#I finished this book a few days ago and the ending was so genuinely terrible that it ruined the whole rest of the book /srs

[benjaminbadger]

I drew Steven Grout from Walking on Glass by Iain Banks. My favourite character from my least favourite book

[bullet-prooflove]

Lake Tahoe Series - Part One: Black Bear Lodge - Manny x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Sledding!

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @theesirenteller @darqchilddaydreamz @wnbweasley @bonni-98 @skyesthebomb @yezzyyae @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee

Set a few years after End of the Line which ties in to a Hank Loza storyline

It’s at Black Bear Lodge in Lake Tahoe that you meet Manny. He’s sitting at the bar in a white sweater, his thumb chasing over the etchings in the crystal tumbler that he holds in his hand as he studies the amber liquid.

You’ve been sitting here for a couple of hours now, finishing up an article you were writing up on Reed Mather, a tattooist that works out of Lake Monster whose use of bold colouring was proving revolutionary in the field.

It’s the reason you’re up here at this time of year, four days after Christmas. The truth is you have nowhere else to be. You have no family; your friends are all settled, and you can’t stand the idea of another seasonal blind date. The people in your life, they’re well-meaning but they don’t understand that being alone, isn’t the same as being lonely. You enjoy your own company; you’re not looking for a relationship. You enjoy the freedom you have to travel, to explore.

You’ve got another three days booked in the Lodge, you’d splashed out on one of suites with a jetted tub and planned to spend a couple of hours soaking. It’s when you close your laptop that a drink appears in front of you, you pick it up surveying the amber liquid before raising it to your lips and taking a sip.

It’s smoky and warm on your tongue, the heat flowing through your chest as you meet Manny’s gaze across the bar. He smiles before tipping his glass towards you and you smile back.

That’s how it starts this thing between the two of you.

A glass of top shelf whiskey on a Chesterfield couch, laughing so hard that your ribs hurt.

“So, what brings you here?” You ask him, drawing your legs up underneath you. Your arm comes to rest on the back of the couch, the sleeve of your jumper riding up towards your elbow. Manny’s fingertips trail across your bare skin, sending a rush of anticipation chasing through your synapses.

“My daughter.” He says softly, the edges of his mouth turning up into a small smile. “She’s always wanted to go sledding and we don’t get much snow up in Yuma. We went to that place further up, Heavenly Lake.”

“I bet she loved it. I’ve been up there a few times; it turns out I’m terrible at winter sports.” You tell him and he laughs, it’s such a rich, genuine sound, that you feel all the way down to your bones.

“Yea I discovered the same thing.” He confides. “My daughter took to it like she was born to do it. We had a lot of fun together on the sleds but everything else…”

He shakes his head.

“I’m not made for the cold weather. Her mother, my ex, picked her up this afternoon and I’m kinda at a loose end tonight.”

You turn your hand over and his thumb smooths over your underarm, tracing over the tattoo of a laurel wreath on your wrist. The one you you’d gotten after you’d won an award for your photography collection ‘The Ancient Art’ – documenting different tattoo methods throughout the world.

“I know this work.” He says, before his eyes flicker up and meet yours. “Hank Loza out of Santo Padre.”

“He’s done all my tattoos.” You tell him and you see Manny’s interest pique, his gaze straying to the contours of your navy-blue sweater. You imagine his hands straying underneath it, ghosting over the tattoos that decorate your body. He wants to see them, you can tell.

“The Tattoo Journalist.” He recalls, teasing over the leaves etched into your skin. “The two of you used to be a thing.”

“A couple of years ago.” You tell him, watching as his fingertips trail across your palm. “He’s settled now, has two kids with a lovely woman called Maggie.”

His fingers caress yours before they settle within the grooves, entwining. The silver stacker ringers you wear upon your fingers clack against his own.

“No lingering feelings?” He questions and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He needed someone more present and that just wasn’t me.” You tell him honestly, cradling your glass of whiskey to your chest.

“Ah.” He says, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s the reason my marriage fell apart, I wasn’t very present. I’m a good father, a decent President but a shitty husband. We co-parent and she’ll always be the mother of my child but…”

“Sometimes two people just aren’t right for each other, no matter how much you try to make it work.” You say and he smiles that handsome smile of his before he brings your hand to his mouth.

His gaze is heated when he looks at you, you can see his desire simmering in his eyes as his lips brush over the hollow of your wrist.

“You wanna get out of here?” He murmurs against your skin. “Continue this someplace else.”

“Yea.” You say, setting your glass of whiskey down on the table. “I think I do.”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[crazy-loca-blog]

I thought about sharing what's been my view during the last few days... I can't believe how much I needed to leave the big city for a while, my stress levels have mostly gone and the only reason I think I won't get rid of the constant exhaustion it's because I won't have enough days to sleep and fully recover! 😂

Anyway, I'm not dead, I'm here, and I so want to have time to read all your wonderful fics and stories, but as I've been so exhausted, the moment I try to pick anything to read I start falling asleep and it sucks (it's not that your stories are boring, it's just that I'm too tired! 😂).

During my time out I've managed to read some Choices' chapters though. And of course, I have some opinions no one asked for (but I need to share them anyway):

ALPHA is EVERYTHING Wolf Bride should have been. It was such a fun reading! But let me tell you, I'm going to need many answers in Book 2, Book 1 left too many unsolved questions.

I also managed to read THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY. My biggest issue was that I didn't understand certain dialogues and attitudes because they weren't consistent with the game I was playing. I ended up restarting the book and that's when I realized that if you don't pick any diamond scenes until the story forces the MC and the LI to hook up, everything makes much more sense. I mean, the book is still awful (especially the ending... that was so "wtf?!?"), but at least now I kind of understand what I read.

The last book I finished was SHIP OF DREAMS. It's not a terrible book, it's not a mind-blowing book, it's OK. I can't compare it to the Storyscape story because I never read that one, but I honestly didn't expect the plot to be different to the movie, so no surprises there. The amount of smut was completely unnecessary, I think it ruined a lot of moments, especially because the characters in the book had very nice personalities that could have been further developed: both the nice guys and the villains were on point. The ending? Disappointing, as it didn't solve one of the big conflicts in the book.

Right now I'm reading UNBRIDED. Man... what did they do to Mandy? By the end of Untamable, she was the LI of my MC's brother, and then suddenly she becomes a LI for my new MC? It took a lot of chapters to understand what had happened between the end of Book 1 and the beginning of Book 2. Awful move! That should have been explained at the very beginning of the story! I also hate, hate, HATE the fact that you can't be a genuinely nice person without having some romance involved. Most of the time there is no choice and that makes me feel super limited in my game. Finally, I don't understand why the MC is so scared of telling everyone her secret. I didn't expect to get a good book here, but even if the story makes sense, I'm so limited in my choices that I end up feeling I can't play the book the way I want to and that kind of ruins the experience.

Anyway, I hope to be able to return to this little corner soon. I miss being here, but the constant exhaustion is not helping. I can't even keep up with all Choices' releases as I used to as I fall asleep mid chapter, so I'm reading books that have at least 10 chapters completed and that's kind of working better at the moment. I miss my life from a few years ago, where I was tired, but I had time to share stuff here. I'm on my way to fix it, but I really need my body to cooperate for it to work! 😅

[ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense]

Hi everyone! A few days ago I posted my rankings for all the films in the Infinity War Saga of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Having never seen any of these movies in full before this moment outside of Spider-Man: Homecoming and Guardians of the Galaxy, this was a very fresh experience and one I can now thoroughly say I really enjoyed! It may have had its ups and downs, but overall this part of the MCU left us with some incredible movies, characters, chemistry, and scenes that will likely inspire creators for decades to come just as their comic book counterparts inspired their own creation. I am really glad I started and finished this project and while I’ll be taking a hiatus before continuing onward, I can safely say I am now a certified MCU fan.

BUT LETS BE REAL Y’ALL WANNA SEE ME BE A HATER SO LETS GET INTO IT WITH OUR BOTTOM 5 SHIT LIST:

1. Dr. Strange

Interestingly enough the at top of this list is the worst superhero in the Infinity Saga. Dr. Strange is a terribly boring slog wherein Benedict Cumberbatch plays the character that Tony Stark haters think Tony Stark is. Annoyingly smug, terrible chemistry with everyone around him, an absolute bore, and a morally questionable at best protagonist. Throughout this whole movie I’m really meant to care that he’s slowly getting over his hands never being able to work the same again, but because this man is nothing but boring and insufferable every time he opens his mouth I could honestly care less what happens to him.

Tilda Swinton is here giving the least with her performance as Sorcerer Supreme but I can hardly blame her because this movie has no idea what to do with her. Same with Wong, who feels like he’s supposed to be the funny sidekick but gets such little to do and say that you forget he’s in the film at all.

The plot is barebones and devoid of engaging character interactions or cool and endearing scenes of Dr. Strange doing cool shit. Instead we focus on some CGI mirrorverse shit which isn’t cool enough to save a 2 hour spiral of muck.

The only thing keeping this at the top of the shitpile and not further down is the final fight scene being pretty clever and the final talk Tilda has with Stephen being pretty okay. It’s no Frigga and Loki or Frigga and Thor but it’ll do in a pinch. Still doesn’t salvage a movie so boring that Nathan and I spent the latter half of it pretending that Dr. Strange was writing letters to Santa Claus to keep our spirits up.

2. Thor

You know Thor: Dark World gets a lot of shit hurled its way and don’t get me wrong it’s entirely deserved shit that movie is needlessly grey and edgy and lame and everything else that’s already been said. But at the end of all things I can still tell you that the scene of Loki being a total mess in his prison cell after realizing that he got his mother killed is genuinely well written and the only time Loki has been a boon for this franchise.

I can’t say the same thing about Thor which was so forgettable and had such little going on that I don’t remember a single scene from it. Thor is boring, Loki is boring, the Frost Giants are lame looking and barely in it, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three are so nothing that I think they legit forgot Lady Sif was part of them by the time they reached Ragnarok, and the plot is so blah that the only thing people remember is a one off gag about Thor breaking a coffee cup. And I say one off because “God learns how Earth works” gets to be a fun idea for that scene and never again.

And now, a series of disjointed musings

Why make Jane a scientist instead of a nurse in this version if you’re going to contrive a older white man scientist who actually does all the science?

Did you know Hawkeye gets introduced in this movie? He has about as much significance as he does in the first half of The Avengers so I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot.

Dr. Selvig being such an important character to this series is so ironically funny I think I might actually be mad at Endgame for not having him appear through one of the portals.

Kat Dennings doesn’t even get to show cleavage.

Boy Loki sure gets to do less than nothing and be boring and annoying. Hope this isn’t a trend that continues because if it does then fans were really stupid for hyping him up.

This movie is lame.

3. Ant-Man and the Wasp

This one is actually really simple. The first Ant-Man is an incredibly sweet little flick where Paul Rudd gets to charm bomb us into loving Scott Lang and Michael Penya’s silly antics and Scott’s earnest love for his daughter carry us the rest of the way.

In this movie Hank Pym and Hope Pym will mercilessly attempt to ruin Scott’s life by getting him near put away for 20 years where he’ll never see his daughter again because (lemme check my notes) the grown adult is sad that her parent disappeared as a kid and wants her back…we gonna do anything with the Pym’s being selfish towards Scott and near putting his daughter through the same thing Hope went through for their own family with no regard for his feelings while sporting a callous attitude the whole time? No? They’re supposedly justified because Scott Lang got arrested in the Ant-Man suit for helping Captain America? The correct decision by Marvels standpoint? Hm. Interesting.

Oh also this movie has a villain…I think her name was Ghost.

Moving on!

4. Spider-Man: Far From Home

Maaaaaan I hate when I gotta dislike shit I was rooting for.

I’ll be honest, I have mixed feelings about the MCUs Spider-Man. On the one hand Tom Holland is a great casting pick, I love the younger age, and Homecoming has a lot of great stand out moments. I even like some of the Tony stuff-Tony being Peter’s Uncle Ben is genuinely creative and lends a lot more emotion to his relationship with Peter. On the other this franchise doesn’t wanna let Peter cross a street without pondering for 20 minutes about what Tony would do and every villain he ever fights revolves around Tony and Tony Tony Tony Tony.

I want this Peter to be able to stand as strongly on his own as the other Spider-Man’s of the past, but the MCU refuses to let him off the training wheels and just give him his own movie.

Case in point: Tony is dead and this movie is somehow more about Tony than any other Spider-Man thus far. And when we’re not talking about Peter “being Tony Jr. or maybe not or maybe yes and no” we’re quirking an eyebrow at the fans of the series and scoffing about how they dared hope that Mysterio was gonna be fuckin Mysterio. I’m not a comic or spider-man cartoon person and I found it obnoxious.

The final fight is boring and all the drones feel like their made of glass and there’s just an infinite amount of them and Jake Gyllenhaal is a charm vacuum and there’s a weird joke about Peter hiring a prostitute that makes me uncomfortable and the more I sit on it the more I’m just disappointed that Peter Parker played by Tom Holland has not had a single movie where he can just be Spider-Man on his own. It’s insecure and sad. Just like every attempt this movie makes at going “Come on guys! How laaaaaame would it be if the villain was just magic? Multiverse? Cringe! Am I right, youths?”. I’ll get into more in the next entry, but false confidence masking major insecurity is the fastest way to dump a movie at the bottom of my list.

Luckily for this movie it still has enough good will with Tom Holland being charmingly awkward and Nick Fury (even if not the real Nick Fury) having an appearance that it narrowly escapes the bottom.

Well

That and the other thing.

5. Thor: Ragnarok

So this is the one that a majority of people are surprised about.

“Oh my gosh how is this so low? How is this below Thor: Dark World? This is so your kind of movie!”

Taste is a tricky thing for people. It feels so basic and easy to understand, but tastes are more complicated than we care to admit and that means they’re easy to fuck up and misunderstand. Everything on the surface of Thor: Ragnarok feels like something I SHOULD really like. It’s bright, it’s got a BIPOC lesbian, Thor is silly, we’re having a goofy time with the villains, there’s an interesting theme about family and finding yourself. Hell the movie is directed by Mr. What We Do in the Shadows which I notoriously adore (the TV adaptation of)

But here’s the thing: It’s all fake. It’s an unbridled fake confidence hiding indecision and insecurity. I’ll be honest, I was looking forward to this one. After being let down time and time again by Thor being so miserably uncompelling as a protagonist, and his villains being boring and forgettable, and his plots being threadbare and constantly retreading old ground-this should have been my thing.

I mean, I loved the Team Thor shorts they released! They were funny and delightful and very Taika! So why isn’t this movie?

Every joke that feels Taika is shot like it wants to be anything else (which as fans of Taika’s work know the camerawork and shots are what makes the typical joke of his), Thor is just as bland as ever but has a one off gag or two that were Ad libbed or actively fed to him by a make a wish kid so he’s “quirky” now, Hulk is here but they still have no fucking clue what they wanna do with him or Bruce so he’s just kind of taking up screen time.

I want Tessa Thompson to be so fucking cool and instead she’s barely given anything to fucking do except be an alcoholic with trauma. I want Kate Blanchett to be a awesome villain and instead she’s so fucking boring the only thing I can remember is that she does that dumb little hair fade to helmet shit like 9 times. The Warriors Three are all just kinda murked off and they cared so little they don’t even bring up Lady Sif and in fact the way Thor talks about Valkyrie implies that she doesn’t exist! They want to so hard to forget all the previous Thor movies but have nothing to add in a way that matters.

It wants to be important. But it wants to be forgettable. It wants to be bright. But it wants to be washed out. It wants to have deep characters. It doesn’t want you to think about the characters too hard. To paraphrase The Phantom Tollbooth: “When it’s someplace, it wishes it were someplace else. And when it’s someplace else, it’d rather not be there.”

It’s so focused on what it’s not that it never becomes anything.

People say Thor: Ragnarok is bright-but it’s colors are still just as washed out as any other Thor movie. The only difference is it’s a white smear over the lens instead of a black one. Just like the rest of this movie. Just as smudged and flawed and awful to sit through, but with a slightly different filter of terrible.

At least the first Thor was early. It was before they knew what worked. At least Dark World tried. It did terrible but it wanted to make amends for the first Thor being boring as sin. This movie is more than happy to dance around like it’s the golden child of three very unfortunate triplets, and it smirks with confidence as it stumbles just as badly as they did but without the excuses and while smacking it’s brothers for their blunders. I don’t have patience for false confidence.

HOWEVER,

All of this! All. Of. This. I could also say I felt about Far From Home. In fact, I should arguably hate it more because I love Spider-Man and honestly don’t have strong feelings about Thor. So why this and not Far From Home at the bottom?

I sat through:

Thor

Avengers

Thor: Dark World

Thor: Ragnarok

Four movies. Four appearances of this character. A character I was routinely told was sooooooo good and soooo fun and soooooo babygirl.

And every. Single. Appearance. Is the same fucking thing.

Tom Hiddleston does his best to be charming when he can’t be, and begs the audience to think he’s nuanced as he flits back and forth between hero and villain.

“I betrayed my family. Actually I changed my mind. Actually changed my mind again. Oops killed my mom. Sad now. I’m gonna be a good guy and try to fix this. Changed my mind I’m an asshole. Now I’m a hero. Now I’m a villain. Now I’m a hero. Now I’m a-“ until the moment Thanos crushes his windpipe in Infinity War.

I was more than sick of it by Thor: Dark World, but thought that after having that really good scene where he realizes that only he is to blame for his moms death and how much he does, in fact, care about his brother, that finally I would get to see this great character everyone creamed over during these movies release. That after this terrible excuse for “development” this character might finally be worth his time on screen!

And then Ragnarok came out.

And that’s why this is the worst one! Goodnight everybody!

[spacevixen2024]

Twenty Questions for Fanfic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13 works. I know, unlucky for some!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 399,235

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mass Effect Trilogy

In the past, I've written Stargate Atlantis, NCIS, and X Files under a different penname on FF.net.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

From The Ashes - Book Two (59 Kudos)

A month after the events of Phoenix Rising, Major Kaidan Alenko remains in command of the Normandy, while the crew find a way to bring Commander Shepard back from the brink.

Phoenix Rising - Book One (46 Kudos)

In the aftermath of the war, the crew of the Normandy struggle to comprehend the loss of their commanding officer. Major Kaidan Alenko is thrust into a role he is not ready for, and he has to do it while mourning the woman he loves.

Fast forward six weeks, Commander Faith Shepard is found alive but drastically changed, with significant memory loss that erases her recollection of the Reapers and other critical events. There's no logical explanation for her survival, hinting at something more sinister.

A Soft Place To Land (35 Kudos)

Takes place during Mass Effect 3: Citadel.

Miranda and Shepard decide to unwind with a girls' night out at the Silver Coast Casino. The evening is filled with laughter, a few too many drinks, and Shepard letting her guard down in a way she rarely does. By the time they leave the casino, Shepard is decidedly worse for wear, much to Miranda's amusement.

Miranda delivers a very tipsy Shepard to Kaidan, who is waiting patiently at her new apartment.

Don't Give Up On Us (27 Kudos)

Kaidan Alenko and Shepard have a major disagreement following the events of Desponia aka Kaidan had to know what he was signing up for when he returned to Normandy. Or did he?

In Their Own Words (Shenko Drabbles) 27 Kudos

To keep my mind fresh on days I don't have enough time to write, I'll be using a random word generator to give myself ten minutes to write.

100 words based on Shenko (how could I not??)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love feedback and genuinely knowing if someone is enjoying the work.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Most my current stuff is angst, although will be shying away from that into more action for Book 3 of my Faith Shepard series. I would have to say Phoenix Rising...so far.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Book 3 will be the happiest but it's work in progress.

So until then it's Save A Horse, Ride A Canadian which is set years from the events of my trilogy. Some might call it spoilers, I call it HOPE!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Had someone complaint that my slow burn was *gasp* slow.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I am new to smut, but now have a fair few. I have done mostly M/F stuff but I did write an interesting threesome. I am definitely getting more comfortable writing it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't written any yet, but the ideas are bouncing around.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Who the fuck would steal my unhinged dribbles?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but I'd definitely be up for it.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

My first OTP was Mulder/Scully way back in the day. These days, Shenko both MShenko and FShenko have my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have firm belief that they were all be completed at some point.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Angst? Is that a strength?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Happy endings?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am terrible at languages.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

X Files nearly 25 years ago!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Definitely my Faith Shepard series. It's come a long way since a planned fic of only ten chapters. I am super proud of it and the friends I have made within the ME fandom!!!

[icharchivist]

I haven't played Dragon Age before btw but I think Veilguard looks really interesting. I hope I can get into it despite being a complete beginner

oh damn

I hope you can too.... from experiences while th DA games clearly follow heavily on one another, the fact each entry has it's own protagonist, they usually use it to really go "we can't assume you know what happened previously so here's a run down". I've seen people who never played the previous games get fully entranced by da2 or dai, and i have no doubt da4 will do the same on that regard, so if this is the way you want to go about it, i'm sure the game will be accomodating. and the game does look a hell of fun.

Personally i think it's a terrible idea but i'm also a person who has been living those past 8 years on the incredible high DAI's ending left me on with its major plot twist that literally changed everything, all while actually having been set up for all 3 games that going back to any of the prev game is a treat in term of treasure hunts of how "everything was there all along, we just didn't know any better" and genuinely i'd be saddened by people being introduced by the twist /first/ when the games have set this beauty up in 3 games.

The current promo cycle revealed also very early 20mins of the gameplay (not the very beginning and it skips around on a few scenes, but it's basically huge part of the prologue), and they will throw you into it right away (and there's no way it won't spoil the prev game, like, at all lmao), which is... so exciting as a long time fan, but is going to be a lot of biased exposition dump too.

("biased" bc the person who's going to fill you in on the situation has a history with the character it's about as well and the chara in question is so incredibly built through all of DAI and is such a nuanced, interresting character, that describing him in a few sentences is. very likely to get you the wrong idea about him. *mumbles* not like playing DAI has ever stopped people from being wrong about him, but,)

(Because yeah also 2 major characters/companions from da2 and DAI have been confirmed to coming back, as well as one of the most detailled secondary characters from DAI becoming a companion in DA4, so there's a lot of history there. The concept arts also teased a lot of returns from possible DAO, DA2 and DAI characters as well.

Not to mention they also confirmed the protagonist of DAI is coming back for a considerable portion of the game to "finish their story with [one of the major character of DAI (and possible romance option) that is going to be super important in DA4]" and has been mentioned to have a significant part to play/that sometimes you'll have to play them.)

But hey i'm talking from the place of someone who spent the last 8 years replaying the three games so often i have 700 hours on the first game, 600 on the second, and nearly 1500 hours on the third one (i've been replaying it those past few weeks, i'm 130 hours in and i am still "early" ish in the plot lmaoooo, and i already planned to replay the game when i'm done.), and have diven into everything the saga has to offer, from books to comics to movies to TV shows and webseries.

(speaking of TV shows, Dragon Age: Absolution on netflix was released a couple years ago and it was a great entry. It also has spoilers from DAI but if you decide to still going on with playing DA4 despite that, you can also watch DA:A to see if the universe compeels you to get deeper into. The show is short, 6/8 episodes? And the full cast (aside from Fairbanks being a big npc on dai and the cliffhanger refering to prev games as well) are new characters so the story can work as a stand alone thanks to that. and it's 2D animated, it's lovely)

point is i'm fully biased and the one thing that thrills me more than anything else about the game is really just rereading the pages of lore and seeing how they connect, so while to me the twist is 100% worth discovering in full, it's also just /my/ concern personally.

(and i can't even begin to touch on the specific high i've been on for the past month by the fact the trailer + gameplay showcase already went on to confirm theories i've been having for /years/ and there's a specific type of high that comes from "oh my god i picked that up!!! i did!!!! holy shit!!!" that would be lost on a new player who's introduced to it right away)

but it's MY way of experiencing DA and i think if you want to go into da4 first, esp since the other games are intimidating in some way (and god knows i've tried to drag ppl into DA and they all ditched early in DAO because DAO has some slow gameplay and some slow built before really hooking you in, so while i can't relate i know it's a deal breaker for some people when i say "no please start from the start"), i'm sure you'll still be on for a treat and everything.

If you end up getting into da4 without playing the other games, if you have questions my inbox is opened. I tend not to talk about DA much on main bc i can't stand the fandom esp on here and don't want them to find me at all (which is why every single of my completely unhinged rantings about DA have been confined to private conversation with friends and spamming my private twitter account i mostly have my IRLs on), but at least in term of lore clarification i should be able to help o7

anyway sorry lots of thoughts about it but i've been thinking about it a lot lately especially as i'm replaying DAI and i'm constantly crying just playing exploration phases because i'm just so enamoured with the way the game saga grew and rewards you for caring yaknow? and how as happy as i am people are interested in DA4 because i do want the game to do well and personally i feel in every fiber of my body that it's going to be a blast, but it saddens me to think the whole saga and the way the twists and turns affected one another will not be experienced fully by newcomers.

but again. ranting of a raving fan, and the game itself will surely ease you through it, so don't mind me too much about it.

I genuinely can't wait, my brain has been only DA for the past month.

happy it got your interest though <333

[treesap-blogs]

GUYS IM BACK! with another review(I know it’s not saturday shhh!), this time of “when the moon was ours”!

Hello, Tumblrians! I’m back. After a couple months. Life happened. Well, to be exact, death happened(rip Dad, 1964-2023)(someone better not use that against me in an online argument), and I was in a terrible space to the point where blogging felt like an obligation and a chore meant to worsen my depression. I’m back, though! I missed being on here more than I’d like to admit. I wish I could say when I’ll start posting consistently, but the truth is that I’ll continue to get busier and my mood fluctuates frequently. 

No, it’s not a Saturday or Sunday, but I didn’t feel like waiting for that point! So.

The first book I read after everything kinda unfolded was Blanca & Roja by Anna-Marie McLemore, but I already have my thoughts on that posted on Bookstagram, so I’ll just link my profile instead of regurgitating my thoughts here.(I usually keep things mostly positive there, and share about books I loved and/or others recommended to me!) One thing I did not say in the review, however, was that sometimes the characters had a tendency to say descriptors that were either similar or the same word-for-word in other chapters, which was kinda annoying. There was a specific galaxy? star? metaphor that was used once in Blanca’s POV and another time in Roja’s, which I guess was there for cinematic parallels but just felt repetitive instead of clever. Overall a pretty great book though and I liked the POV distribution(flowed a lot smoother than another McLemore book with multiple POVs, Dark & Deepest Red). 

I suppose while on the topic of Anna-Marie, I’ll move on to another book they wrote! I don’t think I’ve reviewed “When The Moon Was Ours” on here, but it was the second book of theirs I’d read, and I loved it! (Even though that was months ago when I did read it.)

“When The Moon Was Ours” is a 2016 novel written by Anna-Marie McLemore, following two third-person perspectives of a trans boy named Sam(ir), and his close friend-slash-lover, Miel. The two of them met when they were both little, and Miel unexpectedly came out of a rusty water well being taken down. Being scared and frightened by this new environment, Sam became Miel’s first companion and someone she first trusted(before being taken into the care of a young woman named Aracely). Both Miel and Sam have been the subjects of their town’s folklore: Miel’s mysterious origin, combined with her ability to generate roses on her wrist, made her rumored to be a witch. Sam, by proxy, has been looped into that. Present day, the three Bonner sisters(I don’t remember their names, but I remember they were nicknamed “Las Gringas Bonitas”) are hoping to take advantage of Miel’s abilities for their own gain, forcing her to make three roses for them(one for each girl) under the assumption their scent will make boys fall in love with them. In order to get Miel under their control, they’re determined to use every possible secret against her, including Samir’s past.

This story was one of a few novels I read in roughly under a day, for a multitude of reasons: I tend to binge-read books with difficult subject matter or harsh events so I don’t have to stick with them much longer, and I also remember being very entranced in the writing. Finishing it wasn’t an obligation, it was something I genuinely wanted to do and I was so wrapped up in Samir and Miel’s story that I read to the very end to see how all the events played out. The prose was beautifully written, and I thought both Miel and Samir’s arcs were engaging. With that said though, it’s a) been a while since I’ve read this book, so I don’t fully know to the extent that prose might have become repetitive, b) Anna-Marie McLemore has a writing style that’s very hit-or-miss, something I’m familiar with as a fan who’s read six of their books by now. Some think it’s lush, others think it’s a little too flowery. But here, I felt that style added to the unconventional, sometimes “fucked up fairytale” feel of their magical realism. (Which I think is an interesting thing to note, considering that McLemore’s written retelling and also takes inspiration from fairy tales from their childhood for their fantasy/magical realism writing!)

Also, just something I noticed: this is one of a few books I’ve read with names for chapters! Very cool. More books should do that.

Spoiler Section from here until the end of the review!! Tread carefully(or avoid entirely), if you do want to read.  

To start, Samir being transgender is an integral part of the plot, which is why I mentioned it in my summary: Yes, I could include that one aspect of that is the harassment and bullying Samir faces because of his identity as a trans boy(his deadname is even used as blackmail by the Bonner Sisters). But he is also coming to terms with him being a boy. Samir’s cultural background involves a tradition called “Bacha posh”, in which girls can spend a period of their life presenting and dressing as boys in order to be the breadwinners for their families or to get more opportunities. The girls are still cis in these cases, but being recognized as male gives them more opportunities and freedom, hence why families with no sons do it. There’s a timeframe for this, though: once the girl reaches puberty, she transitions back to living in female gender roles, which is not always easy to do. (For context, Samir is Pakistani, but I understand that bacha posh is an Afghan tradition. I’ll have to go back and reread the author’s note or possibly parts of the book to see if this was addressed..?) (EDIT, 9/29/24!: I’m stupid, Samir is mixed.) Samir volunteered to become a bacha posh for his family after finding out about the practice, and as a result thinks that the reason for his discomfort in “going back” to living as a girl is due to that, not because of being transgender(even though long past the start of puberty, he presented as male). 

And while Samir’s arc is a difficult one to read because of the oppression he faces, both as a Pakistani boy and a transgender one, I remember really liking how his gender identity was presented in the narrative. Sure, it may take him a while to realize himself, but his loved ones(such as his mother and Miel) already know him as one. (There was also a moment where another transgender character recognized his internal struggles and tried to connect with him on that! Kinda..sucks that Samir being in denial and it being an emotionally intense climactic moment meant that didn’t really get to go any deeper, though.) His gender dysphoria was also realistically depicted, in my opinion. While I wish there were more opportunities for transgender joy in the narrative, I still think he was good representation in that regard.

Something I liked was that there was also a consistent air of mystery throughout the book. Part of Miel’s strangeness comes from her vaguely-remembered appearance all those years ago, and Aracely’s just as sudden one. Plus, there’s…whatever the hell is going on with the Bonner Sisters. That’s part of what kept me drawn in, but there were some…just as strange magical conclusions to those plots! Which I vibed with in the case of Miel and Aracely because I liked the possible symbolic interpretation(and..I’m not boring, I like weird sometimes), but with the Bonner girls, it felt like there was an attempt to make a meaningful, even beautiful ending for them. I do not think those three deserved that, considering what they subjected Miel and Samir to(emphasis on Miel, because she’s being taken captive by them and all, but it’s equally sucky they decided to use Samir’s deadname as ammo). 

I also just had a lot of questions about the Bonner sisters after I read the book?? Like..were they even people, this entire time, or was the magicked away thing just another part of them letting go of the mortal realm and moving on from the pressure put onto them by their family? (So was that also more symbolic?) How are we supposed to feel about them?? Miel is able to connect with the youngest one in the end, and if I’m not remembering incorrectly, kind of has a moment of forgiveness with them..? Again, considering everything they put both Miel and Samir through(like..they were literally in danger), I don’t feel it’s deserved. It feels too pretty of an ending, like they didn’t get enough repercussions for their actions. 

Last point I’ll make! I haven’t talked much about Samir and Miel as a pair/romance. While I didn’t mind them being pre-established, and I think they’re compelling as individual characters, I wish their relationship had more time to be fleshed out. Although my first impression of their romance was positive and I rooted for them, my thoughts have kind of shifted since that time period(evident when comparing my Goodreads review to this one, if any of you follow me there)! There was also a miscommunication problem throughout the book, which was, granted, also a huge part of Miel and Aracely’s dynamic, but it was also present in the main romance(to my annoyance). Which ended up bringing my attention to a prevalent cliché in McLemore’s books! It goes something like this:

Some issue in the plot means that two characters cannot be in a relationship together, lest they jeopardize themself and/or their partner. Feminine-presenting character says to masculine-presenting character they cannot be together, but does not elaborate on the true reason why, and just blames it on not having romantic feelings for them. Masculine-presenting character is devastated but reluctantly accepts this breakup. The two spend some time apart or not as a couple, until even with the current circumstances, the feminine-presenting character can’t manage to be without their partner and goes to both apologize and continue the relationship.

Other books I’ve read in which this happens: Dark And Deepest Red(Lala and Alifair), Lakelore(Lore and Bastián, although it’s more emotional stakes than physical, and Lore’s gender expression varies), Wild Beauty(Estrella and Fel). I have Venom & Vow on my TBR, and I hope it does not also go to that trope because I don’t want to have to deal with that conflict again. It's tired, and I don’t know why it’s so prevalent across Anna-Marie McLemore’s books. I mean, I get the stakes, but…deciding the one way to go about things is to just say you don’t love the other person to make them go away? Feels a little unnecessarily devastating.

End of spoiler section!

Hello, to those who didn’t feel like getting spoiled! I’ll summarize my thoughts without going into detail: I didn’t like how the Bonner sisters(the antagonists of the story) were written and resolved, miscommunication was prevalent in this book and kind of annoyed me(additionally agitating, considering a specific kind of miscommunication present in the book is a McLemore trope), and I liked Samir as trans representation.  

Although there’s a fair share of flaws within this book, I still liked it and recommended it to some people a while back. But thinking back on a few things, I’ve lowered my rating down from a 4.75 ⭐.

Book rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5 stars. Content/trigger warnings: Child abuse(described), racism, suicide(attempted, on-page), transphobia.

~Paz, signing off!

(Follow me on Bookstagram! I post books I love/like, which I won’t post here so I’m not redundant:

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Heyheyhey!! Can i request manager birthday and the team forget about it for seijoh, inarizaki, and shiratorizawa bcs tomorrow ma birthday hahah. Thank youuu and i love you

Anon-chan!! This is SUCH an important birthday request and I am beyond honoured to write it for you :D 💖💖💖💖✨

Our birthdays are so close too👉👈 mine's next week. (Exactly ten days apart from yours!!)

Anyways, happy birthday Anon-chan!!I hope you have a beautiful day, filled with lots of happy things, and a wonderful year ahead. you're wonderful, and I hope you always remember that !! 💖💖💖✨ I love you so very much <3

The teams forgetting their manager's birthday

Characters: Seijoh, Shiratorizawa, and Inarizaki

Warnings: none

Oh btw!! since the type of manager is not specified, I'll go with my default fem manager :D she's cute and sweet (like you, Anon-chan 😺😆💖) and the boys adore her a ton. She's also very capable, smart, and confident, and she loves being physical with the boys, which constantly flusters them!

Seijoh

The Seijoh boys would be so busy practicing for an upcoming match, they kinda forget everything that's happening around them.

Lots of focus. You smile fondly, because that's what makes them such a good team. Their ability to focus on their goals and eliminate all distractions.

Until one day, Yahaba is just scrolling through his phone's calendar when he sees “Manager Chan's birthday, 19th November.”

And he's just so shocked and guilty. He immediately calls the rest of the team and tells them what he just realized.

The team feels so guilty and disappointed in themselves. They're a day late to wish you, and they desperately want to make it up to you.

You're their precious manager after all, the one who bandages their injuries with a smile and who always gives them the motivation to do better.

How could they possibly forget such a precious human being's birthday?

That same day, they create a group chat excluding you, and begin to plan something special for you.

They break themselves up into teams with specific tasks of getting things ready for an impromptu birthday party for you.

Iwa-chan is in charge of ensuring everything runs smoothly, and he makes sure to do it with zeal, hoping to make it the best birthday ever for you, eventhough it's a bit late.

The next day, you walk into the gym, and it's absolutely quiet and dark. The boys aren't there yet, which is pretty odd, considering practice should've started a few minutes ago.

You stand in front of the gym and dial Oikawa's number, because he's always quick to respond to your calls, but the number goes straight to voicemail. You're confused, and a little curious as to where they are.

Suddenly, you feel someone's hands covering your eyes, and Oikawa's voice saying “y/n-chan, don't be scared. We have a surprise for you.”

You laugh, realisation washing over you that the boys probably planned something because they forgot it was your birthday yesterday, and follow Oikawa as he guides you inside.

When he finally uncovers your eyes, you see the boys holding a huge, slightly odd looking cake, lit with candles.

Oikawa hugs you from behind and you pull him closer to you, snuggling in his embrace.

You then blow out your candles and make a silent wish. I wish to always be by their side

Iwa-chan is already hitting Oikawa for hugging you before the rest, so you hug Iwa too, then Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Yahaba, Kunimi, and even Kyotani, albeit him being slightly rigid.

“thanks guys, this is an amazing surprise!” you say softly, as your eyes tear up. It's obvious that they made the cake themselves, and eventhough it wasn't perfect, your boys, made it for you.

Your heart squeezed as you cut slices for everyone, and handed it to them, as they sat on the bleachers to enjoy it.

You sit next to Yahaba and leaned on his shoulder. “Thanks for remembering” you said softly.

He blushed. “how did you know?” you explained that Kunimi told you, and he smiled at you and ruffled your hair.

“We're sorry for not remembering sooner, Y/n-san. Thanks for being the best manager ever” said Iwaizumi. He seemed to be nonchalant about it, but his eyes and smile betrayed him. He was fond of you, and genuinely glad that you enjoyed the small celebration they had prepared.

You smiled and kissed his cheek as acknowledgement, which caused him to blush and Oikawa to throw a small tantrum.

You laughed as you looked at them bantering with each other, Hanamaki and Matsukawa teasing Kyotani, and Yahaba and Kunimi next to you. You really did love these boys.

Shiratorizawa

So I'm pretty sure it's exam week, and these boys are just so studious and hardworking, they're totally immersing themselves in their studies and books.

Until it's their calculus exam and Tendou just suddenly remembers “Oh my God, it was Y/N's birthday two days ago!!” as his pencil flies across the room, much to the sensei's disapproval (haha, miracle boy is so cute)

He pulls the other third years aside after the exam, like Ushijima, and Semi, and tells them what he just remembers.

Ushijima is just stoic, but internally he's like "how could I forget? I never forget important dates like these? Is something wrong with me?" And Semi's just so sad he wants to scoop you in his arms right away.

Tendou then proposes the idea of taking you somewhere after school to surprise you, and they agree, and run off to tell the rest of the team.

Goshiki is just close to tears he hates that he forgot his favourite senpai's birthday, especially when you remembered his (and the entire team's) and never failed to make it a special day for them.

So after school ends, you're getting ready to go back home, when Semi just scoops you into his arms and carries you to the rest of the team.

You're not all that shocked, since Semi does this pretty often, and so you let him. “where are we going?” you ask, and he just casually answers “to celebrate the end of exams”

You laugh silently. They're definitely planning more than that, but you decide to humour them, and smile at the team when Semi lets you down gently.

“let's go have udon” says Shirabu with a too-big smile. You and the team walk to an udon shop near the school, and enter quietly.

Goshiki sits next you, and he looks like he wants to say something, but can't, as he bites his lip. Ushijima sits in front of you, and rest of the team take their places and begin ordering.

You notice Tendou talking to the shop owner intently, with Shirabu next to him. Ushijima knows that you might suspect something, so he tries getting your attention by asking you about your exams.

Suddenly, Tendou brings a cake to the table and team begins singing happy birthday for you. You smile happily and wait for them to finish before making a wish and blowing off the candles.

You smile happily at the team and their hearts grow warm, seeing you so happy like that.

“We're sorry for not remembering sooner, y/n-senpai” says Goshiki in a sad voice. Your heart tugs at seeing him so sad, so you ruffle his hair and assure him that exams are tough on everyone, and that it was better to celebrate it after they ended anyways.

You and the team eat the cake after having udon, and talk about the week together. They start reminiscing about memories with you, as they talk about their first impressions, and cute memories with a soft smile on their faces.

Tendou retells the story of how you first came to the team and how much you've grown ever since then.

At some point, Semi sits in your place whilst you've gone to the ladies room, and pulls you to his lap when you come back.

The team laughs when they see you desperately refusing, worried that you'll be too heavy, whilst Semi reassures you that you won't.

Goshiki adoringly smiles at you, and Semi pulls you closer to him. Tendou feeds you small pieces of strawberry left from the cake, as Shirabu records everything, excitedly typing in a caption on his social media.

Meanwhile, Ushijima is just carefully adding in a small reminder in his phone calendar, so he'll never forget your birthday in the future ever again.

Inarizaki

My sweet little fox babies! I think they would be excitedly counting down for your birthday, you're their precious manager-chan after all (and I can't bring myself to say they forgot 😅😭) when Atsumu suddenly sees a friend of yours post a "happy birthday y/n!!" on their Instagram story.

Atsumu immediately jumps on his brother's bed and wakes him up, whilst texting your friend. “Isn't y/n's birthday five days from now?”

Your friend replies. “no haha, it's today!” which cause the twins to desperately call Aran, Suna, Ginjima, and of course, captain Kita!

The boys are hurriedly awoken a few minutes after midnight, and absolutely frazzled! They had all planned something special, but now they would have to change the date, and some things (like the cake and venue) weren't ready so soon.

Osamu groggily got out of bed and began taking out eggs, butter, flour, and other baking ingredients. Eventhough it was extremely late, and he had a tiring day, nothing could compare to his love for you. And so, he started mixing the ingredients at one a.m.

Kita tried to remain calm, but internally freaks out. He and Suna are trying to brainstorm ideas of places they could take you to make your day enjoyable.

Atsumu was busy wrapping the gifts they had all got. He got way too many papercuts and had a bit of trouble, but it was for you, and the thought alone of you smiling was enough to motivate him.

Aran and Ginjima made their own preparations in their own homes for the next day, and Aran even facetimed Osamu to keep him company throughout the baking process.

They were determined to make your birthday a happy one, and genuinely wanted to let you know they loved and cared for you so much.

The next day, six terribly sleep deprived boys arrived at school, with the needed arrangements set. The cake was safely secured with Osamu, and Suna took the bag of gifts from Atsumu.

Kita went to go find you, and he saw you waiting by the entrance of school. “Y/n-san, let's go.” said Kita with a mysterious smile.

You were a bit confused. School was the other way and he was dragging you away from it, but you trusted Kita and followed him.

He led you to the rest of the team, and gently places his hand on your back. “Let's go, y/n-san. We're going to the beach.”

You were super confused. “but school?”. Suna gives you a sleepy smile. “Kita and me have already handled that. We told your teachers you'd be absent today, now c'mon.”

Atsumu gently holds your small hand in his and you guys walks to the subway. As you dig for your subway card in your pocket, the boys get seated. There's one less seat, so Atsumu pulls you to his lap, much to the rest of the team's disapproval.

They're all so jealous, Atsumu laughs silently, and pulls an oblivious you closer. Osamu just rolls his eyes, but internally seethes.

Two stops later, the team motions to exit, and Aran shyly comes closer to you, taking your hand this time. You smile at him and make your way to the small beach you sometimes spend time in, with the rest of the team.

Kita finds an empty picnic table and everyone sits down, placing the items they had brought with them down, and looking at you expectantly.

“Happy Birthday, y/n-chan.” they chorused together. Suna ruffled your hair from the right side of you, and Osamu begins lighting up the candles on your left.

You gratefully thank them for going to the trouble of bringing you here, the fresh beach air and breeze immediately putting you in a cheerier mood.

They then start singing you a happy birthday as you blush silently and blow the candles out, making a wish. I wish to be able to love these boys forever.

You lean over and kiss Osamu's cheek. He blushes red immediately. “Thank you for going to the trouble of baking this, Samu'” if only you knew, he thought silently, as flashbacks of him almost falling asleep in front of the oven came to mind.

Kita cuts the cake and gives you the biggest slice, much to your happiness. The boys all eat their cake and joke around about all the memories they've made with you.

“I can remember when y/n-chan just came. She was so small and sweet, Osamu said she reminded him of a macaroon” said Aran.

Kita fondly smiles as he gives you a pack off green tea from his grandmother.

Ginjima gives you the gifts the entire team had picked and you begin tearing up, much to everyone's dismay. You're just so grateful to have them.

Suddenly Atsumu leans over and swipes frosting from the cake on your face. The mood is once again lifted, as Suna takes a ton of pictures, and contributes to the frosting on your face too.

“hey that's enough now” says Kita. He looks firm, but his eyes betray him. The slight sparkle shows that he thinks it adorably hilarious how the boys are annoying you.

The water seems to be calling you, so you pull Suna to the shore and lean down to the water.

The rest of the day is just filled with the boys and you doing random things by the beach, like eating popsicles, and finding seashells. You're unable to actually get into the water, due to your school uniforms, but seeing an excited you gush over the seashells and smile happily over ice cream is enough for the boys.

At the end of the day, you and the team watch the sunset together, and swear to work extra hard for the upcoming nationals.

As they see you looking up at the sunset adoringly, their hearts squeeze in their chest, so grateful to be a part of your life.

Taglist: @osamusriceballs @k-sakusa-old

[bookishofalder]

Catfish & Sunshine

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Mini Series

Summary: Frankie is secretly in love with his best friend. Thanks in part to Benny’s shitty horror movie recommendation and stray ice cream, feelings come out unexpectedly during movie night. 

Warnings: Language, SMUT, little angst, lots of fluff, poor writer understanding of US military benefits/retirement. WC 8,215.

A/N: I dreamed this up after rewatching Triple Frontier about a month ago (for the plot, of course) and let it sit for a while. Became inspired to finish it off this week and share it with you all-so please let me know your thoughts!

For over a decade, Saturday nights were, for Frankie Morales, usually spent with his best friends over drinks at their favourite bar. When deployed, the bar was instead smuggled whiskey that they shared under the stars, an attempt to imagine they were anywhere other than the current hellhole. As Special Ops soldiers, Frankie and his buddies had been through the worst of the worst together, until one by one they retired or were forced to retire, and then they were back to regular appearances at the local bar, for a while the five of them, then four.

Until Frankie met you.

Had someone come up to him during one of those nights years before and told Frankie that one day he’d be bringing you along to the bar to join him and the guys, he’d have laughed in their faces. But for a while, that was exactly what occurred, until you and Frankie grew so close that you usually ended up making different plans, like going mini-golfing, or lounging at his apartment and watching movies. Not that you didn’t love the guys, all whom you’d met except for Santi as he had been off the grid for just over a year when you and Frankie had met.

It was thanks to the elder Miller brother, Will, that he had even met you at all. Working at the VA office, Will had learned of one of the few retirement perks they had for putting their asses on the line for their country-physical therapy. And you came highly recommended, a star PT who had worked magic over his friends' ailments. Knowing Frankie suffered from shoulder and neck pains, Will handed him your card and encouraged him to book an appointment.

He hadn’t called straight away. He’d popped your card onto his fridge and every day he’d pass by it, consider calling, and then talk himself out of it. Until the pain became too much to bear, his latest menial job just a little too physical for him, causing him to consider using again just to dull the ache. But he’d walked by your card moments later and instead of making a terrible decision he had promised himself he’d never make again, he called your office. Made an appointment with your friendly receptionist, who thankfully had his name already because Will had put in a good word for Frankie and asked that they try and get him in straight away, whenever he finally did call.

Two days later Frankie was standing nervously in the treatment room, looking at a wall decorated with your various degrees and certificates. He was anxious not only because he worried he’d get his hopes up that this would help the pain only to be disappointed, but also because he had no idea what to expect. Years of service as a pilot had made Frankie into a man who planned, meticulously, leaving little in the way of surprises. But he’d reasoned that calling the office back and demanding they give him a minute-by-minute account of what the appointment would be like was probably going too far.

And then you had walked in and immediately his worries morphed into concern over the fact that he required a beard trim, that he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and popped his usual cap on, probably appearing a little gruff. And fuck, he almost couldn’t breathe when you gave him the most dazzling, genuine smile like you were greeting an old friend. You were bright, a rare energy radiating off of you as though you absorbed it straight from the fucking sun, and you were beautiful. No wonder Will had winked at Frankie when he’d handed you the business card.

You were observant, introducing yourself and seemingly sensing his overall discomfort. Instead of launching straight to business, you gestured for him to sit and spent a good twenty minutes casually chatting, pulling information you needed from him while putting him at ease entirely. He learned then that Will had already sung Frankie’s praises, given you the heads up that he was a worrier and even told a few stories that showcased his talents as a pilot.

If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d think his friend was trying to play matchmaker.

All thoughts of Will Miller, and pretty much every other thing on the planet, vanished the moment you laid your expert hands on to Frankie. You zeroed in on the worst source of pain and slowly worked away, and he could only agree with Will that you had magic hands. He could have died happily right then, as you chatted away and brought him the most relief he’d felt in years. You would pause occasionally to check in with his pain levels and make sure he was doing alright, always asking him to look at you to answer and searching his face as he spoke to ensure he was telling the truth.

The care you gave Frankie in just one appointment was enough to start him falling. And he kept going back, multiple appointments a week that not only had him walking taller, feeling lighter on his feet and reducing his migraines to seldom, but also allowing him to get to know you better. You were the kind of sweet-natured person that cried when you saw a sad commercial, laughed freely to the lamest of jokes, and seemed to wake up on the right side of the bed every day. You were sunshine, literal, tangible sunshine, and Frankie thought you might not even realize it.

Though Frankie had convinced himself early on that a woman as beautiful and kind as you could never be interested in a grouch like him, with his crows' feet and a closet full of demons. The longer he knew you little seeds of hope would sprout whenever he made you laugh so hard you had to stop the treatment just to hold your stomach as you giggled. Or when you’d share something with him innocent enough but, upon reflection, he would think it wasn’t something a normal patient-provider relationship would find exchanged.

But there was the age difference, a decade between you both that, if nothing else worked, would successfully extinguish his hope. He had wondered if perhaps you were just a decent people person, that the friendship he felt was there was entirely one-sided.

Until one day, a few months into coming to you for treatment, Frankie sat waiting for you to come in the room only for you to appear looking entirely unlike yourself. He booked his appointments always for the end of the day, a routine that promised he would get plenty of uninterrupted time with you and the conversation could flow without a time constraint. He had been so surprised that you weren’t grinning as you stepped into the room that he stood abruptly, filling with concern.

When he asked, softly, if you were alright, you didn’t brush him off like he might have expected. You instead looked up at Frankie, your lower lip trembling as your eyes filled with tears, and sobbed unexpectedly. That sound had torn a hole right into his chest and he had pulled you straight into his arms and hugged you close before asking you to tell him what he could do to help.

You ended up explaining that you had come in that morning to the news that a regular patient of yours, an elderly man you’d known the entire time you’d been working for the VA office, had passed away in his sleep. And you’d apologized to Frankie while sniffling and wiping at the tears, telling him you’d held it in all day but couldn’t do that when your friend asked you, and he had been baffled to realize you were referring to him. As your friend.

He had cut off your apology to hug you close again, smoothing your hair gently as he whispered calming words and sentiments to you in Spanish. And though you didn’t speak the language, you had since told Frankie it had done exactly what he’d hoped and made you feel all the better. 

After his treatment that day, Frankie asked if he could take you for a drink to toast your friend's life. He waited for you to close up the office, and then you’d followed him in your car to drive over to his usual bar. And you both drank to the veteran who passed, then ended up ordering dinner and remaining at the bar until late, talking even more freely outside of the office. If Frankie didn’t already have it bad for you, that night sure sealed it for him.

After that, you and Frankie began texting regularly, sometimes even calling one another to share a funny story or talk about something in the news. He had joined you for your former clients funeral, his hand rubbing comforting circles into your back before he took you out for lunch, then you’d ended up at his place to watch a cheesy movie, ordering pizza when you both realized there was a sequel that, if it was as bad as the first, you absolutely needed to watch.

And just like that, Frankie saw his life altered completely when you became his best friend.  

Currently, Frankie was seated comfortably on his couch, where he frowned at the TV playing a horror movie that you had insisted was supposed to be good, because Benny had recommended it. Considering the younger Miller brother could barely sit still half the time, that was supposedly good enough for you. 

You were tucked into Frankie’s side, eyes fixed on the screen until a jump scare had you jerk, then twist your face to press into his chest, because you hated the gory bits.

“Fuck! How does this not scare you even a little, Frankie?” You whined, unknowingly causing Frankie to swell with pride when he heard the note of admiration in your voice. He had started to suspect that the reason movie nights were becoming exclusively scary movies was that you were determined to find one that actually frightened him.

So far, you’d had no luck. But Frankie didn’t mind, because though you were already a touchy person in general, you were especially clingy when you queued up the next horror flick as if you trusted him to keep you safe.

Frankie didn’t reply, his chest rumbling with silent laughter that made you teasingly poke his side. He jumped, because you knew exactly where to aim, then cleared his throat. The scene ended, and he began to extract himself from your grip. “My sweet tooth is calling, cariño. I’m going to get some ice cream.”

You let him go, your head popping up, a big grin on your face, “Can I have some too, please?” And he nodded, smiling at you before walking across the open concept apartment and into his kitchen.

He stretched his back before opening the freezer where he had some bars next to an off-limits pint of Ben and Jerry’s. You had put it there months ago, telling Frankie it was for days when you got together and one of you needed to cry over a bad date. You called it ‘emergency’ ice cream. Frankie considered it to be ‘fuck you’ ice cream, because every time he opened his damn freezer he saw that pint and ended up thinking about how neither of you had been on a date with anyone since becoming friends over a year before, then falling into the same circular argument with himself-that the friendship was too important for him to feel the way he did, that he was jumping to conclusions and maybe you had gone on a few good dates that you just didn’t tell him about, and he was out of his mind if he thought you would ever feel the same way.

“Here you go, Sunshine,” He plopped back down next to you and passed you your bar, watching as you beamed at him widely, the inevitable result of his use of the nickname he’d dubbed you with a long time ago.

He desperately hoped you never realized the amount of affection truly behind that nickname.

Because how could he even begin to explain that you were literally sunshine in his dark life?

“Thank you,” You pulled the wrapper off, glancing at the movie and frowning. “Uhg. Benny promised the one was good! I’m starting to think he only recommends movies if they have at least one pair of tits.” You took the first bite of your ice cream bar while Frankie nearly choked on his own.

Amused as he was whenever you joked about your shared friends, Frankie also loved it when you swore. You were a goofy, happy little thing most of the time and curse words just seemed so out of character for you, pulling laughter from Frankie any time you caught him by surprise. You spent your days around gruff veterans and never seemed to lose any light, no matter how many real horror stories you heard. So whenever you managed to sound so uncharacteristically blunt, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Benny has always been a tits man,” Frankie agreed, and you giggled. He tried to refocus on the movie then, but it hadn’t captured his interest in the least. After a moment, you spoke again and he had to work on not choking.

“What are you, Francisco?”

Your tone was playful, light; Frankie’s head jerked in surprise to gaze down at you and you wiggled your brows, going for laughs. You seemed completely unaware of the roaring in his ears, the visceral reaction your words brought forth within him. You and Frankie had shared intimate tidbits like that before with one another, often during nights at the bar with the Miller brothers. After a few drinks and usually, because his friends knew exactly how he felt about you and tried to steer the conversations into dangerous waters and watch Frankie try to save himself.

Only, Frankie’s friendship with you during the last few months had become...deeper. After the operation Santiago had brought Will, Benny, Tom and him in on, your relationship had evolved. Because that nightmare had reminded Frankie just how dark shit could get in the blink of an eye, and he’d had to do things he thought he was done with when he retired from service. Worse, because they were just civilians using Santi’s connections and intel to rob a drug lord.

And you had no idea what he’d gone through, how hard he’d fought just to get home to you because he couldn’t-wouldn’t-tell you. Yet you still patched him up, physically and emotionally, when he’d come home three weeks later than he’d promised. You held him as he cried and never became angry with him, never questioned him for answers as to why he’d come home with one less friend and a whole lot of mysterious trauma.

After that, Frankie realized he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

So a simple, flirtatious little question? Yeah, it really managed to fuck Frankie up.

His friends had sensed the change as well, noticed how you held Frankie up when he felt like he couldn’t stand, how you comforted them all when they got home and cried along with them over Tom, over Santi not coming home even though you’d only met him once, briefly. You held strong for him at Tom’s funeral, which prompted the Miller brothers to tell Frankie in no uncertain terms that he simply could not let you slip through his fingers. If that fucking mission had taught them anything, it was that life was too short and you might as well live it to the fullest.

But the thing was, Frankie depended on you. Your friendship was the one real, good, pure thing in his life. And you gave it so willingly and unquestionably even after what he put you through that there was no fucking way he was risking it by telling you how he felt.

Christ, you even had a spot in his bathroom for your own toiletries, a favourite pillow on his bed for the nights you stayed, a fucking hook for your coat that he installed just a little lower than the other because you were so much smaller than Frankie.

And still, he wouldn’t look at what that might mean because he was afraid, and as much as you seemed to think nothing scared him, the truth was that a gory horror movie, or losing his friend, or even fucking live combat could never come close to the fear he felt when he pictured life without you.

You were Frankie’s Sunshine, and he never wanted to be alone in the dark again.

Aware he was still gazing down at you, Frankie found himself entirely at a loss for words. You didn’t seem to mind, simply waiting for him to respond while taking small bites of your treat. His cock twitched at the combination of your words, the innocent way you gazed at him, because Frankie hadn’t touched himself in quite some time and it didn’t take much to drive him up the wall.

His life with you had become remarkably domestic, routine. You often stayed multiple nights in a row at his place, preferring his company over being alone, and the shorter distance to your office. His spacious condo had one large four-piece bathroom, which meant there had been a few times where one of you was in the shower and the other came in, desperate to use the toilet before their bladder could burst. The shower had a thickly frosted glass enclosure, which provided plenty of visual privacy from both sides, the only indication that someone was in the shower was a very faint tint. This was never an issue until it was.

Exactly sixty-two days prior (not that Frankie was necessarily keeping count of passing time since his last orgasm), you had burst into the bathroom one afternoon unexpectedly. Returning early from your jog because you needed to pee, while Frankie stood in the shower. He listened to you tell him about a cute dog you’d seen outside his building. The thing was, Frankie had expected you to be gone longer, and you were in the middle of a three-day visit that had left him needy and horny because he hadn’t had time alone and yet you walked around in his fucking clothes, slept next to him in his bed, and he needed release.

He was grateful the tinted glass prevented you from having any idea what he was doing on the other side. And he had been close already when you came in, one hand fisting over his cock while the other pressed into the tile wall, and guilt sprang up in the back of his mind because he had been thinking of you as he touched himself. And you were just feet away, unaware and fuck if that didn’t lead him to the edge.

But it was when you had sat down to pee and he heard you give a little moan of relief that Frankie lost it, giving in to the most powerful-yet silent-orgasm he had had in fucking years. Rope after rope of cum, his legs violently shaking, and he’d wondered if he would pass out it felt so good. Then you’d flushed and continued speaking, washing your hands before telling him you were going to put on a pot of coffee. And the guilt Frankie felt was so immense that he vowed right there he wasn’t going to touch himself again. He cared for and respected you too much to reduce you to his graphic thoughts without your consent.

Sixty-two days later and you were testing his limits unknowingly.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” He replied, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You frowned a little, kitten licking the ice cream absentmindedly. Frankie almost groaned, wondering if you were trying to kill him. “I guess, it depends on the person.” He was never, ever going to admit he was a you man, that your ass, your perfect tits, your pretty little mouth were everything he could dream and more.

He tried to shrug casually, as if indifferent.

“I guess it’s a funny question,” You said after a moment, laughing a little, “I mean, no one asks a straight woman if she’s an ass or cock girl!”  

Frankie took a too-large bite of his treat, the cold painful and giving him instant brain freeze but it was just the distraction he needed because seeing your plump lips wrap around the word ‘cock’ might just kill him. He coughed attempting to laugh at your joke despite the brain freeze, and you leaned closer in concern.

“Sorry, are you-ah, shit!” A piece of your ice cream bar, which you’d moved to hold higher as you were checking on Frankie, fell off and landed on your chest, instantly staining the pale pink t-shirt. You hopped up with a noise of discontent, catching the fallen glob and hurrying into the kitchen to toss it in the sink. “Damn it!”

Frankie reached out and paused the movie, standing up and intending to follow you. He took two steps, adjusting his cap as he moved, and then looked up to where you stood at the sink, running your shirt under the faucet. Freezing, he took it the sight of you standing in his kitchen, your shirt removed to run under the water, leaving you wearing yoga pants and a simple white bra. For a moment, he just shut down and stared at you dumbfounded, before internal alarms started sounding and Frankie’s eyes were sweeping over your curves, his eyes zeroing in on the lack of support your bra had, your breasts perky and full and fuck, he had to look away.

He looked up at his ceiling at cleared his throat “You uh, want me to grab you a shirt?” His voice came out much deeper than he was expecting. He hoped you didn’t notice, though with only being able to see your profile even if he did dare to look at you, he’d never be able to tell.

“Can I borrow your big sweater, please?” You asked him, and Frankie nodded as he hurried away, down the hall to grab the sweater he knew you meant from his room. He would have laughed at your suggestion it was his sweater when he barely got to wear it himself anymore, but he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Once out of sight in his bedroom, Frankie took a few steadying breaths before grabbing the sweater off the end of his bed. He was going to subject himself to a cold shower after he handed this to you because you were staying the night again and he could not climb into a bed with you this worked up.

One of the reasons that you and Frankie just worked as friends were your opposite ways of navigating life. Where Frankie was a detailed, meticulous planner, you flitted from idea to idea spontaneously until something landed right, and you seemed to enjoy pulling him along with you as you followed those random whims. And he let you pull him because he trusted you so completely. Even if he would still make a new plan in the back of his mind, it still felt like he was taking chances he never would have without you leading the way.

Planning was Frankie’s way of keeping control. Of keeping himself, his squadmates, his loved ones, safe and secure. After Columbia, where every bit of the plan had gone completely to shit, he’d needed to let you lead more often just so he could feel grounded because he didn’t trust himself any longer. And you had been happy to lead, to test his limits by pushing aside any planning he attempted and pull him from his comfort zone. You had taught him how to grapple with his instincts and his desires, giving him real-world methods to cope, including breathing as he was now.

So focused as he was on his breathing, Frankie hadn’t noticed you had joined him in his room, standing just inside the doorway. If he had heard you, he wouldn’t have spun around abruptly and take two long strides before realizing how close you were, nearly knocking you over as he did. He dropped the sweater when he reached out with both hands to grab your upper arms and steady you, and then he met your gaze.

Frankie couldn’t say whether it was the heat of his hands on you so unexpectedly, or the way you each shivered at the electricity that seemed to pulse from him to you. Maybe it was everything combined, years of friendship, longing and pining and then almost dying in the middle of the jungle only to come home and have you climb into his lap and sob in relief that he was home, and a million other moments in between.

But when Frankie met your eyes there in the doorway of his bedroom, he knew his expression was giving him away completely.

You were looking at him with wide eyes, your mouth slightly open in surprise, whatever words you were going to say long since lost. And then he saw it, was looking right at you when your expression shifted, no longer the innocent, playful woman but instead, one who was suffering just as much as he was, longing and love and this hunger on your face he’d never seen before.

Without hesitating, without thinking or planning his next move, Frankie tugged you against him and leaned down to slot his lips over yours, taken aback when he saw you close your eyes and stretch your neck up to meet him. When your soft lips connected to his, Frankie trembled and groaned, loving the feel of your body pressed against him, the way you smelled like something tropical, how even with your perfect curves you were so small compared to him. Kissing you was everything he’d dreamed and more.

He wanted to deepen the kiss, taste you, but even as he thought it his mind jumped ten steps ahead and imagined you on his bed and he had to stop himself from getting carried away. With great effort he pulled back, first breaking the kiss and then taking several steps away, panting heavily.

“Frankie?” You were out of breath, confused, and deliciously flushed. He could see your nipples tightened against the thin fabric of your bra, goosebumps along your skin. Just the knowledge that he’d had that kind of effect on you was enough to make him want to cum in his pants right there.

“Cariño, I can’t, I’m sorry,” It was physically painful now, his hard length straining against his jeans, but he was more concerned about you, and how afraid he was to lose you. “I-I’ve wanted to do that but you gotta know, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to look at his feet and rubbing his hands over his face.

You approached him again, just as quietly, taking him by surprise when you spoke from just inches away. “Frankie, look at me,” It was an order, a tone you rarely used but that always worked on grounding him, and he realized you understood he was struggling right now not to break down, terrified he’d fucked up the best thing in his life in a moment of weakness. He reluctantly met your gaze, swallowing thickly as he did.

“I need you to hear me right now, okay? Tell me.”

“I’m listening,” He confirmed, heart about ready to beat out of his chest, “I can hear you.”

“Good,” And you closed the gap between your body and his, pressing your hands into his shoulders. Frankie caught his breath. “I want you to do that again, and I don’t want you to stop. Please, kiss me again, Frankie, because I love you too and I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life than I want you-“

Frankie cut you off, a growl ripping from his chest before he gathered you roughly into his arms and kissed you again, this time quickly swiping his tongue across your lips for permission to enter, and you gladly parted them for him, moaning when his tongue licked into your hot mouth. He slid one hand to the back of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair carefully before he pressed your face to his, needy to taste you more, to get drunk on you. Fuck, you were perfect.

When you whimpered against him, the sound almost lost in his mouth, Frankie moved, walking you back until you hit the wall and crowding you there. He ran his free hand across the bare skin of your side, heat coursing through his veins when you shuddered at his touch, keening for him. He hadn’t realized he was rolling his hips against you, his erection pressed into your stomach until one of your small hands somehow slipped between your bodies and ghosted over the front of his jeans curiously.

“Fuck,” He broke the kiss, this time simply to lower his head and kiss along your jaw, down your neck, “Sunshine, I fucking love you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, sweet girl.” He licked the column of your throat as he moved to the other side of your face before biting gently. The sound that tore from you was so filthy he groaned again, dropping both hands to grasp your forearms.

“Frankie, fuck, don’t stop,” You were tugging at his shirt, and despite your request, he had to move back slightly to pull it over his head, his bare chest revealed to you and even though you’d seen him shirtless before, the intimacy of this time, of finally being with you after so long, made him self conscious. If you saw anything you didn’t like, you didn’t show it. Instead, you bit your lip as your hands tentatively roamed across his chest, trailing over his stomach lightly enough that he shivered. When you spoke next, you yet again took Frankie completely by surprise, your brows furrowing as your expression became more than just hungry, “Mine.”

You whispered it, but to Frankie, it was like you’d just announced it to the entire world. The possessive edge wasn’t lost on him, no, it shot straight to his core and snapped the final cords of his restraint.

“I should...I need a minute, Sunshine,” Frankie pressed his hands into the wall on either side of you, “I haven’t done anything in a long time, haven’t even cum, I don’t think I can be as sweet to you as I want to be.”

Your lust-blown eyes met his, “Why haven’t you cum?” He could hear trouble in your voice now, the not so careful way you spoke pulling dangerous images in his mind as he stared down at you, his jaw tense. When Frankie made no reply, you pressed your pointer finger to the middle of his chest, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly, lightly, moved it downward, trailing his dark hair. “Is it because you think of me? Are you that amazing that you won’t even let yourself cum because you think it’s wrong to think about me like that?”

A strangled noise was all he could respond with, his hands pressing desperately into the wall. You knew him too well, understood exactly what he’d meant without having to ask. And then you kept talking, and honestly, Frankie was floored at how dirty you suddenly were for him.

“I have to admit, you’re better than me, Frankie,” That finger trailed so slowly, closing in on his belly button now, “I’m not good like you, I think about you all the time. Especially when I touch myself, usually after I’ve spent a ton of time with you and I can’t fucking wait for a second longer. Wanna know what I picture?”

His voice was husky, a warning if ever there was one, “What did you picture, sweet girl?”

You moaned, your finger now closing in on the waist of his jeans, “You, bending me over the couch, that one is a favourite. Or waking you up with a blowjob, swallowing everything you’ve got because I know you taste delicious,” You unbuttoned his jeans now, sliding the zipper down with care, “But I think the winner, the one that always makes me scream your name, is thinking about riding you, Frankie. Climbing in your lap and just-“

Fuck, fuck he couldn’t hold back. He’d told you he couldn’t and yet you wouldn’t shut up and all thoughts of making love to you gently were out the fucking window, Frankie instead growled deeply and grabbed you by the arms, all but throwing you on the bed. You were smirking up at him, your eyes dark with lust and shining with triumph.

“Fuck, sweet girl, you wanna scream my name?” He removed his pants and briefs in one motion, his cock spring up, hard and leaking precum and you licked your lips, giving a little whimper at the sight of him. Frankie grasped himself, pumping his hand a few times as he stood over you, “Like what you see?”

“Jesus, Frankie-you need a new nickname,” You said, eyes glued to his cock, “Catfish makes no sense when you’re walking around with that fucking bat-wait!” He froze in the middle of removing his ball cap, looking at you with concern to see you bite your lip a little shyly, “Keep it on. The hat.”

Warmth spread through him at your request and Frankie replaced the hat on his head, then dropped to his knees next to the bed, his hands running up your thighs as you writhed. At your waist, he grasped the tops of your yoga pants and tugged them down, enjoying the way your body arched when you lifted your hips to help him. The only item of clothing either of you wore now was you in your bra, and fuck were you a sight.

Frankie gazed up at you from the floor in awe, his eyes roving over you hungrily as you watched him, propped up on your elbows. He started kissing up your thighs then, pushing your legs apart and spreading you, his hands kneading your flesh. “Sweet girl, you have such a pretty pussy, better than I imagined.” He moaned, biting into the soft flesh of your inner leg and drawing a whimper from you, “I can fucking smell you already, so wet and ready for me, fuck.”

“Oh god Frankie, please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore, I need you!”

“Told you,” Frankie climbed over top of you, his legs on either side of your body as he reached down and dragged you further onto the bed, his show of strength making you whimper, “It’s been a while. And you walk around here wearing my fucking clothes all the time. You don’t know what you do to me, Sunshine.” He grunted as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hands grasping the backs of them to haul your body against his, his cock pressed painfully against your thigh, “Gonna fuck you, sweet girl.” And with one careful, quick motion he thrust forward and each of you cried out at the pleasure of Frankie filling you.

“Frankie! Oh!” Your legs wrapped around him instantly, urging him as deep as possible as he split you open so deliciously. Once he was fully seated within you, Frankie dropped forward, propping himself on one arm, and cupped your face with his free hand. He looked into your eyes as he started a fast, hard pace, thrusting deep and reeling over how wet you were for him, how perfectly your velvet folds wrapped around him.

“Fuck, cariño, you’re fucking tight,” He grunted, kissing you sloppily as you threw your arms around him, hugging him close, “So tight for me, so perfect making those pretty noises, fuck.” Frankie groaned when you clenched around him as he spoke, “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?”

“Ye-yeah Frankie, I love it. Oh, fuck!”

You were trembling now, squeezing him each time he whispered in your ear. Frankie kept up a string of praises and filthy words, taking note of the ones that had you gripping him extra hard.

He’d always had a casual enjoyment of dirty talk, nothing over the top, easy enough to shut off if it wasn’t enjoyed by the other person. But something about talking like this to you had his balls tightening that much faster, his thrusts becoming brutal.

Still murmuring in your ear, Frankie lowered his hand to your clit, experimentally rubbing, circling and pinching it to see what you liked. He was going to cum soon, and he’d be damned if you didn’t cum too. Though, as Frankie settled on circling you, both feeling and hearing how this was definitely how you liked it, his worries quickly dissipated when your hips were suddenly bucking up to meet his and you were screaming his name.

“That’s it, let go for me sweet girl,” Frankie’s thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy as he neared the edge, “Are you-fuck, where should I?” He couldn’t even form a sentence now, he was so close and you were squeezing around him so perfectly as you closed in on your orgasm.

You understood though, your eyes meeting his as you pulled yourself together enough to reply, “Frankie, cum inside me please, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease-“

“Fuck! H-here you go, perfect little thing!” He roared, dropping his weight over your and growling as he spilled inside you, as you bucked and writhed beneath him and screamed out, toppling over the edge and into oblivion with him. He heard himself cursing in Spanish as he experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life, his hips slowing to continue to draw it out, still more cum filling you and you were a wreck under him, shivering and moaning.

“Yes, Frankie, yes.” You whimpered, your hands sliding into his hair-knocking his cap off-and tugging at his curls.

It took several minutes to recover, though Frankie had enough awareness to shift his weight so that you could breathe properly. Still hard inside you, he began to kiss you all over, peppering your face and neck before biting a few more marks into your neck, his tongue laving out to soothe. He enjoyed the way you whimpered when overstimulated, twitching when he pinched your nipple over your bra, squeaking his name when he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could one last time before pulling out.

Frankie collapsed on the bed next to you, then quickly tugged you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. His fear began to bubble back up now that the haze of passion was clearing, and he was starting to question every single moment that had occurred since you'd asked him if he was a tits man or an ass man.

What had he done? Was he going to lose you after this? Lose his entire reason for living for one amazing orgasm?

But it was like you could reach his mind, as only a few minutes had passed and then, with a little groan, you pulled yourself up so that you were on your elbow, looking down at Frankie. You took one look at his face and frowned, “That was quicker than I thought.”

Frankie stared at you, “What was?”

“I guessed it would take more than two minutes for you to start regretting this.”

Sighing, he pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed, but crossed your legs and shuffled next to him. “I meant what I said, I love you,” Frankie explained, rubbing a hand over his face, “I love you so much, so fucking much it hurts. But the idea of messing this up is terrifying me, Sunshine. I don’t think I could lose you, I think it would kill me.”

“Frankie,” You crawled over him, straddling his hips and settling into his lap. You cupped his face firmly, looking into his eyes. Your expression was open, warm and vulnerable and a little incredulous, “You aren’t going to lose me, not ever. I want this-I want you, and everything you come with, okay?”

Though his heart was soaring, Frankie still worried, shaking his head, “I come with a lot of dark baggage, sweet girl. Not to mention the age difference.”

“Jesus, Frankie, do you really think I don’t know what I’m saying when I tell you I’m all in?” You asked him, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I love you. Can I tell you when I knew?”

Frankie peered at you, his hands coming to hold your waist as he nodded.

“The boys trip.” You stated, using the term each of you agreed upon when referencing his three-week disappearance to Columbia. “When you first left, I knew something was off but I trust you, so I didn’t question it. But then after a few days, with no word from you, I started to really worry,” You paused, momentarily lost in thought, eyes dark now with the painful memory of his absence and the little information you’d come to learn about it since. “Did I ever tell you I booked a ticket to Columbia?”

This caught Frankie off guard because you most certainly had not told him that, “What, are you serious?”

“Yep. Booked it for the day after you ended up calling me. I don’t know what I was planning to do, but I knew you were there and, even if you were dead, I needed to be as well.” You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks, “After you called, and I knew you were alive and coming home, I realized that the way you said it meant you almost didn’t make it home, and I knew you weren’t saying something. I hung up and sat in my room for a minute and it occurred to me that you could have died and I would have never seen you again. That was when I knew it wasn’t just a crush.”

Heavy emotion filled his chest, rendering him unable to immediately respond. Frankie gathered you close and stood, clutching you against him and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on the toilet before turning to his massive soaker tub and switching it on, fully intending on spending the rest of the night in there with you. When he turned around, you were carefully tidying yourself up. With a grunt, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and taking over.

“Why didn’t you say anything? After I came home, I mean.” His tone was light, as he didn’t mean to come across as accusing you of anything-it’s not like he had said anything to you. Good-natured as you were, you simply smiled at him, a little sadly.

“Too afraid, right at first,” You admitted, your eyes fluttering shut as he took care of you with the warm washcloth, “But when you came home you were a fucking wreck, Frankie. You lost your friend, Santi didn’t come back with you either, and Will and Benny had the same expression on their faces whenever I saw them. You saw some shit, did some shit, I don’t know and I’ll be real here, I don’t need you to ever feel like you should tell me what exactly happened. But after the first day you were back, I could see how much it changed you and I thought it would be selfish to tell you how I felt and add more emotional bullshit onto your plate.”

Frankie continued to kneel in front of you after tossing the washcloth into his laundry hamper. For a moment, the only sound in the room that of the tub filling. He stared into your eyes, seeing only how truthful you were being, how incredibly kind. He had never realized how completely he could love someone until he met you.

“I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” He admitted before carefully standing and checking the temperature of the water. He added a bath salt mixture that you’d bought a while ago, claiming it was a gift when really you were the one to use them, locking yourself away for hours to soak because you didn’t have a tub at your place. He shut the water off and held his arms out for you, which you eagerly stepped into and allowed him to guide you both into the water.

Once settled, your back against his chest, you replied. “Your face when you came home, I’ll never forget your expression.” His legs were on either side of you, and you began to lazily trace along his right thigh as both of you fell into your painful memories of his ill-fated trip.

Frankie sighed sadly, “I’m sorry I ever left, Sunshine. I never should have left you,” He tightened his grip around your waist under the water, one hand spread flat across your stomach, “It was just...fuck, everything went bad straight from the start. We had a moment of luck and then it was like nothing could go right. And I don’t know, I’m fucking gutted that Tom is gone, but it’s worse that Santiago won’t come home. He’s like my brother, and he blames himself for everything.”

Frankie knew you had no idea what he meant. You knew he and the guys were former special ops that served together, but when Santi had asked him to go to Columbia Frankie had only told you the basics-the country, who he would be with, that he might not have a lot of chances to call, and that it would be about a week. Santi had picked him up and you had been there to see him off that morning, and his friend had casually referenced a ‘boys trip’ while speaking with you as Frankie loaded his shit in the back.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. You worked with the VA, met a lot of former service members who ended up contracting out their skills after retiring or leaving due to injuries or lifestyle changes. And you knew Frankie, understood him like no one ever had before, which is why as he gave you further details you didn’t flinch or freeze up, you simply listened. When Frankie had gone quiet for a while, you eventually turned to gaze up at him over your shoulder, your cheek on his chest.

“From what I could tell,” You began slowly, your words cautious, “Whatever you did, what happened, you all put it aside to get Tom’s body home to his family. And considering the type of work Santi was doing out there for three years before he came here to ask you guys to join him, I figure you all must have almost died a few times each, probably took out some terrible men along the way.”

Frankie had to bite back his sob, turning his face away from you to stare, ashamed and remorseful at the wall. You reacted quickly, pulling yourself up and turning over, your naked body pressing over his as you grabbed Frankie’s head and gently turned him to look at you. “Baby,” You cooed, your eyes shining with concern, “Don’t do that, don’t hide from me.”

That was all it took. Frankie let the sob out and the relief of it was instantaneous, so much so that he let out another, then another, all while you held him and murmured soft, sweet words and pressing chaste kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, along his jaw. It didn’t last long, he’d cried so many times over everything that had gone down, but this was the first time you had revealed you sort of had an idea of what they had been up to, and you were still supporting him and loving him and it was all very overwhelming.

A short time later, Frankie wiped his eyes and shot you a grateful look, hoping you could sense how much he appreciated you. You settled into the water again, knees pulled to your chest as you faced him and trailed your hands comfortingly up and down his chest. “Sunshine,” He whispered, catching one hand and holding it against his heart, “I love you, thank you for being so fucking incredible.”

He tugged you closer, joining you in laughing when a little water sloshed up over the edge of the tub as you landed against him. You snuggled close and kissed him, your fingers carding into his curls and holding him steady. When Frankie took you to bed that night, there were no pillows between your bodies, not a shred of clothing separating you. He held you close, falling asleep faster than he had in years.

And for the first time in Frankie’s life, he felt whole and complete, like nothing could ever bring him into darkness again, not when he had you, literal sunshine, lighting his existence.

PART TWO

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@mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

[kishillaa]

SSM21 Day 10: Distant

"You'll write for me. Promise me you will." She said between her sob as she started to feel unconsciousness overwhelming her.

-

Being in a secret relationship without give anything away to Kakashi and Naruto, or anyone else for that matter, was simply hard.

Now that she is so far away from him, making it even more difficult. Him being at Orochimaru's hideout, while his darling Sakura is all the way in Konoha. Without even mean to, he has created distance in between them. And at the moment like this, when it's dark and cold and pin-dropped silence, all he could think of is her heart shaped face, her emerald expressive green eyes, and of course her beautiful pink locks. He does like how she looks in her short hair, even though he did previously prefer the long one. She had said that it got in the way while they're in the wild as an excuse for Naruto and Sasuke personally agreed to that action, although he did know the real reason behind the chopped mane.

And then, there's part of him that miss her that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone.

He missed her hugs; Sasuke definitely enjoy the warm and comforting embraces of Sakura.

"Sasuke-kun. Don't struggle too much, please. I just need to hug you right now." She had said, with her teary eyes. When Sasuke was sure Naruto and Tsunade had left the room, Sasuke snakes one of his arm around Sakura's waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. It makes her cried even harder.

He missed how she desperately asked him for dates too, in spite of their usual secret night meeting.

Naruto was there with Kakashi and they had just finish one of their D-rank missions, "Sasuke-kun." She calls out, earning his attention to look over at her, "Let's get something to eat, j–just the two of us."

And then something like,

"Eh, Sasuke-kun, do you think you can help sharpen my weapons?" She bites her lips before letting it out as she continus, "There's this new restaurant open in town, we can try the new food while you're sharpening."

Really, it gets weird over time. While he usually makes rude remarks and bluntly reject her proposal, he genuinely impressed with her effort.

Thinking about that, Sasuke remembered her blushes. He missed that cream colored cheeks changed to the color of her hair–or brighter, when something excited or embarrassed her.

Sasuke touch her cheeks, "You're wrapped up." he had said, gesturing at her wounded shoulder he had cleaned and wrapped with bandage. She has gotten stabbed by Amegakure genins as she shield Idate from the attack. At their closs proximity, and his touch, Sakura went red as she blushed. She tucked few of her fallen strands of hair behind her ears before she place a soft peck of kiss on his cheek, "Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

He most definitely missed their innocent kiss too. Sakura usually the first to initiate that. Only until he's comfortable enough then he will be the one started it, which isn't bad because he likes kissing her, and if that's not enough, then Sakura's delight expression makes it worth even more.

Tucking Sakura's falling hair behind her ears–which he noticed she often do before kissing him–Sasuke leaned down cautiously and cover her waiting lips with his, softly kiss her before he pulls away. He stares at her deep green eyes as he examined how she takes it before Sakura yanked him closer by his neck and kiss him for real.

He especially missed her coconut smell shampooed hair she had started to use after the Chunin Exam.

"Your hair smells different." He commented when they sat on the dock at the Uchiha district, his hand acted as a comb as it makes it through her hair releasing the few knots here and there. The pink haired girl was leaning against him, her hands circling around his waist as they sat side by side, legs dangling at the edge of the dock.

It was always very silent in the Uchiha district, and no one dare to go into the district, somehow afraid of the ghost of Uchihas still lingering around. Sasuke likes it better that way, especially now that he needed all the silence in the world as he sits with Sakura, liking the secrecy of their relationship.

Sakura makes a face as she pulls her face away from his shoulder, "Pakkun used the same shampoo I previously used. So, I had to change to this one, coconut with vanilla scent." She bites her lips as she looks at him from under her lashes. "Do you like it?"

"The smell?"

Sakura nodded.

"It's fine." He replied nonchalantly as he looks straight ahead.

Smiling in content, Sakura change to embrace his arm instead, tighten it a little and rest her head on his shoulder again, "Are you okay?" She asked.

That stopped Sasuke from his train of thought. Cautiously, he lowered his gaze to look at Sakura. Her eyes closing as a small frown cover her face, albeit she looks like she's comfortable with her head on his definitely not comfortable shoulder, "Why should I not?"

"Something's coming." Her voice coming out soft, almost like she's going to cry. "I can feel it, Sasuke-kun. This bond we're having, it helps me understand you more. And right now, something isn't so right. I hope I don't loose you so soon."

He had put his face into her hair that night, lightly kissed her temple and sniff into her coconut and vanilla scented hair. A few days after that, he left the village, leaving everyone behind.

When Orochimaru first taught him summoning jutsu, and he finally mastered it, he has sent Sakura a letter through the snake summons. It's probably risky, but that is the extend he is willing to make just to get in touch with her.

Right now, he is staring at Sakura's third letter.

Sasuke-kun,

I went to clean up your apartment again yesterday, and stopped by at the dock to uproot the grass and and clear up the growing moss that had started to cover the dock.

To answer your questions, I've been well. And you heard that right, I'm doing apprenticeship with Tsunade-sama. Training with her was hard; she didn't just train me healthcare stuff, she helped me sharpen my combat skills too, but of course, I'm sure it isn't as brutal as your training.

Speaking about training, Sasuke-kun. How has you been doing? You know I can't tolerate with you overwork yourself, right? I'm not there to scold you about it, but I hope there's another me to take care of you over there. If there isn't someone else, please take care of yourself for me, Sasuke-kun.

I know you didn't ask this, but I'm sure you'd like to know as well. Naruto has return from his travel with Jiraiya-sama yesterday. Kakashi put us on the bell test again. This is where it got interesting though.

NARUTO FIGURED OUT HOW TO DEFEAT KAKASHI-SENSEI!

I'm pretty sure you're rolling your eyes right now and think how could Naruto–our Naruto—thought of something to fight Kakashi-sensei off and won. ~I'm actually laughing right now thinking of you saying it, gosh I missed you so much~

But he actually did it. It was stupid, really. Jiraiya-sama just published the latest book for Icha Icha series, so Naruto just recite the ending part of the book for spoiler–Mind you, he actually did read the book. Kakashi-sensei eventually let his guard down and we were able to snatch the bell from him.

Anyway, I know I said this in my previous two letters many months ago but I am so happy you wrote to me. Thank you, Sasuke-kun. And I missed you so damn much!

This has gotten too long, I hope I didn't trouble your summon. He seems like he loves those rats I caught for him, though he said the exact opposite. He and you are so alike. See you, Sasuke-kun.

Love you always,

Sakura.

He reread the letter again for the second time that day. Just like the first time he read it, his face soften at the first paragraph, feels grateful for what she had been doing. It was one of not so many things they did together when he was still in the village, and in their kind-of-dating relationship; clean up as much part of Uchiha compound as they could when they're free from mission and Kakashi's training. He felt somewhat blessed to have someone like Sakura by his side, who is terribly in love with him, to company his lonely days and do things he didn't ask her to.

He of course rolls his eyes at her over caring demeanour, and non logical uneasiness regarding his health. She has always put everyone else before herself, that's what he dislike the most about Sakura.

At the part where Sakura predicted Sasuke's reaction to Naruto's idea, he couldn't help but smirk. She knew him a little too well, despite the yesrs of his absence in her life.

Sasuke touched the cursive writing of her name. Huge part of him feels content that, even after years of separation, Sakura still loves him. And to that, he is genuinely grateful.

For this time, they had to be distant. But when everything else is done, he promised he will go back to her, to the girl that he knew will always wait for him, always love him.

After all, distance means so little when someone means so much.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Late

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

A/N: Thanks as always to @bluenet13 for beta reading!

Read on AO3

T.K. was late. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to be running late; when you worked as a civil servant the end of the day was determined by when the work was done, not what the clock on the wall said. Dating someone who understood that was rare, a gift. They understood and forgave the tardiness without malice.

He’d texted, telling Carlos to go ahead and get a drink and order an appetizer if he wanted. But Carlos waited, anxious to see his date (boyfriend? booty call? friend with benefits?). It had been a long day and he’d been looking forward to this evening since T.K. had texted and asked him about it two days ago. That was a step forward, T.K. asking him out instead of the other way around. It had to mean…something, right? Maybe? 

Oh god, his sister, Francesca, had been right when she told him he was hopelessly gone on this guy. Her actual comment had included a few more swear words and a surprising amount of sexual innuendo, even for his sister, but the message was the same: He was in love with a guy who liked him back. And he was doing a pretty terrible job of figuring the relationship out.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” T.K. slid into the seat across from him, interrupting the gymnastics of his mental anxiety.

“No worries,” Carlos said, offering up a smile. “I got you a sparkling water and ordered a cheese plate.”

“Great, that’s great,” T.K. said, fidgeting in his chair like he couldn’t get comfortable.

Carlos hadn’t known T.K. for long, but the man read like an open book. He could tell something wasn’t right. “Everything okay?” he asked as T.K. picked up the menu and flipped it over without reading it before setting it back down again.

“What? Yeah, yes, yes everything’s fine,” he said, picking the menu back up again.

Carlos studied him, feeling his leg bounce up and down under the table. “You sure? You seem on edge. Rough day at work?”

T.K. set the menu down again and schooled his face into what Carlos assumed he thought was a neutrally pleasant expression, but was really a smile that strained around the edges. “No, I’m good. Sorry. So, what are you thinking about? The filet? Or actually the salmon looks really good. With the lemon sauce?”

Carlos let T.K. chatter his way through dinner about inane subjects such as the different types of hose nozzles, his Dad’s medicinal tea collection, and how to properly hail a taxi in New York. Carlos hmmed and nodded in all the right places, all the while mentally going through a list of possible reasons for T.K.’s uneasiness. A difficult shift seemed most likely, but T.K. had denied that. Could something have happened to someone he knew in New York? Or was there…was there someone else? He knew about T.K.’s recent horrendous break up, but was it possible that whoever he’d left behind had come calling? It happened more often than not, a quick rebound and then back to the previous relationship, he’d seen it time and and time again.

His heart squeezed a little bit at the thought and he mentally shook himself. T.K. had given him no indication that things between them were off, he shouldn’t assume and possibly fabricate a problem for himself that didn’t exist. 

They finished their meal, declining desert and coffee, and headed for the parking lot. “So,” Carlos finally said, his first word in quite a while. “Did you want to come over or…?”

“Yeah,” T.K. said far too brightly in the fakest possible way. 

T.K. seemed to have run out of bizarre facts and mundane topics to talk about because he was quiet on the drive back to Carlos’, seemingly lost in whatever was going on in his head, fingers absently playing with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands.

He didn’t even move when they stopped in the driveway, eyes staring straight ahead out the windshield. “T.K.,” Carlos said softly.

He startled and cleared his throat. “Hey, sorry.” He flashed another fake smile and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Carlos’ lips, quickly trying to turn it into more.

Carlos let him for a moment, not pulling back, but not fully giving in either, still trying to get a read on what was going on tonight. The current situation suggested it had nothing to do with them, which was a relief. But something was still wrong.

“Should we take this inside?” T.K. asked a moment later, his hand sliding up Carlos’ thigh, even as the enthusiasm didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Carlos cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to?”

That got T.K.’s full attention and his brow furrowed. “I—yes. Yeah I wanted to come over and be with you.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of Carlos’ nose. “Come on.”

They walked inside and for once Carlos let T.K. take the lead as they landed on the couch, lips locked together, hands in each other’s hair, running up and down each other’s bodies. But it wasn’t fast and hard or even slow and gentle it was just…as if T.K. was going through the motions. And Carlos was not okay with that.

He pulled away, sitting up, putting distance between them. “What’s wrong?” T.K. asked in confusion. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

“What?”

Carlos fixed him with a firm look. “T.K. I want to have sex with you, I do. But I’m a big fan of enthusiastic consent. And right now you’re consenting but…I’m kind of missing the enthusiasm.”

T.K. sighed and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I should have just gone home.”

Carlos felt a pang of sympathy as he watched the weight of whatever T.K. was dealing with settle fully on his shoulders. He reached over and put a hand on T.K.’s knee. “You know, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here. Or if you don’t want to talk I can drive you home. No questions asked.”

He could see T.K.’s jaw working, like he was trying to hold back tears. He shook his head silently, misery all over his face and Carlos couldn’t take it any longer. He slid closer so their thighs touched and put his free hand on T.K.’s shoulder. “T.K. what is it?”

The other man sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “My dad has cancer.”

Of all the things he’d considered, this had never crossed his mind. It felt like a punch in the gut. And if it felt that way to him, he could only imagine how it felt to T.K. 

“It’s lung cancer,” T.K. continued. “From the towers. And he didn’t tell me. He just moved us across the country like he could run away from it. I thought he made us come here because of me but really, it was because of him. And me. Both of us I guess, I don’t even know anymore.”

T.K. looked so wrung out and exhausted and Carlos’ heart ached, wishing for all the world that he could somehow take his pain away.

“He’s been getting chemo and dealing with this for months now, all on his own because he couldn’t tell me or didn’t want to tell me or didn’t trust me enough to tell me and I feel really REALLY shitty about it,” T.K. said. “Like the worst son in the world for not noticing and not being…okay enough for him to talk to me about it. Because you know that people with a support system have a better chance of beating cancer than people that don’t. And I haven’t been providing that for him. I’ve just been dealing with my own shit again.” 

His intake of breath was shaky, words continuing to pour out of him. “And I told him that I wasn’t scared, that I knew he was going to be all right, but I think that was a lie. Because right now I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I’m going to lose him. And I promised myself I would never lie to him again after what happened in New York but how could I say anything else? He needs me to be strong but,” T.K. finally looked up and met Carlos’ eyes, “I’m not very good at being strong. As evidenced by the addiction and relapses.” 

He shook his head again and ran an agitated hand over his face. “And I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I kind of can’t stop thinking about it and it all just kind of…spilled out.”

Carlos squeezed his knee. “Well, they do call me “The Confessor” at the precinct. Bad guys take one look at me and give up all their secrets.”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “They do?”

“No, T.K. it’s a joke.” He winced slightly. “Maybe not the right time for a joke. Sorry.”

T.K. snorted. “No it’s…thanks. I needed that.” He exhaled slowly. “I think I needed all of that. I don’t uh, I don’t have many people I can talk to about stuff like this. So thanks for letting me unload on you. Again.”

“You can talk to me anytime,” Carlos said. “I mean it. And if you need help with your dad, anything at all, I’m glad to do that too. I can drive to appointments, pick things up, make phone calls, or just be a shoulder to cry on.”

T.K. gave him a soft, smile, the first genuine one of the night, and cupped his cheek. “You are so sweet. You know that?”

“I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Carlos told him. “I’m not just saying it; I’m serious T.K. Anything you need, anything at all.”

He couldn’t fix this, couldn’t tell T.K. that it would all be all right in the end, couldn’t give him the assurances he longed for, but he could offer his presence and support.

“I know,” T.K. said, and he seemed to genuinely believe it. “Thank you.”

Carlos leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment before pressing their foreheads together. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

T.K. nodded against him and didn’t pull back. “Do you mind if we don’t…I just don’t think I…”

“How about we watch a movie?” Carlos suggested. “I’ll make some popcorn, we can relax. Decompress a little bit.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos smiled. “Believe it or not I like being with you even when we’re not having sex. And I am very capable of going without for a night or two.”

“But not three?” T.K. asked as Carlos got up and moved to the kitchen.

Carlos gave a fake wince. “That would be pushing it. I might have to find another hot shot firefighter from New York to hook up with.”

“You get a lot of those in Austin?”

“Oh they’re a dime a dozen around here,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as he started the microwave. “Walk down the street and you’re bound to run into at least a few. Although, I don’t think all of them have such a passion for hose nozzles.”

Now T.K. winced for real. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m anxious.”

“I noticed. It’s okay. And next time I’m at a scene and someone asks me for a hose nozzle, I will definitely be able to help. In fact, I think I’ll add that to my resumé. Hose Nozzle Expert.”

“Oh god,” T.K. rolled his eyes. “I’m a terrible date.”

Carlos returned with the popcorn. “Well I’ll guess we’ll just have to go on another one. Give you a chance to make it up to me.”

“Friday?” T.K. asked.

“I have a shift starting mid-morning.”

“Breakfast then?”

Carlos handed him the popcorn bowl. “Breakfast it is. Now,” he settled back into the couch and pulled T.K. toward him until they were cuddled together. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

[whereflowersbloom]

Morning after

The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee woke her up. Raven hardly ever felt so rested, even after spending an hour meditating before going to sleep, opening her eyes and getting accustomed to the morning light of the sun that illuminated her room through the windows. She turned on her back and nestled in this new, previously unknown feeling. She was strangely calm as if everything was in the right place, and every possible problem remained in the past.

Maybe that’s what genuine serenity feels like, she thought to herself.

But how did she end up in this situation? They became friends. Best friends, even. They talked about everything including their most intimate thoughts. She told herself it was enough or deceived herself into believing so. There was no line for them to cross but a secret and deep part of her soul definitely understood and sought the need to feel wanted and loved and fulfilled. Not like she hadn’t thought of Damian that way before. There was such a terrible tension between them sometimes when they were both sitting on her the sofa watching old classic films or reading books they both enjoyed. She craved the heat of Damian’s embrace. She remembered how it felt to have him curled around her, how gently his thumb stroked her cheek, how his muscles flexed against her, and she wishes he would hold her again.

Damian was like a compass for Raven if she felt like she might lose her way, and that kind of thing never happened to her. Not often at least.

As usual Damian went jogging as it had become his habit thanks to Jon, who craved the sunlight as soon as he opened his eyes, persistently asking him to be his partner. A surprising string elbow in the ribs by Jon gave him the second push to voice his feelings for Raven. Later, he visited a local bakery that made exquisite chocolate croissants, as he memorized Raven’s favorites. Then he returned home with a sudden thought it was the high time to turn his quiet feelings for Raven into something serious. He wanted to fool himself at first, but as it turned out, he was too fucking smart to believe a single word of the downright falsehood he made up in his mind in order to excuse himself from the imminent truth. He was in love with her.

She was about to get out of bed to stretch her muscles when Damian walked into the room carrying a tray with breakfast: hot coffee, steaming Earl Grey, croissants and juicy autumnal fruit. She wanted to approach him, wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the neck, the sensitive spot she discovered last night, but they were not yet at that stage of the relationship. As the matter of fact, she did not know exactly who they were to each other now. Maybe nothing had changed. After all, it had been just a few kisses last night, letting go, a carpet diem kind of moment. Maybe Damian didn’t want things to change between them.

"Good morning.” Damian muttered, sending her one of his radiant, sincere smiles that made her legs weak. "Did you sleep well?"

“Yes. Better than most days. I didn’t know if you would come back...” She kept her own voice soft, matching his tone, afraid to burst the strange bubble they found themselves in. Controlling her anxiety was easier said than done.

“I simply needed time to clear my mind.” His expression was solemn. “We must discuss last night’s event.” He mumbled under his breath, voice deadly calm, a convincing facade, fighting to distract the both of them from his own wild whirlwind of emotions as he left the tray at the bedside table. No woman in his life had ever truly enchanted him in the way she did. He would not give her up.

Her lower lip trembled slightly. She repeated her mantra over ten times until she calmed her nerves. Damian was her closest friend, and she cared about not ruining the special bond between them. They said it was easier to move on as long as you were merely lovers, but what when you are so much more. She felt like a teenager who was falling in love for the first time. Not that she was that much older at the age of 19. She had experience in meaningless romances, short-lived, Wally, Garfield, but she knew nothing about true love. Their bond was beyond comprehensible lines of poetry. More than it being undefinable, it was the freeness to be defined, the way as open interpretations take you.

“We don’t have to to this now. In fact, nothing has to change.” She spoke tentatively, unsure whether she’s more concerned how this would shape their friendship or embarrassed she let herself cross a line. Slowly passing around the room folding her arms across her chest.

The distress was heavy in her chest, stirred with a fog of uncertainty.

At this, Damian’s eyes sparkled with determination and objection regarding her statement. Before she registered what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “I do not want to leave things exactly as they used to be. Not before last night.” He held her gaze and rubbed his thumb over the backside of her hand, reveling in the softness of her skin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach, and she’s taken aback at the intensity of it. Butterflied filled with hope and wish. There was hope of light after all darks, hope of happiness after grief, hope of a new colorful sunrise, a chapter to be rewritten.

“It was just a kiss..” In a trice, breaking off the contact. She lied and immediately regretted it. Damian stood next to her with a disbelieving expression on his face. There was a hint of indignation but it vanished quickly.

“You and I both know it meant more than a kiss. I do not need the gift of empathy to see it.” Damian stated sharply, his features hardened at his resolution. He was tired of constantly feeling this weight on his shoulders. What was the point of deceiving themselves any longer? If he didn’t know better, he would say she was avoiding him like a plague.

Letting out a breath she had been holding in since Damian entered her bedroom, Raven felt a weight being lifted off her chest. “Damian...I” She started, but never managed to finish interrupted by an unexpected question.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He left the question hanging in the air.

With brows furrowed in confusion she found herself unable to command her mouth to utter anything. Her heart thudded out of her chest. The normally unflappable last daughter of Azarath knocked for a loop by the close proximity of her stunning teammate.

Raven parted her lips and closed them again.

“It seems we are free to do as we please today. Clear schedule. No training or missions. He shrugged casually, willing his breath to remain steady, years of boiling emotions teetering over the edge of his elegant, suave composure

Raven blinked. Amethysts widening.

“I thought we could go somewhere. You and I” Damian licked his lips, swallowing the nerves in his chest as her eyes widen a fraction at his proposal. "There's a new Parisian café in the city I think you might like.”

Her lips curved up into a sweet smile, growing wider and more radiant as she thought of sitting in Parisian cafe with Damian, enjoying a minute of bliss to be in the other’s company.

“Are you asking me on a date, Damian Wayne?” She blurted with a momentary astonished look, even as she realized the implication of his words. Was this truly happening? She asked herself mentally.

“I’m courting you properly, Raven. So yes, I’m asking you out.” His shoulders ease from their tensed position, subconsciously hunched in nerves to what she’d respond.

It was surreal, talking about what a few minutes ago had been unbearable chains, restrained by her own fears and inner demons. Ethereal strands of thread that could be snapped by a mere jerk of fingers. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“I don’t know, Damian.” She bit her lip still indecisive, gaze away from his face. Once again mind invaded by intrusive negative thoughts. What if it didn’t work? What if she lost control? The numerous what if’s haunted her like never ending nightmares.

Taking a step closer, something in his emerald sparked with an idea and firmness of not quitting. “Any chance I can persuade you to change your mind then?” He crooned in her ear, nipping at it just slightly, taking her breath away. She wondered how long she could resist his gravitational pull for so long.

Raven hesitated for a good few seconds before finally resigning herself to the fact that whatever she did. She couldn’t fight this anymore. She loved him. “I can think of a few ways.” She was surprised at her own boldness, snaking slender arms around his torso. He pressed his built body against hers closer, placing tender, teasing kisses along her neck. Whilst she was glad that he was enjoying himself, she was going to completely lose it if she remained flush against him for much longer. Her entire core heated with want for him. He smirked at the effect he had on her with his natural charm. This confident, cocky air. This was so him and content and not bothering to mask it. No filters.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered and there was no missing the boyish grin spread over his tanned cheeks. Hooking a finger under her chin and brought her face level with his own.

“I suppose you earned a date, Mr. Wayne.” She laughed feverishly. Gently, stroking his palm with her thumb. Enjoying the calloused yet silky skin of an accomplished swordsman and fighter.

An audible sigh left Damian’s mouth as his muscles relaxed with her nestled in his arms. She could sense his relief. Yes, perhaps a change could be good, opening herself to feel again. A new chapter of light and joy.

Notes: I know I have disappeared and haven’t updated in forever but I’m still sick and weak. Also working on the fanzine project. I should be done in a week though. But meanwhile have this short damirae. Not my best but I hope you enjoy it 💖💖💜💜

@deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @chromium7sky @kallura-juniblade @cayeeast

I miss you all and youre all welcome to message me. I feel a bit disconnected from the world.

Also I’d like to use to wish @shewhowillnotbenamed1 a happy birthday!! Thank you for blessing us with your beautiful wiring and your friendship 😊😊🥰💜💖

[soclonely]

Why do you like Jar Jar so much, if its ok to ask! I see so much hate for him and I am sort of indifferent about him myself.

I've touched base on it a little before but don't mind getting into it again! AND ITS TOTALLY OK TO ASK!! I love talking 🥺🥺

Okay so I grew up in a small town in Oklahoma outside of OKC. Like, the only thing that matters to most people there is OU Football (BOOMER SOONER), when the next tornado season is going to start (we lost two home to two of the biggest ones in the states history when I was growing up), and the kids sports. ALLLL the kids stuff. See, I played softball and cheered and all that junk. I think I was about 8-9 when this happened- still in elementary for sure- but I thought it would be okay to share my love of star wars (as big then as it is now) with some of my friends that came over after one of our many games. WELL I thought it went okay, until I went to school the next day and a lot of my little girlfriends decided to make fun of me about it, calling me a boy and weird and just terrible things. Hearing then make fun of something that me and my entire family loved really, really hurt me and so it was a bit of a struggle for a few days there. I was already going through enough at a young age so the added new discovery of friends being big assholes to a young girl just blows my mind. Well see, what these girls didn't bank on was me telling my mother, a very direct woman who takes no shit when it comes to their kids, and her going directly to the parents at our practice one day and asking them you know "wtf can we do about this situation to make it not a big deal.", with my passive dad in tow.

And I get and totally support some of the arguments these other moms said like "well kids dont have to like the same things!" and all that. But there is a fine line between not enjoying the same books and shows, and sending a little girl home crying everyday because you can't stop picking on her about it. And my mom said that multiple times, BUT as a lot of you could guess it made no difference. Eventually mom just gave up, told me to stay away from the little brats right in front of their parents, and we went home.

And now onto the Binkster love. I remember sitting with my dad later that night. And as I have said and shown a few people before, my dad is basically the living embodiment of Tech: little hyperfixated nerd man who gets awkward but caring. We were just watching the Phantom Menace together, and he always does the gungan voices to make us laugh. And it was just really nice to have that. And we talked about how JarJar was this weirdo outcast, even to the gungans, but he ended up being a very important part of the trilogy and to anakin and padme and a great friend. Despite some(most of the fandom) people not liking him, he's still there. And through all the scoffing he gets from Obi Wan, Qui-Gon, and basically everyone else in the galaxy, he still did what he could for his friends and never cared about the rude people he encountered. Anyway... cheesy and lame but that memory of being with my usually awkward and silent dad became one of the most important things to develop me as the person I am today. Thus, making JarJar important and a lifelong love was formed!

And for those of you wondering what happened to the mean and rude girls I was friends with, possibly hoping they ended up miserarble and sad. Nope! All 6 of us (known as the 6 pack(derogatory/affectionately) by teachers) grew up together, finished school, and had a a lot of ups and downs as friends. We all realized slowly that some of us like certain things while others don't, and thats okay! The girl who initially initiated the bullying actually came to visit me 2 years ago here in Orlando and the best time we had was going to HS to show her Galaxy's Edge

I genuinely just never, ever will make fun of something another person likes. Even if its not my own personal cup of tea. Why waste the energy? Im gonna siit here with my cup full of Gungan Swampwater and be happy!

[eventid1ngs]

[ F e v e r . ]

A Post-Calamity Zelink Oneshot

Rating: T

Word count: 2500

Zelda blew out a breath that puffed her cheeks. She felt flushed and uncomfortable, and frankly, quite over the whole situation if she was being honest with herself. It hadn’t taken her long to decide that the Eldin Region, in its entirety, was her least favorite amongst the whole kingdom. At least the Gerudo’s persistent hot weather was of a drier character; the climate closer to Death Mountain was dreadfully humid and the princess was not enjoying it at all.

Quickly, she changed out of her travelling clothes and into more comfortable clothing suitable for sleeping. She did not have the energy to walk to the bathhouses to change, and Link had gone not too long ago to bathe, so Zelda took the liberty to change within the current privacy of their room at the Foothill Stable Inn.

Afterwards she lay on her side of the bed (Following a week or two of debilitating nightmares, Link had agreed to sleep nearer to her, for both her protection and her comfort. She hadn’t had a nightmare since), focusing on doing as little as possible so as to avoid using the energy she felt she didn’t have due to the heat. Rather idly, she scrolled through the Hyrule Compendium on the Sheikah slate, making mental notes of the missing entries.

Even breathing felt like a chore. Zelda missed the comforts of more temperate climates and looked forward to leaving the next morning now that her and the knight’s work there with the Gorons was complete.

A half hour or so passed before Link returned. Zelda jumped when the door opened, having been so absorbed in her reading material. Her eyes met the knight’s as he entered. He nodded to her and offered a small smile before closing the door behind him and motioning towards the mirror by the dresser. He wore a clean white shirt and short pants. His wild hair was wet from his bath.

Zelda continued to read as Link brushed his hair into a duly ponytail. He approached the bed.

“Will you be up for a while longer?” he asked.

“Yes, I would like to finish this book. I am almost at the end. It is quite fascinating! Did you know that…” But Link had stopped listening, not out of any disrespect but because of sheer exhaustion; that fight with the hinox brute earlier had left him more tired than he realized. As Zelda discussed the contents of her book, Link moved the candle from the nightstand on his side of the bed to the one on Zelda’s.

“...Amazing. There are so many things to learn about this Goddess-forsaken region.” The princess finally took a break from talking.

Her knight chuckled. “Goddess-forsaken?”

“I must admit to you, Link, that I have been most uncomfortable since our arrival here.” she explained, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. “Tease me if you must, but I am not at all accustomed to this climate and it does not suit me in the slightest.”

The other refrained from the teasing. “Can I do anything to make you more comfortable, princess? I could fetch you a cooling elixir.”

Zelda wanted to accept the offer, but shook her head. “No, I will be alright. You need your rest. I will be quiet now.”

“Being of service to you is not a bother--”

“Thank you.”

“...Do you need anything else, princess?”

“No. Thank you, Link.”

He nodded and proceeded to lie down, on top of the covers. His left hand rested on his stomach and the other above his head on the pillow. His typical sleeping position.

“Goodnight, princess.” he muttered, his eyes already closed.

“Goodnight, Link.”

Sometime later, after Zelda had finished her book, she sat it down on the nightstand and lay down on her side, facing the candle. She watched the flickering flame for a long, long while.

It was too hot. Too humid. And for the life of her, the princess was unable to fall asleep. She turned over, facing her knight. A weird sense of desperation came over her that she would not sleep at all that night and that have a terrible day tomorrow, and she wanted to wake Link so he could go and acquire a sleep tonic for her. But she couldn’t. She wouldn't.

So she just stared at Link, half comforted by the sight of him sleeping so soundly, half incredibly envious of the fact that he had already been sleeping for two or three hours and she hadn’t slept a wink.

Then she felt awkward, watching him like that.

Was it proper that she and Link shared a bed, if only to sleep? It hadn’t even crossed her mind before. She had been so immensely relieved to be cured of her nightmares that she hadn’t considered anything else. Besides, most evenings, both Link and Zelda were too exhausted from the various activities of the day to let their minds wander where they, perhaps, should not be. Everything was mechanical. And if otherwise, the two merely went over the next day’s plan on the Sheikah slate until they were too tired to continue.

The princess shuddered at the thought of her father finding out about the bedsharing, although, surely he knew somehow, from his place in the afterlife. It was a somewhat harrowing thought that Zelda pushed from her mind immediately.

But tonight, on account of her sleeplessness, her thoughts went somewhere it had only dared to graze over before.

She watched the slow rise and fall of the knight’s chest as he breathed. He snored softly, which was followed by a sort of contented moan that caused something in Zelda’s insides to stir. She had no explanation for that strange feeling, at the time.

She sighed. He is enjoying his sleep. Blessed be the Goddesses.

Suddenly, Link woke, and stared at Zelda with a confused expression and sleep-smeared eyes.

“...Princess? Are you alright?”

Zelda hesitated.

“What is wrong?”

“The mere fact that I bathed just a few hours ago and I already feel that I need to bathe again.”

Link scratched at his hair. His cheeks were visibly flushed. “It is hot in here.” he agreed, “I’ll open a window. Maybe some air flow will help.” He got up and did so. Before returning he acquired a looser, short sleeve shirt from his pack to replace the one he was wearing. He quickly switched the shirts with his back facing Zelda. She hadn’t been looking until one of his shoulder blades glinted in the candlelight and she glanced over a mere second too late to see anything else.

Did she want to see anything else? The sudden notion puzzled her.

When he turned, the two locked eyes.

“I’m sorry that you’re so uncomfortable, princess.” he said, approaching again. “Are you sure there isn't anything else that I can do to help?” He couldn’t stop the yawn that followed his offer.

“I just can’t sleep. Perhaps I will just try again tomorrow night when we’re back in Necluda.” She meant for this to be a joke but it came out more bitter than she had intended.

Link stared at her for a moment, thinking, before sitting crossed-legged on the bed and reaching for the Sheikah slate. It had been resting against the footboard. The bed dipped as the knight sat down and the princess had to readjust her own sitting position.

“...What are you doing?” she asked, curiously.

“Making note of something I just thought of.” was his answer. Zelda didn’t feel like prodding him to tell her what that something was, so she laid back down instead, feeling no less irritated. Link typed on the slate for less than a minute before setting it back down where had been and then lying down. He finally noticed Zelda glaring at him.

“What?”

“...Nothing.”

He wasn’t convinced, and they didn’t break eye contact. Finally, the princess’ expression softened.

“I was just thinking, Link…” she said quietly. “...and, please, be honest with me--”

“I’m always honest with you, princess.”

She paused, taken aback that he had interrupted her. He had never done that before. “...Just for the sake of my curiosity… Have you ever thought about… I mean… Have you ever wondered what we… If we…”

“Yes.”

“I...what?”

“Of course I have, princess. I’m not dense.”

“I… I was not at all suggesting that you were! I’m just genuinely curious…” Zelda pressed her lips together. She hardly understood these words that were, frivolously, escaping her lips with her voice. And yet, somehow, Link understood? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Our questions will find their answers in due time, princess.”

“I know that. I have always been rather impatient, though, and I can’t help but wonder... But I apologize for this silly conversation. Please, go back to sleep. I have said too much.”

The moment of silence that followed, without any sort of closure from either party, proved to be far more uncomfortable than the hot weather.

The princess shut her eyes, feeling as if she had done something awful, and it took considerable effort on her part not to start crying. A line had been crossed and she wished that she could erase the past five minutes.

But Link moved beside her and before she had a chance to look at him and assess the situation, she felt his lips on hers.

It was soft.

Gentle.

Earnest.

Still, Zelda gasped from surprise. In doing so she opened her mouth slightly, which her knight took as an invitation.

Something was being set free. It was raw, unadulterated...wild. Something, perhaps, that had been waiting over a hundred years to come to the surface, having lay dormant all that time.

“Link, wait-- I-- There is so much more-- that I need to say--” But he was stealing away her breaths, and the words stopped materializing in her brain.

“Later.” he said. His lower lip dragged up her chin and briefly cupped hers before resuming the kiss.

“Oh-- I--”

He paused and they stared at each other for a few seconds. “...Do you want me to stop?”

“I… No--”

So he didn’t. Zelda sighed out the last bit of her resolve and allowed her mind to drift away amongst the sea of her inner consciousness.

His hands were on her; one on her hip and the other supporting her behind her back. She put her hands on either side of his face, daring to touch him for the first time. Their kisses became less tableau and more mindless; a feverish tangle of swollen lips and forceful breaths. They fell to the bed eventually and his mouth travelled from hers to along her jaw and then her ear.

She felt his warmth--impassionate and searing--seeping out from him, through his clothes and then through hers before entering her through the very pores of her skin.

...If she had been hot before, she was on fire now, having become one with the very pools of flame that flowed under the Great Eldin Bridge.

Link nuzzled against her neck, somehow finding new places to plant more kisses. Zelda felt that if this continued for much longer, she would surely implode.

“...We should stop…..” he said, his voice low near her ear. His breathing had syncopated with hers.

“Then stop...” was her response. It sounded like a dare.

“...Do you want me to stop, princess?”

The word princess made Zelda open her eyes. She stared at the textured beige ceiling above them as she tried to catch her breath. “...I’m afraid, Sir Link...that I simply don’t have the courage...to answer that question...as we are, now...”

At that, he retreated, removing his limbs from hers carefully. Zelda’s skin mourned the loss of his touch. She searched for his face but he refused to meet her eyes. She watched him swallow, hard. Her brain rebooted and had begun to replay what had just occurred over again in her mind like a slideshow. What...was happening? The princess tried to make logical sense of this new onset of feelings and emotions, but her body betrayed her with exhaustion and a yearning ache for more of his kisses.

“I’m sorry. That should not have happened.” Link said, finally, swallowing his breaths in vain attempt to calm himself down. “It is not my place to initiate such things. I’m ashamed of my behavior."

“But, Link--”

“I can’t share a bed with you anymore, princess. Please understand me. I… can’t.”

Zelda panicked, remembering the nightmares. “You can, and you must. Please! I need you to. You know this.”

He made no response. Instead, he got up with a vague gesture of distress.

“Wait--”

“I just need a few minutes to myself, princess. Please excuse me.”

Zelda nodded her permission and Link put on his cloak and boots before heading out into the night alone.

“It’s fine.” she reassured, a bit later, after he had returned.

“No. You barely opened a door and I shoved myself across the threshold. That is not fine, princess.”

“Maybe I wanted--” Zelda began, but she stilled her tongue.

Link stared, not realizing that he was holding his breath.

The princess swallowed her previous sentence. “...It’s my fault, then. For opening the door.” she said instead, feeling her heart sink, meanwhile.

That was not what her knight wanted to hear, either, and it was obvious in his expression.

“At any rate, I’m sorry...” he said, too late.

The princess was exasperated. The lack of sleep was making her eye sockets hurt. “Please don’t apologize for--”

“..For disturbing the peace between us.”

“--something that I started.” They had both spoken at the same time. There was a long, pregnant pause. It was then that they both realized that neither would be the same from that night on. Later that became a terrifying though exciting prospect; a new adventure to embark upon and a new world to explore but in that moment, it felt like both of them had lost something very precious and they felt its sudden absence very, very keenly, in their own ways.

“Link, let’s forget about this for right now. I am so very tired and I know that you are, too.” She patted his vacant spot on the bed. “Come and sleep.”

“I shouldn’t--”

“Come and sleep.” she repeated. It wasn’t a request.

He swallowed again. “Yes, princess.” He rejoined her on the bed, maintaining distance. They both lay down on their backs, both staring at the ceiling.

Zelda reached out and took Link’s hand. “I trust you, you understand that, right?” she said quietly. Her eyes were closed. “It is myself whom I do not trust just yet.”

“I understand.”

“Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

The night finally consumed the two--the Princess of Hyrule and her appointed knight--and they slept peacefully, long into the morning.

END.

[streets-in-paradise]

Let’s talk about the amazingly on spot social commentary on The Boys

Warning: This post contains spoilers from Season 1 and the first three episodes of season 2 of The Boys 

Tags: @nehoymenyoy asked to be tagged. I don’t know if my tags are working well but if they don’t i will send you the link of the post. 

I decided to make this post because i finished all the avaliable episodes of the series two days ago and, having a long talk with my sister about this topic, i tought this is too awesome to not discuss it here. We are both studying in careers of the social field, i'm in sociology and she is in social work. We watched the show together and talking with her inspired my own ideas i would like to share here.

This show was a wonderfull surprise in terms of social commentary. I haven't watched one with such a great commentary since American Gods. In that case i was expecting some degree of progressive commentary because i had read the book previously and i was aware the source material had some, the one added for the series is even better and it was great, but it wasn't a shock to find it. For The Boys i haven't read the comics first and , even when i loved the show for lots of reasons, the amazing on spot social commentary was a hell of a surprise. I have been frustrated lately in terms of the messages in entertaiment products because, even when there is a lot of intention for part of the makers to make more progressive points in their stuff, everything becomes bland marketing to me most of the time. I remember that some years ago media used to came out unintentionally with some really cool progressive messages ( like, for example, " a bug's life" and its anti capitalist message). That stuff seemed soo genuine and today i feel that everytime a product targets my demographic in that sense what they deliver it's soo bland and fake that the progressive intention of the message gets lost in the absolutely obvious intention of selling something to me using my ideals as catch. Precisely this is an important point of critic in this show. I didn't expected at all to get a genuine feeling in the social commentary of a superhero show. I'm not saying that this means i think the makers believe in this (after all, it's amazon), what i praise here is how good they did it. In a time when most productions claim to have a social commentary behind to come out as cool but result in shallow fake bullshit this series has provided me with something that feels autentic. Like American Gods, what i feel the show is trying to tell me actually gets me.

Before starting with the proper talk i want to dedicate a few línes to recommend a few scenes of the show i just mentioned. I was super dissapointed after finding out they will probably end up turning it into more bland fake bullshit for season 3 but, to anyone who likes well delivered social commentary, check on Orlando Jones's scenes as Anansi. He is my favourite character from the show and all his scenes are a blessing. 

I would also want to clarify that this post and the opinions displayed on it are from an anti capitalist, intersectional feminist and latin american perspective. I know the show is very american, the issues it discusses are most of the time worlwide but it has particularities of the american context so i will try to talk only of what i feel i know enough to have a word. I'm argentinian and we have our local versions of some of this problems but i will stay in the series territory trying to be as faithfull as i can to the american reality it gets inspiration from. Also, forgive me for any mistakes on my writing and expresions. English is not my native language. 

Superheros are modern mythology. How would this work in real life?

This is the basic premise of the show’s worldbuilding. The great thing is that this concept is not developed in an edgy, pretentious way. It is serious and painfully real because it’s not only a subversion of tropes, it says a lot of what superheros are to us as a modern times myth. In a superficial view, the world of The Boys feels like what the MCU could have become after the Sokovia accords if they would have been efficiently followed on a worldwide scale.

In that particular universe i use as reference, our superheros are noble and morally heroic individuals.State intervention is the factor threatening to corrupt their actions making them follow the interests of the system. The risk there, along with some very shady violations of human rights to powered people, is having superheros tied to something as unstable as political power. You can fear, for example, what a Trump-like president could do if he had power over the Avengers because, again, the heros are not corrupt, their line of command is. Now, if we strip away all the idealization we had putted on this bunch of powered persons and see them as what they truly are at the end of the day, people like everyone else. Why are we supposed to believe they are immune to corruption? If we also consider the phenomenon of strong privatization of security that has been growing worldwide . Wouldn’t they be more like security workers working for a private contractor? Less like heros and more like private military / security officers?  Now, this is what we are talking about. 

What feels so different from this show is that it assumes a surprisingly realistic point of view on a modern fantasy we are very used to consuming and still constructs a new power fantasy that empowers the viewer. I’ m saying this as an MCU fan, I had grown too comfortable with this optimistic fantasy and this twist from it is brilliant. To put some context on what i want to say here i will try to explain myself first on why i think that superhero fiction have this enormous popularity today and it has become such a huge thing in entertainment. Besides of the obvious reason of big companies producing big exciting action blockbusters for the genre, it’s curious to think on how much these stories gathered a lot of progressive audiences. In past decades action blockbusters didn’t felt progressive, today’s superhero blockbusters were embraced by progressive audiences and this was the start of a twist in general for the media. I think that there is a contextual social reason for this, not the only factor but one i feel is considerable. 

Late Stage Capitalism crushed us, we are so used to injustice and the control the system has over us is so big that we have slowly stopped dreaming of changing it ourselves. Instead, the fantasy of a superhuman who has the power we don’t have saving us from oppression feels really comforting. Captain America becoming such a huge icon in the middle of a time where extreme facism is rising again all over the world, for example. I don’t know much about his comic counterpart but, at least from what i see in the movies, Steve’s ideals feel to me like all those aspects from French Revolution’s  Enlightenment that capitalism dropped away once bourgeois defeated their feudal rivals and capitalism got consolidated, the freedom and equality that feudal lower classes fought for. Today, we feel too small to make a difference so we enjoy the fantasy of powerful persons leading the fight for us. Capitalism feels more unstoppable than ever, it is the only thing who seems strong to remain in a terribly chaotic world. The suffering this cruel system brings to this world is overwhelming, we feel only a miracle can save us now. This is what feeds the narrative of the superhero as modern myth and saviour of humanity.

The Boys tosses aside all our hopes and dreams, presenting us with the most realistic escenario. Superheros are not the miracle we are waiting for, they are humans like everyone else. They are not sacred entities existing beyond our societies, they are part of the system and they insert on it as part of the security industries. They can be corrupted and they work in corrupt institutions in benefit of the ruling class like every other security provider in capitalist societies. They become a new face of the security forces in constant tension with police and military because the myth of the superhero provides them with the public trust those other two forces lost. People lost their trust in cops but they trust sups because they are supposed to be this noble individuals mobilized by their personal feelings of injustice trying to make the world a better place … right? Police are the forces of the ruling class but superheros are supposed to be with us, or at least this is what common sense and propaganda claim, having our hopes as a base to work on. 

For someone so used to the typical superhero fantasy this felt like a slap on my face back to reality. It soo accurate , the system tends to capture any revolutionary input and turn it into profit. Even if the sups could had been a revolutionary factor at the beginning, the most likely thing to happen is for them to become a profitable industry. If we add to this what we already know of the actions of police and military in our real world we have a combo for disaster. The realistic twist is so fresh and painfully real, i can totally see this happening in real life if superheros were a thing. 

We have already introduced ourselves in the world of this story, let’s check on the first main character this series introduces to us. Hughie Campbell, a college age guy who works in an electronics store, lives with his dad and has the most boring average life you can imagine. This guy who is too afraid to ask his boss for a pay raise changes overnight when a superhero kills his girlfriend in front of him and the big corporation the asshole works for covers up the whole thing. The “average guy becomes a hero” trope is not new at all, but the use it has here feels fresh because it is not there only to feed the male geek power fantasy. Hughie is not a geeky average guy only so geeky average guys can identify with him in an action series full of geeky references,he is not there to be the nerdy guy from Robot Chicken. Hughie’s characterization makes a point for everyone. The smallest most unimportant person, the one who can't even stand up for themselves in everyday situations, can make a change. Remember Samwise Gamgee fighting Shelob in Lord of the Rings? Hughie killing Translucent gives me that vibe. If we consider the point i already stated about superheroes being there when we feel too small to fight back injustice, this is the exact opposite. This is a fantasy that gives us the power, makes us think in our own strengths. Hughie is standing up for himself for the first time in his life and he inspires us to fight for our rights. 

Pharmaceutical,Security and Entertainment industries and their business system : Superheros as lab rats,elite security forces and celebrities. 

This part of the post is the hardest to write and the most exquisite. There is so much to talk about about this system Vought shaped tying these three billionaire industries together. The first thing i want to mention, as a point to start, is Butcher’s ramble over the teddy bear with a camera inside in his meeting with Hughie. Perfect introduction for the character with a delightful moment of commentary. In our current societies people live in constant fear for hundreds of reasons. Fears over street crime had skyrocketed all over the world even when crime is not growing uniformly in every country and that accelerated the privatization of security, fears of parents over the strangers they leave they kids with when they are not home inspired products like the one mentioned in the series’s moment, fears on the effects of processed foods are an impulse for the diet industry and i could keep naming lots of other examples. Fears, and the emotional response they trigger , are the base of profitable businesses. 

I had been reading some authors that describe this stage of capitalism as an emotional one. Capitalism preached science and rationality during the past century but today its base of support is an emotional one. To excite the sensations of the people as consumers, to eliminate rational criticism, to push anti popular agendas through emotional excitement and mass hysteria. To cite another example that you can consider bounded to the series, Right Realism in Criminology is now almost common sense and there are people who keep asking for harsher punitive systems. This ideology, with the help of media panic, goes straight after their feelings and fears of being victims of violent crimes. Rational thinking is not the area of discussion, the base of the argument is on fear and pain. Fear of being potential victims, pain shared with the victims thinking in solutions that sound more like revenge than justice. 

Going back to my point, in the world of The Boys this type of punitivism seems to have succeeded even in a greater way than in our current world because it has superheros as backup. If real life harsh punitivism feeds on fear and a wish for social revenge, in this world it has the positive emotions supes inspire on people as a trust certificate for the persons who may not feel that way. They are loved and worshipped celebrities, their faces are everywhere, they have thousands of fans… who would see flaws in what they do? Can you imagine a world in which we worshipped cops and soldiers like we worship celebrities? This is it, people put their blind faith in them because most of them seem to be their fans. Even the people who are against brutality in the actions of security forces would end up trusting them because they are famous people. Our culture has taught us to make ourselves blind to the bullshit we see on the celebrities we love. Fans have a strong emotional attachment to their favourite celebs and this can turn into emotional manipulation in this context. If actors or singers in real life can have a fanbase that forgets to see them as human people how would these actual superhumans not end up being worshipped as gods? 

There has always been military propaganda in entertainment but this marriage between the industries through superheros is far more sinister than that. It makes you think about the unfair amount of credibility we put in celebrities. The plane crash scene of Homelander and Maeve it’s even more devastating looking at it from that perspective. Those persons had their full trust in them and they were safer with the terrorists. Can you imagine being a Homelander fan and dying there?  That’s horrible, the last thing you get in your life is the biggest disappointment ever from someone you trusted and stanned. 

 Speaking of Homelander, he is a right wing wet dream and one of the best villians i had ever seen, he makes me feel sick with how fucking despicable he is. His character is an excellent point to start the ramble on the third wheel of this corporate nightmare. Superheros are products of the pharmaceutical industry, injected with a drug since they were babies. In his particular case, he was raised like a lab rat and the series is realistic even in this detail. The lab rat kid with superpowers is another common trope that we see pretty often and here it also gets twisted. I’m thinking for example on Eleven from Stranger Things, she has been raised by abusive scientists who treated her as an experiment, yet she is this sweet kiddo who has a hard time socializing. Instead, Homelander is a monster without conscience or mercy and seems to be severely affected by his abnormal childhood. Brilliant, he is the ultimate product of this corporative triangle and depicts everything that's wrong with it. 

The cycle is pretty clear: drugs create them, they play their role in security and their media notoriety justifies their actions. As it is shown in season one,  the security aspect of the corporate complex represented mostly in Homelander’s actions craves to grow bigger and get supes into the military since, in the startpoint of the series, they only work with cops. Since the industry feeds on fear and Vought seems to have a monopoly in the production of powered persons there were no threats big enough to justify the intervention of superhumans in wars. Dismissing the importance of this monopoly for the company, Homelander suministrates the drug to terrorist groups in an attempt to create the first super villains. This is a perfect analogy of how the american war machine works. There is no way for terrorist groups from Third World countries to get access to sophisticated war technology without help from the ones who wield that power better than anyone. The first mentions of the supe terrorists reminded me of when i was in my course of worldwide history in college and i learned there how most of those famous names in middle eastern terrorism were actually friends with the CIA before at some point. Here in South America we have other history regarding the style of USA intervention, the Plan Condor dictatorships in the 70’s and early 80’s. I was just starting my career when I had a month of history classes about the Middle East and, being pretty ignorant on the matter, it shocked me the way in which the US villainized people they used to work with. I think the series makes a great point with this part of the plot because it hints something of this war mechanics. 

Gender politics of the series: a surprisingly complex approach on the topic of sexual assault ,a realistic critic to bland white feminism and the empty cashgrabbing ways in which mainstream media adapts feminist discourse.

This topic was even a bigger surprise for me. I wasn't expecting such an interesting approach of gender issues, mostly because this is the area in which media wannabe woke messages had become more dissapointing to me lately. Specially in a show about superheros, i wasn't expecting to get very interesting points.

I will start talking of the portrayals of sexual assault. We have two sexually assaulted characters in the series, Starlight and Becca. First, i think it is great that they didn't used the "rape as character development" trope. Actually, it's cool how they mock this conceptions. When Starlight saves a woman from being raped on the streets or when she makes a public statement about her sexual assault it's the people behind her, building her public image as a character, the ones who push that trope. In the first time their great character development idea is to sexualize her outfit, after the second event mentioned they literally push her sexual assault as development. I love how the public relationships team acts oftenly in a men writing women way, serving as mirror for the most common mistakes of writers on pop culture products when they write female characters.

Going back to my point, i like the effort they putted into portraying differences in both cases. Homelander is the typical portrayal of a rapist, a narcisistic monster without remorse, a deranged son of a bitch. The Deep is also a piece of shit, but of a different kind. There is a phrase that feminists of my country had popularized " los violadores son hijos sanos del patriarcado" ( it means, the rapists are healthy sons of the patriarchy. It tries to explain they are not crazy individuals who act outside societal circunstancies), the Deep reminded me of that.

He is not crazy, he is an insecure guy with a super fragile ego who abuses women for power. Insecurity on men under patriarchy tends to become bashing of women. This is not a black and white portrayal of a sex criminal, it is surprisingly complex. Of course,his actions were unexcusable. He will never repay what he did to Starlight and other women before her but he has chances of working on his issues and, eventually if he trully wants to get better, stop being the scumbag he is. He is not a deranged criminal whose only fate is to be neutralized for the safety of others.

I think this is important because, at least in my country, i had seen people using sex offenders as an example of why countries without death penalty should implement it. I don't support extreme autoritarian security measures and it makes me sick to hear that there are people claiming those as solutions in the name of women's safety. I like the approach they took to portray The Deep as the piece of shit he is but still showing the complexity of this issue instead of going for a more traditional dichotomic way.

Back to the mocking of mainstream media's attempts of adopting a feminist approach i mentioned, the season two got even better at this commentary on the "Strong Female Character" trope with the introduction of Stormfront. She is the literal embodiment of what shitty marketing says an empowered female character must be and has the biggest "I'm not like other girls" complex ever. That interaction she had with Starlight in "pink = bad, pants = cool" mood was super annoying and blaming her for the assault?? Freaking disgusting.

Honestly, i hated her soo much even before she showed her true colours completely. Stormfront represents everything i hate in Hollywood's feminism and the crappy meaningless messages it's pushing lately. She reminds me to all the fake "woke" advertisements i had seen on tv, like a Carefree (pads brand) advertisement that pissed me off last week because with the slogan " self trust is beauty" it portrayed girls who wear make up as fake and insecure.

Now, speaking of that particular scene of her killing Kimiko's brother. I felt literally sick, even sicker than in every Homelander scene. This bitch is worst than Homelander because at least he gathers a public that serves to his views. If you ever need to provide someone with a proof of why intersectionality in feminism matters use this racist bitch. Horryfying racism hidden behind the progressive mask of a bullshit privileged version of feminism, the thing i hate the most. She has a strong nazi terf vibe. I think she absolutely applies as mirror of critic to stuff like Rowling's terf nonsense. 

The introspective look this series has regarding the multiple issues on today’s attempts of gender approach on media entertainment surprised me. It’s everything i would had wished something to point out but nobody seemed to have the guts to make it happen because, as i already said, the current trend is what it’s being focus of critic here. 

I will end this now, i feel there is plenty of more stuff to talk about but this post is getting very long and, if i get more ideas i want to discuss, i can always make a second post. As i said before, this expresses my humble opinions and i’m open to hear different interpretations that can enrich my views. 

Thanks for reading this extra long ramble. 

[albertasunrise]

Coffee and Crisis - Chapter 1

So this is my first Mentalist Fanfiction with Marcus Pike. I loved the Mentalist and only recently realised that it was our dear Pedro that played the perfect Pike. 

Summary: Marcus has been pretty unlucky in love. With a failed Marriage and engagement under his belt, will his luck finally change when he meets a pretty, young English girl in his favourite cafe?

Warning/Content: Angst, Blood and Injury, 

Paring: Marcus Pike/ Original Female Character

§

It was a chilly day in September. The trees were almost bare of their leaves. Branches waving in the city breeze, sounds of wood knocking together joined the cacophony of city sounds. Marcus scrubbed a hand over his face as he approached the cafe that had become a staple in his morning routine, always stopping for a coffee and a muffin without fail before heading into the office across the street. This morning was no different except for one tiny detail. Her. His eyes locked with her's almost as soon as he pushed open the door, the small bell above jingling as the wood knocked against it. She was stood in line, eyes staring off towards the door as she waited to be served. He was instantly struck by her, giving her a smile as he pushed the door closed behind him and stepped towards her. She had dirty blonde hair that that was wavy and thick, sitting a little below her shoulders and framing her oval face. Her eyes were a seductive shade of green, accentuated my neat black eyeliner that flicked out at the edges and a subtle brown eye shadow on her lids. Her clothes told him the most about her. She was wearing a Retro Print Star Wars t-shirt that was tucked into her pale Levi jeans that were folded up at the ankles and a black, wool-lined denim jacket. He was instantly drawn to her. She wasn’t like the other women he saw here on a daily basis, tight work dresses, perfect hair and makeup with ridiculous heels that they couldn’t walk in. Not this girl, in her white converses and geeky, acid-wash t-shirt. Her eyes watched him as he came to a standstill behind her, glances and smiles being all they shared for a few moments as Marcus plucked up the courage to speak to her.

‘I like your shirt.’ He said finally, motioning to it with his chin.

‘Thanks.’ she replied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she gave him a warm smile.

‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ He stated, quickly glancing at the muffins to make his selection before returning his attention to her.

‘I’ve just moved here.’ She replied.

‘You’re English!’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yeah.’ She giggled, trapping her lip between her teeth ‘Well I’m half English.’ She continued ‘Mum’s English, Dad's Canadian so basically, I’m cursed to be too nice and apologise for everything.’

He laughed at her reply, his smile reaching his eyes as they held each other's gaze for a while. It was only broken when the Barista asked for her order. Latte and a Lemon and Poppyseed Muffin. She knew exactly what coffee Marcus wanted, asking his muffin selection for the day before getting to work making their orders.

‘So are you a Star Wars fan or did you just like the shirt?’ He joked.

‘Oh no, I love it.’ She replied, laughing nervously ‘I’m a huge geek.’

‘I’ll let you in on a secret.’ He said quietly, leaning towards her slightly as she looked at him with anticipation ‘So am I.’

She laughed at that, covering her mouth in embarrassment at her sudden outburst. Her laugh was like music to Marcus’ ears, her smile addictive and he found himself wanting to see it more, hear it more. The sound of paper cups scraping against the stone countertop then pulled their attention away from each other.

‘That's Seven dollars.’ said the Barista.

‘It’s on me.’ said Marcus suddenly, handing her the money for both orders.

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ she replied as she looked at him with surprise.

‘Call it a welcoming gift.’ he stated, giving her a genuine smile before holding the door open for her.

They came to a stop outside, Marcus holding out his free hand ‘I’m Marcus.’ He said, smiling as she took it and gave it a shake.

‘Ada.’ she replied.

‘Nice to meet you, Ada.’ Smiling he glanced across the street towards his offices ‘I better get going,’ he continued.

‘Uh yeah, same.’ she replied, her smile dropping slightly at the thought of them parting ways ‘Best not be late on my first day.’

So they parted ways, giving each other a small wave before Marcus sprinted across the street and disappeared through the tinted black glass doors. From that day on, he saw her every morning. She would wait for him and they would queue together, taking it in turns to buy each other's coffee’s whilst they talked about movies, books and art. Marcus learned that she’d studied it at college back in the UK but had decided against pursuing a career in it. He learned that she was a personal assistant but that she worked remotely from her apartment around the corner. She had been engaged to a guy she’d met in college. They’d been together for almost 7 years when she was offered the job in the US and he’d told her that he didn’t want to move with her. So they had ended things, her moving a few weeks later.

‘So have you spoken to him since you arrived?’ he quizzed, sipping his coffee.

‘I spoke to him a few days ago.’ she replied, taking a bite out of her muffin ‘He’s been dating.’

‘Ouch.’

‘No, I’m happy for him.’ She replied, her tone surprisingly genuine ‘He’s never done the dating thing really. Just sort of fell into relationships… Hell, he was single 3 days before we got together.’

‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘Are you dating?’ He asked, his question making her choke on the coffee she’d just sipped.

‘No. Wouldn’t know where to start.’ She replied, taking another bite of her muffin and shifting in her seat.

They'd both agreed to meet in the cafe earlier that day, sit down and have breakfast for once.

‘I attract odd people.’ She continued, sipping her coffee.

‘Odd how?’

‘Well, I’m a girl… who’s a geek.’

‘Ahhh.’ He replied, understanding exactly what she meant.

‘You’re the first guy I’ve met that has been normal.’ she replied, her cheeks flushing a little ‘I don’t meet many people working from the office in my apartment either.’

‘I imagine not.’ he chuckled, giving her his signature smile that made her knees go weak.

‘Well, Marcus.’ She started, standing and throwing her coat over shoulders ‘This had been lovely but I need to get to work. Those meetings aren't going to arrange themselves.’

‘Yeah… Right.’ Replied the agent as he stood suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he knocked it back.

‘I guess I’ll see you Monday.’ she replied, giving him a small smile.

‘Well unless you’re free tonight?’ he suggested, his brown eyes ever hopeful.

‘I’m free.’ she replied, pulling her bag over her shoulder ‘What were you thinking?’

‘Dinner?’ he shrugged, giving her a small smile ‘Take you on your first date in the US.’

‘I’d like that.’ She replied, her heart racing.

‘Great! I’ll pick you up at 7?’

‘Perfect.’

He was there at seven on the dot. Ada had spent much of the afternoon panicking about what to wear, knowing that it was a date but not wanting to overdo it. She’d fallen pretty hard for Marcus, the man invading her dreams and leaving her flushed when she woke up. She looked forward to their morning talks, missing them when he was away and over the weekends. When he’d asked her out, she’d almost passed out from the excitement but somehow managed to keep her cool. As soon as her day had ended she tried to figure out what to wear, realising that she had brought very little with her. She pulled a black lace skater dress her friend Liv had given her just before she’d moved. She wore it with some grey heels and minimal jewellery. She did smokey eye makeup and a subtle pink lip stain, her hair in a loose bun with a few loose waves hanging down to frame her face. When three soft knocks sounded on her door she felt her heart in her throat, hands shaking as she grabbed her bag and keys before opening her front door. She felt her nerves melt away when she saw him. He was wearing smart jeans with a Burgundy shirt tucked in and a smart leather jacket that fit him perfectly. He beamed at her as he checked her out, feeling his own heart flutter in his chest at the sight of her.

‘You look beautiful.’ He stated, watching her as she stepped out and locked her door behind her.

‘Don’t look bad yourself.’ She replied, winking at him as they made their way down to his car.

The restaurant wasn’t far from hers and after a fair amount of convincing on her part they ended up walking instead, arms linked as they talked about each other's days.

‘Here we are.’ he stated as Ada looked up at the sign and laughed.

‘A Canadian restaurant?’

‘You told me that you were half Canadian.’ He started, smiling sweetly at her ‘A colleague of mine told me about this place the other day at work and I knew I wanted to bring you here. Is this okay?’

‘This is perfect.’ She chuckled as he opened the door for her.

The inside reminded her of Christmas’ with her grandparents in Canada. The walls we clad with wood and decorated with hockey jerseys, pictures, sticks and pucks. It was the cheesiest place she’d seen in years and she loved it.

‘I feel a tad overdressed.’ She stated, looking around at the other people in there.

‘’You look perfect.’ He replied sweetly, grinning when she got all shy.

They ordered their food which, true to Canada, was oversized and terribly unhealthy. The conversation was easy, new subjects easy to find when old ones were exhausted.

‘So you know all about my dating history.’ she said suddenly ‘I bet someone like you has had women throwing themselves at you.’ She finished as she shovelled some waffle into her mouth.

‘Hah!’ He laughed as he took a swig of his beer ‘Well… I’m divorced.’ he started, smirking when Ada’s eyes went wide ‘We were young, foolish. She cheated on me with my first partner at the FBI.’

‘What a bitch.’

‘Yeah…’ he replied, shrugging as he took another sip of his drink ‘And then last year I met an incredible woman, Teresa and fell head over heels for her. We got engaged but later that day she told me that she was in love with someone else.’

‘Oh my god, Marcus I’m so sorry.’ Ada felt a pang of guilt at the man's story ‘I shouldn’t have asked… I’m sorry.’

‘Wow you really are Canadian aren’t you.’ He smirked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

‘Shut up.’ she laughed, swatting his arm before returning to her waffles.

As they walked home, their hands kept grazing each other’s until he trapped her hand with his. They took their time walking back, hands swinging as they enjoyed the sounds of the city together. When they finally came to a stop outside her building she spun on her heels to face him, biting her bottom lip as she gazed up into his eyes.

‘Can I confess something to you?’ She asked, her eyes drifting down to their hands ‘This is the first proper date I’ve ever been on.’

‘What?’ His head shot back in surprise ‘Really?’

‘I never did the dating thing. I kinda met people and we just ended up together.’ She replied, looking away in embarrassment.

‘So how was your first date then?’ He asked, pulling her a little closer.

‘It was pretty good.’ She replied, green eyes sparkling up at him.

‘Only pretty good?’ he asked, giving her a devilish grin ‘What would it take to make it perfect?’

‘Hmmm.’ She pondered for a moment, a cheeky grin crossing her face as she stepped closer again, her chest flush against his ‘Perhaps a goodnight kiss.’

‘Oh really?’ he grinned as he laced his fingers around the back of her head.

‘Mhmm.’ she nodded, licking her lips in anticipation as he pulled her in.

He pressed his soft lips against hers, his left hand cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking her high cheekbone. She opened her mouth to deepen it, their tongues dancing together as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. She moaned against his lips as she felt a heat forming in her core, lacing her fingers through his hair as their kiss became more heated.

‘Did you want to come up?’

‘I’d love to.’ He replied, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye.

‘But...‘

‘But this is only our first date.’ He replied, pinching her chin with his thumb and pointer finger as he kissed her again ‘Let me do this properly. No jumping into things.’

‘Are you sure you’re not Canadian?’ She joked, grinning as he kissed her again.

‘Goodnight Ada.’ He replied, giving her one last peck on the lips before watching her walk away.

They spent most of that weekend texting like teenagers. They text about what they were doing, what they were reading. They even ended up watching Empire Strikes back and talked on the phone to each other during. They then continued to talk to each other as they lay in their beds, talking about their schedules for the week and possible plans for the weekend. When they finally said goodnight they agreed to have breakfast together in their favourite little cafe in the morning. Once again the day started as it always did. They stood in line together, ordered their coffees and muffins and sat at their usual table beside the counter. The conversation, as always, was easy and relaxed. They joked about how lame they were talking on the phone in bed like two smitten teenagers. Secretly though, neither of them had wanted to hang up. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of sirens, screaming and shouting suddenly erupted in the morning air and the door of the cafe crashed open. Two masked guys came screaming in, guns waving above their heads and sending everyone into a frenzy.

‘Everyone get down!’ they shouted, pointing their guns at the customers who were crouching with their hands above their heads.

Marcus instantly switched into FBI agent mode, his right hand wrapping around his gun as looked at Ada beside him.

‘Stay down.’ he whispered as he squeezed her arm and started to stand.

‘Hey, Jackass I told everyone to get down.’ Shouted one of the men, waving his gun at him as he spoke.

‘Let these people go.’ he said, taking a step towards them.

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Dunno but he’s clearly got a death wish.’ One sniggered,

‘I’m Agent Pike.’ He started, hand still wrapped around his gun ‘I work for the FBI. If you let them go I can help you come to a peaceful solution.’

‘FBI huh?’ the leader replied, tilting his head to the side as he studied the agent across from him ‘Well you’ll be useful.’ He stated, pulling the trigger and sending Marcus stumbling backwards

‘NO!’ Ada screamed as she threw herself to his side, catching him as his legs gave out beneath him ‘Marcus…. Marcus look at me.’ she pleaded, shaking him as his eyes darted around the room in shock.

The agent rolled his head to look at her, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to suck in a pained breath. He could feel his shirt soaking quickly with the crimson lifeblood that gushed from the bullet wound to his abdomen. Ada’s shaking hands desperately tried to keep pressure on it as she held him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. She leaned him against the counter and tore her cardigan from her shoulder, pressing it down hard on Marcus’ stomach which elicited a pained moan from the agent.

‘Well I’m sure this isn’t how you saw breakfast going.’ he joked, placing a shaky hand on hers.

‘Not exactly no.’ She replied, smiling at him grimly as she watched her cream cardigan slowly turn red.

The phone to the cafe rang and the leader answered, screaming his demands to the police on the other end.

‘You will give us what we want or the Federal Agent that’s currently bleeding out on the floor isn’t going to make it.’ he growled, shooting a look at Pike ‘You give us what we want or Agent Pike will die… You have one hour.’ he finished, slamming the handset down on the counter and storming off.

Time seemed to crawl by. Ada watched the minutes ticked by, willing time to go faster as she felt Marcus slipping away from her. Half an hour passed and his skin tone had taken on a sickly grey shade, dark bags forming under his eyes as each breath came in short, laboured pants. She watched as his eyes start to droop, panic rising inside her as his head dipped.

‘Stay with me.’ she pleaded, lifting his head so that she could look him in the eye ‘You need to stay awake.’

‘Talk to me.’ he asked, leaning into her touch.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘’Will you go on another date with me?’ he asked suddenly, taking Ada by surprise.

‘What?’

‘I want to take you out on another date.’ he stated, giving her a weak smile.

‘Of course, I’ll go on another date with you Marcus.’ She sobbed, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

‘G-good.’ he stuttered, feeling his strength start to seep away.

‘And then afterwards I want you to stay with me.’ She continued, desperately trying to keep him with her a little longer ‘I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, I have a posh coffee machine that makes amazing coffee. Then we’ll spend all day watching old movies, eating junk food and making out.’

‘Sound’s good.’ He replied, smirking at her weakly.

Ada watched as he started to lose the fight, his lips taking on a startling shade of blue as breathing got harder and harder. A sudden cough painted his lips with blood splatters and her stomach sank. She knew the longer they waited, the less time Marcus had left. Grabbing a napkin from the counter above, she wiped the blood from his lips before placing a soft kiss on them. Marcus felt his heart flutter at the feeling of her soft lips on his, kissing her back before everything went black.

~§~

Chapter 2