#Smart Parking Systems Share

[rushikesh-d]

Smart Parking System Market To Witness the Highest Growth Globally in Coming Years

The report begins with an overview of the Smart Parking System Market 2025 Size and presents throughout its development. It provides a comprehensive analysis of all regional and key player segments providing closer insights into current market conditions and future market opportunities, along with drivers, trend segments, consumer behavior, price factors, and market performance and estimates. Forecast market information, SWOT analysis, Smart Parking System Market scenario, and feasibility study are the important aspects analyzed in this report.

The Smart Parking System Market is experiencing robust growth driven by the expanding globally. The Smart Parking System Market is poised for substantial growth as manufacturers across various industries embrace automation to enhance productivity, quality, and agility in their production processes. Smart Parking System Market leverage robotics, machine vision, and advanced control technologies to streamline assembly tasks, reduce labor costs, and minimize errors. With increasing demand for customized products, shorter product lifecycles, and labor shortages, there is a growing need for flexible and scalable automation solutions. As technology advances and automation becomes more accessible, the adoption of automated assembly systems is expected to accelerate, driving market growth and innovation in manufacturing. Smart Parking System Market Size, Share & Industry Analysis, By Type (Off-Street Parking, On-Street Parking), By Component (Sensor, Cameras, Parking Meter, Central Server, Management Software, Mobile App), By End-User (Private, Government) Others and Regional Forecast, 2021-2028

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Key Strategies

Key strategies in the Smart Parking System Market revolve around optimizing production efficiency, quality, and flexibility. Integration of advanced robotics and machine vision technologies streamlines assembly processes, reducing cycle times and error rates. Customization options cater to diverse product requirements and manufacturing environments, ensuring solution scalability and adaptability. Collaboration with industry partners and automation experts fosters innovation and addresses evolving customer needs and market trends. Moreover, investment in employee training and skill development facilitates seamless integration and operation of Smart Parking System Market. By prioritizing these strategies, manufacturers can enhance competitiveness, accelerate time-to-market, and drive sustainable growth in the Smart Parking System Market.

Major Smart Parking System Market Manufacturers covered in the market report include:

The major players that are present in the global smart parking System market include Intercomp S.p.A., Seimens AG, Indect Electronics & Distribution GmbH, Continental AG, Comarch SA., among others.

The smart parking system is customizable to any parking lot, coupled with a requirement of fewer human resources to operate the parking zone. The high investment is required for the setup of the smart parking system, and this factor is likely to hamper the growth of the smart parking system market over the forecast period.

Trends Analysis

The Smart Parking System Market is experiencing rapid expansion fueled by the manufacturing industry's pursuit of efficiency and productivity gains. Key trends include the adoption of collaborative robotics and advanced automation technologies to streamline assembly processes and reduce labor costs. With the rise of Industry 4.0 initiatives, manufacturers are investing in flexible and scalable Smart Parking System Market capable of handling diverse product portfolios. Moreover, advancements in machine vision and AI-driven quality control are enhancing production throughput and ensuring product consistency. The emphasis on sustainability and lean manufacturing principles is driving innovation in energy-efficient and eco-friendly Smart Parking System Market Solutions.

Regions Included in this Smart Parking System Market Report are as follows:

North America [U.S., Canada, Mexico]

Europe [Germany, UK, France, Italy, Rest of Europe]

Asia-Pacific [China, India, Japan, South Korea, Southeast Asia, Australia, Rest of Asia Pacific]

South America [Brazil, Argentina, Rest of Latin America]

Middle East & Africa [GCC, North Africa, South Africa, Rest of the Middle East and Africa]

Significant Features that are under offering and key highlights of the reports:

- Detailed overview of the Smart Parking System Market.

- Changing the Smart Parking System Market dynamics of the industry.

- In-depth market segmentation by Type, Application, etc.

- Historical, current, and projected Smart Parking System Market size in terms of volume and value.

- Recent industry trends and developments.

- Competitive landscape of the Smart Parking System Market.

- Strategies of key players and product offerings.

- Potential and niche segments/regions exhibiting promising growth.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs):

► What is the current market scenario?

► What was the historical demand scenario, and forecast outlook from 2025 to 2032?

► What are the key market dynamics influencing growth in the Global Smart Parking System Market?

► Who are the prominent players in the Global Smart Parking System Market?

► What is the consumer perspective in the Global Smart Parking System Market?

► What are the key demand-side and supply-side trends in the Global Smart Parking System Market?

► What are the largest and the fastest-growing geographies?

► Which segment dominated and which segment is expected to grow fastest?

► What was the COVID-19 impact on the Global Smart Parking System Market?

Table Of Contents:

1 Market Overview

1.1 Smart Parking System Market Introduction

1.2 Market Analysis by Type

1.3 Market Analysis by Applications

1.4 Market Analysis by Regions

1.4.1 North America (United States, Canada and Mexico)

1.4.1.1 United States Market States and Outlook 

1.4.1.2 Canada Market States and Outlook 

1.4.1.3 Mexico Market States and Outlook 

1.4.2 Europe (Germany, France, UK, Russia and Italy)

1.4.2.1 Germany Market States and Outlook

1.4.2.2 France Market States and Outlook 

1.4.2.3 UK Market States and Outlook

1.4.2.4 Russia Market States and Outlook 

1.4.2.5 Italy Market States and Outlook 

1.4.3 Asia-Pacific (China, Japan, Korea, India and Southeast Asia)

1.4.3.1 China Market States and Outlook

1.4.3.2 Japan Market States and Outlook 

1.4.3.3 Korea Market States and Outlook 

1.4.3.4 India Market States and Outlook 

1.4.3.5 Southeast Asia Market States and Outlook 

1.4.4 South America, Middle East and Africa

1.4.4.1 Brazil Market States and Outlook

1.4.4.2 Egypt Market States and Outlook 

1.4.4.3 Saudi Arabia Market States and Outlook 

1.4.4.4 South Africa Market States and Outlook 

1.5 Market Dynamics

1.5.1 Market Opportunities

1.5.2 Market Risk

1.5.3 Market Driving Force

2 Manufacturers Profiles

Continued…

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[kenresearch1]

Smart Parking for Smart Cities: Unveiling the Future of US Parking Management

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What is the Size of US Parking Management Industry?

US Parking Management industry is growing at a CAGR of ~% in 2017-2022 and is expected to reach ~USD Bn by 2028. The parking management in the United States is a substantial industry, driven by factors such as urbanization, increasing vehicle ownership & the need for efficient parking solutions.

The market consists of various types of parking facilities: on-street parking, off-street parking lots, garages & parking structures. These facilities are managed by municipalities, private companies & commercial property owners. Numerous companies specialize in providing comprehensive parking solutions. They offer services such as parking facility, design, operations, maintenance, security & revenue management. Advancement in technology has significantly impacted the parking management solutions. Many parking systems incorporate smart parking systems including sensors, cameras & mobile applications, to optimize parking space utilization & enhance overall user experience.

Cashless payment methods such as mobile apps & contactless payment systems have gained popularity, making it more convenient for drivers to pay for parking & reducing the reliance on traditional-based parking systems. The emergence of ride-sharing & micro-mobility services (e.g., scooters, bikes) & autonomous vehicles have the potential to reshape the parking management landscape. Parking companies are exploring partnerships & solutions to accommodate these new mobility options.

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Us parking management Market by parking sites

The US Parking Management market is segmented by Type into On-street and Off-Street. Off-street market, where individuals & businesses rent parking spaces outside of traditional parking lots or garages, has been a dominant segment in 2022. As urban areas continue to expand, the demand for parking spaces continues to exceed the supply. In densely populated cities, traditional parking facilities may not be able to keep up with the increasing demands, leading to emergence of off parking solutions.

Us parking management Market by deployment

US Parking Management market is segmented by Deployment type into On-premise and Cloud. The on-premise segment has been dominant in the market in 2022. On-premise segment offers various benefits which include enhanced security, reduced chances of downtime & better accessibility. Organizations have better control over data, as data doesn’t leave the organization’s premises leading to better data protections. Additionally, many firms rely on this method because of its enhanced reliability; in case of network failure & if the network connection is interrupted, employees can still access data & avoid downtime

Us parking management Market by Region

The US Parking Management market is segmented by Region into North, South, East & West North region of United States which includes cities like New York, Chicago & Boston have been the dominant force in the market in 2022.

These are densely populated cities which demand effective utilization of parking spaces. & experience challenges associated with urban congestion. It involves a mix of metered street parking, parked garages & permit systems for residents. These cities have been in the forefront of implementing advanced marketing technologies & innovative management strategies.

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Competition Scenario in US parking management Market

The parking management systems industry in US is undergoing significant changes due to technological advancements & evolving customer preferences. Parking management systems are increasingly incorporated by advanced technologies such as IoT (Internet of Things), data analytics & artificial intelligence. This allowed for real time monitoring of parking spaces, predictive analysis for parking availability.

The COVID-19 pandemic accelerated the adoption of contactless payment & reservation systems. Parking operators are focusing on providing touchless payment options, mobile-based booking & license plate recognitions for seamless entry & exit. Smart parking systems which involve sensors & cameras to monitor parking space availability & relay that information to users, have been gaining popularity. These systems not only enhance user convenience, but also enable parking facility operators to optimize space utilization.

The rise of ride-sharing services, electric vehicles & autonomous vehicles was impacting parking demand & patterns. Some parking management systems were adopting to accommodate electric vehicle charging stations & to potentially integrate with autonomous vehicle infrastructure in the future.

The parking sector saw the emergence of various start-ups offering innovative solutions, ranging from parking reservation platforms to parking space sharing services. Established companies have been adapting to changing landscapes by offering new technologies & features. This included companies providing parking equipment (kiosks & barriers), software solutions & consulting services.

What is the Expected Future Outlook for the Overall US parking management Market?

The US Parking Management market was valued at USD ~billion in 2022 and is anticipated to reach USD ~ billion by the end of 2028, witnessing a CAGR of ~% during the forecast period 2022-2028. The realistic growth scenario represents the most likely scenario as per current market conditions. This scenario assumes that there will be no overall impact on the market due to any potential COVID-19 waves in the future.

As cities continue to grow & urbanization increases, the demand for parking services will also rise. Smart parking solutions, including sensor-based parking systems, real-time analytics & mobile apps are likely to become more prevalent. These solutions can help drivers find available parking spaces quickly, reducing congestion & overall traffic flow.

The Internet of Things (IoT) will play a significant role in the parking management system, are expected to become standard in parking facilities. IoT enabled sensors & devices can provide real time data on parking space availability, traffic patterns & even vehicle emissions. This data can be used to optimize parking operations, reduce energy consumption & enhance the overall parking experience. Contactless payment methods, such as mobile wallets & RFID based systems are expected to become standard in parking facilities. This trend has been accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Parking management will be closely integrated with urban planning efforts. Cities will focus on designing smarter transportation systems that will promote sustainable mobility, which might lead to an emphasis on personal car ownership. This could result in a shift towards mixed-use developments where parking structures are designed to be more flexible & adaptable to changing transportation trends.

Advanced data analytics will enable parking operators to gain valuable insights to usage patterns, peak hours & revenue generation. This information can help optimize pricing strategies, improve resource allocation & enhance overall customer satisfaction. Government policies & regulations related to parking may continue to evolve. These changes will shape the way parking is managed & priced, encouraging more sustainable & efficient transportation.

[vynzresearchreport]

Global Smart Parking Systems Market Size, Share & Trends Analysis Report by Technology, Component, Application, End-User, and Region, Forecast to 2027

The global smart parking systems market is expected to grow at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 20.56% from 2023 to 2030. The market is being driven by the increasing demand for smart parking solutions in urban areas, the rising adoption of connected and autonomous vehicles, and the growing government initiatives to promote smart cities.

Get a free sample copy of the research report: https://www.vynzresearch.com/automotive-transportation/smart-parking-systems-market/request-sample

Market Drivers

Increasing demand for smart parking solutions in urban areas: The increasing number of vehicles in urban areas is leading to a shortage of parking spaces. Smart parking systems can help to address this problem by providing real-time information about available parking spaces, as well as by automating the parking process.

Rising adoption of connected and autonomous vehicles: Connected and autonomous vehicles (CAVs) are expected to increase the demand for smart parking systems. CAVs will be able to communicate with parking systems and automatically find available parking spaces.

Growing government initiatives to promote smart cities: Governments around the world are promoting smart cities, which are cities that use technology to improve the efficiency and sustainability of their operations. Smart parking systems are an important part of smart cities, as they can help to reduce traffic congestion and improve air quality.

Market Segmentation

The global smart parking systems market is segmented by component, solution, technology, and region.

By component: The market is segmented into hardware, software, and services. The hardware segment is further segmented into sensors, meters, and controllers. The software segment is further segmented into parking guidance and management systems, and enforcement systems. The services segment includes installation, maintenance, and consulting services.

By solution: The market is segmented into on-street parking, off-street parking, and valet parking. The on-street parking segment is the largest segment of the market, as it is the most common type of parking in urban areas.

By technology: The market is segmented into wireless technology, wired technology, and sensor technology. The wireless technology segment is the largest segment of the market, as it is the most cost-effective and efficient way to transmit data.

By region: The market is segmented into North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America, and the Middle East and Africa. North America is the largest market for smart parking systems, followed by Europe and Asia Pacific.

Competitive Landscape

The competitive landscape of the global smart parking systems market is fragmented, with a large number of small and medium-sized players. However, there are also a few large players, such as Cisco Systems, Inc., ParkMe, Inc., and Smart Parking Systems, Inc.

Market Trends

Some of the key trends in the global smart parking systems market include:

The increasing adoption of cloud-based solutions

The growing use of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning (ML) in smart parking systems

The increasing popularity of mobile parking apps

The growing demand for smart parking solutions in the developing countries

Conclusion

The global smart parking systems market is expected to grow at a significant CAGR during the forecast period. The market is being driven by the increasing demand for smart parking solutions in urban areas, the rising adoption of connected and autonomous vehicles, and the growing government initiatives to promote smart cities.

Source: VynZ Research

[cinnamon7girl7]

"WHAT'S MINE IS YOURS"

Being married to Satoru Gojo didn’t just mean sharing a bed, a house, or a last name. It meant sharing your life with someone who loved you absurdly — someone who never understood, and never will understand, the concept of boundaries.

You had your own missions.

Your cursed technique.

A well-built life long before you ever met him.

But from the moment you stepped into his world, Satoru decided that no part of you would ever be alone again. Not your exhaustion. Not your hunger. Not even your most simple little preferences.

The first time you said your feet hurt after a mission, a week later you had a high-tech imported massage chair with a smart footrest and a robe with your name embroidered on it.

One night, he canceled a meeting with his clan elders just to come back home, crawl into bed with you, and wrap his arms around you.

—The only urgent thing on my schedule is you —he whispered, without even taking off his coat.

His gestures were constant, subtle... and sometimes incredibly ridiculous.

Other times, if he found out you’d had a rough night, he’d wake you up with a breakfast cooked by private chefs in his kitchen.

Once, he spent over six million dollars just so you could see snow on your birthday for the first time… in the middle of August.

He had an entire climate-control system installed at one of his properties in Dubai, imported realistic artificial snow from Japan, and had a fake alpine village built in the garden.

The team helping him included meteorologists, movie set designers, and a group of dancers dressed as penguins who showed up at the end with an igloo-shaped cake.

—You said you wanted “pretty snow, like in the movies” —he told you with a proud grin, while you cried in your thermal robe and bunny-ear slippers.

—And I want every birthday of yours to be better than the last. So… get ready.

If he noticed you were quiet or down, he would shut down five floors of a luxury shopping mall just so you could walk around in peace, no crowds, no noise.

—The world’s being annoying today, babe. So no world. Just you… and the window displays —he’d say, carrying your bags like they weighed nothing.

Sometimes he even paid millions so that an amusement park would open just for the two of you for one night. Not because you loved the rides… but because you told him you’d never been to one as a kid. That night, he let you ride the Ferris wheel a thousand times, just to see you laugh.

And if he noticed you were happy… he gave you even more reasons to be.

Once, he hired Chanel’s head designer to make you a custom dress in less than 24 hours, just because you said “nothing I have fits for tonight’s dinner.”

Another time, he decorated an entire room just because he heard you say “I need a space just for me.” You didn’t say anything when you saw the library with new shelves, the aroma diffuser, the soft blanket on the perfect chair. You just hugged him.

—You deserve to be comfortable. Always. I don’t like that you’re unhappy in our little home because… I want to give you that. All of it —he said.

By “little home” he meant, of course, his modest three-story mansion with a Japanese garden, heated pool, and a walk-in closet that looked like it came out of a fashion magazine.

Because for him, the size of the place didn’t matter if you didn’t feel at peace there. And if that meant gifting you an entire tower just for yourself, he would do it again without hesitation.

Not even when he replaced all the chairs in the private cinema because you once mentioned that velvet irritated you. The next day, the furniture was soft leather, with cashmere blankets and a sound system that made you feel inside the movie.

Not even when he ordered croissants from Paris, flown in by private jet, because you joked that “nothing tastes the same since I came back from my trip.”

You didn’t question it when he planted a whole garden of flowers that only bloom at night, you said nothing. He just took your hand one early morning and led you outside, under the moon, to show it to you.

Or when he had a perfume made that smelled exactly like your freshly washed hair. He didn’t tell you. He just wore it one night when he had to travel, and when you hugged him, you felt your own scent wrap around you like an invisible ribbon.

Not even when he reserved a planetarium just for the two of you and rearranged the constellations to spell your name.

—Because there’s no star I find more beautiful than you, darling —he said, in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

And he meant it.

Not out of obligation, but as a personal desire —and you knew you couldn’t stop him. Not even when he bought you 10 identical pairs of Louboutin heels just because “he didn’t know which color you liked more.”

Not even when he bought a private island just because you said you wanted to “sunbathe without hearing people talking nearby.” He furnished the whole place in two days, with exclusive chefs, an endless bar, and a 3-meter-wide bed just so you could sleep like a queen.

And much less when he installed a heating system in your studio because you said, half asleep, “I hate when my feet get cold while I’m working.”

One night, while the city lights shone through the tall windows of his office, Satoru was reviewing papers with a half-finished glass beside him.

His phone vibrated on the desk. He answered without hurry, without even looking at the number.

—Gojo?

—Mr. Gojo, good evening —said the voice on the other end—. We’re calling to confirm a transaction attempting to process from your joint account with Mrs. Gojo. The amount is four million seven hundred thousand dollars. Do you authorize it?

He smiled, leaning back in his chair.

—Of course I do.

—Are you sure?

—If she’s the one buying it, don’t even ask me.

And he hung up with that calm of his, as if approving a multimillion-dollar purchase was as easy as breathing.

Because for Satoru, it didn’t matter what it was. If it was for you, it was always worth it.

One afternoon you came back from an exhausting mission. Everything hurt, you didn’t want to talk, just sleep.

But when you opened the door, you found something that left you speechless.

Lilies.

White lilies. Blue lilies. Oriental lilies, in big and small vases, marble flower pots, crystal bowls, and even in a teacup on the table.

There were petals on the stairs, tall stems in the corners, bouquets gently swaying with the breeze from the open windows.

The scent was delicate, enveloping. Familiar.

You walked among them with wide eyes, your heart racing, as if you had been transported to another world. In every corner, a small note:

“Here I took your hand for the first time.” “Here I realized I never wanted to let go.” “Here I knew you were my home.”

Satoru appeared at the end of the hallway. Smiling, without glasses, messy hair, wearing a light blue shirt half unbuttoned.

—Happy anniversary of the first “click” —he said—. I don’t remember what we ate that day… but I perfectly remember how your hand fit in mine.

And since then, I haven’t stopped wanting to repeat it.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

So you did the only logical thing: you threw yourself into his arms, among lilies, among notes with memories, and surrounded by the scent of a kind of love money can’t buy.

He held you like always: as if you were the only thing he’d ever let fall.

I’ll be posting a long feed about Streamer!Gojo tomorrow, so hope you enjoy this one for now!

[lilmarshie]

Since requests are open do you think you could do Bob with a reader who has chronic pain/illness? My pain has increased majorly over the last few months and could really use a little comfort right now 🥲

Caring for You

Bob Reynolds x Reader Headcanons

Bob cares for you while you’re dealing with chronic pain but he makes it all better and helps your worries to go away.

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! I hope that you enjoy!

Bob is all about helping to make your shared space together a safe haven where you can go when you’re feeling under the weather. This space is filled with the softest blankets, fluffiest pillows, best snacks, and the one that you love–Bob. He ensures that this space is at the perfect temperature to help you with flare ups and any discomfort. Bob installed a smart thermostat with a wireless remote to help you be able to adjust the temperature in the room without leaving your bed.

Bob helps you stay on top of your medications without being overbearing about it. He sets reminders for you, picks up your prescriptions, runs to the store if you need him to, and makes a detailed chart to help you stay on track. This man has thought about anything and everything that you may need at any time. He is also a great advocate to speak on your behalf when you need that extra help from your care providers and doctors.

Bob knows the importance of daily exercise and being able to stay focused on the goals at hand. Whether big or small, Bob helps you with simple training exercises that, help you to not be too overwhelmed. These exercises are quick and effective and help target those areas of your body that need some extra attention. He's happy to join you for gentle walks, stretching sessions, or even just some light yoga. He'll always adjust the pace to match your energy levels and never push you beyond what you're comfortable with.

When the pain is really unbearable Bob creates the perfect distractions from the pain. He reads you chapters from your favorite books, watches funny movies with you, or starts a short conversation about random things. This helps to not have your mind wander to the pain that you’re experiencing. He also knows all the best spots for a change of scenery, like a cozy coffee shop or a quiet park.

Bob is your biggest cheerleader and confidant during these trials. He listens without judgment when you need to vent about your pain or frustrations. He celebrates your small victories and reminds you of your strength and resilience. He's also not afraid to show his own vulnerability, which helps you feel less alone in your struggles.

Bob knows that taking care of yourself is essential, so he encourages you to prioritize self-care activities. He will draw you a bath, make you a cup of tea, or give you a gentle massage. He also reminds you to take breaks when you need them and to say no to things that will drain your energy.

Bob is always willing to go to bat for you. He will research your condition, attend doctor's appointments with you, and help you navigate the healthcare system. He's also not afraid to challenge medical professionals if he feels like your needs aren't being met.

Above all else, Bob loves you unconditionally no matter what. He understands that your illness is a part of you, but it doesn't define you. He's committed to supporting you through thick and thin, and he'll always be there to remind you of your worth.

[chvoswxtch]

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger. 

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that. 

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it. 

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language. 

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes. 

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier. 

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you. 

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively. 

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss. 

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one. 

Single. 

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you. 

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene. 

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had. 

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination? 

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on. 

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered. 

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval. 

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night. 

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat. 

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear. 

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to. 

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes. 

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh. 

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck. 

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you. 

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it. 

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross. 

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you. 

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark. 

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze. 

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over. 

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom. 

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose. 

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission. 

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath. 

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel. 

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him. 

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone. 

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation? 

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Chapter 4: So It Goes...

18++++++***** MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT. Mentions of death. P n V, unprotected (wrap it up folks). Oral receiving, fingering. but really this is the chapter you've been waiting for. 😘🥵🥵 *** I wrote this chapter to the song So it Goes by Taylor Swift**

(not my picture. Photo cred: Pinterest)

Dani got home a little later. She spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh and the super hot kiss they shared. The words he said to her, making her mind race. He had asked her to maybe get coffee and maybe if they did that and she got to know him, it would help get him out of her mind. She decided she was going to ask him that day. 

After the grueling day of filming they had, Dani saw Hugh walking back to his trailer and decided it was now or never. 

“Hugh,” she called out. He turned around, a smile crossing his face. 

“What’s up darlin’?” he asked. 

“Would you like to get coffee with me?” 

“When?” he asked. 

“Now? Or whenever you’re done?” she replied. 

“Let me get changed.” 

“Cool, I’ll be in my trailer.” 

As she waited for Hugh in her trailer, scrolling her phone, her heart began to race. It was going to be just the two of them. It’s fine. You’re just co-stars, maybe potential friends. Get him out of your system, he’s old enough to be your father. She was lost in her overthinking when there was a knock on her trailer door. 

“Come in,” she said, as the door began to swing open. Hugh walked in, wearing his signature tight black t-shirt and jeans. Goddammit he’s fine. 

“Hi darlin’. Are you ready?” he asked. Dani nodded. They began to walk over to where their cars were parked. “Want me to drive?” 

“That’s fine,” she answered. A smile crossed his face as he opened the passenger door for her. She had a surprised look on her face when he got in the car. 

“What’s the look for?” he asked with a laugh. 

“I’ve never had a guy do that for me before and I’m from the South,” she replied. Hugh started up the car as they took off. 

“Well, sounds like you haven’t been around real gentlemen.” The comment took Dani aback, but it made her smile as they looked for a coffee shop. 

A little while later, they found a perfect little coffee shop out of the way as they sat there together. 

“Other than you being extremely feisty and can fucking sing, tell me more about yourself,” Hugh started. Dani looked taken aback, but she was ready. She took a sip of her latte and began talking. 

“Well, I’m originally from Georgia. My real name is Danielle Olivia James-Levy, but because of the Levy acting family, I chose to go by Danielle James, my mother’s maiden name. I went to school for Business, thinking I wasn’t going to go into the family business, but fell in love with theater when I was there and got a dual major.” 

“Wow, beautiful and smart. I knew you acted, but I didn’t know you did theater. Is that where the singing comes from?,” Hugh asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, it’s something I don’t get to do a whole lot of. I would do small shows in between acting gigs, while working a real job, until something happened. The singing thing on the other hand, that’s something I’ve done since I was kid. I’d walk around singing, enough for everyone to tell me to shut up once in a while.” She looked over at Hugh who couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “So, enough about me. How about you?” 

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Well, there isn’t too much about me that you can’t find online. Well, other than what I mentioned to you the other day.” 

“I’m sorry you’re going through that. Do you want to talk about it?” Dani asked. Hugh’s eyes got soft, almost like sadness came through them. 

“We don’t have to sweetheart,” he started. 

“You listened to me and I promised you I’d listen,” a warm smile crossed her face. 

“Well, my ex-wife and I had been married for almost 27 years. We met back on a TV show in Australia. She was older and I thought she was out of my league, but it worked out. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to have biological children of our own, but we adopted two wonderful kids. Now that the kids are older and have their own lives, I guess during Covid, we were spending so much time together, it felt more like a friendship than a marriage and got worse during the writer’s strike. We did everything we could to save it, but we both felt like the relationship had run its course. It just feels weird.” 

“Like you’ve been in the relationship so long, you don’t know where to go next. I mean I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing of that caliber. I commend you for making a relationship work in Hollywood, especially when you’re as big a star as you are.You just don’t see that anymore.” “That’s very sweet,” he answered. “I’m curious about something you didn’t mention. Shawn is your Uncle, how’s the relation work?” 

Dani took a long sip of her latte before beginning. “Well, My dad was Shawn’s older brother, but passed away in a car accident when I was 25. It was something we asked to keep out of the public and the reason I shelved my dreams for a while. My mom still lives in Georgia with her new husband, finally happy again.” She looked over at him and he had a surprised look on his face.

His hand reached across the table, grabbing hers. “I’m sorry about you dad, sweetheart. I lost mine in 2020, his eyes meeting hers. The more she was around this man, she was finding it harder to not want to be with him. Fuck the age difference. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your dad too,” she replied as he squeezed her hand. She kept looking over at him, not being able to take her eyes off of the gorgeous man in front of her and it looked like he was on the same page. “I guess it's getting late.” 

He nodded as they left the cafe and got into his car. He opened her door for her as he took off. He turned on some music and So it Goes… by Taylor Swift began to drift through the radio. She glanced over at Hugh driving and felt her heart racing, not knowing what was going to happen next. He caught her stare as his hand reached over and found her leg. They stopped at a red light as Dani went for it. 

“Hugh,” she breathed, coming over the center console and kissing him. He reciprocated, but then the light changed. “I’m sorry…,” she started. Before she could get the words out, he pulled the car over in a dark alley as he came over the center console and kissed her. Their lips and tongues in a hot tangled mess. Dani reached for anything she could, to be closer to this man. He pulled back and cupped her face. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop myself and I won’t unless you want me to,” he started. 

“Your place or mine?” Dani breathed. Hugh drove to his flat immediately. 

They all but kicked down the door to his flat as they stayed intertwined. The second the door shut behind them, Hugh picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as his hands cupped her ass, their kissing, feverish. 

As they fell on the bed, he braced himself above her, getting lost in her green eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. She nodded her head as she sat up and yanked her shirt over her head followed by her bra and threw them on the floor. He followed suit and his shirt ended up in the pile on the floor. He went for the waistband of her leggings, slowly pulling them down with her panties. “Fuck,” he groaned, taking in the naked woman in his bed. 

“Pants off, Jackman,” she ordered, a smirk on her face. 

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, undoing his belt, and kicking off his pants and boxers, crawling over her. 

Dani propped herself up on her elbows and looked at the man in front of her. He may be 55 years old, but he was built like a fucking god. From the way his muscles bulged to the way his v-line was sculpted. Then she caught sight of the happy trail of hair that led to his perfect dick. God he was huge. 

He began kissing her lips before moving to her neck, making her arch into him. He liked her reaction as he continued down her body, to her breasts as he circled each peak with his tongue, while never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” she moaned. He added to her pleasure as she felt the pad of his finger on her clit. 

“Sweetheart, so wet for me,” he groaned, moving down her body and to her pussy. His tongue began soft strokes, before he plugged right in. She cried out at that feeling as she grabbed for his hair as he pulled her down to the end of the bed to devour her even more. The feeling of his facial hair added to the pleasure. 

This man has experience. 

“I can’t…,” she cried out, letting her orgasm go. 

“God, you taste so good sweetheart,” he replied, wiping her juices from his beard and moving back over her. He stilled above her for a moment, realizing something. “Princess, I wasn’t planning on sex tonight, so I’m not prepared.” 

“I’m on birth control, Hugh. I need you too much to stop now,” Dani answered, pulling him down to her as their lips locked and she tasted herself on him. His long fingers found her soaking core as he began pumping just enough to get her honey on him as he stroked it down his cock. He grabbed ahold of himself as he teased her with his tip at her entrance. 

“You ready sweetheart?” he asked. Dani nodded as he began to push himself inside. He stilled for a moment at how tight she was and that if he began to move, he might just bust. 

“Move, please,” she begged. His hips began to move slowly, savoring every moment with Dani. The hold this woman had on him in a short amount of time was baffling, but god, did he feel something with her. Her lips on his, her nails digging into his back, the way she molded to him. 

Dani’s hip movements began to meet his own and he felt like he might be a goner. He grabbed her hands with his, interlacing their fingers, pressing them into the mattress sending them both spirling and fast. “God sweetheart, you are fucking perfect,” he said, kissing her. 

Her heart began to race again as electricity shot through her body at his words and his movements as she clenched down on him and hard. He wanted to be as close to her as possible as his forehead touched hers as he knew he was done for. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he chased his own release, white-hot ropes, coating her insides. He finished as he stayed locked on her, both panting and sweaty. The connection between the two of them, intensifying. He pulled out as their releases flooded out of Dani, turning Hugh on even more. He got out of bed to his bathroom to clean up and brought her back a towel. 

“Sorry, the old man hasn’t done this in a while, so I wasn’t prepared,” he said with a laugh, getting back in bed. 

“You’re fine,” she replied. 

“Come here,” he said, offering his arm. Dani moved over and cuddled into him as he kissed her forehead. “Did the old man do ok?” he asked. 

“More than ok. You were fucking phenominal,” she replied, drawing circles on his chest and feeling across his toned abs. “Can I tell you something?” He raised an eyebrow at her question. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” 

“First of all, stop calling yourself old man. Second, I may have known what you looked like from your movies, but until I saw you at dinner, I never knew how attracted I was to you. I went home that night and the night after you came to my trailer and got myself off to the thoughts of you.”

Hugh began stroking her hair. “Well, sweetheart, that’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say, but since the night of the dinner, I can’t be in a room and not think about the bad things I want to do to you.” 

“So, it sounds like we’re on the same page,” she answered, putting her head on his chest. 

“Yes sweetheart, it does,” he answered. Hugh interlaced their hands, wrapping his arms tighter around her, knowing that with Dani he felt a new chapter of happiness. 

[uselessalexis165]

Jackie’s Older Siblings

———

[2nd slide]

J: So, why exactly did you want to see me again?

B: What? Can’t a woman just reconnect with her baby sister?

[3rd slide]

J: And this is… ?

S: A present, silly! It’s from me and the others to welcome you as our new sister!

[4th slide]

J: Type “KYS” and that’ll make him fuck off.

G: What if I told him to “take a long walk off a short pier?”

J: Even better!

[5th slide]

C: You, super, super sure I look smart in this?

J: You look a lot more professional than me.

———

I wanted to add Breezie and the S6 Squad into my AU just cuz I thought it would be fun.

They don’t really have a major role in this. They’re mostly just a family support system besides Belle for Jackie, until she can work things out with Eggman (which will take some time).

Breezie and her older brothers all ran away from Eggman after Jackie replaced them. When Eggman abandoned Casino Park after his failed attempts to take down Sonic, Breezie took over the business, completely cutting Eggman out from any access to his old stomping grounds.

For her business, she doesn’t have any grudges, or ill intention towards the Restoration like with Clutch and Clean Sweep Inc. She purposely makes sure Casino Park has no contact with Sonic and his friends. And she especially tries to avoid anyone involved with Eggman, all to keep her business safe. But she does keeps an ear open for any gossip revolving him, just to make sure he won’t try anything against her.

Rumors have been circulating that Eggman has been losing his touch: falling victim to his own virus, losing his best weapon, and even Clean Sweep Inc. were making off him along with many other instances. With the mention of Eggman’s finest creation was “now lost,” Breezie did some digging and learned that Metal Sonic was no longer a part of Eggman’s utilities. With some extra digging, she found out that Metal Sonic had not only joined the Restoration, but also transitioned to become who she is now, Jackie the Hedgehog.

Still petty towards Eggman, Breezie uses this chance to reconnect with her younger sister, even though they haven’t interacted that much before she left with her brothers. If she can out class Eggman with taking over his failed casino, then why not rub in more salt into the wound then by being on good terms with his once greatest creation.

When Breezie goes out to find Jackie and proclaim she wants to “reconnect with her sister,” Jackie doesn’t believe it at first. She knows that her older sister didn’t care to interact with her when she was first onlined. That same thought being shared among her older brothers. But within time, not only does Jackie open up to her older siblings, they begin to view her as family back.

[cat-autism-wizard]

five times danny's english class learned that he was phantom (and one time he had to reveal it)

5 - kwan

kwan wasnt stupid. everyone seemed to think so but he wasnt stupid, not really. sure he needed more time to learn basic things from his peers but he wasnt stupid. he was a genius in sports. he was naturally strong and he loved physical activities and was great at it.

after the ghost attacks started, he became protective because of it. he would shield his friends and would help people escape. he was good at it and loved keeping people safe.

he was really lucky about it too. his best friends were really strong. dash was almost as buff as kwan and he was also great at sports. dale was even stronger than kwan and he was such a sweet guy. star and paulina were cheerleaders and kwan was positive that if five of them were to race paulina would beat them so easily and star would be the second only to paulina.

four of them would go to nasty burger after school and dale would meet them there since he had to pick his brother up from middle school.

they got close pretty easily with the high school starting. kwan knew dash since elementary school. they were best friends. then paulina, dale and valerie joined them in the middle school and in high school theyve met star. valerie stopped hanging out with them after a while. kwan knew it was because of the unfair system of 'popularity' and he didnt like it. he still liked valerie as a friend. sure she was mean when he was angry but she was still one of the people kwan grew to care so much. and when paulina dated fenton (she still claims that she does not remember that happening) kwan actually get to see how tucker and sam really were and he enjoyed their company even if he couldnt admit it.

for the worse or the better in the ghost attacks none of those things mattered. no one cared if the victim of the attack was someone popular or not. they just protected each other. they lived in amity park, everyone had each other's back in the most haunted city in the world.

one day as they were waiting for dale, a ghost attacked the popular fast food restaurant. four of them shared a look and they took action. dash opened the doors and helped people get out. star texted dale to update him while paulina's eyes searched if anyone needed help. kwan was helping people to calm down and get out safely.

as people were getting out of the building he saw three people still talking. he realized that it was the 'loser trio'. they looked distressed. manson and foley looked like they were telling something to fenton, kwan wasnt in the hearing range, then they got out from the door dash was holding while fenton went out from the back door. which was not safe in any possible way. the ghost was close to the back door.

kwan rushed to the back door. he heard star and paulina scream but he knew they werent alone, dash was with them. and kwan knew star and paulina could take care of themselves. kwan knew them. they were stronger than most people he knew and their endurance was higher than anyone he knew. he was pretty sure if they gained some courage they would surpass him in helping people with how strong and smart they are.

but fenton on the other hand, was weak. he saw him in the PE class and it was almost sad to watch the boy try. he could swear fenton almost pass out when doing the basic exercises. kwan didnt care that fenton's parents were ghost hunters, fenton was not them and he wasnt sure if the boy could survive a ghost just by himself. sure he had some knowledge about ghosts but knowledge alone couldnt help him with a ghost trying to kill him.

kwan got out from the back door. but he found something he didnt expect. he did find fenton like he expected. what he didnt expect was that fenton had glowing rings on his waist which then transformed him into phantom.

he quickly hid to a place so that phantom couldnt see him. phantom went inside without wasting a second presumably to fight the ghost. kwan sat on the floor trying to process what just happened.

fenton could turn into a ghost and not just any ghost. he could turn into PHANTOM. he WAS phantom. kwan didnt know how or why and he didnt even THINK about the possibility that fenton actually died or something similar. what he knew was that it was a secret to be kept.

kwan walked inside and went back to his friends. they all looked worried especially paulina and star.

"i couldnt find fenton, guess he ran somewhere safe." kwan lied. star and paulina gave each other a look and turned back to kwan.

"did you see something.. different?" paulina asked. it sounded like she was trying her best to choose the right words.

"like what? a racoon? nah i havent seen one but i heard there were racoon somewhere close." kwan said making himself sound clueless. paulina smiled and star sighed with relief. what was that about?

"if this weird questioning is done, can we go? you know before getting hit by a ghost ray or something." dash said annoyed. he was tried of holding the door for no one. they all agreed and left the place. they waited somewhere close but not enough to be dangerous. paulina still asked him some questions but kwan dodged them all by acting stupid.

kwan wasnt stupid but he knew it had its perks when people thought that way. so if its to protect the secret of their hero, then he will be stupid.

1 2 3 4 5 +1

[kenresearch1]

FlashParking & TIBA Solutions Dominates the $9 Billion US Parking Management Market.

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Story Outline

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[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Gatecrashers

Help. I bet you smart sleuthers have already covered this topic somewhere around our Tumblr neighborhood, but per usual I'm late to the party. Will someone please help me better understand Sparry's so-called "visit" with the King because the photographs and timing just don't add up. Connecting the dots seems to reveal 2 rebellious overseas unroyals who were determined to show up at Clarence House with or without permission.

On Tuesday, I felt annoyed to see the Royal Family YouTube channel (unaffiliated w/the BRF) patched into a live stream outside of Buckingham Palace. I thought it was a ridiculous invasion of privacy. Now I understand that the King was previously scheduled to arrive at BP (late morning) and the media was waiting to capture the first photo of king Charles post -treatment.

It seems Charles & Camilla were on a tight schedule which could explain the early morning (or overnight) visit with Beatrice & Edo.

The British media obviously knew that Charles was expected at BP and yet they disregarded this important bit of information to focus on Sparry's PR talking points---- all the while these manipulative talking heads knew the King had a prior engagement in his diary.

Pressure Pressure Pressure is what The Meghans wickedly tried to apply to Charles & William. There was even a mention of an EMPTY Frogmore Cottage. How low can these 2 go?🤬

Perhaps Mr and Mrs Sparry informed the men in grey of their plans to gatecrash the king & queen's departure. "Coming with or without permission." This would also explain why they flooded the media with Sparry's intention to see his father "within the next 2 days" followed by that crystal clear photograph at LAX. Someone around our Tumblr community or perhaps on reddit shared a catchy manifesting term...I'm sorry I didn't write it down bc it perfectly describes how The Meghans use her sharp elbows to bully their way through life.

All of this MANIFESTING crap to manipulate a face to face meeting with Charles: a man reeling from a life threatening diagnosis, recovering from an invasive procedure, and preparing for some sort of systemic poison.

Have I mentioned that The Meghans SUCK at compassion!!!

Beatrice & Edo

Doesn't it seem likely that family members have been welcomed to Clarence House (post-diagnosis) to wish Charles well before his Sandringham retreat-----perhaps the beginning of holistic treatments or simply to recover from the 1st of several adjuvant treatments.

The couple seems dressed for an early morning visit with a family member, NOT an audience with the King of England.

vs.

Sparry

Perhaps Sparry told the Palace "Me too! I'm coming to see my father too" and he was told "not this week," and MEgain responded "we'll see about that!"

I seem to remember Sparry had to be forced (by the Queen Elizabeth) to speak to his father and that meeting ended with shouting.

I also seem to remember Sparry had no time to give his family before or after His father's coronation.

As a courtesy, the men in grey delayed KC's departure & granted Sparry an audience with His Majesty the King, not a visit/block of time for a father-son brunch or lunch.

Sparry wearing all black upon his entrance to Clarence House but upon departure he's photographed wearing black and white, with a tie. Why didn't Sparry change clothes on the airplane?

This publicity stunt was meant to bury the African Parks story and the story about the (mon)ARCHewell revolving door. The Meghans have proven to the family (yet again) that there is no bottom to their depravity.

It was also a test for His Majesty's government as they push for IPP status, a campaign for royal housing, and of course information gathering for blackmail.

Let's do the math:

An audience with a sovereign (or even a President) is only about 5-10 minutes plus or minus time for photographs.

Sparry arrived at Clarence House by 2:45pm. Charles & Camilla were in a vehicle by 3:30pm. Sparry (if the photo is current) changed into business attire while at Clarence House. How long was Sparry in the same room as Charles?

Have I mentioned that MEgain and Sparry are SCUM and so are the British talking heads who served as their mouthpieces!?!?!

[hoeneymilktea]

deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 11 | my letters to you

Your cousin, Hajime Iwaizumi—whom you haven't seen in a long time, invited you to support him at the largest street racing event in Tokyo. He told you he was a part of the Seijoh Brawlers, one of the notorious top five gangs affiliated with the underground street racing scene. Once he introduced you to his leader, Tooru Oikawa, a.k.a. Cypher—your interest piqued, curiously wanting to understand the true meaning behind his alleged nickname.

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 12.4k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

author's note — This fanfic is inspired by the beautiful and amazing fanart of Street Racer AU Tooru Oikawa. Artist is @aikk00. disclaimer — I do not condone the romanticization of the yakuza or the reality of gang life as I intended not to portray that kind of interpretation, nor promote the activity of illegal street racing. Do not seek out these types of experiences as this work is just a piece of fiction. Please remember to read at your own risk.

daikokufuto race ⇠ my letters to you ⇢ finding the truth

✧ chapter specific content warnings: prison abuse, violence, drug use, angst, and pure philosophical existential dread. this particular chapter is not for immature readers as it requires a high level of comprehension to fully understand the psychological process of Oikawa’s mind.

“Stop crying. We’re almost there.”

Leia pressed down on the clutch, upshifting her car into fourth gear. She turned her head towards you—the edges of your sleeves drenched in tears as your knees trembled in the passenger seat. You buried your face into your hands, the surface of your palms sticky and wet from your sobs. Driving through Katsushika City, you and Leia were on the way to visit Kuroo and Oikawa for the first time in several months.

After their arrest, it was an almost immediate sentence. Japan’s carceral system was among the harshest in the world—making it impossible for Kuroo and Oikawa to prove their innocence. The conviction rate in Japan was well up to ninety-nine percent, none of which ever proved guilty for their crimes. It was a straight shot from their detainment to the cells within the Tokyo Detention House, leaving no room for a trial or set bail on their accused murder.

You remembered the shrill panic in Oikawa’s eyes when the law enforcement shoved him forcefully into the backseat, using up all the strength within his body trying to escape from their grip. Leia held you close, a single tear dripping out from her left eye as she watched Kuroo obediently step into a separate police vehicle, the expression on his face looking crushed and utterly defeated.

At the turn of the new day, you and Leia stayed crouched at the entrance of the hospital silently sobbing to each other, facing the reality of the situation. You dealt with the agonizing thought of Iwaizumi fighting for his life in a hospital bed, coupled with Oikawa facing a life sentence in prison. Your world shattered right there just within a few minutes, your whole existence seeming to feel like it was worth nothing anymore.

Leia had to drive Kuroo’s vehicle back home, parking it into the empty space of Kenma’s garage. She went to bed that night and crawled up into a ball, staring up into the ceiling of the run-down shitty apartment she shared with Kuroo. Placing a hand on her stomach, a heavy feeling weighed on her chest—she didn’t even get to tell him she was having his baby.

Kuroo and Oikawa were smart enough to drop their keys onto the pavement before the police detained them, insinuating that there was no worry for you and Leia to make it home. After spending time in the hospital waiting room anxiously, standing by for a doctor’s word on Iwaizumi’s condition—you clicked the button on Oikawa’s car keys, unlocking his RX-7. While wrapping your fingers around the door handle, you couldn’t help but think about him.

The swing of the car door felt heavy; the bitter smell of metal and hints of caramel vapor rushing through your face. It reeked of despair, forcing you to remember the thought of what happened a few hours ago; it shot a gruesome pain up your spine. Reliving those memories, even when it just happened the same day—it caused physical pain to your body, an underlying ache creeping underneath your skin. 

The minute you sat down in the driver’s seat, your body sank low, an uncomfortable feeling situated at the pit of your stomach. When you adjusted the seat to your height preference, you placed your left hand on the gearshift and stared out into the open night sky—closing your eyes before you dropped your forehead on the tip of the steering wheel, sobbing profusely.

As tears dripped down the soft leather, you reclined your head back into the seat and wiped your hands over both of your eyes. You inhaled a large breath of air, a soft hysterical laugh escaping your lips before slapping your tear-coated left hand onto your mouth—pinching your eyes shut as a muffled scream erupted from the top of your lungs.

The doctors had told you Iwaizumi was going to live. 

It was the one silver lining in the heap of all the chaos. The emergency surgery went well as expected, his body slowly but surely recovering physically from the trauma induced afflictions of the accident. Yet, he still remained in the intensive care unit. The loss of oxygen to his system severely damaged his brain, putting him into a coma-induced vegetative state. He remained that way for several months, not sure when he would wake up.

The doctors assured he was well, but it would take some time for him to regain consciousness again. In the meantime, you visited frequently—always making sure to be by his side just in case he did wake up. You sat quietly in the corner of his room, your fingers tightly gripped onto the armrest of the chair. A melancholic feeling washed over your head, staring straight at Iwaizumi’s body laid on the hospital bed. All you knew was that he was still alive—conscious or not.

You drove Oikawa’s Mazda RX-7 back to his place, your hands shaking profusely on the steering wheel as you maneuvered through the city of Shibuya. Going back to your apartment was not an option—you didn’t feel like sleeping in your bed that night. Oikawa’s condo was dark and desolate, the plate of milk bread and half eaten strawberries still sitting on the counter from earlier.

As you walked over to the large window wall situated on the other side of the living room, you stared up at the sky and noticed the waning crescent moon shining through. The light illuminated on the cold oak flooring, shimmers of the violet night peeking through the blinds. You continued to peer upon the Tokyo skyline, the sound of the traffic in the distance blended in with the white noise in your ears.

You stared at your own reflection in the window, your vision merging from the city horizon to your tear-stained face—the whites of your eyes stained red while your cheeks remained puffy. As tempting as it was, you wanted to drag your fingernails down your skin in order to feel something greater than the pain you were already feeling. It was such a cruel reality to face—Oikawa was going to prison and there was nothing you could do.

Walking over to the large television up on his wall, you stared into the blank reflection of yourself through the black and empty screen. You remembered how you two were supposed to watch a movie that night; an intimate at-home date Oikawa had planned all by himself. He had the record player all set up, the pink Sin Miedo album propped up against the wall ready to be played. 

He wanted to recreate the dance on the first night you two met.

You dragged the tips of your fingers on the edge of the record, carefully slipping it out of the cover sleeve. Lifting up the drop handle, you placed the record on the vinyl player and pressed the start button—immediately stepping back as the needle filtered through the grooves. The minute the woman on the song started speaking in Spanish as the background guitar played, every memory from that night came rushing in.

“♫ Vive la luna enamorada… ♫ ”

You sat on the white leather couch, looking up into the moon right outside the window wall. A tear ran down your face again as you felt it drip past your chin—stinging on your skin like acid, the blood rushing under the surface of your cheek.

The soft bolero beat, the smooth vocals of the woman, the touch of Oikawa’s hands on your waist as he dipped you back—every emotion that you felt that night came flooding in all at once coupled with the brooding realization that he was not with you anymore. A pressure formed in the front of your sinus as your vision blurred with more tears, knowing this was what could have been.

You looked up at the moon again, the lights from the Tokyo skyline seeping in as the time approached the dead of night. Placing your hands in your lap, you hung your head low and blinked while watching the tears from your eyes drip down into your palms. Nothing felt right in the world to you anymore; the motivation that kept you going slowly drained out of your body.

Closing your eyes, the thought of Oikawa whispering “you’re so beautiful” ruminated all throughout your mind. The sound of his voice, the touch of his hands on your body, the feeling of his lips on yours—what you would have done to go through all that again. Once more, nothing but pain could be felt all throughout your body as the woman said the last few words of the song, the sound of the guitar closing the ballad.

“♫ Que vive en ti… ♫”

That night, you laid on his bed with your face buried in the sheets—the smell of him still lingering on the pillow right beside you. His room was cold and empty, the same window wall on the right side of his bed facing you directly as the morning pink sun peeked in the horizon. You didn’t go to sleep that night; the foreboding thought of what was to come next forced you to stay awake.

You clutched the white sheets beneath you and placed it over your body, trying your best to close your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t stop shivering—your feet rubbed against each other as your hands twitched, every nerve underneath your skin signaling nothing but pain up your spine. Despite it being the beginning of Spring, all you could experience was the cold, empty, and lifeless feeling that Winter always brought.

Perhaps the universe wanted you to suffer; being without Oikawa felt like time passed slowly.

And so it did.

Months went by after their arrest. Kuroo and Oikawa remained rotting away in prison—no trials, no bonds, nothing. Kenma was even willing to sacrifice half of his life savings just to bail them both out—but to no avail, the Japanese judicial system wouldn’t consider any money for their release regardless of the amount. It was no use; there was no way you could have helped but to wait for their sentence to end.

But they both received life in prison.

The months went by slowly just as you expected. It was almost unbearable to get through your last semester of college; the thought of dropping out never left your mind. Every day became a chore and you missed Oikawa’s presence more and more. 

Even driving the MX-5 he gifted you—never once had you not cried while driving back to and from university. You sat in silence most of the way, alone in your thoughts as music became saddening to listen to.

Mr. Nekomata noticed the depressive state you were slipping into, always leaving a few groceries in front of your door just to make sure you were getting adequate nutrition. As the walls were so thin, he heard you sobbing every night for several weeks—your cries of despair ranging from the dead of night all the way until the early morning. It absolutely shattered his heart seeing you in so much pain.

Your final semester at university came and went as you finally graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry. Sitting in your black cap and gown with your diploma in your hand—you should have been proud of your achievements, yet only the despondent torment of emptiness in your heart shattered every fiber of your soul.

With tears in your eyes as you accepted your degree, you expected Iwaizumi, Oikawa, your family, and friends to be in the audience cheering you on—yet only Leia remained, excitedly clapping in the stands with a reassuring smile on her face. She was the only one who came to support you.

When Leia had dropped you back off to your apartment, you dreadfully walked up the stairs only to be greeted by Mr. Nekomata sitting peacefully in his little chair. He saw your face all puffed up, the tears on your cheeks all dried with your eye makeup stained. Frowning, he carefully got up from the white plastic seat and made his way over to give you a comforting hug. 

You cried on his shoulder, the droplets of your tears staining his red track jacket. Mr. Nekomata patted your back as you silently sobbed out an incoherent babble.

“There, there.” He cooed against your ear, a feeling of complete sorrow washing over his body. “When your grandparents used to live here, they helped and took care of me when I needed it the most. They were good people. In return for their kindness, I’ll make sure to take care of you too.”

You shut your eyes tightly, another tear falling out of your eye. “You’re too kind, Mr. Nekomata.”

“It’s the least I should do.” Just as you both dropped your hands away from the hug, Mr. Nekomata reached over to the little table next to his white plastic chair and grabbed a large stack of envelopes. “I got your mail for you because I noticed your mailbox was getting full. Remember to reach out to me when you need anything, okay sweetie?”

While wiping the back of your left hand on your cheek, you nodded your head and gave him a reassuring smile, trying your best to keep half of your mouth curled up. Your hands trembled as you accepted all of the letters, quickly wishing him a goodnight before you entered your dimly lit apartment.

That night, you sorted through the large stack of unopened mail that Mr. Nekomata had retrieved for you. Flipping through the small ads and unpaid bills, you noticed there were several letters from the Tokyo Detention House, dating back all the way back from April. There were five letters, each one corresponding for how many months Oikawa had been in prison.

The letter dating back the earliest trembled in your hands as a foreboding expression rested on your face. You were overjoyed yet apprehensive; not sure if you were prepared for what contained inside the small white envelopes.

Tearing open the side, you slipped out the white folded paper carefully in your left hand as your fingertips brushed against the edge. Flipping open the letter folded in thirds, you read the following:

April 25th Tokyo Detention House Inmate #1099 My dearest, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that I ever put you through this. I miss you more and more as the days go by. I can’t even imagine how much pain I know you’re in. I don’t know how I’m able to live with myself knowing I left you out there alone. I’m just grateful you have Leia by your side. Please stick together, as I’m sure she’s hurting just as much. I advised DK to also send a letter to her. My love, you do not know how much you mean to me. You are the only light in my life keeping me sane in the dark abyss of my mind. I love you so much, please remember to take care of yourself. Yours, Tooru

The guard shoved Oikawa down onto the barber seat, the bottom of his shoes slamming against the cold concrete floor. He kicked the man holding him down with his right leg, earning a firm slap to his face from another guard for his aggressive behavior. As Oikawa released a hesitated grunt, the same guard grabbed his cheeks and forcefully turned his head to face the mirror sitting in front of him.

The prison barber turned on the electric razor and started from the bottom of his neck, grazing up his head. Locks of his brown hair flew down his shoulders, his entire body restrained by several men in police uniforms. He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror—it pained him to watch himself become stripped of his dignity, his body defiled and humiliated by the prison guards holding him down.

When the razor grazed against the last spot on his head, Oikawa’s hair that he maintained to be pristine and kempt for all these years—now reduced to a dull and empty-feeling buzzcut. It made the dragon tattoo on his neck stand out more, the dark and intricate ink contrasting well with his fair skin.

Oikawa couldn’t recognize the person he saw in the mirror. With his left eye busted, a prominent bruise on the right side of his jaw, his hair shaved down to the centimeter—he looked exactly like his younger self several years ago back in Osaka. A shiver ran down his spine, one that dragged him down into the void that erupted from the bottom of his subconscious.

As a single tear formed in the corner of his eye, he looked to his left to see Kuroo in the same position. His spiked up black hair now shaved down to his scalp, the same exact buzzcut Oikawa also had on his head. Both of them sat in the barber chairs alone, blood scathed on their clothes as grime and soot smeared all over their skin.

This was the beginning of their life in prison.

Later that day, the guards handed them both grey jumpsuits to put on, ordering them to hurry up before the start of their daily march. The fabric was stiff yet neatly folded into a rectangle, accompanied with the small booklet of the rules and regulations prisoners were expected to follow in the detention house.

The warden shoved Oikawa into a small cell with a singular futon and blanket, accompanied by the one small window within the middle of the room peeking out into the open. Cherry blossoms bloomed in the distance over the barrier, the small flower petals drifting down onto the edge of the windowsill on the outside. He went up and placed the tips of his fingers on the cold surface, peering straight out as he lowered both of his eyebrows down.

Bulletproof glass. He knocked on the window, a dull sounding echo repeating twice. Oikawa rested his back against the wall, sliding himself down until he sat on the floor.

“I’m going to die in here.”

Every day was the same for him—waking up at the crack of dawn while security guards commanded all the prisoners to step out and line up in the hallway. Kuroo was to his left, his cell directly right next to his. He gave Oikawa a desolate stare, his face drained from any sort of humanity left in him. Down the corridor stood the main warden, walking up as each prisoner, one by one, greeted him with a salute.

He stopped at Oikawa and Kuroo, snapping at them both to look forward. “Prisoner 1098 and 1099—forward salute, now.”

Kuroo instantly obeyed, his right hand shooting up to his forehead while standing up straight. Oikawa lowered his head, refusing to be subservient to any position of power held above him. The warden repeated himself again, a repulsive scowl resting on his face as he peered down at him.

“Prisoner 1099. Forward salute, now.”

Oikawa looked up slightly before lowering his head again, tucking both of his hands behind his back. He growled slightly with an irritated tone in his voice, signifying he wouldn’t submit.

“No.”

The slap of the warden’s gloved hand felt cold against his skin as his head whipped to the side, losing his balance while his body knocked against the front of his cell. A small grunt escaped Oikawa’s lips as he looked up into the warden’s eyes, only the reflection of himself staring back at him.

“Don’t you ever disrespect me again, 1099.”

He continued down the hallway, every prisoner onwards frightenedly greeting him with a salute. Kuroo anxiously shifted his eyes towards Oikawa with his hands behind his back, an expressionless look on his face as he watched him struggle to get up. It had only been two weeks since their arrest, and this was already an occurrence that happened every single morning.

That was the first month.

You opened the second letter, dating back to May. Repeating the same process, you ripped open the side of the envelope and carefully removed the white folded paper. A couple of your tears dripped on his words, your eyes slowly scanning the top again. Oikawa’s second letter stated the following:

May 26th Tokyo Detention House Inmate #1099 My beloved, I’ve been counting my time in here. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about you. How am I supposed to fit all my love on one sheet of paper? DK got his letter back from Leia. Although we aren’t allowed to speak to one another frequently, he told me what he read from her letter. She said you were hurting. My love, everyday it hurts me to know you’re hurting. I don’t know how much I can handle being in here anymore. I miss you so much, it physically pains me. I don’t expect you to respond. I will still continue to send you letters, even if I know you’ll never read them. I love you with all my heart. You are still my only light shining in this darkness I’m in. I still hope you can visit sometime. We will be together soon. I love you so much, forever and always, Tooru

“One, two! One, two!” One of the guards commanded through a megaphone, leading the march through the courtyard. All of the prisoners in grey jumpsuits followed, lifting up one knee at a time in the air while swinging their arms back and forth.

The courtyard was closed off to the rest of the prison, beige concrete beneath the inmates’ feet as the sun blasted down on the warm spring day. The weather was hot, calling for almost around twenty degrees Celsius. Most of the prisoners kept their jumpsuits on, sweating in the heat as they marched across the buildings.

All of the prisoners repeated after the main guard, screaming at the top of their lungs. One, two. One two. Oikawa winced up at the sun, lazily dragging his feet along to the march. His hair started to grow back fast around the top of his head, almost due for his monthly buzzcut.

A skintight white tank top hugged his torso, sweat dripping off the small lockets of his hair and down his back. He wrapped the front part of his grey jumpsuit around his waist, both the tattoos on his left and right arms exposed to the sun. While looking down at his left hand, he clenched his fist in a tight grip until his knuckles turned white—the tattooed words “with God” written in kanji symbols above his knuckles trembling against his rage.

Oikawa stood behind Kuroo in line and the order of the prisoners followed their corresponding numbers. He looked forward and marched with a tired expression on his face, the life almost drained out of him. While the line marched in synchronization like a military brigade, Oikawa didn’t move his arms, nor lift his knees up high enough.

Another guard with a megaphone went up to him, screaming in his ear to keep up with the line. While walking backwards, the man stared at him with an expressionless look on his face—Oikawa could see his reflection in the man’s glasses. While staring at him gloomfully, the ends of his mouth curled into a scowl.

“Knees up, 1099! One, two! One two!” He pointed the megaphone in his face, the wail of the high pitched noise ringing against his eardrums.

Oikawa’s eyes widened, his eyebrows pinched close together. Staring straight into his reflection into the man’s glasses, he saw a sharp light reflect from the sun. In an instant, Oikawa punched the guard in the face, smashing his glasses in half. As the megaphone dropped out of his hands and the guard fell down to the floor, Oikawa straddled on top of him and continued to slam his fists into the side of his jaw.

The prisoner line up stopped in place, the rest of the guards in the courtyard stopping the march in order to pull him off of the man. As Kuroo turned around, a flashback of Oikawa beating up Kita outside of the hospital triggered his mind—yet, this time he didn’t have the heart to pull him off the guard. With his hands dangling at his side, he stood there motionless as five officers restrained Oikawa to the ground just like when they detained him over two month ago.

As the guards dragged Oikawa away, he thrashed against their grip on his body, all of his strength pulled back by five men holding him down. He screamed in frustration as one of the guards wrapped his right arm around his neck, almost closing off Oikawa’s airway. The last thing he could remember was passing out on the floor as he struggled to breathe, his vision slowly becoming dark.

Oikawa woke up in his cell, his head face down on the futon below him with the thin blanket sheets covering over the bottom half of his torso. He was drenched in sweat—his entire body feeling uncomfortably humid and sweltered. The moon shined through the small bulletproof window in his room; luminance from the night sky hitting down on Oikawa’s face forced him to wince.

He couldn’t even tell what time it was. While lifting up his upper body from the futon, Oikawa blinked slowly as he adjusted his vision and peered out into the hallway. It was quiet, as expected—he could see most of the night guards walking back and forth. In the far corner of his room, a dim light down the corridor caught his attention.

Oikawa lifted his whole body up, crawling his way over to the front of his cell. Once he stabilized himself on his knees and up on his feet, he peeked out the small bars on his cell door and looked to the right. Next to him, he heard Kuroo’s murmurs softly echo out into the hallway.

“DK,” Oikawa loudly whispered. He heard the mumbling stop before two fingers peeked out in the cell right next to him.

“DK,” he repeated himself, clutching the small bars on his cell door.  

“Shut up, Cypher. You’re going to get us in trouble again.” Kuroo snapped with an exasperated tone. The light shining from his cell turned off, the sound of a rough shuffle followed after.

Oikawa sighed to himself, hanging his head down while the tips of his fingers dangled on the edge of the bars. The booklet he was handed when he first entered his cell stated that prisoners were not allowed to speak to one another during recreational time, nor while eating, or alone in the cells. If any rules were to be broken or disobeyed, severe forms of punishment were to be expected.

It had surprised Oikawa on how much leniency they had been granting him due to his aggressively defiant behavior on the authoritative figures in the Tokyo Detention House. He wondered if the guards were afraid, as most of the prisoners were already terrified of being anywhere near Oikawa in any sort of manner.

He turned around and walked back over to the far end of his cell, peering down his window. While placing his left hand on the bulletproof glass, the condensation formed around his hand and created a white silhouette. Oikawa pressed his palm closer to the cold window, silently aching in pain.

That was the second month.

With a tear dripping from your left eye, you wiped it away with your opposite hand. A whimper escaped from your lips as you hesitantly reached for the third letter, delicately grasping onto the envelope dated from June. It looked exactly like the others, with the return address stamped from the Tokyo Detention House, with your name and address displayed on the front in Oikawa’s handwriting.

You grazed your fingers over the ink, his tight knit words written in all capital letters. Doing the same as before, you ripped open the side and took the letter out in between two fingers. This time, the paper was folded in half instead of thirds. In the following, it read:

June 19th Tokyo Detention House Inmate #1099 My beautiful baby, Every time I clutch my necklace and stare into my reflection, all I see is you. I’m starting to believe God has put me in here as punishment for my sins, but I will betroth myself through any punishment if it means I will be with you again.  Your absence has made me realize that I have never loved anyone in my life as much as I’ve loved you. I miss you so much that my heart aches every time your name escapes my lips. I love you so much that I say your name while I’m praying. The moon lives in love, my dear. She protects me throughout the night, with her essence running through my veins—she is my only source of guidance in this isolation from my world. And you, my sweet love, forever, will always be the moon to me. Please come back to me, my love. Tooru

Oikawa wiped away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he stood in line to drop off the letter he just wrote. Two men in front of him just had their letter rejected for not following the requirements. He looked down at the white piece of paper in his hands, scanning over the handwritten letter again and again.

“Next,” the guard called as Oikawa stepped up to the glass protected podium. The man stared at him with the same tiresome and mundane expression, pushing his hand forward while curling all of his fingers up to review the letter.

With his eyebrows cinched in, Oikawa placed the sheet delicately on the counter. The guard was an older man, adjusting his reading glasses to view the paper in his hands. While leaning his head forward to skim through the letter, tears began to form while the wrinkled crow’s feet on the outer corners of his eyes began to droop.

Oikawa stared at him with his eyes wide open while his lips slightly parted. He stood there in place as he rolled his thumbs against one another, his fingers linked at the tip of his digits. His eyes shifted to the officer’s name tag atop the left side of his uniform. He couldn’t make out his name before the man lifted up his eyeglasses, his right hand wiping away the tears dripping down his cheek.

“Pardon my emotions, Tooru.” The man lowered the letter and handed him an envelope. Oikawa had never heard this man call him anything other than Inmate 1099. “In all my forty years working here, I have never read a letter that had made me cry.”

He gave Oikawa a soft and genuine smile, slipping him a white envelope through the slit for him to write on. As he scribbled your full name and the address to your apartment in Shinjuku, Oikawa couldn’t stop thinking about if you had received any of the letters he sent you. He was afraid you were purposefully ignoring him, but Kuroo mentioned that the letters from Leia said you were having a hard time.

The mailroom staff was required to skim through all the contents of outgoing mail with strict regulations on what could be sent into the outside world. The Japanese penal system was notorious for having violated several human rights conducts, as many complaints were filed on the invasion of privacy. The obstruction of confidential mail sent from prisoners, forcibly to be mandated and reviewed by prison guards, was just one of those reasons.

The man who viewed all of Oikawa’s letters never fully read any others besides his. He felt like he was intruding on such an intimate and personal connection between the both of you, despite the letters being only one-sided. Never once had he been so moved and touched by another’s heartfelt words; with every sentence written, he could tell Oikawa had so much love and passion for you, the commitment for him to keep sending letters every month brought tears to his eyes.

That evening, Oikawa laid in silence on his futon. The summer heat blasted through the prison; air conditioning unable to be turned on, nor any windows able to be opened in order to cool oneself down. His prison cell was dark; light chatter amongst the other inmates could be heard in the immediate hallway outside.

With his left hand placed behind his head, he clutched his gold necklace in between his right index and middle finger—pressing the chain with the pads of his digits. He rubbed it back and forth as sweat dripped down his naked torso, all of his tattoos exposed out in the hot and humid air. Oikawa closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath, the thought of you running through his mind again.

A pressure formed in the front of his sinus before a tear streamed down the side of his face and onto his pillow. His vision became blurry as he pressed the gold chain up to his lips, quickly kissing the warmed up metal before softly humming a tune.

“Summer's gone... I lost it all... twilight comes... and I recall,” his voice echoed throughout his cell, singing the chorus lyrics to a sorrowful Japanese ballad. The words reminded Oikawa of his own agony, the song primarily telling the story of a man suffering in life because he was without his lover by his side.

"September rain comes to me again, just like sudden sadness comes hanging on a breeze,” he continued singing the lyrics to the song, his voice getting louder and louder as the words became more relatable. Oikawa was in pain, and one of the only ways to cope with it was to sing a song that reminded him of you.

“Shut the fuck up!” One man shouted from the crowd of prisoners conversing with each other in the hallway. Oikawa ignored the man’s comments and continued to sing, both of his eyes now watering up.

“Ay, fuck off! I like his singing.” Another piped in, defending Oikawa. 

A smile formed on his lips as he chuckled a bit, closing his eyes all the way while tightening his grip around the gold necklace laced in between his fingers.

“Silence, prisoners!” One guard screamed from down the hallway. Just as the command echoed through the air, all of the chatter stopped while the lights turned off. Oikawa could hear a shuffle of feet retreat back into the cells, nothing but white noise could be heard after.

He continued to sing the remaining lyrics of the song, his mind ruminating on the thought of your fingers tracing over his body. Nothing could help him sleep anymore besides the memory of you both slow dancing in his living room underneath the moonlight’s shimmer. Just the thought of it kept him hopeful—hopeful for you to be back in the comfort of his arms again.

That was the third month.

At that point, you couldn’t force yourself to read any more of his letters without crying profusely. After folding the paper back along the crease, you carefully placed it back into its designated envelope and sat in your dining room chair, silence filling the atmosphere. You hung your head low, your hands gripping onto your knees as another tear fell from the corner of your eyes.

You questioned to yourself why it was your body’s natural reaction to cry so much. In reality, you didn’t feel any more sorrow in your heart. Your mind was clouded with numbness, completely desensitized to any form of emotion. It felt like crying was the only way you could feel normal again, as you lost your sense of reality a long time ago the moment Oikawa was removed from your life.

Wiping away the last remaining tears on the corner of your sleeve, you got up from your chair and made your way to the kitchen, fixing yourself a glass of water. Just as you placed your lips on the edge of the cup, you forced yourself to swallow, feeling the lukewarm liquid rush down your throat.

Processing Oikawa’s letters, much less three of them, took a toll on your mind and soul. The fact there were two more unopened sitting upon your dining room table was a lot to handle for you. Walking back, you sat on the chair again and took in a deep breath before reaching for the fourth letter. Unbeknownst, the last two were nothing like the first three.

July 20th Tokyo Detention House Inmate #1099 My love, Today is exactly 273 days since we first met, yet it marks exactly one year since I’ve known about you. I am forever truly grateful God has brought you into my life. Yet, I question to myself why would he, especially when he would rip me away from you. Is this to make me suffer? Am I supposed to repent for my sins? Do you still love me? When I pray, I can hear the Devil whisper into my ear, telling me you don’t love me anymore because you haven’t visited nor responded to any of my letters. I would rather die and ignorantly imagine you still love me than to continue living knowing you don’t. Today is also my birthday. Though it doesn’t matter, because my existence means nothing without you by my side, for you are the reason I continue to live. How can I celebrate when I am alone, without the one I love? I still love and miss you, even if you don’t. Happy anniversary. Tooru

“No talking, whatsoever!” The main guard’s voice boomed over the cafeteria through a megaphone as clinks of trays and dishes filled up the remaining white noise. Oikawa always sat next to Kuroo in the far back left corner of the room, away from the guards in the front. They quickly glanced at each other with a daunting expression before picking up their chopsticks and spoons.

Based on their knowledge with car logistics, it was a clear decision to assign car mechanic work to both Oikawa and Kuroo. During the work day, they were sent over to the labor factory that was used to make and assemble parts for furniture, clothes and vehicle parts. Though, it wasn’t the kind of work they were used to.

It was intense, hard manual labor—they made tires, license plates, pedals—anything you can make from scratch. While most prisoners incarcerated for petty misdemeanors fulfilled simple duties inside their cells like folding paper grocery bags or making chopsticks for restaurants—criminals that had kidnapped, raped or murdered other human beings received harsher labor punishments. Oikawa and Kuroo were no exception.

Food in the cafeteria was assigned to prisoners based on how physically active they were during work hours. Those who received meal plan A were unsentenced prisoners or those who did not partake in physical labor, while meal plan B was reserved for those who worked in their cells. The ones who were sent to the factory like Oikawa and Kuroo received meal plan C, a tray filled with calorically dense foods.

Although the food was sometimes bland, Oikawa always finished his plate with nothing left to spare. In silence, he ate the meal in front of him, saying a quick prayer before digging in. For lunch that particular day, they had served him beef curry with rice, glass noodle salad and pickled daikon radish with coarse black tea.

They were only given twenty minutes total to eat their food. Placing the bowl up to his lips, Oikawa shoveled the remaining grains of rice and bits of beef curry into his mouth, chowing down the sustenance before swallowing it down his esophagus. He released a quick exhale with a grunt, indirectly signaling to the others around him that he was finished.

Barely any natural light reached the inside of the cafeteria—only the harsh white luminance of the ceiling bulbs brightened the room. No one talked while they ate, only the quiet sound of chewing and utensils hitting the plates echoed throughout the air. The intense glares of the guards watched over every corner, not a single one leaving their eyes off of Oikawa.

There was no doubt everyone was scared of him. Even the guards themselves admitted he couldn’t be tamed, only restrained temporarily with the help of many officers holding him down. Oikawa was by far the most stubborn and disobedient inmate they’d ever received—playing by his own rules while resisting every authoritative figure out of resentment.

Little did they know, he was defying himself as well.

Going back to work, Oikawa dressed in his labor uniform, defiled with soot and grime from earlier. He formed the black rubber in the mold, marking the grooves of the generic tire treads. It was repetitive and tiresome, the joints in his hands cracking when he moved, unable to feel the nerves in his wrists. Swiping a sweat drop from the edge of his brow, Oikawa let out an exasperated exhale and gripped the edge of the machine with his gloved hands.

Just as he dropped his head down and rested his eyelids, he took in a deep inhale—only to be shocked back awake by the sound of the alarm on the megaphone piercing through his eardrums.

“Back to work, 1099! No slacking!” The boom of his voice from the megaphone sliced through the air, most of the prisoners, including Kuroo turning their heads to look. The guard kicked the back of Oikawa’s work boots, knocking him off his feet for a second. He gritted his teeth, a quiet guttural sound forming in the back of his throat as he watched the guard walk away.

In an instant, a large chunk of metal flew across the air, knocking off the dark blue officer cap on the guard as his body hit the floor—a cry for help escaping his lips when his cheek collided with the factory concrete. The feedback of the megaphone staggered as it rolled across the ground, the prisoners that witnessed everything staring in dismay.

Blood scathed the floor of the factory building underneath the wounded officer. The room went silent as eyes panned over to Oikawa pinned to the ground by the other guards, the safety goggles slipping off of his ears while his forehead smashed onto the edge of the work table. Two hands grasped the back of his throat, choking him down into unconsciousness. 

The last thing he remembered seeing was Kuroo staring down at him again, an unsurprised and disappointed look on his face as he peered back at the bloodied officer. After that, everything went black. 

That was the fourth month.

You squinted your eyes, the tears on your cheeks now dried up entirely on your skin. While lifting up your left eyebrow, you scanned the words again on the paper. The tone of Oikawa’s second letter dramatically shifted as an eerie mood lied underneath. A concerned expression plastered your face, questioning to yourself why he used deceptive language.

You weren’t sure whether to open the next letter or not. It weighed heavier than the last four as you picked it up from the mail stack, ripping open the top to expose three papers with Oikawa’s handwriting, all of his words written in capital letters. Glancing to the mandatory stamp at the top, you read the following:

August 15th Tokyo Detention House Inmate #1099 My blessed angel, Leia’s letter she sent to DK said your graduation was coming up soon. I feel absolutely heartbroken that I cannot attend and see you walk across that stage. You’re so smart, I praise and worship the ground you walk on. How does time differ for you? Each day for me is coming to feel like an eternity, not one day more real than the next. Each night speaks to me, your voice singing from the cracks in the walls. Did you visit? I thought you did. I saw your face outside my cell. I don’t hear the harmonies of God within these walls anymore. The sounds are harsh and I hear cold whispers between the shrieks. It speaks to what I was so foolish on before; how could the almighty test me when he would already know the results? Surely, God was a sadist in disguise. Now, I am in his bondage—beaten and defiled. I won’t be broken by his spies who survey this prison. I won’t take their lies about discipline. The flies have spoken to me, and they told me this: better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven. I don’t know who I am anymore. I am losing my mind, I am suffering without you. My love, please come back to me. Please rescue me, I am begging. Rescue me from myself.   You are my angel and saint, Tooru

Another incident occurred within the Tokyo Detention House, Oikawa being the root of the problem again.

It was the morning inspections per usual, all the inmates lined up outside of their cells as guards entered their spaces, checking the walls and windows and every corner to maintain order and obedience. The main warden walked down the corridor, expecting salutes of respect from each prisoner, two at a time with each on either side.

By the time it reached Oikawa, as expected, he did not salute. Kuroo on the other hand, trying his best to not cause any incidents in hopes to get released early due to good behavior, saluted firmly, his right hand placed just at the nick of his forehead. Kuroo didn’t make eye contact with the warden as he peered down at his shoes right before whipping his head up straight to his friend.

Oikawa placed both of his hands in the pockets of his grey jumpsuit, leaning back on the front of his cell door with his sleeves rolled up. He closed his eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows, waiting for the warden to pass by. For a particular reason that day, he decided to not salute—instead, he completely ignored and resented every expected rule of him for the rest of his sentence.

The warden placed a firm and hard slap across his face, Oikawa’s body ricocheting off his cell door. The impact was sudden as he gripped his cheek, crouching down onto his knees as he held his jaw with both of his hands. The warden looked down at him, a similar distasteful expression—like the lead detective that arrested him—plastered across his face.

“Get up and redo that salute, 1099.”

Kuroo watched it all unfold. His eyes traced over Oikawa’s right leg shooting up into the sky, instantly kicking the warden in the face. Just as he knocked to the ground, his officer cap flew off and rolled next to his feet, the brim oscillating in a circle before completely stopping in motion. Kuroo looked up to see Oikawa straddling the warden’s waist, his fists flying down repeatedly.

A few guards from down the corridor rushed in to help the warden, pulling Oikawa off his body. Kuroo’s eyes trailed to the three guards pinning him down onto the ground again, shoving his face on the dusty tiled floor. Once his cheek hit the ground, one of the men restrained both of his hands behind his back while the other placed his rough hands around Oikawa’s neck.

When the warden regained consciousness, he hoisted himself by his hands as another guard aided him. He released a cough as he looked over at Oikawa, his body still pinned down by the three guards. With one eye swollen and a tooth knocked out, he muttered a menacing command under his breath. 

“Take him into the isolation chamber. 1099 will reside there from now on.”

Without hesitation, all of the guards in the corridor lifted Oikawa up onto his feet, restraining him back as he thrashed around in their grip. As they dragged him out of the dormitories, Kuroo didn’t once look at Oikawa—his eyes were glued on the floor. He pursed his lips, both of his hands shaking behind his body.

He warned him repeatedly to not get in trouble and to obey their commands. He warned him to not lose control of his anger, for it will only backfire on him. He warned him that it wasn’t worth it to defy the system, it’ll only get worse from there.

In the end, Oikawa was the one who was actually warning him. 

The isolation chamber was tucked far down into the basement of the Tokyo Detention House. It harbored the prisoners deemed the most demented, the most irrational, and the most wicked. Oikawa, to the guards of the prison, had met all three requirements.

The chamber was small; almost smaller than his private cell back up in the dormitories. The floors were not lined with tatami mats, instead, cold and wet concrete that seeped underneath his bare feet. Instead of a futon, there was a large flat titanium bar protruding out from the wall, meant to be his bed. There was a metal toilet in the corner, not even a place for him to wash his hands.

The ceiling had no overhead light, only the brightness from the hallway outside of the isolation chamber seeped through the small window of the heavy door. It resembled the draconian solitary confinements in the United States, meant for the purpose of self-reflection as a form of both healing and punishment.

It was truly a grotesque place to be in, physically and mentally.

He was denied all the privileges he was allowed back up in his private cell. Oikawa could no longer work in the labor factory, eat in the cafeteria, nor send any more letters while residing in the isolation chamber. He was deprived of natural light, human contact except for the guards, and most importantly, his own humanity. 

For the next month or two, Oikawa had been brooding in his own thoughts, alone with only himself and the voices that he thought had spoken to him. Every night, or what he thought was the evening based around the time the guards had served him the food he always refused to eat—Oikawa sat in the corner by the door, cradling his knees up to his chest.

Before he was sent into the chamber, he didn’t receive his monthly haircut from the barber. While isolated inside the cell, his hair length grew back, his brown locks now at a length past his ears. He was only granted showers every few days, every aspect of his life watched and monitored by several guards. There was not one moment where he was given any sort of privacy.

At night, he couldn’t sleep, for he was afraid to think. Intrusive thoughts clouded his mind, every aspect of his subconscious resurfacing to the forefront of his consciousness. The voices spoke to him, whispering delinquent and degenerative ideas into his mind. He was slowly but surely going mad in his own body.

Every day was the same for him. It felt like time passed so slowly as Oikawa constantly thought about how the hour would take forever to progress. He cradled his head in his hands, slowly rocking back and forth in his naked form. Looking down at his trembling fingers, he saw the tattoos he got a while ago—the dagger on his index, a cross on his middle. The words “with God” were written in kanji symbols above his knuckles.

All symbols of his contrasting life dealt in faith.

People often say that prison makes a man become more faithful to his religion, yet Oikawa felt nothing but the opposite. As he sat contemplating his existence in the depths of the isolation chamber, he felt like he was straying further away from God by the second. Hisses from what he believed to be the Devil infiltrated his mind, conjuring up a devious belief for Oikawa to succumb to.

What physically pained Oikawa to think about, was you. He never believed he was good enough for your love. In all actuality, he was hiding something deep within him that he coated with his lies, all to mask the truth that he didn’t want to expose. Oikawa, in and of himself, was lying to you about who he truly was the whole time.

Oikawa was afraid; he was absolutely frightened of who he was in his past. The real Oikawa was a version of himself he hadn’t seen in a long time—a version that he was scared to reveal even to himself. He didn’t know how to cope with the fact that this false version of himself he showed you, the version he created himself to be, was not real.

He wanted to believe deep down that the façade he showed you and every other person in his life was the real him, yet he knew deep down in his subconscious, that version will never be him.

Oikawa, just like any other person, was made of skin, muscle, and bones—needs, desires, and fears. It was the very essence of what made him human, what constitutively created the distinction of life in a concrete and abstract way. He never doubted who he truly was, up until he was thrown into the abyss of his mind.

He could never truly put what he was feeling into words—in fact, what he was feeling, was outside the scope of human language; outside the realm of human comprehension. It could not simply be described by pointing or uttering a name, for the place he was brooding in was much more complex than anything words could denote.

There seemed to be no way of pinning it down—each moment vanishing followed by the certainty he had. To Oikawa, it was just a glimpse of what he submerged himself in. Just like a gunshot up to an ear, while temporally just a moment, would make anyone tremble at the impact.

The closer he got to describing the experience he was going through, the more he strayed from reality. The very act of trying to put said experience into words only further broke down his sense of language. Within his own mind, the glimpse of what he saw reflected as an image of himself—as Oikawa stared long into the abyss, the abyss stared right back at him.

The place he was in, if he could represent it as a place, made him convulse in fear. Being isolated with his own mind, with his own thoughts, and with his own trauma—led him straight down into the very negation of those very thoughts. Oikawa conjectured that perhaps words could not prove effective; his issues might have lied corporally.

Just like the body, the subconscious never forgets.

Oikawa’s trauma was an accumulation of traces that always impacted him, a part of himself that never went away. His trauma was reoriented and altered into something he buried deep down, an intent for it to never be touched again. Just like a chipped vase, Oikawa had his own cracks within his body.

When you try to fix a vase, there is no way to remove the traces of the cracks even if you filled in the spaces with gold or other materials. In a sense, there will always be an element that is inherently cracked—the fact that it had been, that it was cracked. The trauma, in and of itself, was fundamentally not a part of Oikawa.

Yet, these said “cracks” within his body, while they did not make up the very essence of his being—he believed they still existed, outside of his own. Oikawa’s trauma was an essential part of his world—although it was essentially not a part of his world.

One of the things Oikawa had struggled to live with, a trauma his body forced to cover up and repress down in the abyss of his subconscious—he had difficulty coming to terms with the absolute truth of a certain woman’s death. Oikawa had to live with the fact he killed his ex-girlfriend—the main reason why he had fled the city of Osaka in the first place. 

What he tried so hard to tell himself was that it was an accident—or so he persuaded himself for it to be. Was he so scared to admit that it was his bullet that killed her that day? When Oikawa explained to you about how his ex-girlfriend died, he told a version of that story that strayed from the truth. He had lied so much to himself about that particular incident that he believed it was the truth.

Oikawa wanted something he so desperately craved from others—sympathy. He wanted someone to reassure him that he didn’t kill his ex-girlfriend, that it wasn’t entirely his fault. He had lied to himself so much he truly believed he didn’t kill her, making up a version of the story to manipulate your perception of him. He imagined himself out to be the victim in the story where he was, in fact, the murderer.

‘Never rely on peoples’ perception of me. Only you can determine that for yourself.’

At the pinnacle of his madness, Oikawa deep down was scared to relive the memory. He cradled his weak and sickly naked body back and forth on the damp concrete floor, only the underwear around his hips and the tattoos imprinted on his arms covered his skin. Burying his head deep into his knees, he heard the door to the room outside the isolation chamber open.

“Inmate 1099,” the same guard from yesterday and the day before called his name, bringing down his food. “You have to eat, please. It’s been almost three weeks.”

Oikawa didn’t respond, only the eerie creaks of the pipes inside the walls could be heard. The guard opened his cell door, stepping inside to place the tray of food on the protruding metal bar. He noticed Oikawa’s grey jumpsuit folded neatly on the opposite side, grabbing the tray containing the stale food from yesterday. Only the two large glasses of water were empty, none of the food touched.

The correctional officer sighed to himself before turning around and exiting the isolation chamber, locking the heavy door behind him. The clicks echoed throughout the room, ringing contiguously in Oikawa’s ears as he heard the guard walk away. Lifting his head up, his blurred vision shifted to focus on the tray.

His frail arm reached for one of the large glasses of water, his fingers slightly trembling from the lack of energy in his body. The second the tips of his fingers touched the condensed water droplets, he looked at the tattoo resting above his knuckles, reading the words “with God”.

Somehow the words triggered the memory of him back in Osaka, receiving the tattoo from a famous artist that inked many men in the yakuza. It was only a few days before he was set out on a mission to run a drive-by on the Café a local police informant often visited.

He received an insight from his boss of the Kitagawa, sending him out to eliminate the informant passing on valuable evidence to the police. It was the right of passage to finally prove to his boss that he was worthy enough to marry his only daughter and take over the clan. Although he did not love his boss’s daughter, Oikawa saw marriage as a compromise to finally claim the title, “Head of the Kitagawa”.

His current oyabun leader and those surrounding him were growing old, and thought it was time for a new generation to lead the clan, or so he thought. He implied for Oikawa to marry his only child, and his only daughter, before he stepped down from his duties. There was only one problem—he was in love with another woman, and he would have to go on an assassination mission.

The job was the easy part, forcing himself to love another woman was the hard one. Though, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity to increase in ranks go. He devised the perfect plan; accept the mission, marry his clansman leader’s daughter, and become the new head of the Kitagawa—all while staying with his current girlfriend. 

He remembered riding on a motorcycle while following behind one of the other kyodai from the Kitagawa. Through the instructions of their boss, this undercover informant was feeding classified information about their clan to the police. Their mission was to eliminate the informant, even if it meant killing innocent people along the way.

At the time, Oikawa didn’t know the informant was none other than his girlfriend.

The only feeling he remembered was the rush of rage and his strong intent to kill civilians that day, no empathy for the innocent lives that were lost. All that he knew was that the informant frequented the local Café every Saturday morning around 10AM, right before heading to the police station. That was their chance to take, as the threat of being arrested loomed over his mind. Prison was a place he did not want to be in.

He remembered pulling up in the corner with an illegal rapid fire gun in his hand and a motorcycle helmet covering the entirety of his face. Everything was quick—his partner rolled in first, shooting almost everyone in sight as the glass windows shattered, the piercing screams of innocent people lost within the chaos.

It was a victory for him and the Kitagawa clan, one less nuisance to deal with while hoping to finally gain the trust of his boss. He was excited to go back home to tell his girlfriend all about it, the once persistent fear of being thrown in prison now disappearing from his mind as he revved the handles of his motorcycle.

That night, he came home to no one. The Café drive-by was all over the news, clueless detectives and police officers frantically stating they would soon find the ones responsible. Oikawa maniacally laughed at the television, throwing his hands behind his neck as he leaned back on the couch.

Though, the minute the news went over the deceased, a familiar face flashed on the screen—his one and only girlfriend, pictured under a different name. Officer Rina Fujiwara, the undercover informant targeted by the Kitagawa Daiichi. She was going to turn him into the police that day.

Oikawa’s heart dropped down to his stomach the moment the pieces had fit together in his mind. He remembered numbing any sort of emotion after that, drinking and smoking the growing pain away in his body. For the rest of the time being, Oikawa struggled for months with the fact that it could have been a bullet from his gun that ended her life.

Unfortunately, it was all a plot planned by his own clan to punish Oikawa. In reality, his clansmen leader knew he was secretly dating another woman besides his daughter, and the fact she was an officer working for the Osaka Police Department was an offense breaking tenfold. He thought Oikawa was the traitor giving her valuable information about the clan, so he devised a plan for him to kill his own problem.

Once the mission was over, he was planning on seizing all rights from Oikawa’s title, luring him in by the promise of a promotion to clansman leader. Repayment to the clan for breaking trust and loyalty was yubitsume, the act of cutting off one’s fingers, or even worse—seppuku, suicide by disembowelment.

He had to cope with her death in silence in order to maintain innocence, not telling a soul about what happened even after he left Osaka. He flew out to Metropolitan Manila on a false mission, faked his death, and escaped to Tokyo to avoid the consequences that awaited him back at the Kitagawa. Oikawa kept it all a secret, vowing to himself to repress that memory deep within himself never to be uncovered ever again.

Oikawa thought he should have felt guilty and responsible for murdering the woman he loved, yet deep within, he struggled immensely with feeling any sort of remorse. His inability to feel anything for her death, it was all due to the fact she betrayed him, that his clan betrayed him. In an eternal battle between apathy and guilt, Oikawa couldn’t tell if he was truly remorseful for killing her, or if he felt ashamed because he killed her without intent.

He questioned to himself if he wanted to be the kind of person who would kill someone he loved just for his own benefit to remain free—if she didn’t die that day, what would have happened then? Oikawa wondered if he still would have done the job if he knew she was the informant; if he had known of her betrayal that day. Would he have done the mission if he also knew his own clan was plotting against him as well? Would knowing that have changed his love for her?

Though what really broke him down to the core of his subconscious was realizing that losing his ex-girlfriend also meant losing the part of him that felt normal—having to essentially kill her meant he had killed a part of himself as well.

A part of the reason he had fallen in love with her in the first place was how normal she made him feel. At the time to his best knowledge, she was just an ordinary girl attending school studying psychology to one day become a therapist, or that’s what she had told him. Thinking back, Oikawa never knew if anything she had told him was true—he questioned if any of her declarations of love were truly genuine. 

It was part of the reason why he hated dishonest people, yet he himself became the type of person he despised the most—a liar, a manipulator, and a traitor.

“I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her,” Oikawa aimlessly muttered to himself, holding his head in between both of his hands. He wanted to desperately believe her death was not his fault, yet, in actuality, it was. “I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her…”

Oikawa derailed off neurosis, spiraling down into the depths of insanity. He tried so hard to protect himself from his true form, the one he had hid deep away in the back of his mind. Specifically, the version of himself he deemed unworthy of your love—the version he believed what made the very essence of Oikawa himself. 

Ruminating on the fear of this version resurfacing—his old self back in Osaka, the man that showed no empathy for people, the man that didn’t refuse to kill when asked, the man that was blinded by his own reflection—the man willing to do anything profane to get what he pleases. This, to Oikawa, was the real version of himself he did not want and will never plan to show to you. 

Oikawa had regretted telling you every little lie about him and what he had forced himself to believe was true. The kind of man you saw in him; the way he perceived himself out to be—that was the version of himself he wanted to be, yet he knew he never could be.

Every morning, the Summer sky peeked through the isolation chamber. Although just for a brief moment, the beams of the sun shined bright over into the tiny window on the door, the warmth of the rays hitting the skin on Oikawa’s arms and shoulders. Birds chirped loudly upon the outside barrier as the only source of light entered the darkened room.

Suddenly, he thought of you and what your existence represented for him. The smile upon your lips, your unconditional kindness. The sun—your essence, and the moon—your love, both cohesively reminding him of you.

In that very moment, an intense realization had struck his mind. The true version of Oikawa, the one he had desperately kept hidden away from anyone else to see, did not exist. In fact, there was no real version of himself that existed in the first place. These imaginative versions of himself that Oikawa had created all coexisted as one self—the ever changing and ever existent, Tooru Oikawa. 

The minute he realized there was no binary to what was real and what was not, Oikawa lifted his head up from the base of his knees. In and of itself, there was no such thing as a true or false version of Oikawa as it didn’t exist, nor had existed. The version of himself he had shown you, the one he had wanted to believe was him—in actuality, was him all along. The true self was within the process; in what became the “true” version of the man named Tooru Oikawa.

The concept between the true and the false self could not hold any substance to him anymore—if he had stashed away the true to move into the false, then the true self never had any truth to begin with. The distinction he had comprehended immediately pulled him out of his subconscious, back into the body of his awareness.

The impact was so effective that for the first time in months, he felt like crying. The numbness in his bones dissipated away, only the rush of blood moved throughout his veins. The aches underneath his skin subsided, his nerves finally relaxing from the pain. His lungs didn’t feel small anymore, the organs inside his body now feeling whole.

For the first time, on his own without your presence, Oikawa had felt normal.

Yet, he was far from it.

He sat on the floor in silence, half of his face buried in between his knees as he looked at the light shining through the window onto the concrete floor. The sun’s warmth could still be felt on his skin as it moved throughout the day, Oikawa’s brittle fingernails itching away at his skin. 

Turning his head towards his food, he looked at the cold bowl of miso soup and the stale plate of rice and dried mackerel on the tray. Oikawa reached out and grabbed the soup, placing the edge of the bowl between his lips. With his eyes closed, he tilted his head back and let the broth, tofu and green onions enter into his mouth as he satiated the long taste.

When his stomach felt full and the plates on his tray were empty, the time had passed onto the evening. The guards started to notice his changed behavior; Oikawa ate his food again while also obeying authoritative commands. In a matter of weeks, the warden had allowed him to return back to his cell in the dormitory.

The transition from solitary confinement to normal prison life was surprisingly smooth for Oikawa. The guards had informed him of the good news a few mornings after, commanding him to change back into the grey jumpsuit as they allowed him to quickly shower before returning up to the building.

After attending to his personal hygiene, he slipped back on the same grey jumpsuit as before, now freshly washed. The clothing on his body did not fit the same as it hung loose on his shoulders, now slightly too big on him. Oikawa had lost so much weight over the course of two months in the isolation chamber, his cheeks sunken into his face with bags forming under his eyes.

“Inmate 1099 finally tamed?” The warden walked up to Oikawa and the four guards behind him as they held onto the handcuffs on his wrists.

“Yes, he’s been eating normally and obeying our commands.” The officer on his right side responded, his left hand gripped firmly on Oikawa’s right forearm.

“Good to hear,” a complacent smirk plastered across the warden’s face as he stared down at Oikawa, noticing his head hanging low to the ground. “You can place him back into his designated cell.”

Oikawa looked up at the warden through the slits of his bangs, a small curl lifting in the corner of his mouth. The guards pulled him forward as he walked on the tiled flooring of the prison, moving up the stairs into the dormitories. As they hauled his body through the corridors and passed the prison mail center, the same old man from before noticed him.

Just as they passed through, the old guard stared at Oikawa from a distance. He noticed his feet dragging against the floor, his posture slightly leaning back as the younger guards held his hands behind his waist. As he lifted his head up, Oikawa noticed the man as well, turning his face towards him with a smirk on his lips.

There were many things the old officer observed about Oikawa that changed since the last time they conversed, yet the one thing that stuck out to the old man wasn’t his thin figure, or his long hair—rather yet, it was the cold dead stare of his eyes. A shiver ran down the man’s spine as he stared straight into the abyss of Oikawa’s pupils, nothing but pure madness residing within.

Unbeknownst to you, there was one final letter Oikawa had wrote. He scribbled it on a napkin from his food tray in the isolation chamber and then soon transferred it to paper, but unfortunately, it was lost in the mail, never to be opened and never to be seen. Had you seen the letter, who knows what would have happened.

September 24thTokyo Detention HouseInmate #1099 My dear, Who am I? I’m so sorry that I have been lying to you. What I’ve been showing you is not the real me. I can never truly put what I feel into words. I lost myself to you. The truth is I’m scared. I’m scared of myself, and I’m scared of disappointing you. I told you I wasn’t the person who I used to be, that I changed my ways. I wanted to believe that as well, that I’m a changed person. The kind of man you saw in me... the kind of man you perceive me as... that is the version I want to be, yet I know I never can be. Under these circumstances, I ended up repeating exactly what I regretted. And now I serve the consequences. My beloved angel... I’m sorry for everything.

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© hoeneymilktea 2024, I am protected by copyright. I do not give permission to translate or repost my works.

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

Propaganda masterpost for desertduo

They are two idiots thinking eachother's udeas are good and then somehow winning

They are two idiots thinking eachother's udeas are good and then somehow winning

They don’t have a single brain cell between them. They poked the goat to “see what would happen” and ended up getting their bases covered in duped ender dragon eggs.

Particularly in Hermitcraft, they are the most chaotic together. Chaotic in the most stupid of ways. Example: they blew up an intricate machine from one of the most "threatening" people on the server, stopped posting for a while, tried fixing it and failed, and tried apologizing with diamonds (Grian), theme park gifts (Scar), and by calling the victim "handsome" and "smart" and everything they could think of. And THEN, when Doc (the victim) retaliated with very intricate pranks that take a lot of skill and knowledge, they teamed up, went to the perimeter they were banned from as their alter egos as a loophole, and FILLED the ENTIRE PLACE (and it's a ginormous hole down to bedrock, many chunks wide) with CHICKENS. Just. A lot of chickens. Chickens everywhere. Oh my god. And another thing. Grian loves pressing buttons, like ADORES it (that's how the machine broke in the first place) and Scar... well. He gets confused easily and also breaks a lot of machines. So when people in the server build stuff, they have to both Grian-proof it (make sure an overexcited person who loves pressing buttons won't break the system) and Scar-safe it (make sure it's easily understandable and won't be broken like that). But now they also have to GRIAN-AND-SCAR-PROOF their stuff, because i swear, they multiply each other's dumbassery like by 100. And all that is just from the current arc of Hermitcraft season NINE. If we go back to season eight for a second, Grian decided to fake being AFK in all his friends' bases, and when he got to Scar's, Scar built him a ROLLERCOASTER RIDE to the BOAT TOTEM (boatem) HOLE THAT GOES BEYOND BEDROCK. People constantly fell there in the season and it was hell gearing themselves back up. But Scar was sure they were gonna land on the boatem and thought Grian was asleep because of time differences. But he failed and both died either way. And good fucking thing Grian was watching it all happen. Scar was SINGING him a SONG. You could even HEAR HIM COMING UP WITH IT BEFORE THE ACTUAL RIDE. Scar by FAR had the BEST reaction to the AFK experiment. And GODDD they're such idiots together. Unless they're in it for survival (aka the Life series) in which case Grian basically becomes his nanny let's be real. Scar is way too prone to die. He dies literally all the time and someone's gotta have him on a leash.

grian thinks that hes the responsible one in the dynamic but really hes just as much a chaos gremlin as scar is

they enable each other constantly. fellow builders to friends to enemies to friends to enemies to f

they share two braincells with each other and they do not work half the time. The number of things they fucked up is not even countable. One of them will be like "I'll save you!" and then both of them need someone to come and save them. They also are connected at the hip and love to annoy each other and other people so so much. they need help

They are so. so. Pesky british bird who loves explosions and has an attention span of 2 + catboy scammer who likes to lick magic and die badly. They are perfect for each other and their friendship is so precious to me. They are canonically soulmates. Currently theyre camping out on the edge of their enemy's giant hole because they accidentally exploded his machine together while Grian was procrastinating. The situation escalated because Grian likes war and Scar likes chaos so now theyre sitting directly in the path of their enemy's giant TNT-pooping goat mecha. Their plan? Build a buttercup-themed mecha to fight it because buttercups are poisonous to goats

They have caused a lot of chaos and destruction due to their lack of braincells /pos

Scar dragged Grian to the desert on a llama to monopolize on its sand, they blew up their friend’s tunnel bore, and rode a roller coaster together. They just bounce a braincell back and forth basically.

They ping pong a brian cell between each other and the few times it produces a thought the idea is always a bad one

they have two brain cells between them and they are not sure where they left them, they actively search for trouble and act sincerely shocked when it bites them on the ass, very orange cat coded if you ask me

Things only work out for them by pure luck. They both think they have the braincell and will be the one to pull each other through but they are both wrong. Tripping over their own feet and stumbling so hard and yet still coming out on top just because the others fall over harder

They get in a room together and its like all braincells disappear. They blew up their neighbors redstone, they filled his base with thousands of chickens, they die nonstop, they bully the other (in a friendly way) constantly and then do the exact same thing, theyre dunbasses ur honor

Theyre literally, just an echochamber of dumb. They actively lose braincells when around eachother. Grian seems smart and calculated but he can never get anything to work properly and scar is just an absolute hazard to himself and grian tries to keep him safe. They both die in minecraft so much. Grian also just has a habit of pressing every button lever or chest he ever sees. Even if its an obvious trap. He breaks stuff so easily. Grian WILL press the big button on top of the tnt block thats in plain sight. Especially right after scar says "i wonder what that does". Theyre duo can be summed up to trickster dumbass and dumbass with a heart of gold. They literally started a prank war by accidentally blowing up someones redstone. They are the unattended children on every server theyre in.

long live the science bros.

One owed the other a life debt for killing them with a creeper (it was just a prank, bro) and so they spent the season trying to monopolize all of the sand in a desert, and that's jusr scraping the surface of how stupid they are.

[lazlolullaby]

Angel Island Guardians Wachowski pt 2: Movie changes

tldr: Sonic Unleashed based universe where Mobians, Chao, Humans + sacred creatures just exist. Like real life except there's Mobians just chilling on the streets + in the history books.

This is my sandbox, please sit and enjoy. Incorporating video game/TV show lore in broad strokes, just take what you want.

Part 1 - backstory (there)

Part 2 - movie edits (here)

Movie 1 is still about Tom and Sonic.

Something something parallels of Tom keeping the Chao Garden a secret + Sonic keeping his speed powers secret and then both deciding to share them with others so they can breathe.

Opening scene with Sonic and Tom is changed, instead of the speed trap and Sonic sneaking around, it's Sonic and Tails running around to find the "Chao Garden". And then the big shot of Angel Island floating through the trees. Tails can fly up there, Sonic looks both ways before trying to run up the sheer cliff. He almost makes it, but then is stuck clinging to the side of the rock face. Sonic can't reach any other foot holds, can't cling on, starts to yell for help. Then a rope drops down with a carabiner on it. Tom pulls Sonic up to the top of the cliff. Tails finds them. They all sit down and enjoy the sunrise.

Tom says he's going to be leaving soon for San Francisco, going to try city living with his sister-in-law for a few months for a life change. (also background implications of Rachel's ex-husband took the car in the divorce and she needs some help getting her life back in order, even if the help comes from someone she dislikes.)

Sonic says he's fine, but later he has a panic attack and causes a local blackout. Tom tells Wade exactly what to do to do emergency generator, but Wade is like, "I'm going to do one better" and calls the Government on the town to do a full power system check.

They send Robotnik and he is very intense and scary. Robotnik is very desperate for energy - no matter how many lives he ruins he wants to have power for his plans to take over the world. Just because he's smart he should be ultimate dictator. Agent Stone is also there and is still simping.

Sonic overthinks and thinks they're here to find him and take him away. So he tries to use a Ring, but he accidentally leaves them on the San Francisco building.

Sonic runs, finds Tom's car on the road and hides in it, making like, "I stowed away so we can have a last hurrah before you leave~" but Robotnik was able to find the energy surge/the shoe prints from running and follow Sonic.

Sonic saves Tom from the Egg Drones with speed powers and gets hurt.

Tom takes him to Maddie, Sonic gets healed, but is very worried about Tom and Maddie knowing about his speed powers. He wants to come clean, so;

Sonic starts, "I have something to tell you - about myself."

Tom is like, "wait is this about the speed powers?"

"YOU KNEW?"

"I saw you running like the wind when we first met in the Chao Garden. I thought you just slowed down for your friends."

but also a quieter moment:

"Cream can fly, that's a superpower. Tails has two tails and took apart the TV once. That's dangerous. Amy can hit targets blindfolded, she's powerful. You love them. Why can't you be yourself."

"It's different."

"How?"

"It just is."

Meanwhile Tails goes to Robotniks lab and looks at the machines and formulas. Tails corrects Eggman's math and Agent Stone gently picks him up and kicks him out.

Things line up the same as the movie at this point.

Sonic, Tom and Maddie get Sonic's rings, Eggman attacks, Sonic runs and fights Eggman. Amy picks up a hammer and gets a hit in, the Mobians + people of Green Hills protect Sonic.

Everything else is the same except the Mushroom Planet is actually the Mushroom Zone. A vast uninhabited Island where the only people that visit are researchers for a few months at a time. (Like Antarctica.).

End credit scene of Tom dropping off his cop badge at the precinct and bothering the park rangers for a spot. Maddie had 2 cakes made in case the park rangers rejected him.

Movie 2 is more about Maddie + Rachel + Knuckles~

Something something Maddie, Rachel and Knuckles were all raised to be Guardians of the Master Emerald, given a task that was bigger than them that defines them, that could crush them if they weren't careful. (we have to earn the Mom Wachowski + Son Knuckles relationship here. Also Tika Sumpter wanted a larger role for Maddie + might as well involve her sister.)

It's been 1 year.

Tom had coordinated with Sonic + Tails to help bring researchers up to Angel Island. Tom changed jobs from cop to park ranger, with special knowledge on Chao. Now that more people know it takes the burden off of his family to protect the Chao.

Rachel and Jojo have moved to Green Hills, Rachel found a "better job", and Jojo loves chilling with her aunt and uncle too. The twist is that Rachel's "better job" is actually working for GUN, trying to find Sonic's weaknesses in case he goes rogue.

Agent Stone has taken over the Mean Bean. Only Tails ever interacted with Stone + knew he worked with Robotnik, so no one listens when Tails says Stone is evil. They just think their youngest has a rivalry with the new coffee shop owner.

Tom, Maddie, Rachel and Jojo are going on vacation to Hawaii. They're going to "finally have that honeymoon/renew their vows" because they've been protecting Angel Island this whole time.

Sonic is house-sitting + feeding Ozzy while they are gone. Sonic immediately invites his friends over for a sleepover party. Tails + Amy and any other fav Mobians show up! (Cream is too young.)

And the party gets crashed by Knuckles. Knuckles had been trying to find Angel Island and the "traitor Tikal and her apprentice." He saw the Wachowski's research paper on Angel Island and recognized the Master Emerald Temple.

Knuckles gets into a fight with Sonic, Amy + Tails, he gets beaten and thrown into the Mean Bean Coffee shop. Tails tries to warn them, but Sonic is like, "no, that weird Sad Bean guy isn't evil."

Agent Stone convinces Knuckles that "they took your job from you. The precious thing you swore to protect..." So Knuckles gets Eggman from the Mushroom Zone and they go from there.

Sonic and Tails go on a journey to get the Compass for the Master Emerald. Amy stays home to fix the house/Tails asked her to keep an eye on Stone + Wade. She's the "Bad cop" in the interrogation scene between Wade + Stone.

The bar scene happens, Sonic feels like he's responsible for Tails + is a little smothering, but Tails is proving to be very capable. The snowboarding mountain scene happens, Sonic rescues Tails over getting the compass.

Meanwhile, Tom + Maddie renew their vows. Sonic interrupts. "Ok so we thought we could do it alone but Robotnik has the Compass for the Master Emerald and we don't know where they're going to be but it's going to get bad real fast if we don't stop them-"

Maddie goes, "Sonic. Why do you think I chose this specific island in Hawaii?"

"...your Dad said he wanted you to go there...OH YOUR DAD!"

Rachel pops up. "He told you? Of course, you were his favorite."

Tom, "Woah, nobody told me." Turns to Maddie, "so the waterproof cameras, the boat rental and scuba gear for tomorrow...?"

"Same plan as Angel Island. Discover it, make it public, and let the nerds have it."

"Awesome."

Rachel is having a breakdown. "Of course! Why would I assume what my father wanted! He was so close with you! Not me! He never thought about anything or anyone outside that stupid Emerald!"

Maddie tries to calm Rachel down, "It's what we swore to protect. It's bigger than us."

"That's what he said! He always put that Emerald above us! And so are you! You lied to everyone about going to Hawaii! Instead it's the family responsibility all over again! The one he died for!"

So basically, Rachel has complicated feelings of resentment to her father and sister for "protecting the Master Emerald" over living their lives. Maddie + Dad Sumpter were close and dedicated to Angel Island.

Rachel felt isolated, so she left to San Francisco, got married, had her kid, got divorced and while she wouldn't change it because she loves her daughter Jojo, it's hard to cope. Then Angel Island was revealed to the public, now Maddie gets to leave her responsibility. Then the last straw that Maddie isn't living her life, she's still dedicated to the thing that caused a mad Mobian to kill her estranged father.

So Rachel calls GUN to stop the Wachowski family from fighting Robotnik. Knuckles and Robotnik do show up, GUN overdoes it and everyone is detained. Robotnik escapes + betrays Knuckles.

they are all held in the same area. Maddie realizes that Knuckles is the kid of the Echidna that killed her father. But she's trying to tell Knuckles "you're not your father's choices." Because. She's an adult and she's worked through her grief mostly. And Knuckles is a teenager and she recognizes that same grief that was in her not too long ago.

Maddie apologizes to Tom and the kids for hiding secrets. Rachel and Tails break everyone out. "Little Sibling squad" is their team name. Maddie and Rachel hug, the team decides to keep making a distraction so Sonic + Knuckles can get to the Master Emerald before Eggman does.

Knuckles is still feeling bad due to the betrayal, so he's not exactly friendly. But they make it through the Temple. And Knuckles gets nervous so he fights Sonic + Eggman gets away with the Master Emerald. The Temple collapses, Sonic and Knuckles save each other and actually become friends.

The big Green Hills fight with the giant mech happens as usual. Amy again, gets a few hits in against the Mech + the drones. Sonic goes Super Sonic.

Instead of the Chaos Emeralds being melded back into the Master Emerald, they are scattered for mcguffins later. (Chaos was also released but he glooped his way to the forest before anyone noticed.)

Knuckles wants to give the Emerald back to Maddie, but she refuses and asks him to join the family.

Also Knuckles chilling on Angel Island with Chaos, Tikal, and the Chao. Then Sonic and Tails show up to invite him to play baseball. Maddie, Rachel and Jojo take over the watch.

The stinger is that Agent Stone has a journal from Gerald Robotnik and a white Chaos Emerald in his palm.

.

.

.

That's all I got, I am not going to change Sonic 3 until I see it when it's released. Hope you liked it~ You've got blanket permission to use these ideas in your fanworks, but no AI please, it's not enrichment if you're not doing it.

[ch0xxxxxiyz]

README.TXT

UPDATE JUNE 29 2025

https://www.tumblr.com/ch0xxxxxiyz/787708939069456385/important-update?source=share

Ello there guys!!

I go by names of Mari (my actual name), Charlie (my comfort name) and 926 (my designation name)

this post is here to get to know better in there idk

a bit more abt me or smth

~ my bday is on September 26th

~ I don’t want to give any info of my age, but the only thing I can tell is that I’m already over 15, so whoever am I, child or even full adult, PLEASE DO NOT ACT WEIRD.

~ although I don’t identify yet, I’m a genderfluid robotkin.

~ I live in the worst country y’all ever heard of (aka Romania)

~ I like to go by any pronouns cuz I don’t care who am I on the internet, it’s important to be myself

wow, motivational

NOW FOR AN IMPORTANT BYI!!

~I have undiagnosed BPD and emotional disorders and I’m currently trying to find a way to cure them all by myself with the help of information from psychology classes

~I have an extremely exaggerated sense of broken humor, so please stop me when I’m almost losing it

~my content will be mainly centered in drawing. However it’ gonna be 14+ content due to sometimes doing vents and disturbing imagery (and sometimes SFW-ish suggestive??)

~ I won’t ask you if you’re over 14, but I recommend you to be smart on the internet

~ if you like my content but don’t like the things I warned about in the info about content PLEASE SIMPLY IGNORE THEM. A reminder that ignorance is also a virtue

~I don’t have a more detailed DNI list, but I’m making CLEAR that p4r4ph1l3s (z00s and PDF’s), pr0shifters, and any kind of discrimination and drama is NOT welcome to my page. In rest, you can follow even if you’re in the most toxic fandom cuz I don’t care, I just let you be free

~if we’re following each other that doesn’t mean we are friends, that simply means that we like our content we make. In fact, I’m saying this just to keep you (and even myself) safe on the internet and to avoid any kind of drama, may be real or may be fake

FANDOMS:

~Murder Drones (mainly!! anyways THIS SHOW CHANGED MY LIFE)

~TADC

~Dandy’s World (good side only)

~Brawl stars (good side only)

~CookieRun: Kingdom

~Animal Crossing (haven’t played ACNH a while)

~Splatoon (good side only) (I stopped playing this game but I still love the lore and artwork)

~FNAF (currently in process of getting into this fandom again bc I forgot the entire lore and its been like 5-6 years since I didn’t obsess over this)

MUSIC I LISTEN TO:

~ Linkin Park

~ Weezer

~ Green Day

~ Limp Bizkit

~ Fall Out Boy

~ System of a Down

~ Deftones

(I also listen to breakcore and trending music but it’s simply not my type)

KINLIST:

~ Serial Designation V (Murder Drones)

~ Doll (Murder Drones)

~ Ragatha (TADC)

~ 8-Bit (Brawl Stars)

~ Finx (Brawl Stars)

~ Shrimpo (Dandy’s World)

~ Cosmo (Dandy’s world)

~ Sugarfly Cookie (CRK)

~ Hollyberry Cookie (CRK)

~ Crunchy Chip Cookie (CRK)

~ Black Forest Cookie (CRK)

~ Pastry Cookie (CRK)

~ Shino (ACNH)

~ Isabelle (ACNH)

~ Marie (Splatoon)

~ Marina (Splatoon)

~ Shiver (Splatoon)

For a bit of art policy, pls credit me if you use my fanart or draw my chars as a gift for me but PLEASE DO NOT REPOST (resharing on blog is ok) AND CLAIM AS YOURS EVEN ON OTHER SOCIALS. I will also open Robux commissions but not now. For personal reasons I don’t do art trades and requests srry :’(

alr, here there are some refs of my dronesona/robotsona (REOPENING HER MODEL/SPECIES SOON)

DO NOT TRACE/COPY/STEAL!!

that’s it for now chat bye

[housescoutus]

San Diego Real Estate: Top Homes on the Market Now

Introduction

San Diego is one of the best places to live in California. It has great weather, beautiful beaches, and friendly communities. People love the relaxed lifestyle, and there are always fun things to do. That’s why so many people want to buy a home here.

If you're thinking about buying a home, now is a great time to start. The San Diego real estate market has many choices. You can find small homes, big homes, condos, and new buildings. There is something for every type of buyer.

In this blog, we will look at why San Diego is a great place to live, what types of homes are available, and how the market is doing right now. We will also give you easy tips for buying a home. Whether this is your first time buying or you are looking to move again, this guide will help you understand the market better.

Let’s get started and learn more about the top homes in San Diego and how you can find the one that’s right for you.

Why People Love Living in San Diego

San Diego has many good things that make people want to live here. Here are a few reasons why it is so popular:

Nice Weather: San Diego has sunny days almost all year. It is never too hot or too cold.

Beautiful Beaches: You can go to the beach anytime. The water is clear, and the sand is soft.

Good Schools: There are many good schools for children of all ages.

Fun Activities: You can go hiking, surfing, or biking, or just enjoy the parks.

Safe Areas: Many neighborhoods are quiet and safe for families.

Job Opportunities: There are many jobs in healthcare, technology, education, and tourism.

Because of all these things, people from all over the country are moving to San Diego. It’s a city where you can enjoy life and also invest in a strong real estate market.

What the San Diego Real Estate Market Looks Like in 2025

The San Diego real estate market is busy in 2025. Many people are looking to buy homes, but there are not a lot of homes for sale. This makes the market competitive. Here are some simple facts about the market right now:

Home Prices: Prices are high but stable. They are not going up too fast.

Low Inventory: There are fewer homes for sale, so buyers need to act quickly.

Fast Sales: Good homes sell in just a few days.

Better Interest Rates: Loan rates are a little lower than last year.

Growing Areas: New homes are being built in parts of the city that are growing fast.

If you are ready to buy, this could be a smart time to start looking. You will have more choices now than if you wait until the market gets even tighter.

What Kinds of Homes You Can Find in San Diego

San Diego has many types of homes. You can find something that fits your lifestyle and budget. Here are the most common types:

Single-Family Homes

These homes are perfect for families. They usually have more space, a yard, and a garage. You get more privacy and room to grow.

Condos

Condos are smaller, easier to take care of, and often in city areas. They may come with shared spaces like a pool or gym. They are good for first-time buyers or people who want less work.

Townhomes

Townhomes are like a mix between a condo and a house. They often have two or three floors, small yards, and shared walls with neighbors. They are great for young families or couples.

New Construction

New homes are being built in growing parts of San Diego. They have modern features, energy-saving systems, and are often part of planned communities.

Whatever type of home you are looking for, you can likely find it in the San Diego area.

Best Areas to Look for Homes

San Diego is a big city with many different areas. Each one has something special. Here are a few types of areas you might like:

Near the Coast

These areas are close to the ocean. You can enjoy beach walks, sunsets, and cool breezes. Homes here are more expensive but offer a great lifestyle.

Urban Neighborhoods

These are areas close to downtown. They are full of restaurants, shops, and things to do. Condos and townhomes are common here.

Quiet Suburbs

These neighborhoods are peaceful and great for families. You can find larger homes and good schools. They are not far from the city but feel more relaxed.

New Growth Areas

These are places where new homes are being built. They might be a little farther from the center, but they offer new, modern houses at better prices.

Look at different neighborhoods to see which one feels right for you.

Simple Tips for Buying a Home in San Diego

Buying a home is a big decision, especially in a busy market. Here are some easy tips to help you:

1. Get Pre-Approved

Before you start looking at homes, talk to a lender. They will tell you how much you can spend. This makes you ready to make an offer fast.

2. Set a Budget

Know how much you can afford. Include other costs like taxes, insurance, and moving expenses.

3. Work with a Real Estate Agent

A local agent knows the San Diego market. They can help you find homes quickly and make a strong offer.

4. Be Flexible

You may not find the perfect home right away. Be open to different areas or styles.

5. Act Quickly

In a fast market, good homes don’t stay available for long. If you like a home, don’t wait too long to make a decision.

Following these tips will make the process smoother and help you find a great home.

What to Expect After Buying a Home

After you buy a home in San Diego, your life may change in exciting ways. Here’s what to expect:

You Can Settle In: You get to decorate, set up your space, and make it feel like home.

Build Equity: As your home grows in value, you build financial strength.

Enjoy the City: You can explore the city, make new friends, and enjoy outdoor living.

Grow Roots: Living in one place helps you feel part of the community.

Buying a home isn’t just about money—it’s about having a place that belongs to you.

Is Now the Right Time to Buy?

Many people ask this question. The answer depends on your goals. Here are some reasons why now could be a good time:

Prices are stable: You won’t have to worry about prices going up fast.

Interest rates are better: You may get a better deal on your loan.

More choices are available: The summer season usually has more homes for sale.

Long-term investment: Real estate in San Diego has strong value over time.

If you’re ready, have a stable income, and want a place to call your own, now might be the perfect time.

Final Thoughts

The San Diego real estate market offers something for everyone. From sunny beach areas to quiet suburbs, you can find a place that fits your lifestyle and needs. The market is strong, homes are selling fast, and buyers are making smart moves.

Take your time, learn about the market, and work with people who can help you. With the right steps, you can find the perfect home in one of the most beautiful cities in California.

Whether you are looking for your first home or your next one, San Diego is full of opportunities. Now is the time to start your search.