliquary. Fortunately, Expat just destroyed the Reactive Armor, as such, the target with the lowest HP is now The Wraith. So it moves over to her.

Now it's Ambuscade's turn again.

He plays a Hunter Drone which attacks Nightmist.

Ambuscade also attacks Nightmist, but he's still dealing with a werewolf reporter keeping him busy (in this narrative, I'm viewing "Hamstring" as a more extended chase sequence), so he deals no damage.

Back to Wraith, and her Smoke Bombs are destroyed at the start of her turn. But then, she plays Leverage which allows her to Collect 1 card (meaning she brings it to her hand from either her Deck or Trash)... she opts to collect Smoke Bombs and bring it back to her hand. (THIS BECOMES A THEME)

She then uses Utility Belt's power to play an Item card to put Smoke Bombs back on the Field and then uses Throwing Knives to attack both the Hunter Drone and Ambuscade, doing 3 damage to each due to the Smoke Bombs and the Bloodless Reliquary boosting her damage (I'm now wondering if I forgot to apply that damage properly... ah the paranoia of going from digital version with automated bookkeeping to actual tabletop)

She draws Combat Prowess but can't play it yet.

At the end of Wraith's turn the play area with the lowest-HP target is Ambuscade's so he gets the Bloodless Reliquary now.

Start of Turn, Alpha's Hamstring power goes into the discard and Ambuscade can now do damage again. She also has her Fangs and Claws trigger, choosing to do damage to both the Hunter Drone and Ambuscade (and I'm seeing I did forget to do all of Wraith's damage, ah well, it was only 1 pt)

Since there's a limit to how many images one post can have, carrying this on later.

This is the First Post of this:

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[espinosaurusrexex]

Save Me I

College!BuckyBarnes x College!reader AU

summary: Bucky meets Y/N in a series of unfortunate events. But it doesn’t seem so bad, for some reason…

a/n: I know it’s another college au, and I am very sorry but it’s literally all I do right now. I don’t have a life. So please let me dream a little! The beginning is definitely inspired by firefighter Bucky in @foreverindreamlandd’s story In the Embers (It just happened. He popped into my head and opened up a campsite to stay for good). Read it here if you haven’t already!

word count: 7.5k

chapter warnings: *Steve Rogers voice* Language!, pessimistic world view, alcohol consumption, sexual themes but nothing detailed, kinda-meet-cute, tiny fluff

series masterlist | series playlist | read on ao3

A moron. That’s what he was. Dressed in a ridiculous costume and covered in gey-ish brown stage makeup to give the illusion of dirt and soot smeared over his exposed torso. The pants he was wearing barely held up by the uncomfortable suspenders that dug into the flesh on his shoulders and probably already left red angry marks underneath the material. He had been wearing a helmet when he entered the party, too. But God knows where that ended up. Probably some drunk girl's head after that horrifying round of seven minutes in heaven, he got dragged into an hour ago. Like seriously, how old are we?

Bucky looked like an imbecile. He stood in the corner of the Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity with a red solo cup in his hand. It was littered with angular white lines that stretched from the rim to the bottom due to the constant twitch of his hand, crushing it every time someone bumped into him. It was a miracle, really, that he had yet to spill his drink over someone dancing their way through the crowd of sweat and perfume to the bathroom door, which he assumed he was standing next to, by the number of girls entering and exiting in their little packs.

He observed the crowd. He seemed to do that a lot. At least that’s what his friend, Sam, told him on a daily basis. ‘You have a staring problem, man,’ he would say it with a disappointed look on his face, almost taunting him for letting his mind wander off to places he could only wish to be at right now. Really, he would like to be anywhere that was… not here.

The room swam in a concoction of blue and red lights, occasionally blinding the feigned “sexy firefighter” that was hiding away in the corner of the living room, having been rearranged to become an arena for horny college students, bumping and grinding each other’s asses to one another to obscene lyrics and an ear-bleeding bass. No, Bucky didn’t belong here. He felt out of place more so than often, thinking he would have been happier in another decade - another century, even. But since that was not possible, he had to make do with the world he was born into.

His head was already pounding. Not from the alcohol, though. It was a mixture of everything: The music - which was way too loud for his liking; the wild stage lights tumbling around the room and bouncing their lights from wall to wall, making him all dizzy in the process; and the constant tension in his body that was primarily caused by his current appearance. But Bucky wouldn’t lie, he was always tense. It was almost impossible not to be. He sought out the worst in every situation causing him to lose control over his muscles which ultimately lead to the staring problem referred to earlier and which he was probably engaging in right now. It brought some sort of control over situations for him. Observing people, quietly and unnoticed. Making himself a picture of their persona and then deciding that they were ridiculous. Everything was, really - if he thought about it. Why were they doing this? All for a quick hookup in a piss-reeking fraternity bathroom that probably left at least half of the people participating leave without proper satisfaction? Bullshit.

Bucky hadn’t always been this pathetic, no. Not until he had encountered enough wrongdoing in his life that made him decide that the world just wasn’t worth loving. Well… this opinion probably made his life a whole lot more miserable than it should be but Bucky learned to live with the little voice in his head seeking out the worst in situations like this one. He would much rather be in his bed, reading a book - just engage in anything more intellectual than what he was doing right now. He couldn’t even take himself seriously in this outfit Sam had picked out for him. His buddy and a couple of other friends all dressed as the sexy firing squad his college apparently ‘lacked and needed’ - so the words of Sam at least.

After another ten minutes of people watching and an uncomfortable encounter with a hammered PlayBoy Bunny that desperately threw herself onto him, Bucky downed his drink in one gulp and headed towards the kitchen in order to look for Sam and tell him that he was going to head home. This was getting preposterous, and he could seriously waste his time with a hundred other things.

Though Sam wasn’t too fond of his friend’s decision, he eventually let him go; and as soon as he managed to tear himself away from Sam’s intense beer pong session, Bucky bolted for the wardrobe to find his shirt and jacket.

When he stepped outside, he was immediately engulfed in a refreshing fall breeze. Finally being able to breathe air that wasn’t polluted with cigarette smoke and sweat was a nice feeling and Bucky tried to enjoy it as much as possible once he started his walk home. He passed a couple of buildings surrounding the street he was currently shuffling through before he finally entered the park area of Campus - away from the noise of Friday night parties and late-night traffic. He sauntered through the park in silence for a couple of minutes until he heard fast steps approaching from behind accompanied by loud giggles and shouts. When the couple rushed by him, almost knocking him off the path, he glared at their backs angrily. Fucking idiots. Their screams were heard for some time and just as Bucky was about to accept that his supposedly quiet and calming journey home would not be exactly that, the corners of his eyes caught onto a light reflecting off the wet leaves beside him.

Bucky stopped when he heard a rustling in the bushes next to the park bench he had passed. When he looked in its direction, he could only make out the usual greenery his path had to offer, but as he took another step to continue his journey, there was another crunching of leaves, followed by a soft ‘dang it’. Now that’s not how bushes usually sound like. Hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants, Bucky stepped on the grass and rounded the bench to take a look behind the plant barrier surrounding it.

There was a girl hunched behind it, about the same age as him. She was fiddling with her jacked that had apparently caught onto some branches and held her in an awkward half-crouch position. “What are you doing?” He asked the moment she managed to jerk the jacket from its restraints.

Bucky was met with big round y/e/c eyes that looked a little hazy. He couldn’t deny that she was quite pretty with the way the moonlit up her eyes, illuminating a bright glow within them. He nudged his head forward, urging her to talk as his curiosity got the better of him.

“I asked y-” But before he could finish his sentence, the girl reached up to his suspenders and forced him down in one swift motion.

“Shhhhhh!” Pushing her index finger to her lips, she scolded him and Bucky could smell the faint whiff of alcohol coming from her. She was tipsy - well, maybe even drunk considering that she was hiding behind a bush in the middle of the night. He was taken aback for a moment but gained his composure fairly quick. This was laughable.

“I'm gonna go” But his attempt to rise to his feet was stopped abruptly by a hand that yanked him down by his wrist, making the top of his head disappear behind the greens again. My god, she was stronger than she looked. She frantically exhaled: “No, you can’t go!” He dared her with his expression then, and harshly pulled his wrist out of her grasp. “They’re gonna see where I’m hiding. I can’t risk that!” She whisper-yelled at the brunette in front of her. Whatever it was she was doing, she was really engaged in it.

“What the fuck are you hiding for?!” He was frustrated. Stuck in yet another situation he didn’t anticipate and on top of that, he had to discuss some trivial shit when he could have already been in his shower by now.

“It’s the annual Halloween Hunt!” The girl explained a little too loudly as she covered her mouth a second after and ducked further behind the hedge. “Shoot, you think they heard us?” She peeked over the shrubbery, careful not to be seen by her friends. Bucky pulled a face that resembled confusion and annoyance at the same time. Though, he couldn’t help but find amusement in the way this 20-something-year-old college student was playing a kids' game in the middle of the night. Not even caring what anyone thought about her. Just having effortless and unhinged fun. He admired that, really. Bucky couldn’t even remember the last time he had genuinely found himself interested in something like this woman before him had. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he shared a legitimate laugh with someone. It was sad if he really thought about it. And he noticed anguish spread through his features that slowly drowned him in self-pity. Great. Now he was pissed at the stranger and she didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Okay, you can go now. I think the coast is clear.” Bucky stood up a second time. This time without being interrupted by the girl in front of him, still kneeling on the floor she mustered his stern look. “I’m sorry about that.” She smiled hesitantly before speaking up again. “Would you... uh… would you please not tell them where I’m hiding if they ask you?” His features softened at that. Wow, talk about mood swings.

Bucky tried to keep up a stoic expression while turning around and mumbling a frustrated ‘whatever’ before leaving in the direction of his dorm again. He did, however, not tell the guy asking about a y/h/c hair colored girl named Y/N, that he did in fact encounter someone hiding away. And he took a little pride in prolonging their game of hide and seek, giving the strange girl a chance to win. For the rest of the way, he thought about the weirdly endearing figure in the grass, testing out the name he assumed belonged to her and deciding that it was very fitting for her appearance and demeanor.

—

“You already have the personality of a grumpy grandpa.” Bucky looked up from his book with one eyebrow cocked. "Don’t you think you should at least try and let your actions make up for that, Pops?” A condescending huff was sent Sam’s way before Bucky’s face disappeared behind the book again.

“I'm not taking advice from you ever again” He flipped the page. “That shit party was your last chance and you blew it.”

“Oh c’mon, man!” Sam’s hands flew in the hair frustratedly. There was no answer from the body on the bed.

The pair had been bickering about the previous night for half an hour now. Sam was continuously trying to convince Bucky to go out with him again tonight and Bucky just wasn’t feeling it. Not only did that party take some precious time from his life that he would never get back; it also ended him up in an even weirder situation on the way home and Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to deal with the strange feelings he had to work with ever since.

“What? You’re just never going to leave your bed again?” If that’s what it takes. He thought while hovering his eyes over the word catching his attention on the page: help.

Being in new situations, surrounded by something he wasn’t familiar with had always brought a certain discomfort to Bucky. Not the good kind that made people grow as a person and all that shit. No, it made his anxiety spike and usually resulted in a sleepless night spent with overthinking and panic attacks. Sam knew that - he was his best friend and roommate, for God’s sake - and he had tried to help Bucky several times. It had worked a couple of them, too. Cause as much as Bucky hated to admit it, having Sam with him in these situations helped tremendously. But it didn’t change the fact that Bucky needed a time-out after these nights. Sam knew that, too. But he liked to argue with his best friend just as much as Bucky did. It was just a thing that made their friendship so unique. Because despite the constant teasing, each of them knew that the other would always be there for them if things came down to it.

This particular morning, however, was different. Bucky had actually slept very well, despite the awkward situation of the previous night. He even dreamt a little bit, which was weird, because Bucky could call himself lucky whenever he ended up sleeping without any recollection of the stories his mind made up during his slumber. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw those beautiful y/e/c eyes before him and it washed a calmness over his body that felt like a deep breath of fresh air. He couldn’t tell Sam that, though. He would tantalize him forever and Bucky wasn’t ready for that - not yet anyway. So he kept up his usual unbothered disposition in hopes of getting rid of his roommate for the rest of the day and having time to figure out what the fuck was going on.

—

Over the course of the following week, Bucky noticed the hide-and-seek-girl all over campus. He would get a coffee in the dining hall and he would see a y/h/c head of hair race by him with a binder in her hand that looked like it was about to burst with the amount of papers cramped in it. Or the other day, he was standing in front of the dean’s office, fumbling with the stupid zipper of his backpack when he heard fast footsteps approaching, and before he knew it a floral scent whipped by him, almost knocking him off his feet. Y/N seemed to always be in a hurry but Bucky would soon be learning that time was just not where her priorities lay. Because he saw her on a couple more occasions than that. One time, when he was walking through the park again, he spotted her standing under one of the trees peering up at the branches. He stopped for a moment, wondering what could have possibly been so interesting. His question was answered immediately when the girl squeezed out an excited giggle and seconds later a squirrel rushed his way, making him jump to the side. Fucking hell. What in the Disney princess shit was this? They even had a class together and Bucky really questioned his sanity at this point, considering that he never noticed her before. And it truly wasn’t hard to do so. She made her presence known in every room she entered. Whether that was in the form of heartfelt laughter that traveled over the heads of students to Bucky’s ears or just by zooming across a space at record speed.

The whole week felt like a fucking montage. And it played in Bucky’s head over and over again. It was safe to say that Y/N - at least he assumed that was her name - occupied his mind for the better part of each day and he didn’t know how to deal with it. He had never felt that way before. He couldn’t focus on his schoolwork, because he was thinking about what the girl would be doing right now, what other classes she was attending. Was she studying with a group of friends? Perhaps the one she had the Halloween Hunt with? Or was she watching a movie in her dorm? She seemed like more of a movie person than a bookworm, he thought. And then Bucky’s brain began to spiral, entering an endless cycle of what-ifs that ultimately lead to his not accomplishing much by the end of the day. Yeah… he was in deep and he fucking hated it. Who was he to let a stranger take over his senses like that? And how did it even happen, given that he didn’t know her name for sure - not to mention anything else that was just as superficial?

So two days into the second week after the Halloween party, Bucky decided that he had to do something about it. He wasn’t quite sure what that would be, but he was certain that something needed to change. And after another 72 hours - yes, he was counting hours of non-productivity now - of racking his head about it, his decision was fortunately or unfortunately - he wasn’t set on that yet - taken from him.

It was another boring Friday evening in the dining hall and Bucky was standing in line with a coffee ready to start his late-night study session, but not before he got a sandwich he needed to fuel the forthcoming all-nighter he was most likely about to pull due to his unproductive week. He was particularly grumpy today and the worst part was that he had nobody but himself to blame for the piles of assignments due Sunday night. He never really had a problem with deadlines. Always doing the bare minimum and using his critical discussion skills for the rest. It always got him good grades, anyway, so he didn’t see why he should put more effort into it than that. He had a 3.7 GPA and for the first time in the 2 years he had spent at NYU was that seriously endangered.

Bucky was looking at the menu above the counter to pass his time. He already knew what he wanted and for some reason, he didn’t feel like people watching. When he was about to step forward to catch up with the guy in front of him, he was shoved harshly in his left shoulder. His jaw locked as he was about to turn around to rain hellfire on the idiot that made him spill his coffee all over his sweater. But he suddenly froze in the process of opening his mouth when his eyes locked with the bright y/e/c he had come too familiar with over the past weeks. Her orbs flickered down to the brown stain in his sweatshirt slowly growing over his abdomen and a second later, her hands were waving in the air frantically.

“Oh, no! No, no, no. I AM SO SORRY!” Her voice was shaking and all Bucky could do was slowly reach up to still her wrists as they flailed through the blurred edges of his vision. His gaze was focused on her face. A face that hosted a scrunched nose and raised eyebrows that pulled on eyelids, which were framing fearful round eyes with soft lashes. It all felt like a dream and, for some reason, Bucky’s heart was pounding several beats faster than it should be. It seemed that the thoughts he had played with had intensified the feeling of her skin in his hands. Preventing him from doing anything but stare back at the panicked student in front of him. It took a couple of seconds for him to notice the stinging pain of the hot liquid on his shirt, but when he did, it yanked him out of the trance he was so helplessly stuck in moments before. He let her wrists fall from his grasp and proceeded to pull the wet fabric from his skin to ease the burning sensation he was enduring.

“Shit” He hissed through his teeth as he averted his gaze from her face and down to the mess she had created.

“I- Oh, God. Here let me help you.” She took a couple tissues from the counter next to them and dapped them on his hoodie, immediately soaking them with the hot liquid. Yeah, that wouldn’t do shit. But Bucky let her continue to soak another two fists full of paper towels before he stopped her with a simple head shake and a quiet laugh.

“This is not doing anything…” She roamed her eyes over the room before stopping on the wall behind Bucky’s shoulder. “Would you- could you come with me? I mean… I can try and get it out in the sink.” She tugged on his sleeve and started to walk in the direction of the dining hall bathrooms when Bucky almost moved his feet automatically. It was weird. He reacted to her like a machine to the push of a button. The hold on his sleeve was feather-light and Bucky struggled not to move his arm too much in fear of having it slip from her grasp. When they entered the bathroom, she immediately turned on the sink and dabbed the now wet paper towels to his torso continuously - allegedly.

“Here,” Bucky said as he stopped her by her wrists once again and shuffled to grab his hoodie by the hem to pull it over his head.

“Oh. You don’t have to… I-“ She paused, took a deep breath, and then started talking again. “You don’t need to take it off.” Bucky shook his head pulling the fabric up and off his body. “Please try to save it?” He handed it to her with a sheepish look on his face, trying to hide the way his heartbeat quickened when he caught her eyes hovering over his torso for a moment before she grabbed the item of clothing from him.

If he was being honest, he just looked for an excuse to be in her presence for a while longer. It eased his mind because he no longer had to wonder what she was doing. The freedom faded quickly, though, as his brain started to figure out what she was thinking about. Now, that was a problem that was harder to solve. Bucky scratched the back of his neck as she proceeded to wash the hoodie with water provisionally. He had to say something to cut through the suffocating silence.

He brushed a loose strand of hair being his ear before he spoke: “You’re the bush girl.” Wow, that definitely came out wrong. Good fucking job, bro. Bucky’s suspicion was only intensified by the funny look she shot at him. “Halloween, the hide and seek game.” The brunette elaborated. Her hands stilled under the stream of water for a bit. She was thinking.

And then her features brightened. “You were the firefighter!” She laughed and continued to rub the fabric again.

“It’s Bucky, actually.”

“Bucky… that’s very unique. I like it.” His heart warmed at that.

“I’m Y/N.” He knew that… kind of. But for some reason, confirming that the name he had referred her by in his head over the past two weeks, made him really excited. Her name was just as beautiful as her. And for some reason, he thought he would never be able to match another face to that name again. Simply, because she fit it so well, so perfectly. Bucky seriously had to collect himself again. Being in this state of mind felt strange and not like him at all. Get it together. So he cleared his throat, straightened his stance, and waited for her to finish washing.

“How did the game turn out?” Y/N grinned at that, staring down at the sink.

“I actually won.” Attagirl! He smiled with the thought wedged in his brain. Bucky felt weirdly proud of the almost stranger before him. Okay, maybe she wasn’t a stranger anymore. Not for him at least. She had occupied his mind too much, it almost felt like he had known her for a lot longer - and he still didn’t even know her last name. He watched as Y/N blowdried his hoodie under the hand dryer before she handed it back to him.

“Here you go. I hope that will do it. If not I can get you a new one.”

He gathered the courage for his next words as he pulled the sweater over his head again, taking some extra time before he’s finished putting his arms through the sleeves. “How about you get me a new coffee. I think I could really use one now.”

Her eyes shifted up to him, searching for a falter in his expression or the hint of sarcasm, but she wouldn’t find any of that. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.” She smiled. Her smile was mesmerizing and Bucky already felt it etching into his brain.

Y/N led him back to the food court and made him choose the cafe of his liking before they sat down by the counter with the grumpy barista behind it. It was quiet between the pair for a while and Y/N looked as though she was just as clueless about the topics appropriate for this meeting as he was. They weren’t really friends but they weren’t strangers either. It was a weird dynamic but Bucky was willing to push it in another direction. Even if it just provided him with a couple more info about the girl in front of him that could hopefully make his damn mind stop from soaring day and night.

“So… Uh what are you studying? Because I know we have that one class together but that doesn’t mean anything, you know?” She offered with a sly smile, hiding her face behind the rim of her coffee mug.

“I’m a Philosophy major, actually,” Bucky answered suddenly flustered for some reason. He never cared what people thought about him and what he did but it seemed that his body was utterly focused on what she would say to the answer he had given her.

“Oh, that’s so interesting! ‘God is dead! He remains dead! And we have killed him.’” She quoted with a fist in the air “Wasn’t that this dead German guy? I like his dramatics.”

“Friedrich Nietzsche, yes.” Bucky chuckled, in awe by the worldliness of the woman before him.

“So what’s it like to be worldly-wise and have the knowledge of existence resting on your shoulders?” Bucky wasn’t expecting the confidence after the stammering mess she had presented herself as seconds before but it was a refreshing change.

“All I know is that I know nothing.” He nodded with a slight smile. Still not sure if this was a game he was willing to play, he quietly added: “Socrates” But it was more directed to his mug than Y/N.

“If this is your way of teaching me some things, I’m all in. I love learning new stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky’s interest was genuine. There was just something about Y/N that drew him in and kept him yearning for more.

“Yeah… It’s probably the reason I’ve changed majors a couple times too many” Her shoulders shrugged and her mouth pulled into a tight-lipped smile. As if she was telling him that there was nothing she could change about it. “Still not sure if I’m gonna stick with the one I currently have” She laughed and Bucky swore it was the most beautiful sound in the entire fucking world. He’d do anything to hear it over and over again.

“Shit. Seems like you’ll make some dangerous competition in the wisdom area then. Do I need to fear my status?” He focused on his coffee but the weak jump in his peripheral didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette.

“God, no! You go ahead and philosophize over life and death. I’ll be over here engaging in the hands-on work.”

“So you’re an artist?”

“I try to be.”

“Come on. I'm sure you have some decent talent!”

She laughed, flustered and timidly before tangling her right hand in a strand of hair. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“And why is that?” Bucky pushed leaning forward and placing his forearms on his thighs.

"I tend to be a little… clumsy.”

“You don’t say.” He had to suppress a laugh and it felt weird. He hasn’t had to do that for quite some time.

Y/N huffed at his comment but her face turned into a concerted one a second later. What was she so sorry about? After all, they got a pretty nice conversation out of her clumsiness. Maybe she doesn’t wanna hang out with you. His coincides tried to convey, playing the little devil on his shoulder that would constantly tell him about the worst of all outcomes. The voice that had managed to triumph over the quiet, calming, and reassuring one that had given up on countering its opponent ages ago. Though it seemed to fight its way back to the surface with Y/N around. Bucky felt it in a strange way. It was as if something was lifting a tiny piece of the weight settled on his shoulders, making it easier to think on his own. It was nice - deliberating.

“Can’t clumsy be a good thing? Maybe it’s gonna determine your unique style of art… somehow.” It felt strange to say something so optimistic. But it had happened without Bucky’s control and before he could think about it, it had already left his lips. Her eyes lit up at that and Bucky’s regret disappeared into thin air. Big y/e/c orbs directed at him and boring into his soul. The fucking hold this girl had on him was beyond anything he ever experienced.

“That's a nice way of looking at it. Maybe ill try to embrace it next time.” It felt nice to be heard. To be appreciated instead of shrug off with another sarcastic comment like he and his friends always did.

What the fuck are you doing? If she’s bad at art she should just stop. “Yeah, whatever.” He willed the voice away, conflicted with his mind and body, feeling strange in his own skin.

“So… uh. Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving? I’m thinking of surprising my Grandma. She lives in Florida and can’t really come up here anymore, so I thought it would be nice to see her…” Yeah, she had definitely noticed his change of demeanor and she probably thought he was strange, too. So, now, Bucky was stuck watching her fill the awkward silence, listening to another 3 minutes of Y/N talking about her Grandparents and how her grandpa had died last year, and - Oh, shit. Her grandpa died? That’s sad. He should probably console her. But Bucky didn’t get a chance to, because she had already moved on to another topic, most certainly ignoring his stone-cold response to the passing of her family member. Fucking asshole. Look what you’ve done. “…but I thought it would be a nice present for her backyard, so I’ll have to try again until it doesn’t look like a drunk Picasso anymore.”

Bucky nodded with a tight-lipped smile and went to sip on his coffee again when he noticed that it was already empty. “Oh, god. I’m boring you, aren’t I? I am so sorry. I-“

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m not much of a talker.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood.

“I figured as much.” She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, making the ring on her hand shimmer from the light fixed to the ceiling. As much as Bucky wanted to spend the rest of the fucking night at this very table with her, he had to get that paper done.

“I’m sorry… I really like listening to you. It’s just that- I have a paper due on Sunday and I haven’t even started yet.” Y/N face fell a little at his words, but she built it back up as fast as possible, trying not to get caught but Bucky noticed. Like he noticed everything about her. It came from his decade-long habit of people watching, but that still didn’t stop his heart from sinking a little deeper in his stomach. He hated to see her hut, but he hated it even more that his words were what caused her to be that way. He had to make it up to her but he also had to write that goddamn paper. Fucking hell. When did College become so stressful? Oh, that’s right - when a gorgeous y/h/c hair-colored girl entered his life and messed with his head without even intending to.

“Oh, okay. Well, I don’t wanna hold you up any longer, then.” Y/N emptied her cup in one last gulp before standing up and pushing the chair back under the table. Bucky copied her actions.

“I really am sorry, Y/N.”

“That’s alright.” Her hand waved off the comment, though he couldn't shake the feeling that his comment had hurt her a little.

“I’ll see you around.” It was more of a question than a statement, really. But Bucky didn’t want to sound desperate. He just hoped that she would reassure him, quietly.

“I certainly hope so, Bucky.” She smiled. And then she turned away, letting fast steps carry her off to the door of the hall and disappearing behind the walls of the building. He saw her head bounce outside the window for a couple more seconds, making his heartbeat pick up a little, and then she was gone. Bucky stood there for a moment, staring at the window through which he had seen her last and clenching his hands into fists, opening them again to drag them over his face in an attempt to wipe the creepy stare off his features. This was not at all how he wanted it to go.

—

Monday 00:03 am. And Bucky was up at the library sitting in front of his computer, staring at the green rectangle that told him he had just handed in his homework in time. He was tired and tense, even though he had finally checked this shit assignment off his to-do list. The fucking assignment that made him look like an asshole to the gorgeous hide-and-seek-girl and that was the reason her smile had left her beautiful face for a second. So why was he not relieved? Why was he not on his way to his dorm, ready to fall into yet another dreamy slumber filled with images of the girl that had spilled his coffee all over his shirt? Well, it was because Bucky felt that tonight was not going to be as peaceful as the previous ones had been. He felt it - the brooding uneasiness taking over his body in an uncomfortable tingle that spread like goosebumps over his spine. He wasn’t surprised, though. It couldn’t have lasted forever. Nothing good ever lasted forever. At least not for him. Yeah, tonight was gonna be hell.

He slowly leaned back in his chair folding his arms over his head as he tipped it back slightly, stretching over the wooden barrier that dug into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of his elbow, already regretting the decision he had made. He stood up, packed his things, and headed for the door.

Bucky walked through the park area of Campus again. Slow and steady steps took him forward at a painfully gradual pace. Even though it was cold out and Bucky was only tugged in his leather jacket, he dragged out the time it took him to get back to his bed. Sam would probably still be up anyway, playing his stupid flight simulator video game which made astonishingly annoying noises that Bucky could hear through his headphones. Of course, he knew he couldn’t be outside forever, but something in him kept him from entertaining the few hours of proper sleep he would usually get on a Sunday night.

As he kicked at the brown leaves on the ground, his mind began to wander. He hadn’t seen Y/N since the awkward coffee occurrence and he wondered what she had done over the weekend. It shouldn’t surprise him, Bucky had practically been living behind his computer screen, using every minute of the past three days to work on his assignment. Maybe Y/N had been doing the same. Or maybe she was just in some atelier, trying out the weird advice he had given her right before he became an asshole towards her again. Seriously, why was that bothering him so much? Bucky never cared what other people thought of him. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a hand full of people whose opinion he really valued. But usually, weird late-night encounters with strangers didn’t make the cut. Except one. Except Y/N.

As he was about to turn left towards the residence halls, Bucky’s eyes caught an orange and green shine through the bare branches of the trees. Oh, how convenient! Something that would distract him from the dreadful night he was about to start. With a twitch of his mouth, Bucky changed his course and headed deeper into the park, following the artificial lights that grew brighter with every step.

Before he knew it, his feet had taken him to a green area that had been raked free of all leaves. There were bright orange and green lights hanging from the branches of the trees, building an angular shape about half the size of the lot. The thick light ropes span over the area like a make-shift roof and off of them - on other parallel treads - hung plastic leaves, each carefully crafted with different types of fall-colored materials and alternating distances from the floor. Between the arranged lampion-like art pieces, there were more, smaller lights, hanging perpendicular to the floor and functioning to illuminate the pendants from the side. It was truly breathtaking. Walking further, Bucky felt as if he had entered an entirely different planet. The pieces spun in the wind lightly, reflecting some of the softer yellow hues back to different areas of the park and to the ground. The grass was illuminated by kaleidoscope-like shapes. All colors mixed from the vibrant lights and the see-through plastic leaves. There was sound, too. A calming chime that rung through the arrangement like white noise, mixing with the wind - no. It was controlled by the wind. Bucky stepped even deeper into the place, ogling every piece like a kid in the candy store. There, in-between the many ropes and lines and shapes, were small metallic-silvery cylinders that acted as wind chimes.

Enchanted by the environment surrounding him, Bucky wandered through the area, carefully dodging the delicate crafts and dragging his eyes over each one he passed, to admire its features. After a while, he stopped, spun around in the middle of the fixtures, and let his senses be overstimulated. But as he spun, he spotted a slight break in the pattern that was so evenly spread across the ground. The triangles and other free shapes warped on one spot on the ground a couple feet away from him. It was a person, laying on the ground with their limbs stretched to either side of their body. Face turned up towards the lights and chest rising and falling in a steady motion. Who in their right mind would lay on the moist ground in the middle of the night like that? Bucky had to know.

Approaching the person quietly, he placed his backpack on the ground serenely when he noticed who it was he was so shamelessly watching. In fact, the very girl that lay there under the lights, letting the scene take over her, was none other than Y/N. Bucky felt a tug in his heart, reminding him of a feeling he had not noticed over the past few days. But when he saw her right in front of him, he recognized it as something that must have been incredibly close to missing somebody. He had missed her and he didn’t even know it.

When she noticed his steps come to a stop next to her, she slowly opened her eyes. She sat up as soon as she recognized who had intruded her moment, letting a smile take its place on her face.

“Bucky!” He ignored the jump in his chest as she laced his name with so much joy.

“What is this here?” He gestured to the fixtures surrounding them. Glancing around once again.

“It's a Thanksgiving project from my art class. We’ve been building it up tonight to test it before it’s officially portrayed tomorrow.” Y/N bit her lip. “Here.” She patted the grass next to her to signal him that he should take a seat next to her. Bucky just looked at her with a blank stare, not really processing her demands.

“It’s supposed to be looked at standing up so that you see all the leaves hanging like a cloud, but I find it much better from down here.” She gently pulled on his right hand, making him sit down eventually. “I just feel like it sounds better when the wind is not gushing in your ears. You can hear the chimes way clearer when you lay down.”

Bucky was still mute, distracted by the touch of her fingers around his hand. When she let go to push on his shoulders, he regained control over his body again, but he let her guide him to the ground completely first. Y/N laid down next to him, watching the materials above her head. Bucky just watched her profile being faintly lit by the colorful shapes. It was incredibly hypnotizing, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“You did this?” He spoke in awe, still training his eyes on her features.

She turned her head towards him on the ground, facing Bucky directly. “It was supposed to be a surprise. Nobody was supposed to see it just yet.” Bucky raised his eyebrow at her. Y/N just shook her head before continuing. “I guess we didn’t do a good job at hiding it, huh?”

And then he laughed. He fucking laughed. His lips pushed deeper into his cheeks and the rumble of his chest surprised even Bucky as the unfamiliar sound made its way across the lawn. It felt foreign but homey at the same time. Like coming home to a family he hadn’t seen in a while. What the hell was happening? And why the fuck did he not do that sooner. It was like being on crack. Endorphins shot through his body, warming him up from the inside. Nice, safe, and effortless. - lifting tension he didn’t even know he was lugging.

When his breathing evened out again, Bucky suddenly realized the position the pair was in. Laying on the cold but calming grass next to Y/N, he could almost feel their hands touching again. His fingers twitched to test just how far she was really from him and found out that it was way closer than he thought.

The situation seemed way too intimate for an almost stranger and Bucky couldn’t push away the feeling of slight discomfort with the moment they shared. He felt it again, this ongoing banter between the gradually stronger growing good voice, arguing with the devil on his shoulder. Take her hand - No, do you want her to think you’re a fucking creep - it’s not creepy, it’s sweet - the fuck it’s not, it’s intrusive - he likes her, let him take her hand - no fucking way. And then the soft voice was gone again. Suppressed by the cold and evil red one sulking in its reign for far too long now. His brain was in a blender. Unable to deal with its most mundane functions and Bucky suddenly felt the need to count his breaths to make sure that he kept getting oxygen into his system. But still, he remained stiff next to her, not daring to move an inch away or closer. Closing his eyes, he let the colors dance over his eyelids, hypnotizing him in the most pleasant of ways.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Y/N hummed in response, urging him to keep talking while she remained with her eyes closed as well. He was looking at her again.

“Any chance I get to make up for that coffee date I ruined.”

She chuckled and her nose scrunched up adorably. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky. It was my fault we needed to get coffee in the first place.” Needed - That didn’t sound like it was forced at all. Her tone was calming and content and after a couple seconds of silence on Bucky’s part, she spoke again. Probably trying to ease the uncertainty that had crawled up his neck. “But I’d love to get another with you.” She turned her head to him again smiling brightly at his already turned face.

“Good… that’s good.” He shifted his gaze back to the lights as his lips tugged into a shy smile as well. Maybe good things did happen to Bucky every once in a while.

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