#I dragging on posting for so long because I was sad it didn’t meet my expectations

[slyzia]

A walk around the streets

I know the perspective is kinda wrong but I already finished it, anyways! Lucrow people are you still alive? I have some food :DD

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

part three

a/n i've been following the halloween event pretty closely for the jp servers, and omg, i have fallen deeper in love with leona! he's just so gentlemanly and honestly, the type of guy you would totally bring home to meet ur parents! plus he looks so damn good! also scully such a cutie patootie! love his little mannerisms and design! i was a little sad that ace and deuce wasn't in, but that just means that they'll both be there for the next halloween event!

edit: so this was meant to be posted like a long time ago hence my og author note, but better late the. never ig. but my point still stands that skully is a little cutie patootie <3

included ignihyde, diasomnia + rollo

tw nothing

want more? here's part one + two

ignihyde <3

⋆ He can’t help it! But the first thing that escape Idia's mouth is ‘Is this poison?’ He can't help it! He’s just a little awkward and has low self-esteem! Idia can’t phantom the idea that anyone, especially you, would take time out of their day to make and bring little, ugly him, food. (his words not mine) It’s literally a ten minute conversation where you have to explain to him that you wanted to this because you care about his skinny ass. And after he gets that through his thick ass head and into his big ass brain, does he explode into hot, hot red. Despite being a literal genius, Idia’s social department (self-esteem? self-love?) is severely understaffed. I don’t think Idia’s all that picky when it comes to food, he’s just not used to eating food out of his comfort zone. But batting your pretty eyes and asking ‘pretty please?’ is enough to get him to bend over.

⋆ If he could eat, Ortho would adore your food! (real talk, i can’t remember if Ortho could canonically eat through like idk a food cavity space thing or if i had just read that from a fic) Would ask for all types of things. But since he can’t, Ortho enjoys your food through Idia. He’s really happy that someone would take the time out of their day just for his big brother. By his data, doesn’t that mean you like his big bro? In all sorts of media, romantic partners make each other food to show their love! If Idia wasn’t such a danger magnetic in the kitchen, Ortho would force Idia to make you food too! So you’ll just have to settle with Ortho as your little helper instead. (he’s so excited to spend one on one time with his future in-law! teehee)

Diasomnia <3

⋆ My, make him food? How courageous you are, little human. Malleus gobbles your food down like it's his last supper. Food created by his child of man? How could he possibly let it go to waste! Compliments you to the moon and back. Though because it is Malleus, he does slip a few critiques. (he can’t help it! He’s a prince afterall) Malleus has never had an edible homemade dish full of love given to him, like ever. (sorry lilia, your food is full of love, just not edible) A warm feeling blossoms all across his body like blooming roses. If his tail was out, it would be swaying to the beat of his racing heart. Malleus didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with you, but here you go, always surprising him. Perhaps, you’ll find a meal on your desk one day by the initials M.D.

⋆ Ohohoho? So you want to challenge a culinary master! Lilia will not be beaten by such a cute little human! You better start running tehehehehe- On another less scary note, Lilia enjoys your food immensely! Of course he could think of a few ways to make it much more protein packed and nutritious but that’s just his inner master chef coming out teehee. Beware, he insists that you must try his cooking, it’s only fair of him to treat you to a meal. Or even worse, insist that you too must cook together. Pray to the seven (or hope that Silver will be conscious enough to drag his father outta there) because you’re going to need it.

⋆ Wonderful… is the only word Silver is able to get out before he falls asleep. When he wakes, Silver is awfully embarrassed. Silver is blown away at your kindness. His face a perment baby pink the rest of the day. You thought of him and no one else. Surely this must mean something right? Still, Silver must do something for you too. It’s only fair. (what a sweet gentleman) he considers making you a treat as well, but considers otherwise. It might be unwise to be in the kitchen with his condition. But of course, it’s not like Silver won’t have any help! All the woodland creatures are more than happy to help Silver win over his crush’s heart! The next day you’ll have his treat flown to you by a couple of blue birds, chipmunks and rabbits gathering at your door with berries of all sorts. Silver thankful for such generous companions. If he had to face you, he might just fall into a coma.

⋆ He can’t help it when he says, “Are you trying to poison me?!’ and ‘Don’t you dare poison my Waka-Sama! I will fight you, human!” Sebek’s like a dog, barking and barking, until he smells the delicious scent of your food and suddenly, he’s stubbornly eating it at the table. Cursing himself for being so weak to delicious food (and your pretty smile) Oh how could he properly serve his Waka-sama if he’s weakened by such things?! THE CRUELTY! He does really enjoy your food. Typically he’s often left unsatisfied, his stomach growling with lingering hunger after his meals. But for some odd reason, every time he’s chowing down on your food, he’s satisfied. His stomach is silent but his chest is warm and fuzzy like dandelions. Are you sure you don’t have any magic? Sebek decides to keep his curiosity to himself. Just like the rest of diasomnia, you’ll find yourself faced with a box filled to the brim with food courtesy of the blushing, stuttering fae in front of you.

Extra <3

⋆ Very rarely does Rollo find time to sit down and eat. Between his studies, his duties as student president and world domination (kidding), he is much too busy to have anything more than a piece of bread and glass of water. You’ll have to drag him to sit his ass down to eat and even then he’ll be scolding you for messing up his schedule. But when the warm and homey scent of your food reaches his nose, his voice falls and mind clears. And all of a sudden, he’s very much aware of the ache in his bones, the growling of his stomach and the tight ringing of his head. Rollo listens to you tell him you made this just for him, heaviness hits his chest at the concern lacing your voice. Any other time he’d scoff and leave, but this is you. His friend. He doesn’t hesitate. The moment your food touches his tongue he’s done for. Perhaps the hassle of life is worth it.

[chronic-escapixt]

Longing

post-merge!Kai x f!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, yandere, stalking, magical drugging, Kai's POV

summary ~ Kai develops an obsession with the first person to show that they care about him

Our story starts with the day that I died. Well - technically I didn’t ‘die’. But I almost did. I could feel it for weeks now: non-stop nosebleeds and night sweats turned into something much more serious than I wanted to admit. 

I could barely stand up straight when I finally dragged myself to my dear sister, Josette’s apartment. I had to swallow a lot of pride coming here. Since the make-shift merge granted me my own magic (sorry little brother) , I thought I’d never have to ask anything from any of them again, yet here I am.

Doubled over, clutching my abdomen, where every one of my failing organs fights over which can kill me the fastest, having rang the doorbell for the second time.

That’s when I hear a sweet voice behind me.

“Hey, are you alright?”

I don’t move or even respond at first because there’s no way she’s talking to me.

Then I feel her step closer, “sir..”

That’s when I turn and notice the micro-expression of shock on her face as she glimpses my sunken features and sickly pallor. Oddly enough, she doesn’t recoil away from me. She’s more concerned than anything.

“I don’t mean to sound like a stalker but I just saw you struggle the whole way up the stairs. Do you need an ambulance or could I call someone?”

She’s beautiful, okay.. like a major babe. Making it all the more embarrassing when I trip through my words. I should excuse myself because I feel lightheaded and socially deprived doesn’t even begin to describe the last two decades of my life, but I find myself flustered.

“Are you okay?” she repeats slower. She genuinely cared about my wellbeing even though it didn't benefit her at all.

I snap out of it. “yeah.. I’m fine.. just here to see my sister. She’s a doctor, so I’m hoping she can work her magic on me.. so to speak..” I try to straighten my posture, but my shoulders sag right back down pathetically. 

“Oh! You’re Jo’s brother?” 

“Yeah, we’re super close.. we’re twins actually.” 

She gives me a weird look then laughs out loud, “you’re funny.” I force a short chuckle at the expense of my aching ribcage.

It’s just like Jo to interrupt our conversation when she finally answers her door for me. 

“Kai?” she looks me over. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I thought I’d visit you since im not feeling the greatest and your neighbor here was kind enough to check on me.”

“Y/N?”

She greets Jo with a smile then turns to me.

“It was nice meeting you, Kai.” I could've died happy in that moment, watching her lips form the sounds of my name.

She continued, “I really hope you feel better and maybe I’ll see you around.”

I watched her disappear into that apartment of hers. Apartment B25, on the right side across from Jo’s. I’d learn it had a balcony that I could view from the storefront of the coffee joint across the street. 

My smile left my face when I turned back to my sister. For once in our lives, Jo actually helped me. It turns out I just needed her magic, the missing piece to complete the merge. 

Days went by and, my body felt better than ever, but my chest still felt achy. Like a weird gnawing right behind my sternum that bothered me at night and kept me up with sad thoughts. Ever since that weird crying fiasco, I started using the internet to look up these feelings I experienced based on my symptoms. Apparently, I was feeling longing.

I couldn’t ignore it for long, especially not when my memories of her face became hazy. I couldn’t remember if she had a beauty mark on her right or left cheek or that precise shade of hazel in her eyes. 

She became my obsession where all I could think about was the next time I could be around her. More and more I wanted to possess her. Keep her all to myself like a selfish child with their favorite toy. 

I learned her schedule and spent countless afternoons at that coffee shop across the street watching her come home after her classes. I found reasons, any reason at all to be in her building just so I could talk to her. 

I even told her I was a chemistry major just so I could finally get through the threshold of her apartment and smell the space permeated with her lovely cinamony scent. We’d sit together on her floor and I helped her study for her upcoming exam. Chemistry is surprisingly similar to alchemy and potions.

I’d watch her lips when she drunk her favorite cappuccino when we met up for coffee, my eyes never leaving the sight of the frothy milk left on her upper lip. 

I planned a murder when her out-of-state boyfriend decided to come visit her. Brock? Bruce? It doesn’t really matter because I made sure that asshole was out of her life for good. He was a douche anyway and she’s too pure for someone like him. It didn’t take me long to realize he was cheating on her. It wasn’t messy. I took a more refined approach and melted his brain with a simple spell before sending her every screenshot and the most brutal heartbreaking words I could think of sent from his cellphone.

Then I was her shoulder to cry on. I was the one that reassured her that she was enough. She was more than enough. She was perfect. 

I grew tired of watching her agonize over a shitty dead guy, making everything about him. So one night, when I got her drinks from the bar, I muttered a short spell to make a little potion to put her to sleep. I carried her home with me and tucked her into bed before climbing in next to her and pulling her into my chest. That gnawing was finally gone. No longer longing. I felt something else, but I didn’t care to google it because it felt so good I just wanted to enjoy it in the moment. I kissed her forehead and softly told my sleeping beauty that she was mine. 

And I’m never letting her go.

@daisy-renae @quinsly @ditzyzombiesblog

Taglist

[steviewashere]

Pumpkin Pie

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Recreational Drug Use (Marijuana), Alcohol, Inebriated Steve Harrington Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Sad Steve Harrington, Insecure Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Kisses, Cuddling, Sharing Food, The Intimacy in Sharing Pie From the Same Tin on The Same Fork, Sappy Ending For @steddie-spooktober Day 24 Prompt: Pumpkin (My probably only fic for spooktober because it got away from me)

🎃—————🥧 Eddie wakes up to a cold bed next to him and a bladder that’s screaming.

It’s not unusual for Steve to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Sometimes from a nightmare. Maybe because he needs a glass of water. Occasionally for the bathroom. But for his side to stay cold? That’s what’s unusual.

He pulls up his pajama pants, washes his hands, and makes it out of their ensuite bathroom. Well, it used to be just Steve’s ensuite and bedroom, but it’s theirs now that his parents have completely moved out of Hawkins. Leaving their too big house in a trust fund—the only thing that’s in the trust fund, it seems. Steve agreed that he’d pay the bills, so long as his parents didn’t fully sell it; surprisingly, they gave in.

The downstairs is completely dark. No life in the living room. No flushing toilet from the downstairs bathroom. Nothing. It’s almost as if Steve isn’t even home. Though, the back porch light is on. And in the light layer of autumn fog, glowing from the pool lights, is Steve laid back in one of the pool loungers.

Heaving open the heavy sliding glass door, Eddie chances stepping outside. The cold bites him—teeth marks, flesh missing. His t-shirt and fleece pants aren’t going to fend off the chill. And Steve’s outfit won’t do any better either. Considering the fact that he’s in nothing but some ratty sweatpants. How can he sit out here, Eddie briefly wonders. A waft of something skunky and earthy flares his nostrils alive. He shuffles over so that he’s in the adjacent pool lounger, sitting on the edge, arms wrapped tight around himself. Looking on at Steve’s profile, who is completely zoned out, bringing the joint to his lips mechanically. There are goosebumps on Steve’s shoulders, his cheeks bright red, the area under his nostrils a little shiny. He’ll get sick out here.

“Steve?” Eddie softly calls. Though, it startles Steve anyway. Hazel eyes meet his: bloodshot, glistening, his pupils expanded to their full extent from how dark it is. There’s dark circles under his eyes, heavy eye bags. His skin is pasty underneath the flush. Already looks sick. “What’re you doin’ out here, sweetheart? It’s warmer inside.”

A sniff. Shrugged shoulders. Steve looks back out towards the pool, but his eyes aren’t bouncing over the water—from where Eddie follows them, they appear to be mapping out the horizon line, a blue expanse coated with fog. “My parents called”—he takes a deep pull from the joint and the cigarette paper crackles into use, breathing it into his lungs, puffing it lightly from his nostrils—“they aren’t coming,” Steve croaks, the rest of that smoke billowing from between his chapped lips.

“They called at midnight?”

Steve gives a heavy nod. Another drag. Billowing smoke. “Motherfuckers are in London right now, livin’ it large with all their stupid business friends. Mom’s tryin’ to keep Dad from chasing tail.” He blinks slowly and lets out a longwinded sigh. “It’s whatever. Tried to keep in touch with my family, made them a bunch of nice food, and this is what I get. Fuckin’ whatever.” Steve’s smiling by the end of that sentence, this humorless, lifeless thing. He goes back to the joint again on autopilot, lips wrapping around the end, taking in another big hit, letting it settle, and blowing it out with his next sigh.

Eddie looks around Steve, the crumbles of burnt joint on the lounger, what looks like a near empty glass bottle resting near one of the legs, another smoked roll but it’s just the filter at this point. He purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows. Looks at that bottle again—Smirnoff. He takes a deep breath, oh boy. “Don’t you want to go inside, sweetheart? We can talk about all this in bed, y’know. It’s warmer,” he tries again.

“Nah,” Steve drawls. “I’m warm already”—another fucking hit—“’t’s fine.”

“How much have you had to smoke, Steve?”

He shrugs again. Nonchalant like none of this is worrisome. Whatever that phone call was must’ve shaken him up pretty bad. Especially for him to come out here and party like it’s 1983? Yeah, must’ve been pretty fucked.

A cloud of smoke. “Dunno,” Steve says, “put some money in your…your lunchbox. Gutted some of my cigs. Bada-bing, bada-boom, right?” He puts the roach out on the arm of his chair, leaving a shallow crater in its wake. Steve points loosely towards the leg of his chair. “Hand me the…the uh…the drink?”

“No, Steve,” Eddie responds firmly, “I’m not gonna give that to you. We should go back to bed. Talk about that phone call in the morning.”

Steve scoffs and hefts himself up enough to come off the back of the chair, just barely reaching over into Eddie’s space. His eyes are glossier than they were before, heavy lids, Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath when he speaks. “What’s there to talk about? They don’ fuckin’ love me. ‘M not enough for them to stay and now they’re startin’ over without me.” He collapses back. A wet breath from between his lips. “It’s whatever,” Steve spits. Swallows and sniffles and—

The first tear rolls down his right cheek.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

“Nothin’ to talk ‘bout.” He wipes aggressively at his cheeks with the hilt of his palms. Mutters, so quiet Eddie almost doesn’t hear him, “Don’ fuckin’ love me.”

Eddie’s silent for a few minutes. Sour in his stomach from Steve’s soft sniffles, the tears he won’t admit are there. He looks out at the forest, the dark expanse of sky. Lets out a calm, solid breath. “Are you hungry?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Sorta.”

“You want some of that pumpkin pie I made?” Steve nods to that. “Okay,” Eddie whispers. “M’gonna get you some water, too, alright? Enough of the weed and alcohol for tonight.”

“But”—

“No, Stevie, baby,” he shoots down as gently as he can. “It’s not gonna help.”

Before Steve can protest again, Eddie swipes up the bottle of vodka and retreats back into the kitchen. He pulls the tin of pumpkin pie from the fridge, grabs a fork, a bottle of water, and heads back outside. Along the way, though, he snatches a hoodie of Steve’s and some socks for the both of them.

The water and pie are set in Steve’s lap, fork laying gently across its top. He scrunches up the hoodie and pulls it over Steve’s head for him, guiding his arms through, letting it fall loosely over his stomach. And he treats the socks with the same reverence, a pair for each of them. Finally, he digs a bite from the center of the pie tin—a hideous scrape of fork prongs in the center of what he made—and brings it to Steve’s lips, who takes the scoop gingerly.

Steve hums with his eyes closed. “You’re a good baker,” he mumbles with a full mouth, “best…best boyfriend in the world.”

He snorts. “Mmm…that’s funny, I was gonna say that you’re the best boyfriend in the world. My favorite person, too.”

“Really?” Steve looks to him with his eyes as wide as they’ll possibly go, pupils still dilated, still glossy, but surprised. “Am I really?”

Eddie combs his fingers through the front of Steve’s hair, swooping it back off his forehead. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “sweetheart, you are more than best to me. You’re everything, Steve.” He offers another bite to Steve, watches as it disappears behind his lips.

There’s a small, pleased smile on Steve’s face. The corner of his eyes crinkled lightly, sparkling. He looks down at the pie tin, a crease worming between his eyebrows. Gently concerned, “Are you eatin’, too? ’T’s your food.”

“Two for you, one for me. I’m not that hungry.”

Steve hums. Still watching Eddie, as he finally takes a bite for himself. And then watching with more intent as he gets another bit of pie. There’s a smudge of pie on the corner of his mouth. Eddie wipes it away reverently with the tip of his thumb. He receives a kiss to it for his efforts, which he chuckles at.

“I love you,” Eddie breathes—easy as pie. “Love you so much, it’s almost ridiculous.”

There are tears in Steve’s eyes again. When he’s inebriated, his emotions are practically free flowing. They always are. It’s a shame he only allows himself to be this vulnerable when he’s like this, but it’s all the same real. Wetly, “Love you, too. You know that? Don’…don’t forget that. That I…I love you, Eds. So much. Love you so much.” His next breath comes out as a little, weak sob. A hiccup, this gentle burble.

He pets his hand through Steve’s hair again, gently swiping it down the side of his head, and cupping his cheek. His face is warm and his eyes are shiny and he’s still so beautiful—so wonderfully Steve—even when he’s like this. “Shh,” Eddie whispers, “I know, baby. I know. And I’ll remember, promise. Because I’m gonna love you for forever, Stevie. Just you and me.”

Another soft cry—delicate. “Kiss?” Steve asks quietly, “can we kiss?”

Instead of answering verbally, Eddie deposits the fork into the well of missing pumpkin pie. He cups Steve’s face with both his hands and gently invites himself in. Steve isn’t very coordinated, his lips too pursed, and his whole face scrunching in Eddie’s palms, but he makes do. It’s a saccharine kiss all the same—no tongue, just their lips, more smear than anything. But when Eddie pulls back a few inches, Steve is still positively dazed. As if it’s the first time they ever kissed, in which Steve looked the exact same: in love, entirely surprised his tactic worked, and still completely pleased with the results.

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s lips, mingling in the same breath, “no matter what, I’m gonna keep loving you.”

Steve rests in Eddie’s palms, going lax into his left hand. His face is squished, he’s flushed and warm. There’s a goofy, lopsided, syrupy smile on his face. “You…you taste like pumpkin, Eds.”

“Yeah?” he laughs out through a breath. “You do, too. You’re my slice of pumpkin pie, Stevie”—he pets his thumbs over Steve’s temples, down at the corners of his eyes—“slice of heaven right here in my hands.”

“Mm,” Steve hums. He moves forward in his chair, coming up off the backing again. This time, though, he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and squeezes. Snuggling in as close as he possibly can with Eddie still holding onto his face. There aren’t anymore tears, on his cheeks or waiting in his eyes—the best thing Eddie could’ve hoped for. With the way he moved, Steve’s cheeks are pushed flush to his eyes. His lips are pouty. Eddie can't help it, he plops a kiss to Steve's forehead, right between his eyebrows. Steve's voice is distorted and mumbling when he speaks, “You make me happy, Eds. Make me so, so happy. Love you. Don’ forget, m’kay? Always…always love you.”

For a few minutes more, they’ll be sappy like this. Slow and soft in each other’s space, sharing bites of pie off the same fork, exchanging the same words. They’ll hold close, forgetting about that stupid phone call. And eventually, they’ll head back to bed. Fluttering against each other under the blanket, Steve nestled against Eddie’s chest, drooling onto the same pillow.

In the morning, Steve will wake up, hungover. But Eddie will be right there, a glass of water and some painkillers in his hands. The same words again, “I love you.”

🎃—————🥧

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ghost House Report: A Requiem For You - Jude Jazza Premium End

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. If you'd like to be added to my translations tag list, please comment below.Thank you, for you support! ☾.

CW: Corpse, Death.

Anne: I couldn't keep my promise to my papa to be a good girl and wait for him...

Anne looked down at her corpse and muttered to herself.

Jude: Anne, ya turned into a ghost ‘n waited for him…….It was your father that didn’t keep his promise.

Anne: You’re wrong! My papa never breaks his promises!

Anne: I’m not lying to you, Cross my heart and hope to die,

Anne: stick a needle in my eye. ……that’s what he promised!

Anne: Someday, he’ll definitely come to pick me up……!

Kate: Anne……

Anne probably loves her father and wants to tell him that.

However, the mansion's investigation records did not contain any reports of girls going missing in the past.

Objectively speaking, her father did not come to pick her up, nor did he look for Anne, who died here.

Anne: But……I’m tired of waiting.

Kate: What……?

Anne: I’m talking about my papa, but I’m already dead and I can’t leave the mansion……

Anne: ……Since I’m tired, I think I should give up.

Kate: That……

Jude: …………

Anne: Miss Kate and Mister Jude’s coming here may be a good chance.

Anne: Now at the end, thank you for the fun memories……

Smiling sadly, Anne gradually disappears.

(Anne will disappear just like this……?)

(She waited and waited and waited for her father, but he never showed up……)

(….I can't overlook such a sad ending!)

Kate: Wait!

I stretched out my hand towards Anne as she disappeared.

Anne was surprised by my voice that held her back, and her transparent body gradually returned to normal.

Kate: I'll find your father and bring him to you, so please wait until then.

Judging from the condition of her body, Anne must have been dead for decades.

If it was that long ago, we wouldn't know if Anne’s father was still alive.

But, I couldn't leave Anne alone, who had kept waiting for her father.

Kate: Jude, quit being silent and say something!

Jude: …..? What?

Kate: I’ll let you meet your father. Jude, that’s what you promised.

For a while now, Jude hasn’t been acting like Jude.

Even though he usually places so much emphasis on keeping his promises,

When Anne grew tired of waiting and tried to disappear, he didn't try to stop her.

Kate: Are you willing to break your promise? Are you giving up before you take action? That Jude!**

Jude: ……What’s that, ya tryna provoke me by givin’ me a bad name?

Kate: Yes, I’m provoking you!

Kate: Usually, you’ve would’ve dragged the father over here.

(I don't know what killed Jude's spirit.)

(……But in order to find the father, I need Jude’s help.)

I thought I had to do something to get Jude motivated, so I went for it.

Jude: ……Ha. Seems like you’ve started sayin’ some pretty big things.

Kate: Sorry……but, I won’t take it back. Because right now these are the words you need, Jude.

When I finished speaking, Jude finally gave me his usual cruel smile.

Jude: —Anne. As she said, I never break my promises.

Jude: As promised, I’ll letcha meet your father.

Anne: ……Really? I’ll be able to meet my papa?

Anne: Ah! I’m a ghost, but I won't curse you two just because you broke your promise to bring my papa.

Kate: ……That’s not it. We’re not keeping our promise because we’re afraid of you being a ghost, Anne.

I didn't want Anne to cry, I wanted her to have hope, so I promised her that I would let her meet her father.

I simply wanted her to meet her father.

Kate: I’m keep my promise not because I'm afraid of being cursed, but because I want to do something for you.

Anne: …….,Thank you. Miss Kate and Mister Jude.

Jude: Now to set a date for the meet up.

Anne: ……date? .......

Jude: The point of when the promise is fulfilled.

Jude: Anne, remember. When ya make an agreement like this, ya hafta to be very clear ‘bout the terms.

Jude: Didn't ya hafta wait for years?

Anne: ……Yeah.

Anne: Papa said he would come, but it was really hard to wait for a promise that I didn’t know when it would come true.…..

Jude: ……I understand.

(Jude……?)

Jude: If ya can wait that long, be patient a lil longer.

Jude: I’ll definitely return, so be a good kid ‘n wait.

Anne: Yeah……!

Leaving Anne at the mansion, we finished the investigation and returned to Crown Castle.

Kate: Jude, let’s look for Anne’s father right away!

Kate: I'm going to ask Victor now for permission to view past records—

Jude: No, I’ve already found her father.

Kate: Huh…….already?!

Jude: The necklace hangin’ on Anne’s neck.

Kate: Ah, it’s Anne’s mother’s necklace.

Kate: She said she secretly took it from her Father……

Kate: …….Yeah? Come to think of it, you were also looking for a necklace.

Kate: Maybe it's the necklace that Anne was wearing.…..

Jude: T’was the same necklace I was asked to look for.

Jude: The wealthy ol’ man who asked me to find the belongin’s would be Anne's father.

Jude: Gonna leave ‘n see ‘im soon. Get depressed ‘n I’ll leave ya behind.

We traveled by carriage and arrived at the mansion of the wealthy man.

Wealthy Old Man: Don’t you think it’s rude of you to ask for me this late at night?

Jude: I finished looking for the belongings that were part of the conditions set for the land sale. I’d like you to check it out as soon as possible.**

Wealthy Old Man: You’ve found my wife’s belongings?! I guess it can’t be helped……

Jude: Here it is……Take it, and look it over.

Wealthy Old Man: Let’s see.

The old man takes the necklace from Jude, and carefully inspects it.

(This person is Anne’s father. ……He looks to be around 80 years old.)

(……Anne had been waiting for a long time.)

When I think about Anne waiting for her father in that gloomy mansion, my heart breaks.

Wealthy Old man: ……This is my wife’s necklace. You found it for me.

Jude: About that, there’s something I’d like to tell you.

Jude: I'd like to speak to you at the location where the necklace was found... Would you mind coming?

Wealthy Old Man: That haunted house... my wife's precious belongings have finally returned. I don’t mind if it’s just for a little while.

While occasionally lending a shoulder to the crippled old man, we brought him to the hidden room in the haunted mansion.

Wealthy Old Man: We’ve come this far. Can you tell me the story now?

Jude: Yes. By all means……talk to her.

Wealthy Old Man: Her……?

The old man looked up, and there stood Anne.

Anne: Papa……!

Even though he's gotten older and his appearance has changed, Anne seems to still recognize her father.

She happily jumped onto the old man.

Wealthy Old Man: C-could this be……Anne……?!

Anne: Yeah! You finally came to pick me up as promised……!

Wealthy Old Man: Promise……

Anne: I believed you! That you’d come for me, Papa!

The old man who had a look of shock on his face didn't hug Anne back.

Anne: ……Papa, I have to apologize for something.

Anne: The day I said goodbye to you, Papa, I had taken mama’s necklace. Can you forgive me?

Wealthy Old Man: Oh, oh, of course........I also have to apologize to you, Anne.

Anne: About being late to pick me up? That’s okay! After all, you came to pick me up properly!

Anne: Thank you, Papa. I love you very very much……

Anne: And then….Miss Kate, Mister Jude. Thank you for bringing my papa.

Anne smiled happily and disappeared with a light.

Jude: ……So? What on earth were ya doin’ waitin’ until ya were this ol’ to come ‘n get her?

Wealthy Old Man: Well, that's... I was looking for Anne, who disappeared after I sold her to the owner of this mansion.

Jude kicked a chair in the room as if to interrupt the old man's words.

Wealthy Old Man: Eek!

Jude: All ya asked me to do was search for your wife’s belongins’…...

Jude: Ever since ya sold Anne to the owner of this mansion, ya ain’t ever looked for her.

Wealthy Old Man: I-I couldn’t love that child.

Wealthy Old Man: My wife died after she gave birth to that child, and I thought that child had killed my wife. So……

Jude: Then ya sold Anne to the owner of this mansion, ‘n used the money to start a successful business.

Jude: Ya happy thatcha got rich by sacrificin’ your kid?

Wealthy Old Man: I-I let her go because I was thinking of that child’s happiness!

Wealthy Old Man: I didn’t think was good for that child to be raised without love.

Jude: ……So ya tryin’ to say it ain’t your fault.

Jude's earthy voice oozed with unconcealed murderous intent.

Jude: Ain’t no way a child can be happy if someone buys ‘em for a pittance.

Wealthy Old Man: That’s……

Perhaps out of guilt, the old man’s eyes wandered around.

He probably knew what would become of Anne, when he sold her to the owner of the mansion.

Kate: That’s too cruel…….Anne’s been waiting for you for a long time……!

Wealthy Old Man: I feel sorry..…. Let's bury the body next to my wife's grave.

The old man looked at the body resting in the corner of the room and quickly looked away, as if he couldn't bear to look at it.

(There’s no sign of mourning for the departed Anne……)

(……Anne’s been waiting for this type of person?)

I was filled with helpless thoughts, but there was nothing I could do..

The only consolation is that Anne smiled when she disappeared.

Jude: ……That’s ‘nough. My business is finished, I’m goin’ home.

Jude suddenly seems to have lost interest and turns on his heel. I followed after him.

Wealthy Old Man: Well, wait. I have a bad foot. I need you to lend me a hand when I go home.

Jude: It’d be nice is somebody came back to pick ya up.

Wealthy Old Man: …….You over there, lend me a hand.

When Jude refused, the old man tried to rely on me.

But, I didn’t want to help him because of what he did to Anne.

As I was wondering how to refuse, Jude grabbed my arm and forcibly led me out.

On the way back home in the carriage, Jude still had a grim expression on his face.

(There was something I wanted to ask Jude, but it didn't seem like I could ask him.)

Jude: ……What. Got somethin’ to say, then say it.

Kate: S-sorry……Um……

Kate: Jude you weren’t like your usual self, you were being lenient, so I wondered why……

Jude likes to make rich people who sit safely in high places to despair.

He’s said before that he’ll never forgive a contract defaulter.

Anne's father fits those two conditions perfectly.

However, Jude didn't push him into a corner or torture him any more than necessary.

Jude: Personally, I was so angry I wanted to kill ‘im.

Jude: But, Anne doesn’t want that.

Kate: Ah……

(……It’s true that Anne loved her father until the end.)

(No matter how angry we are, Anne doesn't want her father to suffer.)

(Instead of being consumed by anger, Jude was thinking about Anne's feelings……)

When I think about Anne, I’m not in the mood to chat.

A quiet moment passed without either of us saying anything.

I wondered how much time passed. Eventually, Jude began speaking to himself.

Jude: No matter how unreasonable it was, you wouldn’t hate it,

Jude: Waiting as a ghost for the day when the promise would be fulfilled.…..

Jude: ……Love is a curse.

After everything that happened in the haunted house was cleared up, I decided to write a report about it.

However, I quickly got stuck, so I went to the lounge for a change of pace.

Jude: ……Ya look gloomy. Still thinkin’ ‘bout the kid?

Kate: ……Yes.

Anne met her father and ascended to heaven with a happy smile on her face.

(Anne must have been happy with that, but…… I still can't get over the feeling in my chest.)

(“Love is a curse……”)

I recall the words Jude muttered in the carriage on the way home.

No matter how unreasonable and cruel her father was, Anne loved her father and kept waiting.

On the other hand, Anne's father was worried that he would be cursed because of breaking his promise due to having no love for her.

(I think what binds people together more firmly than the fear of punishment surely is...love.)

(Jude isn’t the kind of person who is afraid of punishment.)

(If that's the case, then the promise that Jude is trying to keep was also made out of love……?)

Curious about this I looked at Jude, and our eyes met.

Jude: ……Ain’t it better to just forget?

Kate: What……?

Jude: About Anne. Worryin’ ‘bout it is a waste of time.

Kate: ……No, I won't forget.

I will never forget the smile Anne gave me and the time we spent together.

Kate: I will make sure to record this incident in the report, and then……

Kate: I will do my best as a fairytale writer to ensure that such a tragic event is never recorded again.

Kate: I believe that if we use the Crown to defeat evil, we can nip these tragedies in the bud.

Jude: ……Ha. It’d be easier to forget, but I as I thought, you’re a masochist for choosin’ the thorny path.

Jude said in exasperation and left the common room.

Kate: This is fine……

After struggling for several days.…..I finished writing the report on the haunted mansion.

(When I finish writing the report, I always feel like the incident has come to a close.…..)

(.…..I don't think I'll be able to forget this incident any time soon.)

Her father will soon be tried on charges of human-trafficking for selling Anne to the mansion’s owner.

But he doesn't have long to live. Even if he does atone for his sins, it won't be for very long.

(Anne was made to suffer, so is it cruel to want someone to suffer just as much…..)

(……It’s no use. I can’t sleep while thinking about this.)

It felt like my thoughts were getting darker and more stagnant, perhaps because of the silence of the night.

When I headed to the kitchen to get something to drink to refresh my mood,

Victor was there humming while making sweets.

Victor: Oh, good evening Kate. Are you staying up late tonight?

Kate: Yes. I can’t sleep……

Victor: Jude had the same look on his face as you. It must be because of that haunted house mission you two recently did.

For the past few days, I've been going back and forth between the library and my room to finish writing my report.

I never met Jude, so I didn't know what was going on with him.

(I wonder if Jude feels the same way as me.)

Kate: ……Victor, I'm going to check on Jude.

Sorry for the delay. There were several lines that were quite a challenge to translate. Can't wait to see the EN version to be released and see how off I am. Anyway....

**Jude appears to be using proper English when addressing Anne's sperm donor at the start of their conversation, and then he appears to drop it after she ascends to heaven. ***For this line, 御託はええわ (Gotaku wa ewa), was placed before Jude said he was only told to look for the necklace, but I chose to drop this from the t/l. It seems to indicate pretentious/tedious/saucy speech to name a few. It would appear Jude is calling the donor's response tedious, however, this can potentially be translated another way, and I won't bore you with that. But, if anyone knows how, this is rendered properly, kindly let me know in the comments.

[Master Lists] [Bitter End] [Epilogue] Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 Dividers: @/brokenbard

[fatallyfalling]

Darling ~ ♆

“ C’mere Darling, “

{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}

warnings: pure fluff, little bit of ptsd if ya squint, reader is gender neutral but has rlly short hair

{{ prompt }} the night is too hard to bear alone, so you seek out the one person who can make everything feel safe again

{{ a/n }} because i’m a liar and can’t post consistent updates for Bitter Water here is a drabble because i’m sad and dysphoria is kicking my ass <3 this is 100% self indulgent i’m so sorry, i also didn’t run this through my normal editing software so please be nice aaaaaaaaaaa

You didn’t like sleeping alone, in fact you despised it.

The bed felt too big and too cold. The dark shadows in the corners near your wardrobe were too ominous to look at for long periods of time as well. You barely wanted to close your eyes, fearing the vivid night terrors that lurked in the trenches of your memories after the sun had set. You tried to comfort and self soothe by keeping a small string of warm lights curled around your headboard but it wasn’t enough to keep the poltergeists in your head away tonight.

With a shaky sigh you pulled yourself from the soft bedding and tugged on a familiar too-big ivory, cable knit sweater that smelled of sea salt with a faded almonds and honey aroma. Pausing to deeply inhale the comforting scent for a moment, the tightness in your chest uncoiled itself a smidge. Blinking away the exhaustion in your eyes, you picked up the comfort item you couldn’t bear to sleep without, threadbare seams from years of love and all, and hugged the plush close before padding out of your bedroom and downstairs towards your front door.

The dusty blue walls and white baseboards had always been too ornate for your liking, and the house you’d been gifted in the Victors Village was too creaky and empty to be alone in all the time. Without caring to slip on a pair of shoes, you left the large empty house and crept across the quiet street towards a house that felt more familiar and safe. It didn’t matter that all of the houses more or less looked the same, what mattered was what lay inside this one, that made it different. The lights weren’t on but you administered a hesitant knock, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while an anxious crease formed between your brows.

No answer.

You waited a beat before trying again, knocking a bit firmer. The crisp air was chilly, sending a shiver up your spine despite the thick sweater and having wrapped the too-long sleeves over your knuckles to mimic mittens. Your overactive mind started to wonder if you should bother him at this hour, it was indeed very late and he very well could be asleep. Holding the plush in your hands a bit closer, you felt the small flicker of hope in your chest go out after no inference of an answer appeared in the dark windows of the home. Maybe you should go back to your house, even if the idea of doing so churned your insides. Releasing a defeated sigh through your nose, you had turned and started back down the steps of the wooden porch when a small click sounded behind and an all too familiar voice rasped your name.

“What’s wrong…?”

Your head whirls, meeting groggy sea-green irises with eyelids dragged down by sleep. The male’s hair was tousled more than usual, clear evidence he’d been dozing off before your interruption. “I-I’m sorry, I just- my house was too uhm… a-and-“ your stumbling sentences trail off as your cheeks flush, ears burning red as your gaze falls to your socks.

“C’mere Darling,”

The sleepy drawl in the victor’s voice was enough to shut your mouth and set your legs moving to melt into his warm embrace. “mm sorry Finn,” you murmur into his chest as strong arms wrap around your shoulders and waist. A comforting weight rests on your head from Finnick’s chin and the vibrations of his voice are felt against your cheek on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. Let’s get inside,”

You simply nod, allowing him to lead you in, with your fingers gently interlaced. The calluses on his hands from seafaring and training with his trident were rough, but you didn’t mind. Finnick was always gentle in his touches, careful not to startle or press too harshly. There were few people you allowed to touch you after the traumatic events of your past, and combined with Finnick’s own touch aversions the two of you found peace in the gentleness of each other’s company.

You’re led upstairs into Finnick’s bedroom, his hand never leaving yours while guiding you over to the bed. The two of you comfortably settled beneath the covers as he pulled you close, your head resting on his chest listening to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, while soft featherlight touches drew lazy circles on the bare plush of your thigh hooked over his hip with calloused fingertips. Finnick’s other arm lay under your head, fingers traveling over the buzzed scruff at the nape of your neck and threading through the longer, soft and fluffy mess atop your head. He didn’t mind your shorter hair, rather enjoying playfully ruffling it every chance got and the way you melted into the touch when he threaded his fingers through it.

A content hum emits from your chest as the two of you tangle together in a pleasant embrace. “Home too scary again?” Finnick whispers into your hair. The dim lighting in the room from his bedside lamp gave everything a soft, golden glow that invited comfort and stability to your aching chest. “Yea…” you meekly respond, meeting those sea-green eyes and only finding compassion mixing with hints of worry. A small smile crosses the victor’s lips, dimples pressing into tanned cheeks, as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “s’okay Darling, I’ve got you, you’re safe here.”

You can’t help melting further into the male’s touch. Another content hum leaving your lips as you press ever closer to his chest. The warmth all but lulls you into a gentle sleep, Finnick’s ministrations through your hair adding to the welcome comfort. “m’ love you,” You murmur, words smothered by sleep and your cheek pressing to the male’s tanned chest. You felt safe again, perfectly content and relaxed in the victor’s arms, his almonds and honey aroma soaking into your senses in a pleasant warmth that had you nuzzling closer to his chest.

“I love you more Darling ~”

Finnick’s voice rumbles against your cheek through his chest, and he gives a gentle, reassuring squeeze to your thigh before the two of you settle into a comforting slumber.

It felt good to be home with him, to be safe, and cared for, and loved.

“m’ love you most,”

{{ tags }}

[maul-of-shame]

You know you don't have to shove your disgusting elrondriel down people's throats right?

You know you don’t have to shove your whining and bitchy moaning into my inbox, right?

Like, was there a council meeting I missed where you were assigned as the fandom’s self-righteous taste police? Because if so, babe, I'm pretty sure the Fellowship didn’t vote you in.

I ship what I ship. You don’t like it? That’s a you problem, not a me problem. You could’ve scrolled, blocked, or gone outside to touch some grass, but instead, you chose pathetic bitchy whining in my inbox. Big brain move, truly.

The circus called, they want their clown back.🤡

And listen, I don’t know what your takes or ships are, but dude—DUDE—if you’re going to crumble into a puddle of salt over fictional characters and who people decide to pair them with in their own space, you might need to take a long, hard look at your priorities in life. Like, genuinely—are you okay?

Is this the hill you’ve chosen to die on? Out of all the injustices in the world, all the things you could be channeling your clearly overflowing energy into, you picked this? Really?

You’re here, furiously typing up your righteous little manifesto against my Elrondriel ship content, as if your dislike somehow validates barging into someone’s creative space like an uninvited party guest with terrible vibes. You know what would’ve been a better use of your time? Literally anything else. Picking up a book. Learning a hobby. Googling "how to mind my own business". Or—and this is just a suggestion—working on improving that personality of yours.

Because let’s be real, the way you’re carrying on here? It’s not giving "I have a valid point". It’s giving "I’m pressed because someone on the internet is having fun differently than me."

No one is forcing you to look at this content. No one dragged you into my space with a sword to your neck, shouting, "READ THE ELRONDRIEL POST!" You’re here because you chose to click, you chose to engage, and now you’re big mad because my fictional pairings don’t align with whatever pedestal you’ve put yourself on. Babe, that’s a you problem. The rest of us are here vibing, sipping tea, and enjoying our ships, while you’re out here acting like a one-person fandom inquisition.

So maybe the next time you feel the urge to go on a moral crusade over fandom ships, pause for a moment and ask yourself, "Does this make me look clever, or just pressed?" Because right now? You’re not Gandalf riding into battle with wisdom and gravitas. You’re Gollum, bitterly clutching onto your opinion as if it’s the One Ring, and nobody here is impressed.

If fictional pairings genuinely upset you this much, I’m begging you—step away from the keyboard, take a deep breath, and find something that sparks joy

Also, I’m truly not sure who appointed you the Mouth of Sauron for Fandom Canon Purity™ (if so, please go see your local dentist), but I don’t recall asking for your opinion, your sanctimonious tantrum, or whatever sad little hill you think you’re dying on?

You’re not Aragorn leading a noble charge. You’re that one orc who gets yeeted off Helm’s Deep for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So, take your whining, your unsolicited opinions, and that big ol’ chip on your shoulder, and go find somewhere else to be miserable.

Bye Felicia 👋✨

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Friday everyone! Doing today cause I shall be doing 5x01 On Sunday like I mentioned before to not be posting on Christmas. :) Holy crap we’re on the S4 finale. I remember when I watching it when it premiered thinking is this real life? Thought I was in a fever dream haha Made some long gifs to fit everything in LOL This one is super packed also this ep doesn’t need much more of an intro. So let’s get this party started.

4x22 Day in The Hole

Our fav patch work family gets the cold open. This moment truly is Tim and Lucy in mom/dad mode. Makes me so damn happy. Tim complaining because Tamara is late to meet them. Moaning on and on saying they have to go... but makes no effort to actually move or leave. Because the both of them have Tim wrapped around their finger. That man isn't moving but will complain the whole time about it LOL Lucy going into wifey mode calming him down saying she’ll be here. Relax. ha

Tamara pulls in and almost hits someone. In a police station parking lot... Their reactions I’m dying. Just a couple of concerned parents watching their kid almost cause an accident. Lucy is a proud mom as she pulls up. Clapping her hands. Tim looking like the stern father. He glares at the car wanting to see if this car is safe enough for her. This is a glimpse into them as parents. I’m liking what I see. Also can I say how cute it is Lucy wants Tim to look at her car in first place. Of course he said yes.

Tamara comes out and says isn’t she pretty? Saying it’s her first car. Lucy correcting her saying actually her car was her first. Tamara makes a joke about it being her fifth if they’re talking stolen. Tim has such a dad moment. ‘What?’ She loves to push their buttons it’s hilarious. Telling Tim it's a joke. Just loves messing with her pseudo mom and dad. Lives for it really. This is a fantastic way to start this episode off.

The family energy in this scene giving me all the feels. Lucy telling her to get it checked by the mechanic first. That you never know what cars from seized police auction go through. Tamara says Tim set her up with his guy already. Lucy is beaming about this. Says ‘Awww you do have a heart.’ ha Tim can't be seen as soft so he deflects.

But you are soft for both your girls Tim…This much is obvious ha You're a soft little puppy for them. I mean it's only for them but a marshmallow none the less. His reply is sassy af. Saying it’s purely out of self interest. He didn’t want to deal with Lucy being a drag with her dying in a mangled fireball of metal on the 405. The scoff/look Tamara shoots his way is hilarious. Tim fires back ‘Joke.’

Like Father like daughter and I’m dying with the cuteness in this cold open. Also Tim mirroring her posture from when she said 'Joke' to him. LMAO Unfortunately a drug sniffing dog starts barking at the car. Tim opens the hatch back and searches it. Find kilos of drugs hidden in the compartment. Tamara looks so sad. ‘I’m not getting my car back am I?’ Hahaha Sorry my dear you are definitely not…

Lucy looks up who the car is registered to. It's ‘Jake Butler.’ Lucy pulls up his mug shot and is confused as hell. Ahhhh the beginning of Dim it’s glorious. They pick up his doppelgänger and it's pretty amusing. Didn’t have room for that portion but his ‘Yo, why you looking like me?’ LOL Kills me. They get him into interrogation and the girls are having a field day with it. Enjoying Tim's discomfort so very much. Tim isn’t about this whatsoever of course.

Lucy says maybe they were separated at birth? Tim replies he’s a year older than him and was born in FL. You can see how unsettling he finds this. Tim tries to brush this off. Saying he doesn’t look that much like him. Ok honey… Angela saying he’s not the brightest bulb. Lucy gets excited and says ‘Tim and Dim’ LMAO Enjoying herself far too much with this. Angela and Nyla are joining in on it laughing with her. They aren't helping tamp down her excitement about this at all.

Tim calling Jake 'Dim' is hilarious. Lucy's face when he does is too cute. Also It cracks me up the minute they enter interrogation Dim hits on Lucy. Doesn't waste any time. I’m dying. Also you know Melissa and Eric had a blast filming these scenes. They’re so funny. The cockiness on Dim saying she would remember ha! Man isn’t lacking in the confidence department that's for sure. They tell him they found his car. He gets all excited saying someone stole it LOL

They inform him it was towed cause he parked by a hydrant haha Tim confronts him about the drugs in the car and Dim denies having it. Because of course he does. His fingerprints are all over the bags. Tim says he helps them and they’ll keep him out of prison. Dim gets offended and says he thought they had a bond ha.

Lucy asks where the drugs came from? He tells them Mexico that he was supposed to drive them over the border. But then he wanted to see his girl first before he dropped them off. I.e. Juicy heh When he came back out the car was gone. Tim asks for the name of the guy they were going to. He tells them Ray Hajek. Lucy gets a look in her eye and asks if his crew ever met him? He tells them no but why? We watch Lucy light up and Tim is confused why she is so excited haha

It’s here we see Lucy’s excitement go into hyperdrive. I love this portion because she is like a kid in a candy store with this. The sugary high to go along with it LOL Grey and Angela are no help to Tim whatsoever. They are beyond amused by Lucy’s antics. Like to note how easily Tim gives into Lucy’s demands here btw. You're married you just don’t know it yet.

Once he agrees Lucy gets ultra hyper which has me cackling. I love how she stops him with her hands. Because she’s too excited to walk now. Saying all the things they need to do to get him to look like Dim. Tim pointing out she is enjoying this way too much. Duh. I love her excited speed walk to catch up to him and say he needs tattoos. Lucy was a little too excited for those tats heh She sure loves the idea of a clean cut Tim Bradford covered in tattoos.

We pan to Lucy being on the team watching Tim’s OP. Part of the rescue team if needed. Kinda nice to see her on the watching end instead of him. Being just as much the worried wifey as he is the husband for her when she does UC. He gets taken up to the boss and does a damn good job of it. They’re pissed at him first because he disappeared with their drugs. Tim saying he went to ground because he didn’t want to get caught. Trying to avoid jamming him up.

He then asks why Wisco his heavy shouldn’t throw him over the balcony? We watch Lucy and Angela tense up. Tim has this handled with his reply above though. He is shocked with his intelligent reply. Saying he heard he was dumb. Tim continues on saying he wants people to think he’s dumb. Means they underestimate him.

That answer is enough for him. Tell Tim get his cash on way out. Or he could do another job for him and triple it. Tim asks what kind of job? He won’t divulge that portion just yet. Only that it’s heavy and tomorrow. They’ll need a driver. They heard his old lady is fast. Tim makes a crack 'Sometimes too fast.' He laughs and tells him they’ll be in touch with him.

Angela catches Lucy and tells her she had Dim’s GF picked up. Lucy is like 'Ok…Wait why are you being weird?' Angela says she needs to see for herself. She is enjoying this far too much. It’s Juicy! Haha Having AU Tim and Lucy makes my soul happy ahahah Now Tim is the one enjoying himself. Lucy is in shock when she sees her doppelgänger. Angela adding in ‘I guess we know who’s going undercover with Dim.’

Tim’s taunting is funny I’m rolling. ‘Yeah Juicy.’ ‘No’ ‘Mmhmm It’s Juicy’ LOL I’m dying this is so hilarious. Not so funny when it’s your double eh Lucy? Also you know Angela was enjoying this way too much as well. Lucy’s ‘I don’t like that…’ cracks me up. She is so disturbed by having her own double. She was having fun before and now she doesn't like it. Also probably stirring some stuff up there is an AU version of them out there. Not only that but they're together.

We’ve arrived at THE scene for the episode. Tim is over at Lucy’s for OP prep. Saying the backstory has to be airtight. Lucy agrees with him and asks how they met? Tim's answer of a BBQ is vanilla as it gets. This is why she’s the UC babe LOL Lucy telling him that’s lame. I love her just being so upfront with him. She always is but there is a confidence here I love. This is her wheelhouse and Tim is just along for the ride. This is her show really and she proves that in this scene.

Tim is such a stubborn turd saying ‘You think you can do better?’ Oh Timothy you’re about to have your mind blown and your brain broken…She starts out strong saying ‘Watch me.’ Lucy rubs her hands together. Saying they met because he was on the run from the cops. Tim nodding along but not totally sold yet. Lucy continues on with he ended up in her building frantic.Looking for a place to hide.

That she was the one who opened up the door for him. That she lied to the cops for him. It's here we see Tim starts to be impressed with her backstory. That sweet smirk of his in the second gif. You know he is in awe of her right now. That smirk and head tilt is a dead giveaway. Look at how soft he looks gazing at her. Fooling no one sir.

Lucy’s confidence continues as she finishes up their backstory. It's the smug smile and direct eye contact she gives him as she delivers that line above that gets me. I watch this scene and I’m still in shock we got it. That Lucy is talking about their alter egos hooking up while the cops search for him. Thus his brain malfunctioning. Tim’s reaction is glorious. It will always make me laugh no matter how many times I see it.

Kudos to Eric for crushing it like he always does. Lucy short circuited his brain and it shows. He is having an repeated error message and failing to reboot. You can tell he’s trying to hide the fact she turned him on a little. She achieved this with her confidence through out the story and just blowing his mind right at the end. The man will never recover. He is legit speechless.

Tim was not expecting her to go there at all. She floored him while simultaneously turning him on LOL His professional brain came to a screeching halt when she finished. Also I'm sure he wasn't expecting to be turned on by just her words either. His body was not ready for such things. Good thing he’s sitting cause I’m sure his pants just got a little tighter….

Tim then remembers he has to reply to her plan now haha Trying to gain his wits about him. Telling her ‘Ok….that..that's pretty good actually.’ Pretty good? She just blew your backstory out of the water. Then proceeded to make your brain stop working. You know he’s a mixture of turned on and impressed as hell with her. Won’t say so but his face said it all for us didn’t it? He legit had his jaw drop like a cartoon hahaha

Tim is seeing she truly is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to UC holy crap. She is also basking in the fact that she crushed his plan with her own, made him speechless, and then got a compliment out of him. Lucy is feeling pretty proud of herself when she says 'Thank you.' I love seeing this confidence on her. It's a good look. Just like I'll never over Tim's growth same goes for her. To see the confident bad ass woman she is now. How far she's come. I love it seeing it.

Once Tim has some semblance of a brain back he mentions the elephant in the room. That if they’re gonna sell they're together. They’re gonna have to...You know…. Lucy knowing exactly what he’s talking about but giving him a hard time. Trying to get him to say the words. Pretending like she has no idea what he’s talking about. He continues to get flustered and stammers around. Poor Tim. He struggles with his words and stutters. He’s shocked she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Lucy is enjoying herself far too much. Look at her face. Letting him dangle and trip over his words. Knowing talking about this is making him so very uncomfortable LOL So mean to do to your soulmate Lucy ha She finally throws him a lifeline and says we might have to PDA? Tim gets frustrated she strung him along and says never mind. Lucy stops him and says he’s right. If they’re going to kiss it shouldn’t be for the first time.

Then the awkwardness that is them pre-kiss ensues. They’re not sure what to do now…So Lucy suggests they stand up. No one does awkward better than these two. They’re so out of their depth right now. It's hysterical. I love a nervous Lucy Chen she is beyond adorable right here. The way Tim starts to lean in and she bails LOL Saying ‘No’ with a nervous giggle ejecting far away from him I’m rolling.

She totally chickens out at first and I don’t blame her. After last episode I'm sure her emotions are going haywire in this moment. Being shy because she already knows of the feelings there. That this was going to bring them out even more. Tim is about to find out himself what this kiss will reveal. Tim is exasperated and not understanding what’s going on here.

He's got a let's do this and get it over with attitude. The thing is Tim is nervous too. Look at him in that first gif. Takes a deep cleansing breath before trying to give her a kiss. He is just as nervous as she is. One thing to banter and flirt with your partner. It's another to kiss them. They’re both buzzing with nerves and it’s adorable af. Hats off to Eric and Melissa in this scene. I can feel all their anxiety and giddiness in this moment. They do an amazing job in this portion.

Tim get frustrated again and says ‘Oh, you know what? We’re professionals. Let’s just get this over with.’ Lucy’s reaction is the best part LOL Telling him 'Whoa! that’s romantic.' His childish reply of saying he wasn’t trying to be romantic LMAO OMG it’s a good thing you’re about to kiss. Because I wanna yell at them to kiss and get a room already.

Their banter is primo in this scene. Legendary really as is this entire scene. We talk about them being married a lot but never more so than before this kiss. Lucy telling him he’s succeeding and he replies with his pouty face. It’s all so hilarious to watch unfold. Lucy’s nervousness continues to shine through. Trying to reset herself as she psyches herself up to kiss him.

Tim never fails in making me laugh with his expressions and reactions. Telling her in an sarcastic tone to ‘Take her time...’ LOL Lucy trying to give herself a pep talk while Tim stands there exasperated af with her. He is so very done at this point. Just waiting her out at this point. Because he’s used to his wife antics. I love his annoyed deep sigh he let outs when she’s ready to rejoin him. The way he swings his arms in impatience lol

Tim finally leans in and gives her the most pitiful peck on the lips. He’s so proud of himself when he pulls back though. It’s pretty damn adorable if you ask me. He is expecting praise from his girl only to be demolished by her. Lucy was definitely expecting way more than what he just delivered. It's almost like she has to hold back a laugh at his lack luster attempt. Also that he thought he did a good job with it. Saying ‘I'm s...Sorry, is that it?' After all that build up just an innocent peck on the lips? Tim is so offended about her critique till she lays one on him. Effectively silencing him with a kiss. Also like to note how I love how this season started with an almost kiss and ends with an actual one. Lovely bookend.

I’ll never be over her cutting him off with her lips and grabbing him by the face. Pulling him forcefully towards her lips. *phew lord* Has his whole face in her hands while she has her way with him. I love how he stumbles into the kiss at first. If you watch him in the beginning of this gif you see him fall forward into the kiss. Wasn’t expecting that show of force from her. He needs a second to readjust his body into what’s now happening. Both of their frustrations with each other melting away once their lips touch. Takes them a moment to find their rhythm. Then it’s all about melding into one another. Fitting like the perfect puzzle pieces they low key always knew they were.

How Lucy’s right hand drops to his chest as she gets comfortable in this kiss. In his arms. Doing what comes naturally while in them. She keeps her left hand firmly on his face though. Keeping those beautiful lips of his directed at her. We watch Tim start to melt into Lucy as well. See how his body begins to relax against hers. His hand has made it's way up to her shoulder. Had this continued I have no doubt they would've swapped places from where they started. His hands continuing their journey upwards. Tim encasing her face in his hands as he continued to kiss her as if his life depended on it.

We see them start to get lost in their kiss. That argument of their's a moment ago is long forgotten. It’s such a sexy first kiss sweet lord. Tim has quickly adjusted from the beginning of the kiss. He's eased into it now and is ready to go for more. We saw him begin startled then quickly relax into her as the kiss goes on. Seems so natural like they've done this before. Reminds me of Chandler and Monica. When Joey/Rachel ask Chandler what he felt when he and Monica kissed after being friends for so long? Telling them felt like 'Why haven't we been doing this the entire time?' This kiss represents that line IMO.

Look at the way he is melting into her as he looks to deepens that kiss. He’s attached to her upper lip. We can see a little tongue too. Don't think I didn't see you slip that in Timothy heh. He is ready to take this further when their pseudo daughter walks in….I love it being Tim who deepened that kiss. Making that all important first move once again. Lucy wasn’t complaining one bit btw. Cracks me up how Tamara's first solution is to go. Let them have more time alone. I'm sure she's thought of them getting together before.

She doesn't seem terribly shocked by this so much as incredibly amused. How could she not with how they are? Then the awkward hilarity begins. I’ll never be over Lucy’s ‘Oh!’ As they fly apart from each other. Both trying to put a continent between them. It’s so damn funny. Went from hot and heavy to insanely embarrassed. The music stopping abruptly as well. Never fails to make me laugh my ass off. There is so much to love after the kiss as there is with it.

The way they scramble to explain why they were making out is priceless. Stumbling over their words and each other. Lucy trying to explain that this is 'Work' Uh huh. Sure let's call it that. Tim adding on they're going UC. Tamara is bemused to say the least. Telling them they don't have to explain themselves to her. Tim then starts looking desperately for items he didn’t bring LOL Then realizing he has nothing to gather up.

'You know what? No. I didn't bring anything...' LMFAO Flustered Tim Bradford is a joy to watch. Lucy already broke his brain earlier and then destroyed it with that kiss. You know he’s in love because that man doesn’t get flustered easily. He legit doesn’t know what to do with himself. Other than awkwardly retreat from Lucy. He is shook and it’s showing big time.

I love that he’s a complete disaster just from kissing Lucy. This entire scene is iconic and makes me so happy to watch. They awkwardly point at one another. For what reason I couldn't tell you. Other than they don't know what to do with themselves right now. The height of nervous awkwardness has arrived and I’m joyful Haha They’re both so embarrassed and flustered it’s glorious.

Lucy is flaming red after she tells Tim 'G...Good work tonight'. She is mortified she just said that to him after they made out. Tim replies in kind because he is also nervously awkward as he leaves. She can’t even look at him as he makes his hasty exit. Her back is turned to him as he departs and does another dorky finger point. Saying bye to Tamara as he does. Lucy's facial expressions are legit killing me. She then she turns around to face Tamara and it only gets worse.

Lucy has no idea what to say to being caught making out with Tim. Tamara's face in that second gif is hilarious. It's like she's giving Lucy a chance to explain herself further. Wanting to see what she'll come up with. She notices Lucy isn't in the right state of mind for answers. So Tamara saves her further embarrassment and says she’s headed to her room…Bless you. Your pseudo mother needed that LOL

We join Tim in the hallway post all of that mess haha. I once again must commend Eric and his wonderful expressions. He conveys so very much in this moment. It’s the range of emotions he expresses that is so impressive. He just nails it. This is the moment where Tim realizes his feelings for Lucy. Yes she short circuited his brain 100 percent here. But there is far more to this expression than that.

4x21 was Lucy’s epiphany episode. This is Tim’s 'Oh shit I’m in love with Lucy' moment. It’s like he finally has the answer to why he’s always felt the way he’s felt. Why he fought so hard for her not to wash out. Why he said and did things he didn’t totally understand for her. Explaining why he was so protective with her in UC. Why he was ALWAYS happier around her. Just like Lucy it’s hitting him like freight train. His feelings coming sharply into focus.

He goes from broken brain, to realization he’s in love with her, to oh shit I’m in love with my best friend...what am I going to do? The way his eye bug out a little as he comes to this conclusion is everything. That kiss cleared the skies in his brain. He can see clearly now and it scaring him a little. Everything was muddled before and now it’s clear as day. He looks back at her door before he is able to unroot himself from that spot. Tim Bradford is in love with Lucy Chen and it’s just hitting him ❤️

The awkward cuteness continues the next day. Tim is sitting in his truck with his thoughts. Probably having an existential crisis in the process tbh. I bet you he didn't sleep a wink last night either. Probably trapped in his thoughts the entire time. Also he is clearly just waiting for Lucy to appear. Which is pretty damn adorable.

He perks right up when she arrives. Makes me heart so happy actually. Giving me all the feels. He is so adorable waiting on the girl he loves so he can talk to her. They’re both so smitten at this point my heart is gonna implode. She spots him waiting in his truck. Then does her adorkable wave at him when he notices her looking at him. It's so cute I cannot. They’re both so nervous it’s beyond precious.

First off love them matching in colors. I feel this was intentional both being in light blue. Once they reach each other the air is rife with unresolved tension. They cut each other off both wanting to speak. Lucy tells him to go first. You can see Tim desperately wants to clear the air. Be vulnerable about the kiss. We see the hope on Lucy’s face as he struggles to find the words. That he is going to say that kiss unlocked something, that it was more than just a practice kiss etc.

That does seem where he is headed when he started this convo. Then our boy loses his nerve completely. Says they should work more on their backstory …You can see the sheer disappointment on Lucy’s face that he said that instead. Probably wishing she had gone first and not him. It’s ok Tim you’ll gain the courage in 5x08 don’t worry. My little awko tacos. How I love thee.

Phew lord that was daunting to write about and tackle haha The sheer volume of gifs out there for this one are immense. But damn I love their slow burn so very much and adore writing about it. Can’t believe we’re done with s4 what a trip.

~~~

Side notes-non chenford

Nolan had a SL but meh.

The only parts worth mentioning are Nell/Elroy being adorable. And how hilarious it was Pete slept through the entire fight scene for Bailey LOL

Thank you to all the readers been with me on this especially those from the very start. You know who you are :) Your likes, comments and reblogs have been a bright spot in my day shall see you all in S5 woo.

[ally1uvsu]

Someday I’ll get it. | Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Series .⠀›⠀Trans Namgyu Week 2025⠀‎ꪆৎ day 4; pregnancy — Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3

·⠀warnings info⠀· NSFW — . wc; ?k

summary; It was something Nam-gyu didn’t understand- he didn’t get why this was happening to him. He already felt super conscious over his body and gender and now.. this? It had been a long time since the games ended, and Nam-gyu only slept with one single person inside that hellhole. A certain purple haired man he hadn’t seen ever since the police found the so called mysterious island.

info; Trans pregnancy, anxiety, set as NSFW because mentions of drugs, thoughts about abortion, anxiety, and etc. Reuniting, crying, initial angst, happy ending yay!!, they get kicked outta the library lmfao, fighting, Nam-gyu fighting someone while pregnant.. they’re both soft as hell in here, anxious Nam-gyu, this is like tooth rotting fluff near the end so yay

notes; NGL I WAS REAL HESITANT WRITING THIS CUZ IDK WHAT Y’ALL’S OPINION WOULD BE!… but in req of one of my friends and a huge amount of begging, here I am to post it… ALSO SO SORRY FOR THE BURNT OUT PHASE AAAAAA 😭😭😭 I’ll post the rest of the week soon I promise pls

Nam-gyu's life felt like a perfect heaven ever since leaving the games, despite for some factors. Losing contact with someone he held dear up until now, Thanos. But even as it made him sad and upset, Nam-gyu didn't let it drag him down.

Life went smoother ever since he got a good amount of money for surviving the games when that island was found, all the alive players were recompensed and escorted back safely, but during the hassle of people, Nam-gyu lost Thanos and never really saw him again.

He quit his joh as a club promoter, rather sticking to something he'd actually like to do rather than staying up most of the nights up, he opened a bookstore nearby the house he lived. It wasn't the most crowded but it became a comfortable ambient. And with the money he still had, he managed to live pretty comfortably.

But not all happiness could last forever, could it?

A month later or so after the games ended, he began getting sick. It was weird, Nam-gyu had a strong immune system and had a good diet, so he didn't understand why he was sick.

Assuming it was just a cold, he went on for the first couple of weeks throwing up and just feeling like his hormones were all over the place. 

The last thread for him was when he missed his period. He had a hundred things running through his mind but none of that indicated the source of the problem.

Now, sitting down in the mattress of a hospital room after a few exams, Nam-gyu was waiting for his results. Sure, he could treat whatever he had with money, but what if it was something that couldn't be cured? Hell, he'd be screwed. Not because of the money but because he considered himself a pretty active person.

His thoughts were brought back to reality as he heard the door softly clicking open and a few footsteps walking inside the room, causing him to lift his head up to meet the warm eyes of a nurse. She looked.. oddly cheerful, so maybe Nam-gyu wasn't sick? Or.. something else? She looked a bit too happy for his own liking.

"Mr.Roh?" She called out gently, making his stomach churn with unease. But nevertheless, he gave her a brief nod. "Yeah, yeah that's me." His heart was beating so fast- he swore he could feel it all the way up in his throat. Swallowing hard. The seconds seemed to go by so slowly, and then finally, she spoke up. "Congrats, Mr. Roh Nam-gyu. It seems like you're going to be a father." 

A what.

Nam-gyu froze, his heart that was once thumping so loudly in his ears seemed to stop all of a sudden.

A baby? Being a father as in.. he's pregnant?

He swore he could throw up all over again, he wanted to scream but also cry in the same moment- but nothing came out of him. He sat there, frozen, staring at the nurse who was once  ecstatic but now was eyeing him worriedly.

"Mr.Roh? Are you okay?" She asked tentatively, walking towards him gently and setting the clipboard aside, holding his arms in her hands. As if on clue, Nam-gyu snapped back to reality. Nodding and forcing out a smile. "Yeah, yeah. That's uh, wonderful news." The man said, swallowing every urge to let out everything he felt in the moment. "I'll get going now."

Nam-gyu then grabbed whatever papers he needed to take, plus the sonography. "Mr.Roh, wait—"

But Nam-gyu was already fast walking out of the door, running, even. He stopped by his car, head a mess. Who the fuck was the father then?

Getting inside the car, Nam-gyu buckled himself in and turned the gear on, resting his hands firmly on the steering wheel.

"Pregnant." He uttered, the words ringing inside his head. Nam-gyu tried to recall who could he have possibly slept with, he has been careful ever since leaving the games and..

Oh shit, of course! The fucking games.

Thanos, he remembered having sex with him during lights out without even thinking about protection, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Nam-gyu had a whole fucking kid inside of him and the father of the baby was nowhere to be found, at least by Nam-gyu. Thanos had a kid and he didn't even know that he was going to be a father.

He could abort it, right?

He bit his lip, for some stupid fucking reason, Nam-gyu couldn't bring himself to fully accept it. He wasn't sure why, really. But he just couldn't fully accept ‘killing’ this.. thing inside of him.

A frustrated groan left his lips, banging his head against the steering wheel and causing it to accidentally honk. He immediately looked up to see some startled pedestrian giving him the nasty look, and Nam-gyu just did it back.

He sighed, thinking about it out in the streets wouldn't do it. So instead, he just began driving back towards his house, maybe he'd think it out better over there.

The drive felt longer than it usually did, maybe it was because of the mess going through his head. He couldn't exactly record getting to his bedroom, but here he was, changing into pajamas and staring at himself in the mirror, a tentative finger poking his belly.

He cringed at it, pregnant. What the hell would he do? Sure, he had the money, but he didn't have people around, family, friends, hell he basically had no one. Money wasn't a problem, it wouldn't be but.. there was also dysphoria, the fact that Thanos wasn't here. Thanos didn't know he was going to have a kid, fuck this kid wouldn't have another parent.

It was around one in the afternoon, but Nam-gyu felt utterly drained. He just.. got under the blankets, staring blandly at the wall. He gripped the sheets, not sure how to feel about it. He felt mad, angry, sad, he just didn't get it.

Despite the fact he stayed in bed for the rest of the whole day, Nam-gyu didn't get a wink of sleep. Even if he knew that sleeping would do good for his thoughts, it wasn't that easy when your mind was having a huhdred thoughts to think under an hour.

Maybe he could take a walk, hell, if he was in any condition to he'd probably go to a club and get high.

And then it hit him, right! A club, if there was any place Thanos would be, it'd be a stupid club. More specifically the club he used to work at.

Getting out of the warm comfort of the bedsheets, Nam-gyu tiredly changed into something somewhat more proper for getting out, not overdoing it. This time, he had decided not to drive, maybe taking a walk would do him some good.

The breeze felt soft outside, caressing his hair. The faint smell of something he couldn't quite explain brought him a sense of nostalgia for no reason, and his chest felt like it was being squeezed with every step.

He wasn't sure why he was reacting like this, maybe he was just overwhelmed? A whole baby growing inside of you.. already nearly three months old wasn't something to take lightly.

He wasn't sure if Thanos actually would be there, but not going was better than nothing, right? 

He eyed people all around, some were laughing, some were together walking in silence. So many people could be going through this but no, the universe chose him.

Quickening his step, Nam-gyu followed the all too familiar pathway towards the Pentagon club, a shuddering sigh leaving his lips when he spotted it not too far from him.

It felt weird to be back after such a long time, for some reason, his stomach churned with anxiety. It was still a tad early, so he gave the bouncer his ID and paid for whatever he had to pay for, also allowing a wristband to be put around it.

His eyes scanned the people who were already inside, biting his lip as he moved to get through the crowding space. And then, finally, he spotted Thanos sitting there, drinking.

All of a sudden, the feeling that Thanks should know about this kid completely fucking vanished. It was as if his feet were rooted to the spot just by the familiar sight of that purple hair— what was he thinking? It had been months ever since they saw each other, why would Thanos want anything to do with him?

His gaze practically burned the back of Thanos' head, and yet, Nam-gyu couldn't look away, hell he could barely move.

So, rather than just standing there when he finally came back to it, he decided to maybe just drop it. Turning around quickly, Nam-gyu rushed out of there as quickly as he possibly could, not looking back.

With his breath ragged, Nam-gyu barely looked at whatever was going on in front of him, by accident, bumping into someone and causing them to spill their drink. "Man, are you fucking kidding me?! What is wrong with you?!" The guy asked, and Nam-gyu snapped out of it, scrunching his nose in disgust at the smell of the strong drink.

Normally, he'd be used to these kind of smells, but maybe things really do change when you're pregnant. A snort left his lips without him really being able to stop it. "Bitch, who do you think you are to talk to me like that?" Well, maybe his hormones did make it a bit harder to control his temper.

Maybe it was because of how used he was to fighting people, but Nam-gyu completely forgot that things like this could harm the baby. Instead, just focusing on the moment. "You fucking spilled my drink and you expect me to not be pissed?!" The guy yelled through the loud booming music, and hell if it didn't piss Nam-gyu off.

In matter of seconds they were onto each other, kicking, throwing punches, and by that point the people around began forming a circle just to watch what was going on. Some were recording, others were just egging them both on.

Nam-gyu ended up with a split lip and a bleeding nose, but he still had the advantage. Swapping their positions until he was on top of the man, his knuckles making contact with his face fiercely and unwavering, it felt strangely good.

It felt so fucking good to let everything he has been feeling out, so good to finally express his emotions through fights— he would have kept it up longer, in his opinion. But the second he heard a very familiar "Nam-su!" He immediately stopped.

He let go of the shirt he was holding, a fistful in his hands as the guy collapsed back with a bloody face. Nam-gyu cursed himself mentally, of course a fight would bring this idiot's attention considering how chaotic he is.

"My boy Nam-su! Is that you?!" Thanos said cheerfully, but before the other man even managed to do anything, Nam-gyu began running away from the scene.

That of course confused Thanos, did Nam-gyu not want to be his friend anymore? Did the money make him forget about their moments together?

It had been so long.. so after a few seconds of thinking, Thanos decided to take the shot of running after Nam-gyu.

Running out of the club without thinking twice, Thanos looked to both sides to where Nam-gyu could possibly have gone to, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he began asking a few people passing by.

"Have you seen a man a bit shorter than me? With a bob and running as fast as he can?" Was what he asked around five people when he managed to catch their attention. Without much luck, Thanos sighed, running a hand through his hair. Did Nam-gyu forget about him or he just didn't want to talk to him?

And yet, as he was about to give up, he felt a hand tap his shoulder, meeting the face of a young woman. "Hi.. I think the person you're looking for went in there."

Thanos nodded, a smile suddenly sprouting in his face as he thanked her, immediately rushing inside what looked like a library. Smart idea, libraries were normally big.

He stepped into the library and took a look around before he actually began walking around, he guessed he might just be unlucky considering he couldn't spot Nam-gyu's familiar face anywhere.

Maybe he might as well leave the other alone if he really had been avoiding him like the plague? It was as if nothing ever happened between them.. and it kind of stung.

And then, by that point he just decided to take a walk through sections, chrck out a few books. Thanos wasn't really one for books, so maybe this could be somewhat of a new experience.

And just like that, he began plucking a few books from a couple of shelves. Carding through the pages and reading the story summary. On a specific book he pulled, though, he was met with all too familiar eyes across that bookshelf.

"My boy! Nam-su! It's really you?!" Well, wasn't that great. Maybe the universe just really wanted them to meet up again, didn't it?

Nam-gyu didn't really have somewhere to run, so he just stood there with his stomach churning as he heard Thanos' quick footsteps padding against the floor towards him, shit. "Nam-su, my boy!" Thanos said as he threw his arms around Nam-gyu before pulling back to hold him by the shoulders. "I missed you so much, bro! How have you been?" He said with a bright smile. 

Normally, Nam-gyu loved that smile but this was a whole different occasion.. he swallowed hard, not replying. "Why have you been avoiding me? Do you not wanna be seen with me anymore? Shit, do you not like me because of the drugs anymore? Is it because I don't give them to you anymore or have the—"

Nam-gyu felt his head throb, his throat tightening as he remembered why he hasn't been talking to Thanos and avoiding him. Maybe it was how his hormones were all over the place but he really, really felt like crying. And when Thanos mentioned not wanting to be seen with him anymore and all the drugs they'd take inside that place— it just broke.

He felt those tears come up his throat, choking him alive as he tried to speak. Even as he did, his voice was cracking as if he was about to have a whole breakdown. "I—" he choked out, feeling something warm and wet slide down his cheek, biting his lip, he ducked his head down with a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." He finally managed out, feeling half of the weight come off his shoulders.

Thanos in the other hand, stood frozen. He stared at Nam-gyu and then he looked mad— for a second Nam-gyu would think Thanos was going to lash out. "Wait, you're pregnant? Why you cryin'? Did the asshole abandon you or something? You can abort it, right?" Thanos said with a angry gleam in his eye, it was the first time Nam-gyu saw him like that. "I swear if I see him around—"

"Thanos, it's yours." And Thanos' world fell, Nam-gyu was pregnant and.. it was his? He stopped speaking, mouth agape as he stared at Nam-gyu's tear streaked face. "Holy shit." He said, unsure of whether to laugh or cry. "I'm a dad?"

Nam-gyu nodded, sniffling. Okay, Thanos didn't take it that hardly. "Wait, if you're keeping it— I'm a dad?" He said again, nearly not believing the sheer insanity of it all. 

Nam-gyu nodded, letting out a relieved chuckle. His chest wasn't as heavy, even if he was crying, it wasn't out of anxiety or fear anymore. "I'm keeping it, yeah." He nodded, and Thanos let out a loud cheer, catching the attention of some people.. and the librarian. "Hey, keep the noise down. You're in a library." She scolded sternly.

"Can't you see we're having a moment here?" Thanos said, a tad annoyed the moment got interrupted. "Well, then you can both enjoy your moment outside."

They did get kicked out in the end, after all. But even then, he was practically beaming. Once they got outside and walked towards an empty park, both too lazy to walk towards their houses, they sat down.

Well, at least Nam-gyu did. Thanos was right on his knees in front of him, which confused Nam-gyu, because why wouldn't he sit down next to him?

But then, Thanos pushed his thighs apart and leaned his ear into his belly, even though it was barely really prominent, he insisted on doing it. The moment felt rather peaceful, quiet and silent until Nam-gyu spoke up. "I thought you'd be upset, that's why I avoided you." And Thanos scoffed, shaking his head. "I wasn't lying when I said I loved you back in the games, Nam-gyu." And Nam-gyu swore his heart skipped a beat.

"You're such a sap."

"You love me, though." Thanos gave Nam-gyu that stupid smirk of his, but nevertheless, Nam-gyu nodded. "Yeah, yes I do." He paused, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. "And so does this kid, I guess."

Maybe this was something Nam-gyu wouldn't get now, why it happened and why him, but maybe.. someday he would get it. He wasn't alone with this baby anymore now, and that was enough for the moment.

Everything else could simply be figured out later.

-

IM POSTING THIS AND RUNNING AWAY 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[asirensrage]

Hindsight (Rewrite) - Haitani Ran x Reader

Title: Hindsight (the rewrite)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Haitani Ran x Undescribed!Female Reader (side of Takeomi x OC)

Warnings: Dark!Fic. Sex. Oral sex. Dubcon in terms of forced relationships. Obsession. Swearing. Manipulation. Mention of illegal activities and threats. Mention of proposals and pregnancy. Being used as collateral. Unbeta’d.

Word count: ~3800

Summary: You were always going to end up here. She was never going to be allowed to leave and you were just lucky that he saw you as more than just collateral. Based on the prompt: “It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re mine. You always have been.”

Notes: My friend read the original and offered suggestions, including actually writing the sex scene. I couldn't decide if I wanted to just edit the post with the original version or delete it completely. It was recommended just to make a new post. If you've read the original, a fair bit of this will be familiar.

Original notes: The idea of being used as collateral for someone else, especially to keep them in a relationship, has been in my mind for a while and I wanted to write a oneshot for Ran. So put them together and this is how it turned out. It’s a bit sad when you actually think about it…so be warned.

Heed the warnings!

You can’t help but wonder if your sister looks at the events that have led you both here and regrets it. After all, the only reason you ended up here was because of her. You were the good one. You were trying to do things right but it didn’t matter. She was your sister and no matter where she went, you ended up following. 

An arm lands on your shoulders, pulling you in against a chest. You feel his lips press against your hair. “Not hiding from me, are you?”

You force yourself to try to relax, even as you wrap your arms around your waist. You’re not used to the dress you’re wearing and despite the warmth of him, you’re still cold. “Just getting some air,” you finally say. 

“Come. Takeomi’s here.”

You look at him at that. With Takeomi came your sister. How long has it been since you’ve seen each other? She tried to escape the last time, tried to plan a distraction to get you as far away from Bonten as possible. It didn’t work. You don’t know what happened except that her punishment was more severe than yours. The two of you had been barred from seeing each other for weeks. 

“See? I can be nice,” he says, turning you back and leading you into the building. 

“I know.” You say it because that’s what he wants to hear. 

The party is still going strong when you go inside. Thankfully it’s not one of the clubs he likes to drag you to. Instead, you’re playing arm candy as he charms some of the important people of Japan who are already neck-deep involved with Bonten. Most of them made that choice freely. It makes you a little sick if you think about it. Your gaze slides over the crowd until you see the one person you’re searching for. 

“Can I go see her?” you ask. 

He doesn’t say yes but he does wrap his arm around your waist and takes you toward them. When you get close, you can see her properly for the first time in months. Yua looks terrible but the only reason you can tell is because you know her so well. Her makeup is perfect and the dress fits her like a glove, but she’s a little thinner than she used to be and you can see how her eyes are less vibrant. Takeomi has an arm wrapped around her, his other hand holds a cigarette and drink. It looks casual and flirty but you know that it’s a chain. A sign of ownership as clear as the necklace you wear. 

Takeomi had fallen for your sister when you were young, promised that he’d take care of her, of both of you, and then never let her go. As much as she tried to keep you a secret, you found yourself dragged in front of the Executives to officially meet them. Yua couldn’t meet your eyes that night and Ran hadn’t left you alone since. 

Your heart clenches at the way your sister looks to Takeomi for permission and you move forward before she can ask him. You couldn’t bear to hear it. Ran lets you out of his grasp and you hug her tightly. She clutches you back just as hard. 

“You okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

You let go, stepping back into Ran’s embrace and leaning against him. A small price for the favour he’s granted you. He holds you as tightly as Takeomi holds her. 

“Didn’t think you were coming,” Ran says, smiling at Takeomi. “Didn’t you say these things weren’t your scene?”

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” the other man answers. “Especially since your brother is otherwise…occupied.” He glances at you. “We have news for you too.”

“Me?” You blink and look between him and your sister. She straightens and smiles. It doesn’t look forced, reminding you of what she was like when they were first together. Before she found out how deeply involved he was. Before she was forced to introduce you to them all. 

Yua reaches out and touches your hand. “Not here. We’ll plan something soon, okay? Get together just the…four of us. Then we can talk, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree. There’s no new ring on her finger so it can’t be that. Besides, you’re the only one left in the family and Takeomi seems old-fashioned enough to ask for the family’s blessing before he proposes. You hope. Not that saying no would make any difference. 

“Come on, darling,” Ran says, pulling you away. “Let’s continue our rounds.” 

When you get home, you’re exhausted. Your heart aches. Mingling with people who praise Bonten, as if they don’t know half the shit these men have their hands in, wears you down. It’s partly why you hate going to them. The other half is having to play up being Ran’s loving partner. At least at home, you don’t have to pretend. 

You go through the motions, placing your heels in your shoe closet, removing your jewelry and attempting to undo the zipper on your dress before giving in and searching for him. Ran is in the bathroom, already running the bath and undressing himself. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and despite knowing why you’ve come to him, he waits until you ask. 

“Can you get my zipper? Please?” 

His reflection smirks before he moves behind you. You grab your hair, pulling it out of the way. His fingers brush along the collar before he holds one edge and slowly pulls down the zipper. Fingers trail softly along your spine before he leans down and kisses your neck. “You were so good tonight,” he murmurs. “So beautiful. You know how many of those men wanted to take you home? To fuck you?” 

“No,” you say softly. His words are nothing new. He loves being the center of attention and having other people’s jealousy just adds to it. That’s why he dresses you in the most fashionable clothes he can buy. He thinks you’re sexy and wants everyone else to see it too. 

“And only I get that honour.” He tilts your head back so he can kiss you. You lean into it, opening your mouth so he can deepen it like you know he wants. “Come on,” he says when he finally breaks it. “The water is just the way you like it.” 

He helps you out of your clothes and motions you to the bath. It’s hot, but just as hot as Ran can stand. It’s not enough to burn him out of your skin. You sink into it, closing your eyes as you lean back. You can hear the soft sounds of Ran undressing, his clothes hitting the floor before he picks them up and folds them. The two of you are the same in that way, taking care of the things you have because you know what it means to not have any of them. 

“You gonna give me some space?” he teases and you open your eyes, moving forward automatically. The water splashes as he moves in behind you. It takes some positioning before the two of you are comfortable, but the bathtub is large enough to fit both of you. He made sure of it once you told him how much you prefer them. 

Ran moves you to lean back against him. You’re warm and comfortable and tired. His fingers follow maps against your skin that only he knows. You close your eyes and try to relax, but your mind replays the image of your sister. 

He kisses your neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“My sister. Just wondering what they want to talk about.”

“Maybe they’ll get married.”

You try to look at him. “You think so?”

“That or he finally knocked her up.” 

You freeze. A child would be permanent. You know Yua. There’d be no leaving with that. Not that either of you were ever getting away from these men. They had a chokehold on both of you. 

“You like that idea?” He murmurs against your skin. “Want one of our own?” 

“I–” you swallow tightly. “I don’t know. I never thought of kids.” It’s a lie. You don’t want one. You don’t want his. “Have you?”

His hand moves to splay his fingers across your stomach. “You’d look fucking hot pregnant.” It’s not an answer. “But then, you’ve always looked hot.”

You lean back against him. “You think we’re going to be together forever?” you ask softly. 

“Yes,” he answers with complete self-assuredness. He stills though when you don’t answer. “What? You don’t agree?” There’s a tension in his tone that warns you. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re mine. You always have been.” The words come so easily, like he doesn’t condemn you every time he says it. 

“Always?” You can’t help but ask. You remember meeting the Executives and the way Yua whispered to you to stay quiet and not noticeable. She said to let her do the talking. She was going to introduce you and then you’d leave and she’d take you out to lunch in payment. 

You already knew Takeomi from her dating him. You liked him well enough, he occasionally took both of you out and made his own younger sister join so you’d have someone near your age to talk to when Yua brought you over. 

He introduced you to his coworkers. They weren’t that much older than you at the time, mid-twenties to your early twenties, but Ran flirted with you the moment Yua was distracted. You tried to keep your promise, to stay silent and uninteresting, but he flustered you and you both knew it. You couldn’t help but wonder if Yua was overreacting about it with they way they all spoke to you and by the time you left, it was too late. Nothing your sister could do protected you from his interest. You were so fucking stupid. 

“I knew you before we met,” he says. “Takeomi was always happy to go home to his long-term girlfriend and one day, he showed us pictures of some outing he took you both on when you were younger. Before Bonten was a thing. You were so cute,” he reaches up and pinches your cheek, laughing when you swat him away. “When he said your sister was thinking of leaving him, adamant to keep you out of it, well…we were all interested. I just got there first.” 

You frown at that. It’s likely not the complete truth. He never tells you the complete truth, but there’s enough in it for you to decipher. Takeomi was the one who gave you up. Likely in an effort to control Yua, especially since she had admitted she was considering breaking things off. It was getting too dangerous. But once Ran had you in his sights, you got swept into their current and there was no escape for the two of you. There never would be. 

“Let’s wash up and get to bed. Unless there’s an emergency, I don’t have to go in tomorrow. You get me all to yourself,” he teases. 

“Just what I wanted.” If he hears the sarcasm in your voice, he ignores it. You reach for the soap and hand it back to him.

Despite all his flamboyance and desire for fame, the one thing you know you can appreciate about Ran is his desire to sleep. He keeps your bed as comfortable as possible, including the highest quality sheets he can find. It’s tempting to sink into it, but once you dry off, you sit on the edge of the bed and grab the lotion. Ran takes it from you and kneels. You watch as he rests one of your feet on his leg and lathers the cream on. He does it carefully, even though you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. He takes his time to make sure you're taken care of. It would be sweet if you had come into this relationship more naturally, if you didn’t know that there was always going to be the threat hanging above your head, waiting for the final wrong move you make. 

You don’t move as he sets the cream aside. You know that look in his eyes, the way his pupils are starting to get blown out as his hands slide up your thighs. He leans forward, kissing you gently before tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He grins when he hears you whimper.

“You were so good tonight,” he says. You know that he means the way you interacted with your sister, the way you came back to him over and over. Violet eyes meet yours and your breath hitches at the promise in his next words. “Think you deserve a reward.” 

“Aren’t you tired?” you ask just as softly, trying to dissuade him from what you know he’s trying to do. “It’s been a long night.”

His lips move to your neck, still too soft for your liking. He’s trying to tease you, to build up the tension and praise you for something you only do out of fear. It’s so fucked up but it doesn’t stop you from letting him push you back to lay on the bed. 

“Not long enough,” he murmurs. 

“Ran.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. One of his hands takes yours, lacing your fingers together as he presses it down against the bed. He uses his other one to shift your thighs open wider so he can rest between them. “You know you’re mine, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. It’s the only thing you know he wants to hear. “Only yours.” You tie yourself tighter to him every time you say it but you’re starting to feel like you deserve it. Another nail in your coffin.

He kisses you again, this time harder, slightly more desperate and demanding. “So fucking good,” he mutters. 

You’re not sure if it’s relief or regret that settles in your stomach. He’s being kind, doting on you because you came back to him and didn’t make a scene at the event. The way your heart flutters at the praise makes you a bit sick. He’s always been good at making you focus on him, promising that no one else could take care of you like he can. 

His lips trail down your chest, leaving wet kisses until he reaches your breasts and takes a nipple in his mouth. Heat flares in your stomach. You arch into him without thinking, chasing the sparks of pleasure that race down your spine as he sucks a mark into the side of it. His free hand, the one not still laced with your fingers, squeezes your other breast. You close your eyes, wanting to lose yourself in the feeling. The weight of him is oddly comforting and familiar, even as you catch traces of smoke and cologne that have settled in his unwashed hair. 

“Ran, please…” He likes it when you beg. He’s told you over and over. The same way he loves hearing his name on your lips. 

“Hmm?” He breaks away from leaving marks on your skin to look at you. “Begging me so prettily already?” He smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. “You already wet for me, darling?” He shifts slightly, moving so he can place one hand up between your legs and curl his fingers in. “You are!” He grins at that. “You know exactly who you belong to, don’t you?”

You don’t even hesitate in answering. If you give him what he wants, he’ll give you more. You can escape into the pleasure he brings, if only for a moment. “You.” 

He doesn’t respond. He moves, shifting your legs wider before he kneels before you and buries his head between your thighs. He finally lets go of your hand, yanking you closer to him as his tongue licks its way in. Ran knows exactly how to make you crumble, how to beg for a release only he’ll give. It’s not long before he’s demanding you keep your eyes on him, while he brings you to the brink of your orgasm before pulling back just enough to stop you from reaching it. He does it again and again until you feel like you’re going to cry. 

“Please, Ran. Please, please please don’t stop.” You shouldn’t want him at all and you know you’re just going to feel awful after, but you’re breathless and begging and it somehow makes it ten times better and a thousand times worse. You don’t even fucking care. Not when you’re so close. 

“You want to cum, pretty?” 

“Yes!”

“Tell me what I want to hear.” He’s demanded it every time since you got caught trying to run, since your sister attempted to steal you back from him. Ran likes you like this, under him and remembering exactly where he thinks you belong. He likes to hold you on the brink until you swear that you’re his, only his, and you’ll never leave. Right now, you don’t care. 

“I’m yours! Only yours!” 

He pulls away, resting his head on your thigh as he looks up at you. His purple eyes are dark with arousal and the promises you’re sprouting. “Only mine?”

“Yes!”

“You ever gonna leave?”

“No! Never,” you tell him. “Never again!”

“Promise?” he sounds like he’s teasing you. He turns his head and nips at the skin of your leg. 

“I swear!” 

“Then cum.” He uses his fingers, curling them up and leaning forward to flick his tongue against your clit. Your legs and stomach clench as you try not to scream, lost in the feeling of him as he forces you headfirst into the orgasm he’s been denying you. 

He pulls back to let you breathe, but it doesn’t last long. He moves so he’s leaning over you again, grinning at your blissed-out expression as he smoothes back any hair that clings to the sweat on your face. “See? I can be nice,” he repeats his words from earlier, driving in the reminder of why he’s doing this tonight. “Love seeing you like this.” 

You reach for the back of his neck and pull him down into a kiss before he can tell you that he loves you. He returns it enthusiastically, before helping you adjust yourself further back on the bed. His kisses are possessive and demanding and enough to remind you that he’s not unaffected. You like hearing him swear when he presses himself into you, burying his head in your neck and telling you how good you feel, that you’re “fucking made for me, aren’t ya?” 

It doesn’t take long before you both break. His grip tightens as he groans and you hold him closer, trying to breathe to come down from the endorphin high. You ignore the way he presses his forehead against yours, how he exhales into your mouth before kissing you again. It’s softer this time, calmer, taking his time to make you feel him. Remind you how he convinced you to let him this close the first time. 

You can forget everything when he touches you like this, especially the weight of the chain he holds around your neck. It never seems that bad when you are panting for breath, when you feel like he is breaking at your touch and the two of you are just lost in each other for that moment. 

Time stops for that instant before regret curdles in your stomach at the way you’ve given in to him. Again. 

“Can you move?” you ask softly. “You’re kinda heavy.” 

“Calling me fat?” he teases, kissing you quickly again before he pulls out and away from you. You wince at the loss of him, at the way you feel empty now. He helps you stand before leading you back to the bathroom so you can both clean up. “Should have fucked you before the bath,” he muses. He looks tired now, slouching against the sink as he waits for you to finish. “Or in the bath.”

“Think of the mess,” you point out. Neither of you would want to clean up the water you know would spill on the floor.

“That’s true.” He watches you with half-lidded eyes and a pleased look on his face. He’s won again. You both know it. He moves behind you, pressing his chest against your back before leaning down slightly and curling a hand around your throat. You pause from washing your hands and meet his eyes in the mirror. He squeezes slightly, just another reminder that he holds you, before letting go and kissing the side of your neck 

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

You crawl into bed on your side and once you’re both settled, he pulls you into him, curling around you so that he can hold you. Ran inhales softly, murmuring how good you smell before he buries his face in your neck. He seems to fall asleep instantly but you know from previous experience that the moment you try to get out of bed, he’ll wake up. He always does. 

You can feel sleep pulling on you, dragging you down, but reality creeps back into your thoughts. Shame settles with every movement that Ran makes trying to get closer to you. You know you shouldn’t regret it, that you have little choice when it comes to the man, but it’s so easy to give in. Even when you know you shouldn’t. That every time you do, he’s chipping away at your resistance, that one day you’ll stop needing to choose your reactions carefully because the ones that please him will come naturally. You’ll be twisted to be what he wants. 

Maybe it would be easier that way. Maybe that’s what’s happening to your sister…and then you’d be allowed to see her again. Properly. Without chaperones who are half there to protect you and half there to report on everything the two of you do. Maybe the threat of either one of you being killed or punished because of the other wouldn’t matter. 

The realization settles in you. If either of you had known that this was what your future held, Yua would have never accepted that date with Takeomi. Just to keep you out of it. After all, that was the problem when you got involved with gangs. It was never just you. You get in deep enough and it takes everything you love with you. If only to hold it against you. 

But it doesn’t matter. You can’t change the past. Even if you could rewrite history, you know these men. It would still play out exactly how they wanted it to. No matter what either of you tried. Every path she’d take would have ended up here and you were always going to follow. They’d make sure of it. You are always going to be lost in their promises, in his touch, in the reminder that you’ve always been his, whether or not you’ve known. 

You let yourself sink into Ran’s warmth and the sound of his breathing, and fall asleep in his arms, cradled between your regrets and the man who claims you.

gen taglist: @raith-way @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Alright so the post about the idea of Delta being severely depressed and attempting su*cide by sneaking into a battle between the Stars and Nightmare, and tries to kill Nightmare by giving it his Whole Ass Everything has been living in my head rent free and makes me ask two questions.

1. If the "good ending" happened and everyone lived, how would Color and Epic react to Delta's attempt? (Especially knowing that Beta would have had to allow the body to die as well, meaning that the poor kid was ok with death?) How could they (Color and Epic) possibly attempt to cope with the fact that their best friend(s) was going to commit suicide and didn't want to tell anyone because they didn't want to be any more of a burden than they had to be, in their (Delta/Beta's) view?

2. If the "bad ending" happened, how would they react to his death?

(I was also thinking about how Zorox would be affected but then I decided it was too sad to put a dog through that lmao, so we're gonna leave him out of this one)

Zorox paws at delta’s bedroom door. sleeps in front of the door. will sleep on the bed if anyone opens the door, drags delta and beta’s old clothes out of the drawers and closet and whimpers when anyone tries to take them back (likely to clean them.) he whines all night at the closed door of delta’s workshop/garage.

whenever taken to their gravesites he just slumps down on the ground nearby and whines like hes been stabbed. He barks and panics whenever epic and color are gone too long and probably develops separation anxiety. he probably keeps trying to constantly linger around color and do specific things he only did for delta and beta (like lying on their lap or chest for deep pressure) and color suspects its because of the bravery soul he absorbed.

dogs cats and animals in general are said to be sensitive to the supernatural and the like. perhaps he sense the bits of colors bravery soul and its familiar.

can see a scene where zorox can sense epics pain and grief despite how epics constantly doing everything to pretend that hes not in as much pain as he is. hes constantly making his jokes and memes and trying to focus on avoiding the topic and changing the subject and avoiding sleep more often than not and forgetting to eat.

and zorox keeps doing his old alerts that he used to do for beta and delta for epic and color now and he keeps pushing and pushing epic to eat or sit or drink and color may be too simply because he shifted gears into full caretaker mode and is trying to avoid feeling the anguish—both his and epics—that he can feel building in his chest.

and I don’t maybe there’s a scene like from mockingjay, the one with Katniss and buttercup. This scene. with zorox and either color or epic.

as for if delta and beta survived (especially if they’re injured) I feel like colors gonna immediately turn on that therapist/mother henning instinct. i feel like hed be treating their injuries and hed have tears in his eye because the thought of how much pain they must’ve been in to make that decision, how he “didn’t notice,” is fucking painful.

and i feel like beta and delta are going to feel so guilty and ashamed and constantly avoiding looking color in the eye. (honestly i like to think that colors just the type of person no one really likes making or watching or listening to him cry (except for nightmare) especially delta and epic and beta.

especially not in this situation, where he could’ve lost two more friends to the likes of nightmare. fighting and struggling to save and protect killer from him was traumatic and stressful on its own. the thought of losing anyone else to nightmare is terrifying and makes him so angry.)

i feel like delta and beta might have an easier time meeting epics eye, if only because he has that ability to make people laugh. and because they dont have the added feeling of guilt of having made him cry (they did epic just knows how to hide it).

epic would probably try to hide any pain from this under a joke and a meme, expressing his worry and concern and care of course.

but i feel like he wouldn’t allow the two to see how deeply it effected him and colors probably the one who’s aware of it and holds him whenever he allows himself a cry or wants to have a serious talk about it. (please feel free to chime in and add more onto this i feel like my brain stuttered to a stop near the end 🙏)

(side note but do yall think killer would call color pretty and beautiful whenever he cries. and like when hes wiping away colors tears and probably nuzzles or kisses his cheeks. like hes a sadistic little freak would he find colors crying pretty in certain situations.)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Catfish and Dog Cemeteries

Chapter Nine of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: The Annual Pigeon Creek Catfish Festival is always your favorite event of the summer. Being back here after seven years feels different. It should be a consolation that you're only going to be in Pigeon Creek for a few days more. But instead, another encounter with an old friend makes you question everything you thought you knew about your soon-to-be ex-husband. A chance encounter with the man himself makes you question everything else in your life, too.

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: discussions of grief, discussions of miscarriage, discussions of animal death

Word Count: 2665

A/N: This chapter is one of the saddest in this entire fic. I know, I know. It's awfully hypocritical of me to say that when most of Sweet Home Alabama (the movie) is really really sad. This is the chapter I sobbed while writing. It's also the first time Jake and Linley address the pain they have put each other through. I hope you love it!

Thanks to the gorgeous @desert-fern for reading over this chapter and smacking my imposter syndrome demon when it refused to give up.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

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Pigeon Creek's Catfish Festival is busier than you've ever seen it when you pull up and park your rental car on Main Street the next day. The festival used to be your favorite day of the summer, the one day during summer vacation when you could run free and eat as much candy and fried things as you wanted. You walk through the crowd on autopilot, walking down the line at the buffet until your plate is filled with all of the things you never actually let yourself eat anymore, and slip a twenty into the donation jar at the end of the table. The fried fish and steaming french fries had looked so good that you couldn’t stop yourself. 

But as you stand in the grass with your plate in your hand, it reminds you of something else. Nobody in Pigeon Creek likes you very much. Everyone you know is chatting and laughing and enjoying the good food. Yet you’re still the outsider. Like you were before Jake became your best friend like you have been every minute of every day since you left town. Not a single person wants to meet your eyes. A part of you understands why. Jake was the golden boy of the town. Jake is still the town hero. You’re just the girl who threw him away.

Of course, what you don’t expect to see is Dorothy sitting at one of the tables with a baby in her lap. She’s the only person who doesn’t glare at you as you walk up.

“D’you mind if I sit here?” Gone is the confident Linley who took New York by storm. In her place is the four-year-old with a lisp who used to get pushed off of picnic tables because she was too different.

“Sure.” You sit silently, gratefully, smiling at the chubby-cheeked baby in Dorothy’s lap.

“I, um..” You’re captivated by the shocks of tiny dark hair and big eyes and the way the little sweetheart is waving their fists around. “I didn’t know you and Mickey had a baby.”

“Aww, yeah. When you came around the bank the other day, there wasn’t much time for us to catch up now, was there?” She hums to the baby for several long moments before turning all of her attention to you.

It occurs to you at that moment that maybe you were more than a little prejudiced yourself as a kid. You have more fun with Dorothy than you’ve had in years. Getting to eat good food and just be yourself probably helps, too. Every time you see her snuggle her daughter, it feels like your heart breaks a little more. You can’t turn back time or change history. Seeing the baby squeal as a calf licks her hand makes you smile.

“Y’know he went up there?” There’s a secretive smile on Dot’s face as she rescues the baby from having her frock eaten by a goat.

“Who?” You drag your eyes away from the kids playing in front of you and focus back on Dorothy. “Dot, who went up where?” When she just looks at you, the lightbulb goes off in your head. “Jake? When?”

“About a year after you left.” That little tidbit of knowledge hits like a dart hitting a bullseye on a dart board. “He doesn’t know that I know, but Mickey let it slip once.”

“Jake was in New York?” You sound like a stuck record, but you can’t believe that Jake ever went to New York. Jake has always hated the idea of the big city, much preferring the country to the city. 

“He told Mickey he'd never seen anything like it.” Your heart is six feet under the earth.

“He realized straight off…” You’re leaning in despite yourself, some sick sense of curiosity expecting you to know, “That he'd need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world first. He's been tryin' ever since.”

You didn’t think that you were so cruel a few days ago, standing in the middle of that fashion show back in New York. But now? Now, you feel like the worst person on the planet. 

“That's why he kept sending the papers back.” Is the world spinning off of its axis, or is that just you? How is it that you can know someone for most of your life and that they still surprise you every time?

“Yeah, it's funny how things don't work out.” The baby starts fussing in Dot’s arms, and the sweet burble of sound puts a smile on your face.

“It’s funny how they do.” 

You spend the rest of the day hanging out with Dorothy, smiling and laughing like a fool while playing with the baby. But it’s as night falls and the kids all go home to bed that excitement starts to course through your veins. The first twang of the guitar sets your feet tapping. For the first time since you came back to Pigeon Creek, you feel like you’re at home. With good music and even better alcohol in your hands, you finally feel free. 

Of course, what you’re not expecting, even though you totally should be, is Jake and Bob walking up to the small gathering you’ve found yourself in. It’s almost like once Dot approved of you, everyone else did, too. He looks like sin, his worn jeans clinging to his thighs and a soft red flannel clinging to his broad shoulders. His eyes and hair glisten in the soft light, and if you were a younger, less encumbered woman, you would have climbed him like a tree. But as it is, your soul feels heavy, and your left-hand feels even heavier. The worst part isn’t just how you lost the love of your life. It’s in how you’ve lost your best friend, too.

You can’t look at his smiling face, not when it hurts to see him happy when you’ve never been sadder. So, instead, you fixate on the glass your beer is in. It’s crystal clear and gorgeous, and well, it’s glass like you’ve never seen in New York. Is it any wonder that you lift the glass to see if you can see the manufacturer? Of course, just as you lift up the glass, it’s Dot who notices what you’re doing.

“Oh, honey, you…” She giggles, looking at you, “You drink that from the top.”

“I know that, Dot. I’m just lookin’ to see who makes this Deep South Glass. I wonder if you can get it in New York?" You take a sip of your beer and sigh. "It's beautiful."

"D'you hear that, Jake?" There is mischief in Dot's voice. "Lin wants to know where she can find that snooty-faluty glass." Why's she asking Jake, of all people?

"Why ask me?" See that? That's why Jake Seresin was your best friend. He always knew exactly what you were thinking and had the courage to express the thought, too.

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe it's because…" You've only had a few sips of your beer, so you don't miss the glare Jake shoots at Dot. You don't know why he's keeping secrets, but you have a feeling it isn't for a good reason. "You're all spiffed up and all."

"Wait, y'all." You probably look as confused as you feel. "Am I missing something?"

But all of a sudden, the familiar tones of Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd echo across the dance floor. You can count on one hand the number of times you've passed on dancing to this song - and all of them have been when you were in New York. It's a right of passage, a way of life. A part of you is sure every 'Bama baby has been put to bed at night with a crooned-out rendition of this song since it came out. Already, you can feel the beat tapping your toes, but a part of you isn't sure if anyone will ask you to dance. You smile vaguely as Dot marches off to the dance floor, Jake in tow, leaving you standing at the edge of the dance floor yearning.

"Y'know, she says that I've got two left feet, but the truth is she's got no rhythm." You startle just a bit at Mickey's voice, though you smile when you hear the pure love in it for Dot.

"Why don't we show her just how well I can dance, then, Miss Linley?" 

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Garcia." 

You're smiling from ear to ear as Mickey twirls you around on the dance floor. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the beat in every hummingbird thud of your heart. But when you open them again, it feels like the world's standing still. The music is gone. There isn't another person on the dance floor other than Jake and you. He's got his hand on your waist, and your heart's not beating in time anymore. Your palms grow clammy, and your tongue feels like it's swollen in your mouth.

There is something unreadable in Jake's gaze as he twirls you once, twice, and then one final time before applauding for the band and walking away. You spend the rest of the night as far away from Jake as you possibly can. You know where he is; you always have. But it's different going out of your way to avoid him. Everyone's cleared out for the night when you finally see the sign for the dog cemetery.

Bear used to love clear nights like this, and something about it makes you remember him. His little plot is the newest, and it hurts to think of the puppy you bottle-fed lying six feet under the ground when you never even got the chance to tell him you loved him one final time.

"Hi there, boy." Your hands shake as you clear away a couple of twigs ensnared in his grave marker. "Sorry, it took me so long. I would have come sooner if I'd known you were sick."

Sitting here tonight, you don't think you can lie. Not to Bear. "Actually, that's probably not true. I've been pretty selfish lately."

Tears track hot down your cheeks as you remember the dog you loved with all of your heart. "Dogs don't know anything about that, do they, though? You were always like a big old pillow. Like when everything went pear-shaped…" Your voice cracks on the words because pear-shaped is an understatement for how your life splintered. "You never left my side. And then I just left you. I bet you sat there wondering what you'd done wrong."

"I told him it was my fault." You stand up so quickly that you nearly fall over. It's Jake because who else would it be when he's so close that you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his skin?

"Quit bein' so nice." 

"It's the truth." It's not. Not in the slightest. It was your fault. Your body, your mouth. Your fault. But you can't verbalize your words or how sorry you were for everything that you did.

"How come it has to be so complicated?" You sigh the words even as you wipe your tears away.

"What?" Despite his hatred for you, his voice is gentle, a melodic hum over the buzz of a summer night out in the country.

"The truth, life…" Finally, you trace your fingers over Bear's name. "This."

"He was one hell of a good dog, wasn't he?" You can only nod, moving to sit on a stone bench nearby. It's quiet for several moments, just you and Jake staring at the graves.

"You looked like you were having fun out there tonight." It's true, you did have fun. But it wasn't quite as easy as he thought it was to let loose.

"I'm happy in New York, Jake. But then I come down here and…” You gesture around you to all of Pigeon Creek. “This fits, too." Who are you trying to convince? Him? Or yourself?

"Since when does it have to be one or the other? You can have roots and wings, Lin." Not possible, not with your all-or-nothing life.

"Maybe I could just fly south for the winter." As if the Honorable Carole Bradshaw would ever let you do that.

He sits down next to you suddenly, warming the left side of your body as he gets close.

"Look." It takes you a bit to figure out what you're looking for, but when you see it, it makes you feel like a kid again. "There. Do you see 'em?"

"Only you. Lightnin' bugs." There's a childlike wonder on his face. This close, you can feel each exhale and can see the specks of amber floating in the green of his eyes

"You know, I still go out there sometimes. I see those big thunderheads rollin' in. It's like a religion." Of course, he still goes out on the beach in the middle of lightning storms.

But his confession has you spilling one of your own. "I had a dream about it the other night." You watch the lightning bugs track pinpricks of light through the dark night.

"It had me thinking, Lin. You ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't have gotten pregnant?"

Your heart falls to your feet at his words. Please let him regret you, but not that sweet baby. Please, not your sweet baby. Your throat barely pushes out the sound as you whisper, "Jake."

"Just," His eyes are pleading, and the sight of the pain in his eyes blanks all the thoughts out of your mind. "Let me get this out before I can't. I thought that baby would be an adventure."

"And it took me a while to realize that it would have been your only adventure." Yup. The sound you hear despite the blood pounding in your temples is your heart shattering into infinitesimal pieces. "I just guess Mother Nature knew better, huh?"

Your hands make abortive movements in your lap. But you can't reach for him, not with the ring weighing your left hand down. "I was so ashamed, Jake. 'Cause I felt relieved. How selfish am I, huh? I lost our baby, and I felt relieved. I felt relieved. And I couldn't handle that. All of a sudden, I just needed a different life. So I left."   

Your voice is so quiet you're not sure Jake can actually hear you.

"You’ve done really well for yourself. I'm proud of you, Lin." He's so close all you want to do is fall into him. But you can't. You can't.

"I'm just sorry I never danced with you at our weddin'." How does he make your heart feel so full that you're sure it's going to overflow?

"I'm sure this next one's gonna go better for ya." His hands are strong and warm and perfect as they cradle yours. But every press of his hands rubs the ring, Bradley's ring, into your hands. It feels like a brand, the guilt turning into a five-ton weight sitting there. And it's that itchy, heavy feeling that has you yanking your hands from his own. 

"Jake, I can't do this." Who are you trying to convince as you walk away? Like so much of this conversation tonight, you're not really sure.

"I know."

Something about those words has you turning around. It's not a feeling or an expressed desire, but you still stand on your tiptoes and kiss Jake. Just once, you promise your traitorous heart. Just once. But he feels like home and tastes like it and smells like it. The electricity ricocheting through your veins makes you feel so good that you don't break the kiss until Jake does. Your lips are swollen, and you can barely breathe. But Jake? Jake just looks angry.

"Go home." Is it any wonder that you do so with your tail between your legs?

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[gracie7209]

Sin With A Grin - Frankie Morales x f!Reader Oneshot

WC: 12.3k

Summary: You’ve always been on the run. Never having the desire to stay in one place for too long, what you did with your life was up to you and no one else. You didn’t live with regrets and that suited you just fine. But what happens when you meet someone who makes you consider staying?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, reader is/was a stripper, reader used to be a sex worker, smut, angst, sad Frankie, angry Frankie, mental health issues alluded to, but nothing in detail, reader had a rough childhood, childhood trauma though not described in detail, anxiety, brief descriptions of a panic attack, Santi being a little shit, in being a little shit I’m putting dub con, not really, but Frankie does get tied up 🤷🏼‍♀️ alcohol mention, kissing, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV sex (although they discuss beforehand. Be safe y’all), talks of therapy, reader has no physical description, but has a nickname “Len”… No particular reason and doesn’t affect the story in any way. POV changes quite a bit, and there are a few flashbacks throughout… Ummm I think that’s it, but if I forgot anything please let me know!

A/N: So this thing came completely out of no where…. I have 2 WIPs I’ve been working on for over a year and I wrote this in like 2 days 🤷🏼‍♀️ Any mistakes are mine, I looked over it briefly, but it’s not beta’d. I also kind of just went with it in terms of where Reader has been etc. no particular places mentioned aside from the State of Florida and only because I believe it’s where the guys in TF are from…. This is the first full story I’ve ever posted, so I would deeply appreciate any and all feedback. Just be gentle ❤️

“What are you doing???” There’s a slight desperation to his voice, visibly on edge by what he thinks is about to happen…

You continue moving closer, not breaking eye contact with him. Your hands slowly move over your torso, languidly feeling yourself up until you reach the button of your jeans.... you slowly tease your thumbs underneath the waistband… inching that much closer.. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Your hands never stop their descent, and your top button pops open…. The zipper comes down even slower as he takes in your question.

“I, uh…. I’m not…. Why are you, your your…. “

“My what Frankie?”

“Your hands….” He finally chokes out.

“What about my hands?” His eyes are glued to them as you play with your fly, the tiniest peek of your lace panties showing through. You see him swallow, his shoulders straining against the ropes as his own hands desperately try to get out of their current predicament.

As you lean in close, you feel his stuttered breaths against your cheek.. you steal a glance at his face and his eyes are clamped shut, trying to regulate his breathing.

“You know what you’re doing— Why??”

He sounds almost upset, but you can hear the longing in his tone….

“I missed you…..” you take the opportunity to step behind him and place a tiny barely there kiss to the side of his neck. He takes a sharp inhale with slow stuttering breaths as you pull away to move in front of him again. You stand back, just taking him in and he huffs an annoyed breath…

“Oh, don’t be that way Francisco. We had fun didn’t we?” The tone in your voice is almost taunting. You’re not sure why your first instinct is to bait him… YOU dragged him here.. YOU were trying to make amends, yet you couldn’t help it..

Frankie keeps his head down, but looks up to you through his shaggy bangs..

“Is that what you’re calling it then? Fun? It’s been two years….. “ He drops his head, letting it hang between his shoulders in defeat.

You take pity on him, knowing that you were the one at fault and reminding yourself that this was to be expected. You cautiously move forward and begin stroking your fingers through his hair. Frankie tenses immediately at the contact, but makes no move to stop you. Your fingers reach the back of his neck and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the warmth radiating from him. The easy familiarity of just being in his presence making your heart swim, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to do in two years.

It had been two years. You had justified the gap initially by making yourself believe that Frankie should have seen it coming. That you were just passing through. They were flimsy excuses, but this had never happened to you before… You just wanted to make it right. You weren’t good at this, but you were going to try.

“I know. It’s been a long time — I….”

You’re shaken by the rush of emotion that runs its way through you. The only thing that had ever made you feel regret in your life was sitting right in front of you. The stripping paid what little bills you had and afforded your interests. And it was just easier to move on, jump from place to place rather than set down roots. No place had ever actually felt like home and you were content with the way things were. Until Frankie… It’s the reason you’re here now. You tell yourself to keep it together…. The lies that would generally roll off your tongue with ease weren’t welcome, but old habits were hard to break. Even though this was Frankie, the easy way out was right there…

Frankie was a good person. And for him, what the two of you had, was real. You had eventually come to the realization that it had also been real for you— too real. Which is why you hadn’t come back until now.

You weren’t lying when you said you missed him.

Your hand lightly grabs for Frankie’s chin, pulling his face up to look at you. His warm eyes full of all the pain that the last two years had caused him when you up and left without a word.

“I — I’m sorry. Frankie. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you… I”

“No—“

Frankie cuts you off…

“I thought…” he shakes his head.

“I guess I didn’t know what to think. I kept running it through my head over and over. What happened? What did I do wrong? For so long I just didn't know.”

Frankie looks down to his boots, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

“Ha,” Frankie gives an annoyed chuckle.

“You know I actually waited? I had hoped, like some love sick dumbass, that you would come back.” He looks to you then, with a wild glare that tells you he’s fucking pissed.

“And then you fucking show up out of the goddamn blue after two years… because you missed me?? Tied me to a fucking chair because I wouldn’t give you the time of day?”

“You wouldn’t have talked to me otherwise.”

“That’s the point sweetheart!”

You had never heard Frankie yell before, at least not in any way directed at you. His voice was loud, causing you to back away slightly, but you could hear the hurt laced in his tone.

“You don’t just get to do whatever the hell you want at someone else’s expense… I’ve spent enough time feeling sorry for myself over you.”

His words hit you in the gut, but you knew that this wasn’t going to be as simple as reuniting with a lost love, if you could even call it that. You never thought yourself capable of actually loving someone. You had enjoyed your time with Frankie on every level and when it was time for you to get on your way, you hesitated. The fact that you had considered staying scared you, so instead of just leaving, you ran, without a word —And now? You had made a lot of mistakes in your life, but you tended to live with a “no regrets” mentality, rather utilizing your mistakes as lessons to build on. But you did have one regret. One you were trying, as best you could anyway, to recompense.

You literally have him tied to a chair because your prior attempts at civility were made in vain. You couldn’t blame him for being angry though… you expected the anger, thought you were ready for it. What you hadn’t bet on was how emotional you would feel. You had clearly done a number on him, that pain still sitting just beneath the surface. Which is what drove you to close the distance between the two of you, grabbing the sides of his face and putting everything you had into the press of your lips against his…

—

Frankie’s breath is lodged in his throat…. He missed this. Missed you. He hated you. Or, he thought he had. But the second your mouth found his, he was back to before. Back to when he could taste you any time he wanted, rather than holding onto only as much as his memory could serve him… He needs more. Your scent is everywhere and he needs to taste you. His earlier anger seems to completely dissipate as he begs for entry into your mouth with his tongue.

He parts his lips and in a way that is surprisingly soft, he laps at the seam of your mouth…. You open almost immediately, letting him in. Letting his mouth devour yours as you completely submit to him.. well almost—

His greedy kiss is only amplified when you decide to pull his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” Frankie pants… “untie me.” He quickly mumbles between kisses… his lips tracing every inch of skin within reach.

“What?” You whisper, your own breathing picking up as his kisses become almost frantic..

“I said,” he presses his forehead to yours so he knows you can hear him, “untie me —“

You’re halfway straddling him on the chair… your chest brushing up against him, your arms encircling his head.

“Please, Querida. Let me touch you—“

You don’t break away from him, instead you reach behind his back and blindly feel for the ropes… the knots having been made loose by his earlier attempts at freeing himself…

As soon as his hands are free, Frankie pushes up, not breaking your kiss, and hauls you into his arms as he backs you against the wall…

You were still so small… he was towering over you, one hand against the wall, and one at your waist. He wraps your legs around him, but holds you firmly in place.

“Why did you leave?” — It comes out amongst the kisses he’s currently littering across your neck and chest.. The question not affecting his intent in the slightest….

“Not right now, please…” You huff out quickly, your mind being completely clouded by Frankie and his massive shoulders. “Fuck, Francisco I missed you…..”

“I missed you too….” Frankie’s reply comes out quick as his hand makes its way up your side to gently grab your breast… his thumb lightly rubbing over the peak.

His mouth is still on your neck, your chest, your lips, he’s everywhere and it’s completely overwhelming and simultaneously not enough as you unconsciously grind against his jeans.

“Answer the question bonita…..” His voice is rough, but quiet…. There’s an edge to it that you can’t identify. He doesn’t sound angry, but he doesn’t sound altogether pleased either..

You knew by coming back here that you would have to answer these questions…

You thought you had prepared yourself, but you were very wrong. His overwhelming presence was making it hard to think, let alone the fact that he was able to pull your shirt down enough to envelop your nipple in his warm mouth. His tongue teasing circles around the peak, making you clench on nothing as you continued to grind into him.

“Answer me,” He growls against your sensitive chest.. “You owe me that.”

Your hands are in his hair, holding him to you. He doesn't stop his assault on your nipple.. his words, again, not getting in the way of him taking what he wants.

“Please,” he whispers against your chest. You can hear in his voice the turmoil behind the question. You’d give him anything right now.

“I was scared. I… I cared about you too much. I couldn’t stay.”

That gets him.

He leans back slightly… still holding you up, but no longer using his mouth.

“What do you mean? You cared too much? And that’s why you couldn’t stay?”

“Frankie…..” He slowly releases you from around his waist and you stand on wobbly legs…

“We need to talk.”

You’re leaning against the wall for support as he stands back a bit. Hands on his hips, lips swollen and red from his earlier assault. You’re sure you look much the same.

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I came here to try to make things right with you. I don’t even know if that’s possible, but the more time went on, I realized I couldn’t stay away. I had to make sure you understood. Everything.”

“Ok….. Let’s talk then. I had tried to make peace with the fact that you weren’t who I thought you were. I tried to move on. But you being here now? What don’t I know? Please….”

He steps forward. He’s back in your space and you want nothing more than to pull him into you. But instead you say nothing. You were afraid. Afraid of his rejection if he couldn’t get over your past and the hurt you caused. The tingly sensation still present in your lips tells you that the latter at the very least was still possible.

He chuckles, “I tried to imagine what seeing you again would be like. I’d thought about all the ways I could possibly make you feel an ounce of the pain you left me in. I tried to hate you…. “

Frankie’s gaze is sad, with just a hint of hunger etched around his eyes…. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, dragging the rough pad against it…

You breathe out against his hand, and his palm comes up to your cheek.

“Tried?” You squeak out. He nods.

“I wanted to. Even had myself convinced I did. Until you decided to come back to town and I immediately knew I was fucked. Because I didn’t. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“Then why wouldn’t you talk to me? I tried to reach out to you. To talk to you, but you refused.”

“I knew I didn’t hate you, but I was still angry. I didn’t have it in me to talk to you yet. And then you decided to take things into your own hands.”

You felt slightly guilty at the way you had tricked him. How Santi was your partner in crime and lured Frankie to where you were currently.

Initially, Santi’s method made you slightly uncomfortable, the pretense that this was a private lap dance that his friend had set up to assuage his moping. Frankie didn’t generally do things like that and you knew it, your initial meeting being the one and only time that you were aware of, but Santi assured you that he could make it happen.

….

Earlier that day….

“Indulge me pendejo…. It was a buy one get one…” As if that were a normal thing?

“You and I both know Will is too straight an arrow to enjoy it, and Benny would just end up trying to take her home. The lucky bastard would probably get away with it too I’m sure.”

“Pope, I haven’t done anything like that in a long time. Not since… you know what I mean…”.

“Yeah yeah yeah, the GIRL, I know. It’s been long enough man. You gotta just let it go.”

“She was your friend too, Santi. So not just some girl.”

“And? She was a friend, but I wasn’t ‘in love’ with her. We all knew she had her own issues… They probably just got the best of her.” Frankie isn’t sure how to take Santi’s sudden coldness toward you. He was usually understanding when it came to you.

“Look, all I’m saying is how long are you gonna hold a torch for her? She’d be here if she still cared.” He was putting it on thick for Frankie, knowing when all was said and done it’ll have been worth it.

“But she IS here, Santi. She keeps trying to talk to me and I just can’t.”

“You’re serious? This girl you’ve been pining over for the last two years is here? And you don’t want to talk to her?”

“No. Not… not yet anyway. I don’t know what she wants and every time I think about it I just get pissed off… “

“Well, here’s the perfect opportunity to just blow off some steam. I’m not saying you gotta sleep with this one, although I think if you played your cards right she might just”—

“POPE! Just shut up!”—

Santi knows he’s got him now. He thinks he should probably feel bad for this, but he knows Frankie will thank him later.

“Alright alright, calm down cabron, I’m just sayin’.”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Atta boy Fish!” Santi claps him on the shoulder… Frankie shrugs him off…. This whole thing just felt strange… he hoped Santi wasn’t getting him into anything he was going to regret.

-

They arrive at the location, a little upscale for his liking, but it’s on Santi’s dime so he isn’t altogether surprised nor does he particularly care.

When they go to the room, there are two chairs set out invitingly, the suite large enough to house a giant 4-poster King sized bed, a couch and sitting area, with a full kitchen etc

Santi announces their arrival and makes himself right at home in one of the chairs…. It seems a little out of place, but it’s not like he can say much… he just wanted to get this done with so he could go home.

A woman then emerges from the bathroom, black lace lingerie only slightly hidden by a see-through black robe that falls just above her garters… He forces himself not to think about how you looked very similar when the two of you had met…. Circumstances eerily similar to now.

“You alright Fish?” Santi can see how Frankie’s comfort level is dropping by the second, hoping that he can hang on for just a bit longer until the real show begins.

“Yeah. Just a long day is all.”

The woman makes her way over to Santi, whispering something in his ear.

“Oh yeah? Well I can’t say that I have sweetheart, but I’m willing to do just about anything once.” Santi tries not to over play it, just needing to get the ball rolling so you two get the chance to talk.

“Hey, Frankie… You up for something a little different?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this beauty here is wanting to expand our horizons a bit. You up for it?”

“If it involves me having to touch you, I’m out pendejo..”

“Nah nothing like that. She has some props she’d like to try out.”

“I thought this was a lap dance not an escort service!” Frankie’s on edge and he wants nothing more than to beeline for the door and go home.

“Mierda, no!… Sweetheart”— Santi’s attention is focused on the beautiful woman in lace —“would you just go ahead with what you were telling me?”

Now back to Frankie, —“It’s nothing like that, she just very much enjoys her audience, however sometimes they get a little handsy. She likes to make sure she can do her job without having to break anyone’s fingers.”

The woman walks out of the room and comes back with some type of rope and makes her way to Frankie.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure it’s worth your while” — She gives Frankie a wink and slowly starts to wrap the ropes around his shoulders. Pulling his hands behind the chair, she delicately wraps them individually, securing them in an impressive knot that isn’t too tight, but completely limits his mobility.

He’s not sure what to think, but Santi is seated in the same way he is, presumably waiting for his turn. However, Santi’s turn never comes.

When the woman finishes tying him up, Santi instead gets up, walks over to Frankie’s chair and tests the strength of his binds…

“What the fuck Pope?”

“Calm down Fish. You’ll thank me later.”

Reaching toward the woman Santi wraps his arm around her shoulders — “Trust me Pendejo…. You won’t want to miss this.”

Santi gives him a wink and with that he and the woman leave him in the now completely empty room.

“Pope!!” Frankie yells at the door, Santi ignoring his friend as he continues down the hallway.

“I’m going to fucking murder him,” Frankie says under his breath. He perks his head up at the sound of light music coming from what he assumes is the master bathroom.

“Hello?” He genuinely has no idea what to expect. “Goddamnit Santi, the fuck are you getting me into man?”

“Don’t blame Santi. It was partially my idea…..”

You take that moment to step out of the bathroom. Regular clothes still on, with a surprise hiding underneath. Frankie’s jaw is on the floor and his eyebrows are up to his hairline.

“Hi Frankie…” He starts shaking his head,

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But I had to talk to you,” you quickly try to explain.

Frankie looks down at the ropes holding him to the chair.. “and you thought THIS was the best way to do that? What the fuck?”

“No…. I tried getting you to talk to me. Several times and you wouldn’t. I don’t blame you, you know?” Frankie gives an annoyed huff. You do your best not to roll your eyes. Reminding yourself that this was to be expected.

“But, I had to figure something out. And then I ran into Santi a couple of weeks ago and he agreed to help me.”

“And why would he do that?” You can hear what sounds like betrayal in his voice.

“Because he was my friend too. And all I wanted was the chance to talk to you. To, I don’t know, explain myself??”

“Little late for that, now don’t you think?” You look down and Frankie decides to add fuel to the fire. The hurt still so fresh even with the amount of time that’s passed. Seeing you just brought it all right back. “What? I’m not sure what you expected, but did you ever stop to think that maybe I didn’t want to talk to you?”

You deserved that. The words still sting even though you know he’s being kind in comparison to how he must’ve felt. Of course he didn’t want to talk to you. Why else would you have had to convince Santi to get him here? It took him literally being tied to a chair, to finally talk to you.

“I know you don't. And after this, if you never want to speak to me again, I’ll understand.”

Frankie doesn’t speak. He just trains his eyes on you. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. He’s still very much the Frankie you left behind. But there’s a sadness in his eyes now that wraps around your throat and you hate yourself for the part you played in it.

The silence stretches to an awkward crescendo before you decide to go about this a different way… after all, he came here expecting a lap dance. It was how you met in the first place after all… It was no longer your lifestyle of choice, but maybe you should go back to where you both started….

……

Present….

“But what if… what if what you don’t know makes you hate me?”

“Look, when you left, I had no idea if you were even ok. I went crazy trying to find you…. I even..” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down, a flush of embarrassment touching his cheeks.. “I uh, hired someone to look for you. I just didn’t know. You fucking left. No word, no call, no note, just nothing.” He sounds defensive even though you have yet to say anything.

“I had to know if you were ok. And well, I found out…. My guy found you after about a month….. Said you were doing just fine in his opinion. Showed me pictures of you. Gave me your new stage name and an address where I could see for myself if I wanted to. So I did.”

“You what?” You couldn’t believe it. After you left, you wanted to go back to the same routine, to try to bring some normalcy or whatever you could call it, back into your life after having Frankie pull the rug out from underneath you. Stripping gave you that outlet. It was good money, and you could be anyone you wanted to be. Different hair, makeup, clothing, new name… you had no restraints and it made you feel alive.

Or it had.. before. This time, it didn’t have the same effect.

“I went to the address he gave me. I needed to see you. Needed to see with my own eyes that you were in fact OK. I don’t know what I expected, honestly. But, you were. Ok, I mean. You hadn’t been kidnapped, or murdered or hurt in any way. You were still you…. And, when I finally saw you, with your tits out and your ass in the air, I realized he was right. You were just fine.”

“Frankie,” you try to move toward him, but he backs away.

“I’ve never judged you for what you chose to do for a living. You were good at it. And had it not been for that, then I don’t know that we even would’ve met.”

“Then why—“ but he cuts you off..

“But seeing you back there…. I still don’t understand why you left, but it was clear that you had moved on.”

“Frankie, please listen to me…. “ he doesn’t say anything but he takes a few moments before he nods telling you to go ahead. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes give away his hurt even though you can tell he’s doing his best to keep himself in check.

“Ok, I’m just going to come out with everything and we can go from there, ok? I’m not going to try to make excuses for myself. I know some of the things I’ve done are less than stellar and in hindsight I do sometimes wish I had made better choices. I try not to regret anything, rather just learn from my mistakes and move on.

Before I met you, the last few years prior had been a bit of a rebellious time of self discovery. I, um… ugh ok…..”

You take a deep breath. Just get it out, consequences be damned.

“I came from a small town, but had been moved around throughout my childhood. My parents were together, but their relationship was toxic. They were so codependent and obsessed with each other that I was pushed to the side. They were teenagers when they had me. They weren’t ever married, but claimed to be. Nevermind the drugs, but neither one could hold a steady job. So we lived with other people. Jumping from home to home based on who was willing to take us in at the time. I spent the majority of my childhood taking care of my siblings because my parents were just too fucking lazy to do it themselves…..”

You take a deep breath to realign your thoughts. This was a rabbit hole that you could drown yourself in if you didn’t pull back.

“Why this matters is because as soon as I was of age to leave home, I fucking ran. I didn’t know where I was going, but I couldn’t take another minute with them. The biggest problem was that I didn’t exactly have many life skills to utilize out there on my own. I became dependent on other people also. I would crash at different friends’ houses, acquaintances really. But I never stayed in one place for very long. It’s like it was hardwired into my brain to never get comfortable enough to stay. Along the way, I met people who showed me how I could make decent money without having to work a day job. Something I could do at my own pace and anywhere I wanted. It also allowed me to try on different identities as I didn’t even know who the hell I was then..”

You realize you’ve been talking for quite a while and Frankie hasn’t said a word. He’s listening though. His eyes are on you, although he’s shifted back into the chair he was tied to. You continue when he still doesn’t say anything. Just letting you tell your story and you appreciate his willingness to do so when you never afforded him the same courtesy. You brush off the thought and carry on.

“I was nervous at first as I had obviously never done anything like that before, but I enjoyed it way more than I thought I would. The money was way more than I ever imagined, and for only a few hours a night? I could do anything I wanted to. The dream, right? I felt free, no one telling me what to do, I was responsible for myself and that’s it. I would move on after so long, once I felt the itch to run again, but I would just go wherever, sometimes with friends, sometimes on my own, but I never really cared where I ended up. I had no intention of staying anywhere in particular. I had been forced to go here and there and back again by my parents so many times that I needed that control. I’d stay where I felt like staying and then I’d leave.

I ended up in the City, and that’s where things took a different turn. One I hadn’t anticipated. The club I was working for had additional “services” available to clients that I wasn’t aware of originally. I had only been there a few weeks before one of my bosses asked when I would be ready to add those services to my resume.”

Frankie wasn’t a fool. He knew what you were talking about. You looked down as you said it because you didn’t want to see the look on his face. You hadn’t ever regretted how you did things, but you don’t think you could handle seeing him look at you with the disgust so often associated with those who chose to work in that profession. So you continue while looking down at the scratchy carpet. Avoiding his gaze until you could finish your story.

“I’d never done anything like it before, but the other girls were encouraging and said the money was well worth it. It wasn’t a brothel, I got the choice of who and when, so I was willing to try it. Just another act of rebellion I guess….” You take in a shaky breath— Why is this so hard? Just spit it out. Everyone has a past. Frankie deserves to know yours.

You're quiet while you try to give yourself a pep talk and Frankie notices your hesitation, “You ok?”

You nod and power through.

“So, remember when I asked you ‘what if the parts you don’t know make you hate me?’” Frankie nods… “Well here it is. I’m not proud of it, but I refuse to be ashamed of it. It’s something I did to get by and —“

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me…. I’m not gonna judge-“ Now it was your turn to cut him off..

“Frankie.” You look up to his face then, this was it.

“Look at me and tell me that you’re ok with the fact that I used to sleep with men for money.” Your gaze hardens by the overflow of emotions swirling inside of you. You’ve never felt this before and you’re just trying to brace yourself for his reaction.

You can’t read his expression. He’s stoned faced. “Well? Are you?” Your voice takes on a slight edge of desperation. This part came on way too quickly and now you’re just waiting for the bubble to burst.

“Am I what?”

“Are you ok with it?” He leans forward in the chair, eyes never leaving you.

“Continue with your story Len… You’re not done telling me and I want to hear everything. Just like you asked me to.”

Well, you hadn’t expected that. How much was actually left in your story? You were an escort for about a year before you came to Florida…. Then you met Frankie only a few months after arriving.

—

Two and Half Years Ago…..(roughly)

You had met him one night at the club you were working at. His buddy had paid for a private lap dance as he had just gotten his Pilot's license and wanted to celebrate his friend with a ‘guys night out’. He was shy. It was the first thing you noticed. Most of your regulars were ballsy, asking how far they could go, telling you what to take off, how to move etc etc But Frankie was endearing to you from the beginning with his flushed cheeks and a dimple that became very prominent when he smiled.

He kept his hands to himself, so when you placed them on your hips as you were grinding your barely clothed center into his groin, his breath caught in his throat and he growled. You were used to just about everything when it came to clients; moans, grunts, even squeals from some, but this? You had never been so affected by a sound in your life. Your back was to his front and you could feel the rumble through his chest and you broke out in goosebumps from the vibration alone.

You leaned your full body weight into him and continued moving your hips, reaching behind you and running your fingers through his hair, bringing his mouth to your neck. This wasn’t part of your normal routine, but it was unconscious on your part. You were just caught up in the actions that when you felt his tongue peek out against your skin, you moaned, gripping his hair hard enough to be painful. Frankie didn’t seem to mind as he got lost in the taste of your skin, and once you moaned, he was gone. He started kissing your neck with fervor and you let him.

This was bad. These private lap dances would normally include a little hands on, but just barely. Enough to rev their engines and leave them with a smile on their face, but things were going too far and fast.. This specific club didn’t have an escort service. You had purposely chosen one without it when you decided to come here. You enjoyed stripping, the feeling of greedy eyes upon you was exhilarating, and you wanted to let yourself have that freedom without the extra weight that came along with being an escort. You never had any horrible experiences, but the lifestyle just wasn’t YOU so you took your time in the profession for what it was and you moved on.

“Baby, you gotta stop doing that,” you say with a sly smirk. You’re trying not to ruin the atmosphere, but you can’t let this go any further….

“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry.” He pulls back from your neck, hands still on your hips. He sounds wrecked and when you look over, his eyes are closed.

“That’s ok, your buddy only paid for the dance…..” you say it with a sultry voice, still grinding on top of him.

His eyes open at that, “Oh shit, are you uh, —I wasn’t trying to…. I just got caught up in it. God, I’m sorry….”

“No, no this is as far as it goes for me, don’t worry. But I figured I’d let you know before it got out of hand.”

He looks beyond embarrassed, but you still want to make this good for him. You turn in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, whispering in his ear, “let me take care of you baby.”

He nods and practically melts into the chair. You pull off of him and walk around behind him, your hands find his shoulders and you give a firm squeeze. His tense muscles are stiff under your fingers, so you dig in a little deeper until you hear him groan in relief. Your hands run up his neck, into his hair and back down and then move to his chest, feeling his breathing hitch at the contact.

You’re not sure what comes over you then, but you lean into his neck and lay a kiss in the same place he had kissed you. This was also not part of your routine. Kissing is like, rule number fucking one of things NOT to do and yet, that unconscious pull has your own tongue licking a stripe up the side of his neck. He tastes like sun-drenched skin mixed with sweat along with a hint of his woodsy cologne… your mouth is actually watering.

“Fuck…. I thought we couldn’t do this sweetheart?” He sounds confused, but makes no move to stop you.

His words bring you back to earth and you know you have to stop this now. You’re not sure what the hell has gotten into you, or what it is about him in general, but you were about to take it too far so you stop yourself and back away from the chair.

“Sorry, I um, this isn’t normally part of the show.” You seem slightly panicked, but recover quickly.

“I guess we’ll just call it a freebie to top off your special night. Couldn’t let you beat me at my own game now could I?”

“Yeah, again, I’m sorry about that. I really don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s ok, you’re very good with your mouth I must say.” You were hoping to ease the tension, but the words that spill from you just make it so much worse. As soon as they leave your mouth, you instantly think about what else he could do with his own. Fuck.

He’s standing up now, looking shy as hell again, and you just want to go wrap him up in a hug. Before you throw all caution to the wind, you decide to walk him out instead, running your fingertips across his broad shoulders as you show him to the exit to the hallway where he can meet back up with his group of friends. You blow him your signature kiss, and see his cheeks flush again before he turns to leave.

That night was the first time you let a client’s name fall from your lips, with your hand between your legs and the feeling of his mouth on your neck replaying over and over again. Your orgasm making your toes curl as you thrash under your sheets and bite into your pillow to dampen the sound of your cries. Holy shit….

—

Back to present……

“Ok then,” You take a deep breath and continue.

“I um, I spent about a year or so doing what I normally did while also working as an escort. It was good money like I said and I had a lot of input as to what was allowed etc. I was getting by just fine, but then that same urge to leave had me looking for a new place. That’s when I moved here. I had decided then also that I wasn’t interested in doing it any more. So I just found something else where it would no longer be an issue and just made my way like usual.

And then I met you.”

“And then you met me. What happened next?”

“Well, after we first met, I noticed you. You uh, you came to the club a lot after that. You never approached me though, but I could see you. You were there for every new set, and you’d leave as soon as I was done. Sometimes I would add things… just for you when I knew you were watching. I actually tried to meet up with you when my set was the last one of the night, but you were already gone. I should’ve asked you before, but why was that?”

Now it’s his turn to look guilty…

“Um. I didn’t know you saw me there. I just… I couldn’t get you out of my head after that night. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I knew wouldn’t get me thrown out, or slapped across the face….” He gives a chuckle, “and just came to see your show.”

“You could’ve approached me. It’s not necessarily against the rules.”

He seems almost agitated, his words surprising you.

“I didn’t want to scare you. I’m sure you deal with a lot of creeps who think they’re in love with you because you make their dick hard….. I wasn’t in love with you, at least not…..” He stops himself. “I just… wanted to see you.”

“So what made you decide to send Santi in to talk to me then? Hmm?”

Shit. He had forgotten about that.

—

Two and a Half Years Ago….

After a few weeks of acting like a stalker and showing up to the club just to watch you and leave, he couldn’t stand it any more and asked if Santi would help him try to approach you. Santi went in by himself one night and caught you after one of your sets. You had remembered him from before when he was with Frankie. You hoped Frankie would be with him, but were just as surprised when he brought him up to you. He asked if you were seeing any one and if you would be willing or if it was allowed for you to have drinks with his friend; the one who “hadn’t shut up about you since that night.”

You were eager to see him again so you accepted. You weren’t sure how it would go, but you also hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that night either.

***

When you finally got to meet up with him, that pull was instantly there again, drawing you to him and you knew you were in trouble.

How much though, you never could’ve expected. You’d had flings over time of course. Then your time as an escort made up for what you lacked in a normal sex life, but you had never been in a real relationship before. You had never felt the need to. You and your partners were on the same page always…. You would have your fun and part ways.

This was the first time you were actually kind of hoping for more with someone. Normally, you would just meet someone to spend a few sweat soaked days enjoying yourself with. No strings whatsoever. You didn’t want a boyfriend per say, you didn’t want to settle down, you didn’t want attachments, but you wanted Frankie and you were excited to see where it led you despite the prickling feeling of unease when it came to meeting someone new.

That first night, after drinks, Frankie was an absolute gentleman. He offered to take you to the place you were staying, but you mentioned that you weren’t ready to go home yet. So he offered to take you to his place for another drink. He was still so shy, even in his own space. He wasn’t sure where the night was headed and you could tell he didn’t want to make any assumptions.

He told you to make yourself comfortable while he made you both a drink, so you sat down on the couch and waited patiently until he joined you.

You and Frankie talked for what seemed like hours… talked about his job, about being a pilot and what that was like. You talked about the different places you’ve lived and different things you had gotten to see. He would ask you silly questions, things that you would ask someone you truly wanted to get to know. Not someone you were just looking to hook up with.

You answered honestly and asked some silly questions of your own, like “how long have you lived in this town?,” or “what are your thoughts for the future?” You don’t know why you ask him that. Your own future you rarely thought about much further than the next week… But, as had been the normal when it came to Frankie, you felt different with him. You ignored the flare of worry that accompanied those feelings. The little voice in your head telling you that this wasn’t you. This wasn’t what you did…

You ignored it because you were invested, but you couldn’t give that a conscious thought. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to go home yet. So you kept going.

Before long, you both had slowly gravitated closer to each other on the couch. His arm resting across the back while his torso faced you. You were sitting in a similar way, but with both legs underneath you, leaning against the cushions.

His hand came down while he spoke, almost like he didn’t realize he was moving. He gets so animated when he talks sometimes, he would use his hands to emphasize something. This time, his hand landed on your knee, and he clocked it instantly, however he didn’t pull away. He looked up to you, silently asking if it was ok. You put your hand over his and nudged it higher on your thigh. Your intent was crystal clear. This whole time, you couldn’t look at him without imagining how his lips and facial hair had felt against your skin. The alcohol continued buzzing in your system, making you feel bold, so the moment you felt him touch you in any way, all bets were off.

Once his hand reached your waist, you couldn’t help it anymore but to lean forward and finally, finally feel his lips on yours.

Frankie immediately squeezed your hip and returned your kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth, tasting you, his free hand coming up to your face and cupping your cheek. Holding you to him as he lost himself in you.

He may have been holding you, but you needed to be closer to him, now. You continue to push forward until he practically falls back on the couch, head just shy of the armrest. He never breaks your kiss as you climb on top of him, straddling his waist. The hand on your cheek moves down to join the other one on your hips, slowly moving down until you feel him grasp a handful of your ass. He moans into your mouth and you swallow it down.

“Fucking Christ— You... Are so fucking Beautiful.” He utters between kisses. His breathing picks up significantly and you can feel the outline of his cock in his jeans beneath you.

You grind down, and he grunts out a breath, “fuck baby, don’t… don’t start something you can’t… can’t finish….”

“What, you think I can’t finish you Francisco?”

“Jesus, baby, you’re gonna fucking kill me, you keep talkin like that.”

“Well let me just occupy my mouth with something else then.” And with that you move down his torso, evading his wandering hands that try to keep you in place. You’ve been dying to see his cock, the impressive outline in his jeans has had your mouth watering since you felt him get hard beneath you.

“Holy shit… Fucking dirty girl, huh?” You’re used to being called all sorts of things, but in this moment, the surprise in his tone when he calls you that has your core throbbing.

You get to the waistband of his jeans and you start undoing his belt buckle. You slowly work your fingers around the leather, pulling it free. Frankie’s stomach jumps with every brush of your skin against his. You can’t help it but to lean forward and run your nose through the trail of hair that leads from the bottom of his navel down below his jeans. As you pop the button free and start on the zipper, you keep your face level with his stomach, nuzzling into each bit of newly exposed skin as you undo his fly.

“Fuck, pretty girl, look at me.” Frankie sounds desperate… you make eye contact with him, but you don’t stop your hands as they work to free him from the confines of his jeans. You reach a hand inside, under his boxers, feeling his cock for the first time as his expression goes from desperate to almost feral. You hold his gaze as you slowly pull him free, you hand grasping him tightly, your fingers not quite able to meet around his girth.

Fuck he’s big. You think to yourself and you actually lick your lips in anticipation of feeling him on your tongue. Frankie’s pupils are blown wide with desire and you waste no time as you guide his cock into your waiting mouth. His mouth opens as soon as his tip makes contact with your tongue and he is watching you with total fascination.

You sink down on him, enveloping as much of his cock as you can into your mouth. Your hand holds firm to the remainder that won’t fit. You come back up and lav your tongue up the underside of his cock and rest it, just underneath his tip. A spot that you find is the most sensitive, so much so that you’ve actually been able to make a guy come just from attention to that spot alone. But Frankie’s cock is like no other that you’ve ever seen. He's big, and long, but not obnoxiously so. The skin is golden brown, with his hair neatly trimmed. And he tastes phenomenal. He smells the same as he did when you first met and you feel saliva pool under your tongue as well as your slick leak into your already soaked panties.

“Pretty girl, God you’re so fucking pretty.. put it back in. I wanna see my cock in your mouth..” You do as he says and he throws his head back once you take him all the way down, opening your throat for him this time as your nose reaches his curls and he cries out, “fuck, fuck fuck……..”

He snaps his head back to you, his jaw clenching as he takes short quick breaths in and out of his nose, trying to keep himself from coming down your throat before he’s ready.

You begin to bob your head up and down, and your hand takes its place at his base. You keep the pressure along his entire cock with your hands as you swirl your tongue around his tip and gently tongue his slit making him buck his hips up and utter curse after curse as he desperately tries to drag it out.

“Fuck, stop stop….” You quickly pull off of him, worried you did something wrong..

“You ok????” Your lips are spit slick and swollen and he pushes up to kiss you, while urging you onto your back on the opposite side of the couch. Your hands are still on his cock, but you pull them away as soon as his own hand finds you clit over your jeans…. The material is completely soaked through as he rubs you. His fingers moving up and down, your jeans so tight he can practically feel your lips parting beneath. He moves his hand up to start undoing the button on your jeans.. “Gotta put my mouth on you beautiful.” And just as quickly as he started, he stops to pull your pants and underwear down just enough for your pussy to peek out and he immediately brings his face down to taste you.

“Oh fuck!” His tongue urges your lips apart as his hands continue pulling your jeans down your legs. Exposing more of you to him and as soon as you’re free of the offending pieces of clothing, he’s on you. He throws them across the room, landing with a thud who knows where and he parts your legs, making room for his broad shoulders between them. He runs his palms up and down the inside of your thighs, lightly tracing over your pussy with one hand, he leans down and licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, before burying his face completely in your folds….

“Fuck Frankie!” His facial hair tickles your sensitive skin, but you can’t think past the feeling of his tongue lapping up your slick as his nose bumps your clit in time with his movements.

Your taste has him drunk, and he growls his praise directly into your pussy… “Goddamn, so gorgeous. Letting me taste your pretty pussy….. Fuck! So sweet…... You’re so fucking sweet…. Taste yourself beautiful…” Frankie leans up to your face and you open your mouth.. He brings his lips to yours, but doesn’t close the gap completely. Instead, he lightly drips your essence from his tongue to yours, then closes his mouth, kissing you hard as you swallow what he gave you. He goes back down and laps at you again, suckling your clit between his lips as he takes two fingers and gently pushes them into your throbbing cunt… as soon as he enters you, the moan you let out is obscene… “Yes, fuck. Tell me beautiful. You need me to fuck this pussy huh?”

“Yes, Frankie, fuck… yes!” He starts thrusting his fingers in and out, his other hand pushing down on the top of your mound and his thumb swipes at your clit while he finds the perfect rhythm with his fingers… He feels it the moment he finds your squishy little center and he grinds his fingertips into it as he draws a pool of saliva and spits on your clit, licking it up before taking it between his teeth. You could almost cry with how good it feels… You can tell your orgasm is fast approaching and you grind your pussy against his face. He doesn’t let up, instead he goes that much harder as he feels your walls begin to clamp down on his fingers.. “God yes, come for me baby…. Then I’ll fuck you ok?”

You’re so far gone, you just nod as your vision goes white and you come on a strangled cry… you were trying not to be too loud, but it's all forgotten as Frankie fucks you through your orgasm while firmly sucking on your clit, not letting up until you lightly push his head away when you become too sensitive.

Frankie surges up to meet your lips, his face thoroughly soaked in your slick, but you don’t care. You want his tongue in your mouth when he enters you for the first time… only problem is his jeans are still in the way, but you reach down and start helping him pull them down. He’s not graceful, but he gets them off in a hurry and returns between your legs…

You run your hands down his sides to the hem of his shirt, lifting it before he takes over and pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. He’s Fucking beautiful. He’s all golden skin, with some scars and a small soft tummy.

He wedges between your legs again and this time, he looks into your eyes as he asks “you ready?”

You nod your head up and down before logic rings true and you remember something. “Wait, wait, do you have a condom?”

“Fuck…. Uh, I wasn’t exactly planning this pretty girl… I don’t…shit…”

“It’s ok, um, I’m clean…. And I have an implant so we’re good if you just want to… “

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure…”

“Fuck, ok….” Frankie closes his eyes as he reaches down to line himself up, giving himself a few firm tugs to get himself back up after the sudden panic about the condom subsided.

He opens his eyes and meets yours. Never breaking eye contact as he pushes forward, his cock slowly filling up your aching cunt until his pelvis is flush with yours.

“Oh God, oh fuck!”

“I know, I’ll go slow….”

“No, no fuck, Frankie, I need you to move….”

“Yeah?” He gives a sharp thrust and you cry out. He’s hitting the exact spot he had with his fingers and you brace yourself for what you know is going to be the best sex of your life if his first thrust is any indication of what to expect.

“Yes Frankie,” You look back to him and nod your head.. “Do it, I, I, I want it…”

“Fuck yes gorgeous.”

And that’s it.

Like an explosion going off, it’s dead silence in your head until he starts to move and then BAM! All you can think is fuck fuck fuck! As he hammers into you at a relentless pace… spouting praises and obscenities, you can’t even think straight so you just hold on while he fucks you.

He feels so fucking good… you’re holding on for dear life, but with the way he’s moving you effortlessly it’s as if you weigh nothing. He reaches behind your back and pulls your hips into him as he thrusts his cock into you over and over again. The slap slap slap of your ass on his thighs, the sweat building along every inch of skin between you, and you still haven’t even taken your shirt off yet.

I’m gonna come. You think, but you don’t want to break the bubble that surrounds you both. So you keep it to yourself as he will definitely know when you get there.

“Fuck pretty girl. You feel so Fucking good.”

“Fuck, fuck don’t stop, please God don’t stop.”

“You gonna come for me?” It’s something about the way that he says it… like he’s genuinely in awe of the fact that he was about to get you off with his cock inside you.. The man has said the most lewd things to you and is currently balls deep in your pussy, yet still self deprecating enough to wonder?

“There we go, I can fucking feel it,” his pace never lets up…. “Come on, give it to me, I want it baby. Please?”

You were gone before, but his words, his pleading, tips your right over the edge and you bite the skin of his shoulder so hard you worry that it was too much, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. You’re clenching him so tightly that he speeds up, letting the pressure of your cunt trigger his own orgasm and he comes, hard, hips stuttering against you, finding your mouth so he can kiss you while he paints your walls with his come. He continues to thrust lightly until the feeling becomes too much and he stops. Panting into your mouth as he comes down….. he doesn’t pull out of you, but just rests his head on your clothed chest, listening to your heart beat wildly as you both try to catch your breath.

After what could’ve only been minutes or even hours, you look down at him and he looks up to you at the same time. His bangs are sweaty, so you swipe them to the side. He smiles up at you and that fucking dimple makes your stomach do little flips. Even with his cock still fully sheathed within you, the effect he has on you has you blushing with a stupid looking smile on your face, but you could care less. The little voice in your head is screaming at you again, but you refuse to acknowledge it and decide to ignore its warning, leaning down to capture his lips with yours instead.

You are completely fucked.

—

Back to Present…..

“Does it really matter now?”

“No, not really.” The atmosphere seems to have shifted… you’re not really sure what to say. You realize though, that you both breezed past the point in your story where you thought Frankie would surely draw the line with you.

“For what it's worth, I’m glad you did. Do you think you ever would’ve come up to me eventually?”

He smiles to himself, then he meets your eyes…. “Honestly? Probably not. I was way too chickenshit, but I like to think that I would have. I don’t like thinking that had it not been for Santi, that uh, this,” he motions between the two of you, “wouldn’t have ever happened. His head is too goddamn big as it is. Don’t need to give him any more reason to feel like a big shot.”

“Well it can just stay between us then.”

“I guess it can.”

You’re smiling, genuinely smiling…. You could feel that easy peace you used to have with him fall back into place and you were beyond grateful.

Neither of you say anything for a few minutes, the silence beginning to get awkward as you weren’t sure how to carry on the conversation. He eventually breaks the silence.

“So.” He starts…. A beat goes by so you add to it, “so….”

“So, we meet after I sent Santi to talk to you. We both know how that went so we don’t need to recount our time together if you don’t want to… although, there’s still the question of why…. You still haven’t told me why you left. Or what you’ve been doing since then…. “

There it is. The pit in your stomach opening back up, but you asked him to listen to your story, so you owed it to him to finish.

“I told you that I think it’s hardwired in me to run, right?” Not a question, but you need to emphasize your point.

“Yes, you might have mentioned that a few times so far,” comes his snarky reply. You don’t take offense to it, you just need to make sure you’re on the same page.

“Well, normally I wouldn’t stay in one single place for more than a year at best, or that’s what my track record looks like anyway. I don’t know why that is exactly, but if I had to guess, it all goes back to my parents.” The list of things that could be attributed to the bullshit your parents put you through continues to grow and grow….

“Anyway, I just want to start by saying that it was nothing that you did ok?”

“But it doesn’t make any sense Len. You said you cared too much… what does that even mean?”

“It means that we were getting serious and that had never happened to me before. I’d had boyfriends in the past I guess, but I’d never wanted anything more than that.”

“Ok, but we weren’t doing anything different were we? We were just ‘having fun’ right?” Your words thrown back at you hurt more than you thought they would.

“Yes, we had fun Frankie. It was the future that scared me.”

“I get it, commitment and all that is scary, but what in particular made you feel like you had to leave without a Fucking word? We never even talked about it. The future? None of it. We were just… Together.”

“I know. I know. Like I said, it was nothing that you did.”

“Then please, Len, please explain it to me.” He’s getting frustrated.

“You ripped my fucking heart out….. I never would’ve pressured you into anything.”

“I know that, Frankie…”

“I had thought things at times, sure….”

That gets your attention. You don’t say a word, but let him continue.

“But we’d only been seeing each other for six months and neither of us were anywhere near ready for that. Things were GOOD. And then you just left…

“When I said that I cared too much, I meant that I DID want those things.”

“Ok….. You’re going to have to dumb it the fuck down into terms that I understand sweetheart. Because that makes not one bit of sense.”

You’re trying to figure out how to put it into words. You didn’t have a justifiable reason. It’s always just been a feeling.

As is always the case when you up and leave you just get the feeling that it’s time to go. The problem though was that this time, you hesitated. You felt for the first time like you wanted to stay put. You weren’t ready to leave. Weren’t ready to move on to the next thing. And THAT scared you. You had lived your entire adult life up until that point with literally no end goal in mind. Just taking life as it came. You figured you’d just know when you got there and allowed yourself the freedom to change your mind at a moment's notice.

But with Frankie, you had purposefully blocked out the part of you that kept your walls up and let him in. You refused to listen to your own fucked up voice of reason because you wanted to be selfish. You had always listened to it, always left when your mind decided it was time to go. But you unconsciously fought it this time… ignored it, shushed it, pretended like it wasn’t there until one day it became too much.

—

Two years ago…

It was a day where nothing crazy happened, no drama, no fighting, no scraping by…. You were just… there. In Frankie’s house, where you had been spending a lot more time as of late. That day, just like several others, he was at work and you were just hanging out. Flipping through the TV channels, just thinking about what you and Frankie might do later on.

Then the feeling hit you out of no where, like a shit ton of fucking bricks. It took your breath away, and you started hyperventilating…..

You were WITH Frankie. He was your boyfriend. You were in his house, where you had stayed with him the night before and many other nights before that. He was at work, and you were looking forward to what he might want to do later.

You didn’t do this. You didn’t tie yourself to anything. To anyone. You lived for YOU and you alone.

You felt like the walls were closing in on you. Like you were trapped suddenly. You had to get out of his house. You needed to breathe. So you grabbed your bag, threw in a few items that you could find real quick and were heading toward the door when you passed the fridge.

On it was a photo strip of pictures you and Frankie had taken in a Photo Booth when you had gone to the pier a couple of months ago. He had taken you on the giant Ferris wheel and fed you funnel cakes for the first time.

There were four different poses.. One with silly faces, one with serious faces, one with you both smiling brightly at the camera and one where you were laughing with your eyes closed, and Frankie was smiling, but he was looking at your face and not at the camera.

Your tears came unbidden now, seeing Frankie’s face, knowing what you were about to do broke your heart, but the feeling was so strong that you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t put any coherent thoughts together, your mind just screaming at you to go go go… You couldn’t stop looking at the last picture. It was your favorite one… So instead, you took it and stuffed it in your bag and left. You would realize later on that that was why you couldn’t go back. The picture alone almost made you stay… If you saw him again in person, you wouldn’t be able to leave him.

—

You never went back. You never called, you never went and got the rest of your things. You just did what you always did, and you ran.

—

Back to Present…..

He’s still waiting on a response from you. Anything really at this point. Words. Something…. The silence was deafening.. so you try it from a different angle to see if you could figure out how to get there.

“You asked me about what I’ve been doing since leaving….”

“I also asked why you left but you haven’t been able to tell me that yet…”

“That’s true. But I don’t have an answer that makes sense. So I’m going to tell you what I’ve done since, which might help it all make sense at the end.”

He looks exhausted…. The confusion is evident on his face, but God bless him, he is trying so hard to understand, even though you don’t deserve it. You decide to just throw it all out there, now that it seems like he is at least not put off by your past…

He’s still here after all?

“After I left, I tried to go back to living the way I always had. But I was hollow. What normally fed my soul and brought me life, just didn’t really do anything for me anymore. I tried, Lord I tried. So hard, but I just couldn’t. I missed you. Frankie. I fucking missed you, and I regret now, every single day that I was gone. I wanted to go back, but my mind,” you put your fingers to your temple for emphasis, “my own mind wouldn’t let me. So dead set on never living like my parents… never giving someone that hold over me…” You wait a moment before moving on.

“I started seeing a therapist. One of the girls at the club I had been working at recommended that I go see one. From her own experience, she said it helped her learn things about herself and that she generally felt better overall. It was worth a shot at the very least. So I went. In the process, I learned a lot about myself. Am still learning a lot about myself. About my trauma as a child. About that feeling of abandonment.. About how I had forged this iron wall around myself that prevented anyone from getting in. I was in control and I wasn’t going to let myself be hurt.”

You think you see it the moment it clicks in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, but the confusion on his face is replaced with something you can’t quite recognize.

“It took me two years to come and find you. Before then, I never had the tools or the knowledge to even understand what I was going through. But I spent those two years learning. Learning about myself, about my family, my past, my feelings and what they meant. All of it. I also spent that time trying to heal wounds that I didn’t even know were there. Gaping wounds that had basically been covered with really shitty bandaids my whole life, because I didn’t know any better.

But they’re healing Frankie. I came here, because I realized, well I had always known, I just never allowed myself to believe it.”

You wait a moment. This was big. You take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this entire time. I just didn't know how to let myself accept that I could.”

His jaw is hanging open slightly, his eyes betraying so many different emotions. He still hasn’t said anything. So you continue, hoping that what you were saying made sense to him.

“In short, Frankie, I spent the last two years getting help. I’ve made a lot of progress, but I still have a long way to go. Those feelings that forced me to leave, will always be there. Hardwired, remember? But I have the tools now that I can use to try and push through them.”

He speaks. Finally.

“What did you expect when you came here Len?”

“Nothing. I didn’t, I don’t have any expectations. I just had to make sure you knew. That’s why I’ve been so desperate to talk to you. But then I saw you in person and, well, I lost my composure in a manner of speaking.”

“Where are you staying?” He motions toward the room, “this your hotel?

“Yeah,” you wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t say another word. So you continue.

“Well…. That’s it. That’s the story. I don’t expect you to just forget about the way things happened. I’m also not here to ask you to blindly let me back into your life. I just…. I had to make sure that you knew. Had to make sure you understood the full truth. I came here to tell you in person because you deserved that much.”

He looks pensive… like he’s just taking it all in.

“This doesn’t have to change anything. Hell, I was halfway expecting to find out that you had settled down with someone. I tried to prepare myself for every outcome, I just needed to tell you.”

“Before this,” he clears his throat to start, having not said much in the last while. You’d been talking pretty much nonstop since the beginning.

“Like I said before, I had convinced myself that I hated you. I’ve never felt like that after a breakup before. Sure, they all hurt in their own way, but after you, I felt like I lost a part of myself. Santi is the only one who knows how deep it goes, but I haven’t um, I haven’t been with anyone… I couldn’t. I tried, though. I went on a couple dates Santi tried to set me up with… it was awful.”

“How so?” He looks up to meet your gaze.

“None of them were you.”

“Oh.” Your stomach does a little flip.

“You didn’t have to…. I don’t know Frankie. I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, I… “

“I know….”

“You don’t have to decide anything, if you don’t want to. We can just leave things the way they are and I would understand.”

“What would you want?”

“This isn’t about me… I have no right to decide anything after what I did to you.”

You hope he can feel your sincerity. You truly want whatever happens next to be his choice.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head. He was thinking. If he was anything like you, then the sheer amount of thoughts would become overwhelming. You were still learning how to tamper them down. How to breathe and refocus your attention so your mind didn’t spiral.

“Can we maybe just try to get to know each other again?” You feel tears immediately well in your eyes. You had hoped, but never expected the outcome that you so badly wanted would actually come to be. “I’d really like that Frankie.”

“Ok.” He’s smiling now. “Ok.” You nod and that stupid smile is back on your face.. You’re not sure what to do… he’s still sitting in the chair, and you’re still standing in front of him.

The awkward silence just sits between you momentarily while you both work up the courage to do or say something else, until a loud banging on the door makes you both jump.

“Hey guys, it’s been hours! I better not be getting charged extra for this!”

“Fuck off Pendejo!!!” Frankie yells back.

“You guys kiss and make up yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah….” He looks over to you, then back to the door. “I think we did.”

“Hoooooooo you dog!!! I’m just gonna leave you to it then!” And with that Santi leaves…. The man was frustratingly annoying at times, but you have to admit that without his interference on three separate occasions, you wouldn’t be here with Frankie now.

You look at each other, and you walk over to him. He stands and meets you halfway…. When you reach him, he grabs your hands, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. His palms are warm and you lean your forehead on his chest. He drops your hands as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug that makes warmth spread throughout your chest and down to your fingertips.

It feels right.

For the first time in your life, it feels like home.

—

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve tagged some of those who have shown interest in some of my other WIPs or who I think might be interested etc but if you’d rather not be tagged or would LIKE to be tagged just let me know!!! 😊

@boliv-jenta @just-here-for-the-moment @wildemaven @sunnysidekit @harriedandharassed @foli-vora @heythere-mel @iamskyereads @quica-quica-quica @queridopascal @autumnleaves1991-blog

[ladydorian05]

A Home for Broken Hearts ~ Chapter 2

Co-written with @made-ofmemories (she also made the header)

What's this!? Two chapters in one day!?

Yup, two chapters in one day!

You can expect one chapter per week, we'll most likely be posting on Saturdays. And last but not least, we'd love to read what you think of this fic! ❤️ Enjoy!! :D

Word count: 2,810

Master Post

AO3

Chapter 2: Of broken hearts and healing ideas

Robin thinks she’s stealthy, sneaking into Steve’s room, but she might just be the clumsiest person in the entire city and she is not as quiet as she thinks she is, creeping around the admittedly cluttered space. He wakes the minute she opens the door. 

“Rise and shine, Stevie!” She sounds far too chipper, ripping the curtains open and sending him burrowing under the covers when the sunlight hits his squinting eyes. 

“Go away, Robin.” His voice is muffled by the comforter bunched up around his face. It’s too early, his head is pounding and he would very much like to go back to sleep. 

“Not until you tell me what happened last night.” 

He must have woken her when he stumbled into the apartment last night. He doesn’t remember much after passing the threshold, but he must have been loud because Robin sleeps like the dead.

The bed dips as she flops down beside him. He lets out a sigh then rolls over to face her. She’ll drag it out of him one way or another, she always does. Steve had never believed in soulmates, until he met Robin and it was like staring at a part of himself that he hadn’t even known was missing. 

Steve peeks his head out from beneath the blanket and sees Robin’s blue eyes staring back at him expectedly. Laying like this reminds him of the sleepovers they’d have as teenagers, staying up too late talking about everything and nothing. He misses those days, back when all they had to worry about were highschool grades and their shitty part time jobs at the ice cream parlor in the mall where they met.

“I had a date with Heidi. Well, I thought it was a date, turns out she only invited me there to dump me.” He contemplates hiding under the comforter again when he sees the expression on Robin’s face morph into sadness, “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m fine, Robs.”

“Sure you are,” she says, but her tone doesn’t match her words. Damn her and that ability she has to see through every last one of his lies. They do this a lot, Steve pretending he’s unaffected by everything even though they both know he’s got a much bigger heart than he lets on, “So where were you until 3am?”

“Some dive bar downtown.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

“How did you get home?” There’s concern creeping into her voice now and he hasn’t even gotten to the best, or maybe worst depending on the point of view, part of his story.

“Some random guy from the bar gave me a ride in his van.” He deadpans.

“What?”

“Yeah, we actually stopped at this- I guess you could call it a construction site?” Steve contemplates without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Will it make you feel better if I say I am?”

“Oh my god. How have you even survived this long?” Robin asks, tangling one of her hands in her hair the way she always does when she’s stressed. She’s taking it better than he expected in all honesty. She’s always been a bit of a worrier. 

“Dumb luck mostly.” He shrugs the shoulder he isn’t lying on, “Now that we’ve established that I’m an idiot, can I please go back to sleep?”

“No. You’re going to drink a glass of water, the biggest one we have. Then we’re going out for lunch and I want to know more about van guy.”

“Lunch? What time is it?” It feels early, too early, not time for lunch. Though that could be down to his pounding headache and the fact he didn’t go to sleep until long after 3am.

“12:30.” He feels the mattress shift again, this time when Robin gets up. She grabs his discarded shirt from the floor and it hits him in the face a second later, “Get dressed I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“I hate you,” He says into his pillow, there’s no venom behind it. He looks up just in time to watch her flipping him off as she leaves. 

Robin is sitting on one of the counter tops when he wanders into the kitchen 10 minutes later despite the perfectly good chairs a few feet to her left. She tosses a bottle of tylenol at him, he catches it and mumbles his thanks as he grabs an empty glass from the side of the sink.

Robin’s socked foot pushes into the soft flesh of his side, “That’s not the big one and you know it.” He sets the glass back down and pulls out another from the cupboard, holding it up so she can see it and awaiting her nod of approval before he fills it.

“My car is still at the bar, so you’ll have to drive,” He explains to her, suddenly very thankful for all those driving lessons he gave her over the years. They can pick his car up later, he doesn’t think he’s in any fit state to be driving right now anyway.

“Alright, you ready to go?” She asks once he’s shaken 2 pills from the bottle and swallowed them with a gulp of water.

“Yeah,” He pats the back pocket of his jeans and frowns when he finds it empty, “let me just grab my wallet.” 

He finds his keys on the table by his bedside where he set them after stumbling in earlier that morning, he was sure he’d dumped his wallet there with them but it’s not there. There’s no sign of it after he’s turned the rest of his room upside down either leaving him scratching his head as he sits amidst the pile of laundry he’s dragged out from the basket under the assumption he must have left it in a pocket somewhere. 

“Have you found it yet?” Robin calls. He’d tasked her with searching the couch in case it had somehow ended up wedged between the cushions, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“No.” He sticks his head out of his room to check up on her progress.

“I’m starving,” She whines, “let's just go. I’ll pay. We can tear the place apart looking for it later.” 

“Just, let me check my room once more then we can go I swear.”

There’s a knock at the front door and Steve’s pretty sure that’s the only reason she doesn’t argue with him.

“Make it quick, Harrington!” She calls and he darts back into his room whilst she goes to deal with whoever is knocking at their door on a Saturday afternoon. They hadn’t been expecting company, at least none that he was aware of.

He abandons his laundry theory and turns instead to rifling through his drawers. It’s got to be in here somewhere. He’s onto the second drawer when he hears Robin’s voice ringing through the apartment.

“Hey, Stevie! I found your wallet.” 

She’s holding the front door open, a smirk on her face as she watches him come barreling out of his room then freeze in his tracks when he sees none other than Eddie standing in the doorway holding up what appears to be Steve’s wallet. 

He’s wearing an outfit similar to the one from the previous night, only this time there’s a leather jacket over his t-shirt and there’s a different yet still unfamiliar logo on the front of it. The only major difference in his appearance is his hair, it’s untied today, falling in loose curls down to his shoulders.

“Figured you might be missing this.” He’s smiling as he holds out the Wallet in Steve’s direction, “Found it under the passenger seat this morning.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” 

He tucks the wallet into his pocket and thinks that’ll be the end of it, but Eddie lingers, twirling one of his rings around his index finger. Steve doesn’t know him well enough to tell whether it’s a nervous habit or just something he does.

“There’s actually something I wanted to show you,” Eddie says, “if you’re not busy.”

“We were just heading out to get lunch.” Steve explains, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Robin.

“Oh Lunch can wait, I want to see this.”

“What happened to ‘I’m starving, Steve, I’m going to waste away if we don’t get lunch within the next 10 seconds, Steve’.” 

It’s a poor imitation of Robin’s voice, one that has her curling her lip at him in disgust. It makes Eddie chuckle though, a sound Steve finds himself really liking, which is maybe a little concerning given the fact they’ve known each other for less than 24hrs. That’s an issue for future Steve to unpack. 

“Come on, what’re you waiting for?!” She throws both of her hands up in frustration, the keys in her hand jangling with the movement. She’s already halfway down the hallway while Steve and Eddie haven’t moved.

Steve and Robin take her car, a modern, bright yellow vw beetle that she had started saving for since before she even knew how to drive, and Eddie leads the way in his van. 

Hellfire looks pretty much the same as Steve’s slightly fuzzy memory of it. There’s a little sunlight streaming through the cracks in some of the window coverings and a lot more people milling around, but it still looks just as much of a construction site. 

“Eddie? Is that you?” It’s a feminine voice, cheery and light. At first Steve can’t determine where it’s coming from until a head of strawberry blonde hair pops up from behind the bar.

“I brought some visitors,” Eddie says to the mystery woman who is making her way over to them, then turns his attention to Steve and Robin again, “This is Chrissy my…”

“Business partner,” She supplies when he struggles to find the words.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

“Robin.”

“Chrissy helps me out with just about everything.” He pulls her into a one armed hug and she pushes him away playfully with a smile. It’s clear they’re close, but Steve can’t quite figure out what the story between them is. He is, however, sure there’s more to it than simple business partners, “She’s pretty much the only reason anything gets done around here.”

“Yes, I am, which is why I need to get back to work,” She shares a glance with Eddie that Steve can’t quite decipher, it’s the same type of silent communication he and Robin have perfected through many many years of friendship, “It was lovely meeting you both,” She says, her face morphing back into something more open and friendly when she addresses Steve and Robin.

Chrissy leaves them, navigating through the mess of covered up furniture and construction equipment with so much ease Steve is sure she could do it blindfolded.

“Ok, it’s just over here,” Eddie explains, returning to their original task and the whole reason they’re here in the first place. 

He leads them to the wall where Steve had left the scrunchie last night, but now there’s something beside it, two tickets pinned to the wall with messy handwriting scrawled next to them.

‘James skipped town 3 days

before this concert

and didn’t bother to tell me.’

“Heidi?” Robin questions, ignoring the tickets entirely and looking at Steve’s message from last night, “Steve, did you do this?”

“Yeah,” Steve waves her off, he’ll catch her up on everything over lunch, “but who left those?” 

“Don’t know.” Eddie shrugs, “Found them when I got here this morning. Could’ve been anyone there’s people in and out of this place all the time, construction worker, delivery guy, who knows.”

“Holy shit,” Steve says, running his fingers over the edge of the tickets.

“Yeah, holy shit,” Robin echoes, “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get him to lose some of the ex memorabilia?” She asks Eddie, “Seriously, you should see his room, it's like a mausoleum in there. He once kept a gum wrapper, with a wad of chewed up gum in it for over a year.”

“Alright, thank you very much for that Robin, but I think that’s enough.” Steve cuts her off with a stern glare.

“A mausoleum for broken hearts,” Eddie muses.

Robin’s face lights up with an idea at Eddie’s words. She grabs the marker from the table they had passed on the way over here, the same pen Steve and presumably whoever left the tickets had used to scrawl on the wall.

‘The broken hearts gallery, leave your heartbreak here’

“There,” She says, stepping back to admire her work, “It could be like a community project, maybe there’s more hoarders like Steve out there who need a place where they can learn to let go.”

“I am not a hoarder,” Steve protests, indignant at the mere suggestion, “It’s a good idea though, maybe it’ll help people.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie interrupts, waving his hands in front of him as he steps between them, “as much as I’m all for self expression. Maybe a literal construction site isn’t the best place for your little art project?”

“It’s the perfect place,” Robin insists, “I can set up some social media accounts, start spreading the word.”

“We could ask for tips for each donation too,” Steve suggests, “You can put the money back into this place.”

“And Steve can help out with the labor, you guys look busy, an extra pair of hands would be good right?” Steve’s glaring at her again, but she’s unphased, “Oh what? It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.” 

She’s right, she usually is, it’s annoying.

“It would,” Eddie confirms, taking a moment to consider the offer before he says “alright, deal.”

They agree to meet again on Monday at 8am, Chrissy seems thrilled with the news when Eddie calls her over to let her know about their newest volunteer and they share another one of those silent conversations passed through a series of unreadable expressions. 

Chrissy and Eddie are an unusual pair, it was evident the moment Eddie had introduced her to them, and it continues to be evident now. Chrissy is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a peach t-shirt with a white ribbon tied into a bow holding up her slicked back ponytail, meanwhile Eddie is all dark denim and leather. They couldn’t look more different if they tried. And for all her caution, Robin seems to have taken to them both rather quickly, so much so that he’s surprised she doesn’t invite them to lunch.

They eat at their usual haunt, a little cafe they frequent so often because Robin insists they sell the best apple pie in the whole city. Steve is just glad to have a good cup of coffee placed down in front of him.

Robin spends most of the time with her nose buried in her phone, occasionally passing it across the table to ask Steve’s approval on whatever social media page she’s setting up now. Should it be the broken heart gallery or the broken hearts gallery? Does he think this picture is better or this one? 

“Sure,” He agrees despite not really knowing what the question was. She frowns at him, wrong answer, “Sorry.” 

“I know I kind of just sprung this on you,” Robin starts, her voice is soft a tone she reserves only for serious conversations, “but we don’t actually have to go through with this whole gallery thing if you’re not into it. I just thought it would be good for you to have something to focus on that isn’t...” She stalls, making a few vague gestures with her hands.

“My failed love life or my non-existent career?” He says and she cracks a smile at his bluntness. 

“Yeah, that.”

“I think it’s a good idea, and you’re right. I can’t just mope around the apartment for the rest of my life.” Oh how he wishes he could. 

“Eddie is kinda hot too.”

“Robin!” He scolds.

“What? I’m gay not blind, Steve.” 

“Alright we are not having this conversation,” Steve decides, hurrying to change the subject. 

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed. Maybe if circumstances were different he’d even consider making a move, but he’s in the midst of yet another failed relationship and the risk of making things awkward with Eddie is too great when the guy is letting them use a space in his property for Robin’s idea free of charge.

She holds up her hands in surrender, “I’m just saying.” 

“Show me those pictures again.” 

She obliges, passing her phone over to show him the two very rough drafts of a logo she has put together. 

“One on the right for sure.” 

“That’s what I thought!” She beams, excitedly taking the phone from him and continuing to tap away at the screen. 

What has he let himself be dragged into?

<Chapter 1 ~ Masterpost ~ Chapter 3>

[ac-goddess-of-destruction]

LOOK OUT FOR THE LITTLE GUY

I've read the book (it's a really nice read, if you have the time and interest to read it, do it. You won't regret it.). Anyway, I've decided to compile all the mentions of Scott and Hope's relationship present in the book for those who won't read it for whatever reason. Warning: This is a LOOONG post (there are two full chapters of the book in here!). ALSO, all the credit goes to the writer(s) and all the people involved in its making. I literally just copied chunks of it and put it.

DEDICATION

TO MY TWO FAVORITE PARTNERS: HOPE AND CASSIE, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!

INTRODUCTION

(Scott fills the readers in on all the events he was present from the first Ant-Man to the Civil War and then Endgame)

“That’s when—thanks to Thanos—half of all life in the universe disappeared. So no, no peace on Earth or anywhere else. I wasn’t around for those five years of missing people (you’ll find out why soon), but I came back just in time, jumped to a different timeline, fought, like, every bad guy in the universe on a field in upstate New York, helped the Avengers stop Thanos, and put all the people back where they belonged. Including, last but not least, putting my precious Hope back together with me!”

REDOS & REDON’TS

“I was five years behind the rest of the world just trying to process it. Then it suddenly got super-personal. As I soon came to learn, my newly adopted family—Hank, Hope, and Janet—were also no more.”

MAKING YOUR HOUSE ARREST…A HOME ARREST

“One advantage of having a house decorated “bachelor-style” is that there’s just about nothing for you to break or stain, and even if you do, no one will care. I didn’t have Hope around to disapprove of my mess (which, I have to admit, gave me a slight twinge of sadness every time I made one). So instead, I leaned in to the other “special girl” [Cassie] in my life and gave her every inch of grubby floor I could.”

[THE FREEDOM PARADOX]

“Under normal conditions, all day long I have nothing but options. I can basically fly (well, at least while riding an ant or catching a ride with Hope).”

Q: Besides having wings, is the Wasp suit the same as the Ant-Man one?

A: First of all, I’m going to pause on that “besides,” because I’ve still never gotten agood explanation from Hank about this obviously glaring injustice! He always mumbles some tech gibberish about “lift/drag issues,” and then suddenly he “has a meeting.”

But there are two main differences between the Wasp and Ant-Man suits that I’m aware of. One are these wrist- mounted gauntlets that can fire powerful blasters, which Hope has used in some key battles. The other difference, which I admittedly don’t fully understand, is a more intuitive—as opposed to manual—control system. Basically, I have to use buttons to change size, whereas Hope can just control this feature with her mind.

This allows her to amplify her strength. And, considering how strong she is at normal size, let me just say: Do not mess with the tiny Wasp!” - FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

ANT, INC.

(Scott is recounting the events of the 1st Ant-Man)

“So Hank started me on regular training sessions with my tiny future colleagues. (For the record, this was already on top of daily, physically exhausting combat training sessions with Hope. But that I didn’t mind as much, because, you know, getting to be with Hope!)”

“To really get through to ants, Hope and Hank had taught me that you have to maintain this extreme, almost meditative level of focus on precisely what you want to say to them.

Easier said than thought!

(...) Fortunately, Hope got to the heart of my problem. She helped me figure out that I couldn’t focus because ultimately I kept thinking about Cassie. So, like the martial- arts master she is, Hope showed me how to turn that from a weakness into a strength: to use that burning concern as a laser beam to focus my intentions, and block out everything else.”

“I climbed out of the mound, dejected and feeling like a failure. Definitely letting that mind of mine wander again, back to all the usual places. Hank is going to send me back to jail. Hope will never love me. I’ll never get to see Cassie again!

When I walked back into the lab, full-sized again, Hank as always had the perfect words for my current state of mind: “What the hell are you doing here?”

Fortunately, Hope was a little more sympathetic. Even though she still had her doubts about me, she also reminded her dad of how his early experiments with the EMP were huge fails.

(...) She counseled me on how to present myself as more than just not a threat—as someone who they willingly followed because I “got them.” Ants, just like people, respond better to direction from someone capable of seeing their perspective.

I hit the shrink button again and climbed back into the Hill, pondering Hope’s challenge.”

ANT-MAN & THE WASP: SECOND DATE, OR SECOND CHANCE?

(Entire chapter)

SOME COUPLES HAVE A “meet-cute.” Some meet online. Many more meet at a bar than is really advisable.

Hope and I had a meet-weird.

And I don’t mean just how, the first time we laid eyes on each other, I was waking up in her father’s bed, surrounded by a brigade of sentry ants prepared to devour me like a giant bread crumb. Or that we got to know each other’s “vulnerabilities” through weeks of brutal martial-arts training. Or that the first time we shared a tear, it wasn’t after an argument or a sappy movie. It was over the death of a half-inch-long insectile colleague named “Ant-thony.” (RIP wherever you are, little guy!)

And the way we originally met…? Let’s just say, how many relationships have you had that began with you breaking into your (future) partner’s dad’s basement to steal a piece of secret technology?

At least there was one way in which our relationship was typical: We had a little “difficult patch” and broke up for a while. But even then, the way we got back together was…okay, once again, weird. I want to share the story with you, because it kind of leads to later events with the Avengers. But one thing I’ve learned about being in a relationship (sometimes the hard way!) is that two different people can experience the same thing together…in two entirely different ways. So to make sure I’m getting the story straight, I’m sitting down with Hope to hear, and share, her take on what happened.

It all started right after our Pym Tech heist, when I was recruited by some Avengers to go fight some other Avengers. (See? It’s not just couples who have breakups.) Unfortunately, in doing so, I kind of borrowed the Ant-Man suit and took it to Germany without asking permission.

Hope has quite a different take on this. As she recounts it, “My father and I had just begun to trust you, and to think of you as someone who could possibly join the tight- knit circle of what we Pym/Van Dynes had devoted our lives to. In my mom’s case, what she’d sacrificed so much of her life for. And besides trust, I was starting to develop some…non-professional feelings for you, too. And then you went and betrayed everything.”

That perspective explains why Hope (and Hank) cut off all ties to me for the next two years while I was put under house arrest for acting as an “unregistered Super Hero” in that intra-Avenger fracas.

Still, you know me! I prefer to focus on the positive. Like Hope’s and my emotional reunion when she came to spring me from house arrest to help her and Hank.

But as before, Hope says she experienced somewhat…different feelings during that reunion. In her words: “Disgust. Did you spend the entire two years in that bathrobe? And also, disgust on a deeper level. Seeing you again, remembering you in Dad’s suit, and what you had done with it, it brought up all kinds of complicated feelings I’d been trying to put behind me.”

Fortunately for both of us (and eventually, the world) Hope doesn’t let any feeling get in the way of a mission. Especially one involving her mother. Janet Van Dyne, wife of Hank, formerly known as The Wasp, had been trapped in the Quantum Realm for decades, but she had recently found a way to contact us. And now we were going to try to find her by going back into Hank’s Quantum Tunnel.

Except to do that, we needed a key component, and the only way we could get it was from this sleazebag underground tech dealer named Sonny Burch. So we set up a meeting with him to buy it. Only, during that meeting, Burch figured out who Hope was and double-crossed her to steal Hank’s lab, which had been shrunk down to the size of a suitcase.

Hope, again, remembers this a bit differently. According to her, “There was no ‘we.’ It was me alone at that skeevy hotel bar with Burch and his cronies, then suddenly I was fighting them off alone, then you showed up too late, then you let that glowing woman named ‘Ghost’ run off with the lab!”

I’m not sure this is a completely fair assessment. But I can see why Hope felt that way, because at that point, she was still very untrusting of me. Our first meetup in two years, and the first thing I do is put her dad’s life’s work in jeopardy—for the second time.

Scott “glass half full of Pym Particles” here again: We got the suitcase lab back!

However, Hope reminds me, “Actually, before that, we got captured by Ghost—who was only going to let us go if we healed her quantum energy problems by killing my mom!”

Obviously, that was unacceptable, so we managed to escape, got the tunnel working again, and even, finally, got into direct communication with Janet Van Dyne. What a relief!

Again, though, from Hope’s POV, “relief” wasn’t what she was feeling. She reminds me that it wasn’t exactly direct communication, as—thanks to a bizarre property of the Quantum Realm—Janet was actually speaking through me.

As she puts it, “Can you imagine anything more disturbing than hearing your long-thought- to-be-dead mother’s words coming out of your ex-boyfriend’s mouth?”

Honestly, I can’t. And I’d really rather not try.

But still, we’d actually found Janet! And now the only challenge was figuring out how we could get into the Quantum Realm to rescue her.

Here, too, Hope remembers a few more complications. “There was also the fact your prison buddies had ratted Dad and me out, getting us arrested by the FBI. Plus Ghost still had my dad’s stolen work.”

Of course, she’s right, and that was a really rough road. I don’t mean to downplay it. I think it was just that, because Hope and I had survived tougher scrapes, my confidence in us—a confidence that I understand she wasn’t quite feeling at that point—was keeping me going.

And this is where I’m really glad I asked Hope to join me for this, because what she says next is a bit of a revelation to me…

“Scott, you don’t know what it was like growing up with Hank Pym as a father…seeing how important all of this was to him…feeling how he lived and died over every breakthrough and setback. And here we were, on the cusp of losing all of it.”

She’s right. I really had no clue about how deeply all this cut for her until now. Both Hope and Hank play things so close to the vest, sometimes it’s hard to see how hard the disappointments hurt them where it counts.

But to get back to the story, I definitely owed Hank Pym a “Get Out of Jail Free” card, so I used some of my old ex-con skills to bust us out of FBI custody. Then we took on Ghost, endured a seemingly endless series of car chases, and battled back and forth for possession of that shrunken lab all the way to San Francisco Bay. That’s where I used the suit to go giant and snatch Hank’s lab back once and for all.

As I talked about briefly before, using Pym Particles to turn gigantic takes a toll. Although I successfully grabbed the (then, to me, minuscule) lab, I also lost consciousness and plunged into the bay—where the World’s Greatest Super Hero rescued me from a watery grave.

Hope seems okay with this description.

Then, after a tiny-hair-raising expedition into the Quantum Realm, Hank managed to get Janet back out. Whew! All’s well that ends well.

Right?

At this point, Hope remains silent for a minute. Then, slowly and carefully, she speaks. “I spent that day in absolute terror about my mom.”

She continues, “And that was on top of all the tough stuff we’d been through. Someone always going to prison. Multiple sociopaths trying to kill us, sometimes at the same time. And then, having my mom come back from what we thought was the dead after three decades? I know I act like nothing fazes me, but it was a lot.”

She’s right. It was. And here’s what I’m telling Hope, and what I also want to tell you, about whatever you’re going through—on the inside or outside. Whether it involves glowing quantum ladies or not:

You don’t have to deal with this alone.

In a strange way, I think that insight might be part of how Hope and I eventually managed to patch things up. I had broken her and her Dad’s trust, massively. But during all this we found a way of connecting again.

You see, Hope didn’t share a lot of what she was going through at the time. In fact, I’m just finding out about a lot of it right now, as I write this!

But as the two of us dove back into the fray together, part of me was working twice as hard to show her how dedicated I was to her and her dad (and mom)—to prove how much they meant to me. I’d like to think that just enough of that “being there 200 percent” got through to her.

And since I don’t see Hope shaking her head “No,” I’ll keep going and conclude with one more thought:

“Being there 200 percent” is something we all can do for each other, no matter what kind of relationship we’re in. Or what relationship we’re trying to mend. I managed to prove to Hope that she wasn’t alone, because I was there—and not going anywhere.

And on this point, Hope says our stories are in perfect alignment.”

SIDE BY SIDE SUPER HEROING WITH YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER

(Entire chapter)

“OKAY, SO NOW HOPE and I were back together, for what seemed like the long haul. Which meant we were now facing one of those paradoxes of life: Sometimes you fight the most with the one you love. But what if you’re also simultaneously fighting Super Villains?

Clearly disregarding the time-tested maxim “Don’t date at work,” I’ve come to appreciate both the perks and pitfalls of this lifestyle.

Confusingly, though, those perks and pitfalls often go hand in hand. To illustrate what I mean, imagine working, very closely and on a daily basis, with the person you’re most attracted to in the world. And then, during that work, seeing them at their very best: strong, steady, steely under even the most terrifying conditions. Always cool-headed and mission-focused. And to top it all off, bringing all those qualities to the service (and usually, life-saving) of others!

Sometimes it takes more than Super Hero strength to not feel overwhelmed by a gusher of love and admiration.

And when you do find yourself with them in a moment of respite, especially if it happens to be in a beautiful location (hey, Super Villains like to get outside sometimes, too), it can get very confusing. Part of your brain is screaming, “Remember why you two are here together,” while another part is murmuring, “Hey, couldn’t we just steal a moment to enjoy this nice place we ended up together?”

To say nothing of those situations when you’re trapped with them in a very small space and are reminded of just how darn good she always smells.

And that’s one of the good problems!

A larger complication in this perpetually unbalanced work-life balance is what I call fighting other battles. Perhaps this rings true in your relationships as well? You’re yelling and screaming at each other over the stupidest thing, and often it’s not until later that you realize that all that rage was not even truly about that thing! It was about a completely different stupid thing that you were annoyed about earlier, but which never got resolved.

The dangerous part is when that pent-up unfought fight spills over into the actual life-or-death one you’re currently engaged in. “Oh, so you can aim that reducing disc right at an oncoming military transport vehicle, but you can’t toss a T-shirt into the laundry hamper?” “Oh, so you’ll take three punches to the head from a mercenary but you’re afraid to try one bite of my world- famous ‘Chili Dog Meatloaf’?”

The good news is, there’s a quick way out of any of these intertwined battles. It’s by reciting a set of words so devastatingly powerful, even Doctor Strange has nothing that competes.

Those magical words? “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Another anxiety I’ve felt in all my relationships, but which takes on a sharper hue on the battlefield, is one I call exposing your true self.

And I don’t mean that alter-ego/secret identity game. Let’s face it: Ever since Tony Stark straight-up announced to the world, “I am Iron Man!” that whole move has lost its subversive cool factor. Nowadays, the only reaction I get from clearing my throat, retracting my helmet, and proclaiming in a deep, rich, dramatic baritone, “I am Ant- Man,” is, “Noted. And would Ant-Man like curly fries with that?”

No, what I’m talking about is revealing your worst traits to the last person you’d ever want to think any less of you.

For me, that worry comes up around the issue of showing fear around Hope. Which I know, on an intellectual level, is just silly. Maybe it’s a hero complex (yes, even actual heroes get them). But for me at least it’s real, and it’s a constant struggle.

And what’s odd is, it’s not really even my biggest problem. I’m fairly proud of the fact that—whether facing down one half of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes or the Universe’s Biggest Threat—I don’t scare that easily. But Hope doesn’t even seem capable of fear. It’s like the woman was born without an amygdala. Or maybe she’s just trained it out of herself, with that same steely drive and determination that first made her a hero and now has made her a business leader.

Either way, the upshot is, when I get even just a little bit scared, I get more scared of Hope seeing me scared. If that was confusing to follow, imagine trying to keep a handle on it in the middle of a fight.

Sometimes in the heat of battle, I can’t help but stop and think, “She likes me?” This usually happens right before I get knocked unconscious.

Another challenge to my sense of combat-time couple zen is temper. When all your senses are locked onto defeating your foe, you don’t have a lot of mental gas left in the tank to choose your words carefully. So what happens when the two of you have a plan, but it’s swiftly going wrong? Or even worse, when the plan is still good but one of you forgot or screwed up their part? And the bad guy is using that advantage to close in!

There was this one time when the two of us were cut off from out resizing controls, a set of mechanical gears were getting to chew up, and Hope felt, correctly, that we could have escaped the situation more easily had I loaded in the magnetized grappling hook rather than the unmagnetized one.

However, Hope chose to express this sentiment in language… so colorful, it informed me that she indeed know a four-letter would besides “can’t.”

Now, in even the most benign situations, the tendency in a couple is to lash out, because you know the other person can “take it”. You feel, as it were, safe.

But in battle, you’re literally the opposite of safe.

And you know that expression “Watch out or you might say something you regret”? In the civilian world, that’s of course great advice, along with “Never go to bed angry.” You really do never know with 100 percent certainty if you might never see a loved one alive again. But for romantically connected Super Heroes, there’s a very high statistical chance this is the very last thing you ever say to them!

Long story short, Hope and I obviously survived that near-metal mastication, as did our relationship. It just takes some getting used to, that idea that you have to fight to preserve both at the same time.

Another layer to that self-consciousness, which might be unique to me but I suspect really isn’t, is that additional meta-fear of letting her dad down. Nowadays I think I’ve proved myself to Hank Pym as a proper heir to the Ant-Man suit. But in a funny way, having earned his approval, now I feel even more anxious about losing even a drop of it. Maybe because it was so hard-won, or maybe because I’m starting to see him as a role model for the kind of hero I want to be.

Now obviously, Hope is in every possible way her own person who makes her own decisions. But somehow, subconsciously, there’s still a part of me that feels like I’m living on a borrowed time. Like one day, I’m going to screw things up too much, and Hank is going to swoop in (likely ferried by a river of ants) and say, “Nope. This phase of the ‘experiment’ is over.”

So that, along with the other stuff, translates into a kind of perfectionism I try to hold myself to all the time, which is completely unrealistic. And going completely impossible to remove from the ongoing soundtrack of “You don’t really deserve this, Scott” that lives in my brain 24/7. Even though I’ve bounced back countless times, there’s a still a live, burning piece of me that sees myself as no more than convict/divorcé/absentee dad. It takes more mental energy than I’d like to quiet that voice, or at least convince it that others don’t see me that way. And when things sometimes go south with Hope, as they do in all relationships, I can hear it shouting, “You see? She knows you’re still no go at the core.”

It also doesn’t help when I remember how happy my ex Maggie is with her new guy. That accusatory voice now switches over and starts asking, “Are you just standing in the way of Hope being much happier with another guy?”

Now the good news is, having lived and loved through this rocky terrain, I’ve found some bright spots as well. One is that Hope and I—like most couples who’ve been together for a while—have a secret language. Shorthand, absurd names, shared references, and inside jokes that can be as helpful in situations with no time to spare as it is annoying when we play Charades with friends. Cracking those jokes can also be critical to boosting each other’s morale in moments when all seems lost. On the other hand, an inopportune but uncontrollable snicker can also be the thing that fatally gives away your position.

Along these lines, we’ve also developed a pretty keen talent for anticipating the other’s move. No, not the way you’re undoubtedly thinking—on the dance floor. There’s no hope for me there. But when we’re locked in combat, even a telepath couldn’t keep up with the speed of our nonverbal communication.

And as unbelievable as it sounds, taking on evil can be a really helpful form of relationship building. Love experts say that for a couple to stand the test of time, they should have an “indoor hobby” and an “outdoor hobby”. Fortunately, when you’re going on high-stakes missions, you often get both of those things in one afternoon.

Heroing it up together also helps with your sense of relationship chill. Put simply, after a long day or week or quantum half-decade of battling baddies, the two of us just come home and collapse of the sofa. Which is heaven. We get to do normal couple things, like disagree over who’s killing the plants faster. Hope gets to let guard down and get extremely, almost frighteningly passionate over who needs to go home from Dating-Show Island. I get to see her actually, atypically, be bad at something. (For example: When we play a video game together….well, let’s just say that Hope would probably better mowing down zombies in real life—not like that would ever happen!)

But the main saving is, we’re just too exhausted to argue about anything. Which I admit doesn’t help with the “unresolved issues” point I made above. But it’s a nice feeling to come home and settle into. It makes out humble, slightly stained sofa feel more secure than even the Raft prison.

And that feeling is just one example of how what Hope and I do together helps us appreciate couplehood. There are soooo many “troubled loners” in our profession, on both the good and evil side, it almost seems like a job requirement.

By contrast, Hope and I balance each other.

She’s calm, I’m alert. She’s sky, I’m earth. She commands, I obey.

But all these perks of being “heroes with benefits” pale next to the biggest one of all. The greatest advantage to being lovers and fighters is that it gives you a true sense of life’s priorities. A lot of the time we Super Heroes don’t exactly see the people we’re saving; we have to just to hold the idea in our heads, abstractly. In our case, we see what’s at stake every moment, and then Hope races me into the house, wins (of course), flashes me that incredibly hard-won half smile, and a light in my heart comes on and recharges all my batteries at once.

Put simply, every day the two of us come back home together, in one piece, is a miracle, a precious gift. The most precious gift, to which no super-power granted by serum or gamma ray or technology could compare.

And when you’ve got that, you are the most literal definition of invincible.”

FROM BEGINNING TO ENDGAME

“Okay, so as I was just recounting last chapter, I wasn’t actually around for the Blip myself. But I got filled in on what had happened by Nat and Cap. And now our next move was to go crash Tony Stark’s cabin in the woods with my idea for fixing things: using the Quantum Realm to bring everyone back.

(…) Then again, what if it didn’t work? What if I unleashed the cruelty of getting everyone’s hopes up in an already unbearable time, only to squash them for good? What if I failed the Avengers—and Hope?

(…) I made a final emotional plea to Tony: “I know you have a lot on the line. You have a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone… very important to me. A lot of people did. And now—now we have a chance to bring her back, to bring everyone back, and you’re telling me that you won’t even—

Tony interrupted, “That’s right, Scott: I won’t even. I can't.””

(Scott is recounting the Battle at the Avengers Compound after Thanos and his Army raid —post Smart Hulk Snap)

“And… could it be? My giant heart skipped a beat at the sight of a very familiar pair of mechanized wings.

Wasp wings.

Our second snap had brought back millions.

And yet at this moment, it took only one of them for me to finally feel like my world had come back. Hope and hope together, a sight so beautiful it seemed to gleam straight into my tinted helmet.”

“To Cap, though, that was just my next assignment. He told me to get the van tunnel working, and they’d get the Stone to me.

(…) And then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Hope was by my side. As always. And suddenly the path felt completely clear.

We gave each other a look, a with one mind we went tiny, and we went for it.”

GO BIG, THEN GO HOME

“I hit the regulator button and BOOM! Big Me. (…) What I didn’t expect was that I would suddenly feel off-balance. I began to teeter, which is the last thing you want when you’re in a position to squash tens of millions of dollars’ worth of equipment plus an amazing woman you really, really want to love you.

Even worse, on the inside I was flailing for emotional balance.

(…) what if I let down Hope, and Hank?”

REGRETS? I’VE HAD A TON

“A lot of people have asked me how I managed to ruin a perfectly good marriage with Maggie. Well, I’ve given this a lot of thought over a lot of time, and I’ve finally come to understand what my biggest mistake was in this case.It was sharing with my life partner everything. Not just my own “plans” regarding VistaCorp. That was more like the final straw in a lot of “strategic miscommunications” on my part.

(…) But then of course I wouldn’t be with Hope.”

“Another bad move buried inside a good move was how I handled the big airport fight in Germany.

Nor—and this is still painful—do I completely regret doing this in secret from Hank and Hope, with equipment I stile from them. In fairness, there was just no way I could have told them. If they were caught and questioned about it—and admitted they knew what I was up to and didn’t stop me—they’d be liable as accomplices. Which would extra piss off Hope because she prefers to think of me as the accomplice.”

ANT ON THE WALL

“Q: Will you marry me?

A: What a sweet note! I’m so flattered, but I’m also still definitely with Hope.

However, I will print this out for the next time we have a fight and she makes me sleep on the Ant-Couch.” – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

FROM ANT TO MAN

“Q: What was the Quantum Realm like?

A: (…)  to be fair, I only spent what felt like five hours there, most of them focusing all my attention on trying to escape and screaming, “HOOOOPE!””  – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

SUNDAY IN THE LAB WITH HANK

(Not LangDyne but so wholesome)

“And then, only then, did Hank Pym drop his ultimate bombshell:

“Actually, son, seems like you’ve picked up on it [using the suit] pretty well, too. Other than Janet or Hope, there’s no one I trust more with my tech.””

“Q: Would you be willing to auction off a date with you for our charity?

A: How flattering! I do like to help out whenever I can for a good cause. I’d love to.

However, just some fair warning: Beyond the fact that I’m still with Hope, I am lousy on a date!”  – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

SIZING IT ALL UP

(The bit Scott is reading at the beginning of Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania)

“What can I say? Sometimes you just get lucky. I’m lucky I met Hope Van Dyne. I think you know who she is by now. She’s taken back her dad’s company. Now she’s using the Pym Particle for global change. A lot of people say they want to save the world. But Hope—she saves it every day. Reforestation. Affordable housing. Food production. She’s not wasting a second.

I still can’t believe it; none of this should have happened. But it did.

One thing I admire most about Hope and her work is how she’s not sitting back, wondering how bad things could have gone differently. She’s taking charge and making change. Hope is racing ahead to fix future things now. She’s moved on in a way that I’m still struggling to do.

And don’t get me wrong: It’s not that I’m trapped in negativity. Sure, our planet will continue to face threats and problems. But on the whole, it’s a pretty good world. I’m glad we saved it.”

(Not LangDyne stuff or references but really nice bits that some people need to hear from someone, even if it is from a fictional character)

“You are in this place and time for a reason, and no one else is. And so—when that next uncertain, unlikely, “impossible” step is revealed to you—I urge you with every particle in my body, Pym or otherwise, to turn that “Why me?” into a “Why not me?””- Chapter “Introduction”

“Well, you know the old cliché “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”?

That cliché wants to force you to create your next move out of what you’ve been given. But there’s one very important word in there that’s often ignored: YOU.

In other words, forget the lemons. Life has already given you a you that’s like no other. And that’s what you’re better off making stuff out of.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“Tears are acidic, which means they dissolve stuff. But not just chemically—spiritually. They don’t dissolve your strength. They dissolve the glue that keeps you sealed into an earlier version of yourself.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“You are so much more than who you “were.”

Especially as you get further away from what shaped you in the past. You aren’t limited by who you are. Or at least the way others describe you.

You are what you can do. To rebuild is to take what you know how to do—no matter how unconventional or questionable that skill might seem to you now—and figure out how to do it differently. How to use it to take your life in a new direction. A better one.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“Maybe this was just the quantum physics talking, but I saw that I was always a different me, depending on when I was observed.

And that—more than any of Bruce’s devices—gave me the clarity to find my way to the right me.

But take it from me: You don’t need to experiment with quantum physics to get that insight for yourself. You already contain so many more versions of you than you can imagine. You just to locate them, accept their benefits and liabilities, and turn those into the best mixture of yous possible. Because that’s the you that the world needs now.

You’ve got it all inside you. You just need to learn to let it out.” – Chapter “Ages Of Lang”

“(…) regret traps us. Introspection frees us.” – Chapter “Regrets? I’ve Had A Ton”

“I want to tell you something important: You, in the exact life you’re right now, can be a hero, too.

(…) you may not have super abilities, but you definitely already have two incredible powers: a heart to care, and a voice to speak out. All you have to do is learn to use them.

First, heart.

(…) A little friendly human interaction—even something as simple as a smile or a compliment on their funny T-shirt—is a way of saying, “I see you, and I don’t take you for granted.”

(…) The good news is, you don’t need Pym Particles to instantly make someone feel bigger. Just like you can use your heart to join forces with the little guys, you can use your voice to join them on the battlefield.

To be clear, I’m not necessarily saying suggesting you jump in and meddle in someone’s life! People’s boundaries are critical and fragile, and they need to be respected.”

(…) We humans have gotten used to ignoring, overlooking, or flat-out denying the signal that says, “I’m in a bad place”, but it’s often in our faces. And there’s no hiding it.

So when you detect that signal, that’s your time to move.

(…) Don’t just go for the “is everything okay?” because that’s the megaphone problem again. It might just trigger them to redouble their emotional armor and retreat further into their lonely smallness.

Instead, try something like, “I’m here if you need me.” Nine times out of ten, they won’t actually take you up on the offer. Honestly, what they’re most likely to pick up on are just those two powerful first words: “I’m here”. Just that reminder, that they’re not alone, can make someone feel like they’re giant enough to the challenges ahead.” – Chapter “Look-Out-For-The-Little Guide”

1.TIME MATTERS

“(…) There is no time but the present! Everything you want to do, everyone you want to be, and everyone you want to be with—chase all that down today!

Don’t wait, because trust me, none of it will wait for you.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)

2.SIZE MATTERS

“(…) We spend so much of our time operating in fear of other people—their judgment, their regard, their powerful emotions. But at the end of the day, they really don’t have the power to make or break us—no matter how they may act when we’re all the same size.

(…) Seeing the world at tiny scale makes a person truly appreciate all the tiny things—the things we too often overlook. It makes me mindful of the infinitude of miracles holding everything we care about together. It’s enough to make me truly grateful.

And trust me: Gratitude can give you more strength and energy than any power source in the galaxy.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)”

3.SIZE DOESN’T MATTER

(…) Never let yourself get defined by anyone else’s notions of how “big” or “small” you are in their eyes. You alone decide your size, with or without a fancy red size-changing button.

And that also means you—and nobody else—are in charge of deciding when to make yourself “big” or “small” in any given situation. Be big when speaking up against an unfair boss, a disrespectful partner, and an unjust government or corporation.

And also: Be small enough to admit fault, as well as what you don’t know or need to learn.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)”

“You never really know which moments of your life will turn out to be the best ones that mean the most. So you might as well embrace all of them!” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“(…) we humans—all humans—have been given this very unique power to mentally liberate ourselves from our present moment. So what do we do with that? That’s the cool part. We’re all ultimately the authors of our own story. Of course I don’t mean we get to determine our own outcome. But we do get to decide something ultimately even more precious:

What every beat of our story means.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“You might say we all have an origin story, and that story is always being told.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“Now just to be clear, having our lives mean something isn’t the same as having it all make sense.

(…) Because what I’ve learned is, it’s not up to other people or forces to “make sense” for us. We have to make it ourselves.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

[emimiiibakery]

Love at the Arcade

──★ ˙ ̟ Synopsis: Kantaro and Kenta are having a date at Akihabara and decide to go to the arcade.

──★ ˙ ̟ Pairing: Mikoshiba Kenta x Misuji Kantaro

──★ ˙ ̟ Genre: Fluff

──★ ˙ ̟ Word Count: 1,331 words

──★ ˙ ̟ A/N: I revived just so I can cross post a fic from my AO3 ? Yeah. Super busy with CETS, so I can’t really write anything huhu. Have fun reading this tho!!

The streets of Akihabara were bustling with people. So many different things to see condensed into one district of Japan. It’s an amazing sight to behold, but the two teens weren’t here to watch the crowd or sight see, no, they were here on a date.

It wasn’t Kenta and Kantaro’s first date, but the multi-colored hair boy couldn’t help but get excited as if it was their first time going out with each other. Everytime they decided to spend time with one another, a lovey dovey happy feeling would always bubble inside both of them. Although the shorter boy would always be more open about it while the taller one opted to keep it to himself.

The two lovers were having snacks at a cute cafe just a little bit off from the center of Akihabara, when suddenly an idea popped into the shorter boy's head. "Ken-chan! Let's take a pic! We look super adorbs!", Kantaro cheerfully said as he reached into his pocket to grab his phone. "You know I don't like taking pictures, right? You could take one of our food instead, it would practically be the same thing", Kenta said not interested in taking any photos whatsoever. "Awh c'mon! Just one! Please? Pretty please!", the shorter boy pleaded using his very best puppy eyes. All the taller boy could do was look away and focus on something else because he knew that he couldn't say no to his boyfriend's pleading eyes. "Tch, fine. Just one though", the green haired boy feigned annoyance. "Yehay! C'mon! Pose like this! And angle your head just a bit higher." the shorter boy said practically bouncing off his seat. Kenta could only snicker at his boyfriend's childish nature when it came to taking pictures.

After the two had finished their snacks and impromptu photoshoot for a single photo, they were off wandering the bustling streets. The lovers walked around hand in hand, not really knowing what to do next. Kantaro considered going to one of the malls located in the district, but they went shopping together not too long ago. As the two were walking the shorter boy suddenly stopped causing the taller one to look at his lover in confusion. "Ah! Ken-chan, I have no idea what to do for this date. Augh! I'm so mad I didn't come up with something before we went out! I'm a failure of a boyfriend!", the multi-color haired boy sighed in utter defeat. "Not really, we ate out didn't we? That's already a good date, but if you want to do something before we go home. Let's go to the arcade? We haven't been to one in a while", suggested the green haired boy to his significant other who's eyes practically sparkled at the idea. "You're right! Ken-chan you're the best! C'mon let's go!", Kantaro said, dragging his lover towards a nearby arcade.

The establishment was like any normal arcade but with the added aesthetic of colorful lighting that changed every few minutes. They had crane games, rhythm games and more scattered between the three floors of the building. The short boy looked around already thinking of the many ways he could use the arcade as his personal photo studio. Before anything could happen, he had to remind himself that his significant other hated taking pictures. Maybe, he could convince him, but he's already used his daily lifeline a while ago. Perishing the thought of taking any cute couple pictures he let out a depressed sigh. "What are you looking so sad for? Anyways, here don't go spending them all on one plushie because you think it's cute", Kenta said snickering as he handed his pouting boyfriend a handful of coins. "I won't! I have self control! Anyways, meet up after an hour?", Kantaro said, stuffing the coins in his pocket. "Sure, I'm gonna head up to the rhythm games. See you", the green haired hacker said as he walked up the stairs to where the other games were located.

"What to play? I'm not really good at arcade games", the multi-colored hair idol said to himself as he wandered the rows of different arcade machines. "Ah, a cute plushie! It looks just like me, but a bunny", Kantaro squealed at how cute the plush bunny was. Ignoring what his boyfriend said earlier he tried his hand at getting the plush. After a couple tries and a helping hand from the kind staff, he was now in possession of the stuffed bunny. "Are there one's that look like Ken-chan? We could get matching ones! That would be so cute!!", he giggled to himself as he skipped through the aisles trying to find a plushie that looked like his boyfriend.

After a few minutes, he found a cat plushie that had the same smirk that Kenta usually wore. "It's. perfect.", Kantaro said as he eyed the stuffed animal. He had his eyes set on that cat plush and he won't be leaving the arcade without it. He kept trying and trying but to no avail, even after the staff helped him. It's almost like it doesn't want to come home to him! How rude! "Hey, didn't I say not to spend all your coins on a plushie?", a familiar voice spoke. "Ah! Kenta, you're back so soon! Well, in my defense it's my second plushie, so!" the shorter boy argued with an innocent smile. "I was looking for you because all the games here are for normies and noobs", the taller boy shrugged. "Anyways, you want this little guy, but you suck at crane games? Lmao '', Kenta said as he leaned on his significant other's back. "I'm not bad! It's just that this cat plushie is so stubborn like you, hmph!" the multi-colored hair boy whined and puffed out his cheeks. "Then, I'll do it. I'll get him for you because you look like you'll cry if you don't get him lmfao", the green haired boy said as he took his lover's place in front of the claw machine.

"WAH! YOU GOT HIM! Thankies!" Kantaro yelled as he held up the cat plush like you would a child. "Here Ken-chan! I was getting him for you! So now we have matching plushies! Adorbs!!", the shorter boy smiled as he handed the stuffed toy cat to his lover and pulled out his own bunny plushie. "Uh huh, yeah thanks. I guess I can see the resemblance", the tall hacker said as he held up the plush. "Ken-chan, face it towards me! I'm gonna do something", the multi-colored hair idol said with a grin. "Okay, but why?", Kenta asked, but still did what his partner told him. "Because! Chuu!!!", Kantaro said as he pushed his bunny plush towards Kenta's cat plush making it look like they kissed. The tall green haired boy could only turn red at his lover's actions. "Hehe we basically kissed!", the short idol said as he repeated the action once more before he got stopped by his boyfriend. Without warning Kenta kissed Kantaro's lips in a chaste kiss. "Ehh?!?", was all the idol could say. "Wouldn't you rather have actual kisses?", Kenta said as his face turned a hue of red reminiscent of a cherry. "You, you! You're so cute! If you wanted kisses you could have said so!", Kantaro said, returning to his cheerful attitude. "It's- it's embarrassing! So get off my case would ya?!?", the young hacker said covering his face from his teasing lover

As the two walked home, the young idol kept teasing his boyfriend about how cute and innocent he is under all that rudeness he shows online. "This date was a success! Not only did we get matching plushies, but I got to see Ken-chan's cute side too!", Kantaro said giggling as he squished the bunny plushie he held in his hand. "Would you let that go already?", Kenta said clearly annoyed at the teasing. At least the date went well, at the expense of Kenta's pride.