#The Seeker's Inbox

[velvetwyrme]

I hope am not bothering with this question but i wanted to ask-

Who do you think from the Transformers cast whould be a cicada?

Sorry again for bothering and bad gramar i don't know how to english well

hiya! you're not bothering me at all!! funnily enough it's actually cicada season where i live, so it's the perfect time to ask 😂

im... not actually sure! i feel like theres actually quite a few good candidates (all for very different reasons!) but none of them quite fit. that being said. out of my options: Swerve is talkative and has that sturdy sorta chunky shape that cicadas have going on (or the ones i know of anyway)

other options I thought of was Blaster/Soundwave because of their music/audio related stuff...

also irl bug tw for under the cut, not related to the ask but. ???

GOOGLE HAS A CICADA BUTTON?? LMAO?

[andy-kuramy]

Trying to draw Mitsuyo in watercolor is like making a sculpture of the human anatomy

The shirt will always cover the juicy shadows that I made....

Anyways, this stills being a wip, so please let me cook, I swear I won't burn the food

[thegreatyin]

HELL YEAH POWER ENDING SEEKERS ARE MY FAVORITE MR CARDS GENRE i mean they're all my favorite because i legitimately love seeing different people's interpretations of the power ending and the weird fucked up (the fucked up part is important, one must always make their bat fucked up) OCs they make as a result of it. but also i think there's a lot of really fun stuff one can do with a human who deliberately chooses to discard said humanity in order to ascend as a potential replacement for the very figure they're desperately Seeking to learn about and potentially avenge. i'm always kinda surprised it's not more common tbh?? nemesis and BaL just (very very understandably) lend themselves more obviously to seekers i suppose

also that alt strategy is totally valid. it's basically what i pulled with caeru's account all the way back before finishing heart's desire + a not insignificant chunk of evolution. have fun with the dream collecting :)

[cheesecake-bich]

Could you draw my oc with Ratchet pls

Also you’re are is so good would eat 10/10

SHES GIVING!!

She’s so cute I can’t I LOVE PEOPLES JETS OCS

They’re always 💅🏽✨

[thefinalwitness]

i thought about for the longest time if i wanted y'shtola or l'aiha to change their names when they got married, like, how a spouse often takes the other person's last name. the problem is that, in seeker culture, the last name is meant to indicate who the seeker woman's father is, it's literally just their father's name minus the clan letter. so it doesn't make any goddamn sense for seeker women to change their last name to their wife's last name because her WIFE'S dad is not HER dad biologically, which is what the naming convention is for, you know.

but i thought really hard about what WOULD possibly change and i figured it out: clan letter. of course. so l'shtola or y'aiha. naturally i really did not like either of these and wishwashed onto the answer i was already probably going to come to regardless, which is that neither of them would change their names at all in the first place. but it was a fun mental exercise.

[marvellousimagines]

Requested by crystalrose36

“Who is that?” the voice came to you as if through a fog. Your whole body felt like it was weighed down with lead, as though coming out of a particularly deep sleep.

“I-I don’t- I thought-” someone else stammered, and you recognized that voice. Your mind was as slow to wake up as the rest of you, however, so you couldn’t quite place it yet. He called your name, a question, as if unsure of who you really were.

“Ngh, what?” you managed to croak out, feeling like you haven’t used your vocal cords in ages. Finally you forced your eyes open, blinking until they managed to focus.

You were in a cocoon of wood and leaves. A very familiar-feeling cocoon, its life energy connected to yours. Your Titan, Wildwood Druid, formed a protective barrier around you. The front of the cocoon was open, four figures staring down at you: a boy with blond hair blinking curiously at you, a girl with light pink hair trying to examine the titan still around you, a woman slightly older than the two teenagers who gave the appearance of being uninterested. And in the front of the group was a very familiar face, looking like he'd seen a ghost. He looked a bit older than you remember, but that was definitely Dante Vale.

“Dante?” you asked, rubbing at your eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on you. “What… happened?”

“You vanished. You’ve been gone for years, I… I didn’t know what happened to you,” Dante said, reaching for you to help you out of your Titan cocoon. You took his hand and let him pull you up, but your legs were weak and wobbly so you had to lean on Dante for support, the blonde boy coming up on your other side to help keep you on your feet.

“I’m not sure either,” you replied, deep in thought. Once out of your cocoon, the Titan shifted back into her usual humanoid form, though stayed out of her amulet and seemed wary. “The Foundation said I’d be able to handle the mission by myself, so I went. There was… a Titan. A massive one. Pain. Then… it was like I was asleep. I don’t think I was injured.”

“It seems the Foundation under-estimated whatever situation they sent you into here. Wildwood Druid apparently had to shield you from whatever it was, which put the both of you into stasis. When you didn’t come back, I was upset at the Foundation for sending you off alone,” Dante said, a quiet anger showing through his words. “I might have a few more words for them once we get back.”

“So, Dante, are you going to introduce us to your friend here?” the younger of the two girls asked. She had been keeping out of the way of the reunion, but it seems her curiosity got the better of her.

“Oh, right,” Dante said with a sheepish grin. He gave your name to the group, before introducing his new team in turn, “Lok, Sophie, and back there is Zhalia.”

You tried to wave, but that felt like a little too much effort for your body right now, so you just smiled and gave a nod of greeting. “Pleasure to meet all of you,” you said, but you couldn’t help but think one person was missing from your little reunion. “So, where’s DeFoe?”

Dante tensed beside you, and the two teenagers looked at you like you’d grown a second head. Zhalia just quirked an eyebrow as she glanced in your direction. “What?” you asked.

“DeFoe… he’s not like you remember him anymore,” Dante said. He glanced around before guiding you over to a fallen tree to sit on the log. Apparently this was a conversation you needed to be sitting for.

“Hold on, you used to be FRIENDS with DeFoe?” Lok asked in disbelief, and you wondered just how much you’d missed.

Dante waved for the other three to sit down too, and you could see him trying to plan out how to explain the situation to both his current team and to you. “Y/N, DeFoe and I were all friends, back in high school. We joined the Foundation soon after, going on missions for them,” Dante explained to the rest of his team. “When Y/N disappeared, DeFoe… blamed the Foundation and me. I was supposed to go with, but I was called away on an urgent matter so Y/N was sent alone.” He then turned to you. “DeFoe quit the Foundation. He was bitter, and he joined the Organization. He wants to bring the Foundation down, and me personally.”

Your heart sank as you thought of your two closest friends mourning you when you weren’t actually dead. How that tore the two of them apart, and sent DeFoe on a darker path. He always seemed a little resentful of Dante, but you didn’t think…

“I want to see him,” you decided. “If my disappearance turned him into an enemy, then maybe my return will bring him back too?”

Dante sighed. “I’m afraid it probably won’t be that easy,” he said. “If you stick around with us, you’ll see DeFoe again before long. But before that, you need to rest.” He looked up at Wildwood Druid. “You too,” he added with a small smile.

You gave a single nod of acknowledgement, the Titan doing so as well at the same time before disappearing back into her amulet.

“Let me help you back to where we’ve set up camp,” Dante offered, standing up and helping you up alongside him.

[sunflawyer]

Mayo Mayo Hi !! This is why I asked for Abby's favourite fruit the other day !! ☀️🍊💛🧡

I had been searching for 1980's Strawberry Shortcake designs and, well... got ideas :)

GAAATEEEEEEEEEEEE OOHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🧡🧡🧡💗💕💗💕🧡💕🧡💕🧡💕💗🧡💕🧡💕🧡💕🧡💕💕💗💗💕💗💕🧡💕🧡💕🧡OH MY GOD!!!!!! OH MY GOD THIS IS SO???? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🌻🌻🌻🌻🧡🧡🧡 MY LITTLE CLEMENTINE!!!!! ..... oh my darling clementine... my baby baby.....

please abby in strawberry shortcake world 😭😭😭💕💕💕 GATE AAHHH HUGS YOU I ABSOLUTELY LOVE STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE IN FACT I ACTUALLY AM IN A WATCHALONG FOR THE 2000S VER.... AAAHH😭😭😭💕😭😭😭😭 1980-2000 strawberry shortcake was my favs ever!!! she's just. a little strawberry 🍓🍓

but abby 🥹🥹🥹🧡🧡 if abby is in strawberry shortcake world her name would be....hmmm Cherry Clementine! Maybe? She loves cherries too 🍒🍊..... HSJJDKFKFKF GATE THIS IS EVERYTHING I LOVE YOU 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕!!

look at her adorable hat.... kisses her on the forehead mwah!

fun fact i grew up watching the 2000 one! i was such a big fan that i had a big plushie of her haha 💕💕😭😭😭

[arsene-fixates]

YOU GET KIsSED

It was rly quick so they’re kind of messy 💀

AAUAGGHAHGHHHHGHHHG 💥💥💥💥💥💥

[the-galactic-hunters]

M!A Seeker can finally live the dream of being a vampire for a time

HOLY SHIT LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TO WHOEVER GIVE ME THAT MAGIC ANON, THANK YOU!!!!!!

[guhamun]

@caemthe said (inbox):

[ conall ] A low whistle left the man’s lips as he looked at the carnage left behind. What a mess. Blood, brain matter and cyberware liquid splattered on the walls and ceiling. One had to have one’s eyes fixed on the floor to not step on corpses and other things. Not that it mattered to Conall, but it was interesting to see someone who reminded him of his rowdier days. “Still with us, kid?” He recognized their face from the photos Sétanta showed him whenever he visited, even though there was little resemblance between the sprout in the pictures and the forsaken madman here. “You look like shit, but that’s beside the point. That cyberware of yours doesn’t look too hot, so… need help with a maintenance or an upgrade?”

CU. THEY KEPT SLIPPING from between his fingers each time he appeared, but like a hound on the scent, Nagayoshi always found him once again. His singlemindedness made him no different from a machine following through a directive, and with how obsessive his rage had become, he might as well be no different from one. His body was becoming more and more like such as the days passed, the Ripperdoc that he had been pointed to having warned him that despite how well his body took to the amount of cyberware he had placed within him, everyone had a limit. Nagayoshi didn’t care about that, though. What did he have to go back to anyway? Nobunaga was not forgiving -- everyone knew that, nor could he ever appear before his father and mother after dragging their names in the mud in his failure. Slumped against a wall, he had overextended himself again, his breathing heavy as he struggled to get himself back together. The faces of the Tyger Claws he had slaughtered indistinguishable from the trash that littered the ground to him, but one thing he knew, however, was that Cu was not among them.

     Slipped away again…

     There were days that he thought he saw that little backstabber, ready to kill them on spot when he realized he wasn’t even there. Hallucinations were never a good sign. Sharp gaze was quick to move towards the only other person who seemed alive in this sea of bodies. Appearance alone told him this wasn’t another Tyger, so then…who was this? ❝You wanna die?❞ he drawled, warning present within his tone as he pushed himself back up, the heavy gun he had placed down lifted as if it weighted no more than a child’s backpack. The words that came next gave him pause, eyes narrowing with no small amount of suspicion. People in Night City didn’t help for free. They did it because they got something from it. ❝Nah. I got all that pretty covered. Turns out a lot of people want things dead.❞ He barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ❝Brings to question…what’s a guy like you want with me, huh? Just bein' a good Samaritan?❞

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

TRICK OR TREAAAAAT

here's an aresi for you!

[astropithecus]

Diet Crystal Pepsi. Frito Lay Lemonade. Watermelon-flavored Oreos. Through the years, the shelves of stores have been filled with products that turned out to be flops, failures, duds, and losers. But only briefly filled with them, of course, because products like these tend to get yanked from stores quickly, leaving most consumers to wonder: Who exactly buys these things, anyway? Now a published study co-authored by two MIT professors answers that question. Amazingly, the same group of consumers has an outsized tendency to purchase all kinds of failed products, time after time, flop after flop, Diet Crystal Pepsi after Diet Crystal Pepsi. The study calls the people in this group “harbingers of failure” and suggests they provide a new window into consumer behavior. “These harbingers of failure have the unusual property that they keep on buying products that are taken from the shelves,” says MIT marketing professor Catherine Tucker, co-author of a paper detailing the study’s results. Significantly, Tucker adds, these star-crossed consumers can sniff out flop-worthy products of all kinds. “This is a cross-category effect,” Tucker explains. “If you’re the kind of person who bought something that really didn’t resonate with the market, say, coffee-flavored Coca-Cola, then that also means you’re more likely to buy a type of toothpaste or laundry detergent that fails to resonate with the market.”

Let me just say, this is a hell of a way to find out they quit making that coffee-flavored coke you liked.

[secret-room-item-pool]

lmao glad to see people like my Fucked Up thoughts :333

achem.

Toon creation happens in 4 stages. planning, incubation, the adjustment year and 'conditioning'.

planning is the concept art stage. sketch every single individual aspect of the Toon you want to make and run the design through one, two, three times. everything needs to be considered here. if theyre supposed to fly, make their bones hollow. if theyre supposed to be agile and athletic, make plans to adjust their circulation to prioritise muscles etc etc. this is one of the most important stages because every design is flawed, no matter what, and you need to think of how those flaws need to be patched up enough for the Toon to survive.

incubation is a lot less hands on and more waiting, but so much more finicky. a genetic stensil is put in an incubation tube, and a rough outline of the Toon's body will start to grow in coming months. the reason this is so finicky is that, unlike in human birth, not only do Toons use ichor [purified] instead of blood, but they won't need nutrients until their heart starts beating, and getting them into what is essentially an undeveloped fetus with no umbilical cord is a challenge. they need to be under near constant surveilance for this, because its an artificial dna stencil theyre using that mimics humanity, and if something mutates it needs to be fixed fast. about halfway in their heads are usually placed in a custom-made mold to develop the way they're supposed to. this isnt cruel, if the molds werent used youd just get a Toon unable to sense anything with a solid sheet of ichor for a head thatd starve to death in a few days.

after close to or slightly over a year in the tube, theyre removed from them. about this stage, they're pretty small, smaller than what they are ingame, and this is when handlers are designated. theyre then given a year to adjust to life and develop in the Gardenview facility. theyre pretty fragile and gummy for a bit, but when their skin goes firm, thats when they tend to start moving, speaking, the like. its important to let them around other Toons to get used to being around them, and give them a chance at being friends. if that cant happen for whatever reason, dandy [as the first and therefore oldest Toon made] has been 'conditioned' to keep them company so they dont go catatonic.

'conditioning' is when a Toon is taken from a group, connected to a machine and given a coded personality. the reason the adjustment year is so important is that it can directly affect how the Toon actually handles that personality. for example, scraps was supposed to be the original bully character, but that coding didn't work because her friendships overrode it. 'conditioning' is always effective, no matter how subtle, and it's always a stencil for a Toon to work around in figuring how they want to act.

except for shrimpo, but ill talk about him in another ask because hes a special case [my favourite] along with Toon death

- @secret-room-item-pool

wow this is so good?????

[lullabyes22-blog]

"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."

Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.

tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation

Re: the ending of S2:

Jinx did not die.

She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.

Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.

But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.

Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.

Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.

That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.

It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.

To fix things that seem irreparably broken.

And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.

Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.

That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.

Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...

And now what?

Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.

Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.

But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.

And all living things need connections.

That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.

And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.

And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.

That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.

Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.

Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.

Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.

That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.

She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.

"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."

She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."

It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.

That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.

It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.

The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.

Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.

Thematically, Jinx is change.

And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.

[maideninorange]

OC name starting with I (the second best letter, because it's Iyozane's initial).

Hm...You know what, this individual gets to be an Izzy. Izzy can best be described as "Stupidly lucky detective with a noir look (ruined by bright pink hair) that can manipulate ink." Actual ink. Not like Tsubakura's nanomachines. They treat a lot of their cases with this sort of carefree professionalism, as they currently have a perfect record. The Enigmatic Seeker case is proving to be their longest one though...

[foli-vora]

FOLI!!! CONGRATS!! you deserve the world and all the followers, you’re the one writer who has kept me reading on here!! i’m honored to be a part of your readers. thank you for sharing your talent and words with the world. i hope your inbox is full of prompts but i also love a good restful break for you haha. i would love a FLUFFY #16 (“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”) and i’ll let you pick with who! preferably frankie, din or ezra! or maybe frank or matt!

Hey sweet angel, thanks for your request! We're totally ignoring how long this took me, ok?? God I'm so sorry. Thank you so much for being here, I appreciate you! And I hope you enjoy your fluff-fest xo

attention seeker

frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 1.4k  warnings: no use of y/n, swearing, alcohol consumption, brief fainting spell, fluff and sweet drunken declarations, i have missed this man

The night is comfortable and warm, the buzz of the occasional mosquito flying by your ear as you recline into the cheap camping chair Benny had unfolded for you.

It'd been a while since he had successfully pried you out of your weekly take-out and true crime routine, but as he sits next to you now, yelling some shit at his brother across the table and spilling half of his beer in the process, you realise how much you've missed his drunken shenanigans.

And his hot friend pilot friend that you've been crushing on for an embarrassing amount of time that you've also struggled to say more than a few words to all night.

Maybe that's why you keep accepting the shots of tequila Benny keeps pouring. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe tonight's the night you'll go further than 'so how have you been?'.

“You’re wrong. Angel, tell him he’s wrong.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” you grin around your beer, shrugging loosely when Benny throws you a playful glare.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Leave the poor girl alone and just admit you’re wrong, you piece of shit,” Fish pipes up from beside Will, grinning widely at the way the younger Miller turns his gaze of betrayal on him.

He turns that smile on you and you swear you feel it in your damn bones.

"No, fuck the lot of you."

"Oh, Benny boo."

"No. Pope, fuckin' Google it."

"Man, let it go."

The urge for more snacks brings you to your feet and you laugh as the argument continues as you leave the table, the warm familiar rush of alcohol running along your limbs as you all but stumble your way into the humid air of the kitchen.

You hunt through the treasure trove of sweet and savoury treats in the cupboard before reaching for a bag of Doritos, groaning softly when they slip through your loose fingers and land with a light slap at your feet.

Life is too hard sometimes.

Your head spins as you bend to reach them, and you’ve either had too much to drink, or you stand back up too fast, because the last thing you remember is the dizzy spell that assaults your brain and the sudden blackness taking over your vision.

Vaguely you hear someone call out to you through the ringing in your ears, and you don’t quite know whether the arms that suddenly cradle you are real or just a figment of your imagination until you come to.

Sure enough someone’s there, sprawled out on the floor with you and pressed up hard against your back. 

“Hey, you good?” Fish asks, his voice tinged with concern rumbling into your ear. 

Oh, God. Of course it had to be him. It couldn’t have been Benny, or one of the other guys that you felt comfortably at ease around, no. No, it had to be the one that managed to get your stomach flipping and twisting if he so much as glanced your way. 

“I think so,” you mumble, raising a hand to rub along your forehead as the room swims in your vision before slowly coming into focus. “What happened?”

“You fainted—straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

He’s teasing you. A heat bites at the tips of your ears as you smile, and you weakly slap at the arm curled around your waist. You swear it tightens for just the slightest second. Or maybe that's just the tequila swimming in your mind.

“Stop it. I’m so sorry—”

He chuckles, the jump of his chest against your back and your heart warms from the deepness of it. “Don’t be. I’m just glad I was here—don’t want you hitting your head.”

“You're my hero,” you sing quietly as he starts to untangle himself from you, backing away just enough to give you room to sit up on your own.

“Seriously though, are you okay?”

He’s frowning when you look at him over your shoulder, the concern back and twisting the edges of his features. He lifts a hand, the roughened pads of his finger tips dragging across your forehead and leaving butterflies in their wake.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good," you say, smiling as he pulls his hand away and gives you another grin. "Thank you for not letting me hit my head.”

"Happy to help," he shrugs, fixing the ever present hat on his head as he stands before offering you a hand. “You need help getting up?"

You take it gratefully, enjoying the slightest squeeze of his fingers around yours. "I think this might be my safest option."

The shots must be catching up on you all at once, because even with Frankie's hand holding yours, you struggle to stand steadily on two feet let alone find the strength to stand completely with the sudden knock of intoxication assaulting you from all angles.

“Maybe you should sit down for a few more minutes,” he laughs along with you quietly, both hands now steadying as you shakily sink back to the floor. You miss the heat of his hands as soon as they leave your skin.

Humming softly as you shuffle to lean against the kitchen cabinets, your head rolls and threatens to drop as the alcohol continues to swim through your bloodstream but you fight to blink up at him, smiling when you find him watching you with the shadow of concern lingering at the edges of his expression.

“You good?” he asks again, brows coming together.

“Yup,” you hiccup, grinning. “Can you keep me company, Frankie?”

He seems to soften at your question, the concern melting away the longer you manage to stay awake and upright where you’re propped up. He gives you a small smile, something softer, sweeter. 

“I will if you want me to.”

You tap the floor next to you, watching through slightly blurry eyes as he slowly drops into the designated spot and stretches his legs out with a long tired sigh. He must feel you watching him, and he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes with a slight shine of hesitancy.

“What?”

“This is nice,” you murmur softly, warming when his eyes meet yours fully. “I never get you all to myself—Benny’s always in the way.”

His smile returns, and he dips his head somewhat shyly. “Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re cute as hell.”

He chuckles, hands smoothing along his jeans as he makes himself more comfortable beside you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Nope, I’ve had just enough. I needed the courage.”

His eyes find you again, this time swimming with obvious curiosity as he studies your expression. “What do you need courage for?”

“God, to just talk to you. You make me all nervous.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I know—you’re a nice guy,” you breathe, cheeks aching from your tired smile. “You’re a really nice, really hot guy.”

“Cut it out.”

He laughs again, his shoulder softly bumping into your own and you can’t help the drunken giggle that the small show of playfulness pries from you.

“No, that’s why I have a bit of a crush on you.”

The alcohol has the little confession falling from your lips before your mind even knows what's happening. You don't have time to regret it, though. You don't even think about regretting it. You'll worry about it in the morning.

But he doesn't seem to take the news badly, and it doesn't seem to make him uncomfortable. He merely makes a low noise of thought, the smile now wide along his lips as his head rests back against the cabinet door.

“That’s good to know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I have a bit of a crush on you, too.”

The alcohol burns beneath your skin and you scoff in disbelief, unable to get rid of the smile still tugging away at your lips. Maybe you did hit your head on the way down.

“You do not.”

“I do. Just ask the guys, they give me shit about it all the time.”

“We need to address this in the morning when my brain isn’t so wobbly,” you murmur, your head finally giving in to the heaviness weighing it down as it settles softly on his shoulder.

The tell tale feel of lips press against your head before the soft reassuring warmth of his cheek follows.

“We can do that."