#and ending as a super unhealthy coping mechanism? who else gets that?

[shivunin]

okay actually i have so many thoughts about this. and as soon as i finish his quest i am going to go write something with the two of them because like....at least at the moment so many of the things he has already had to deal with are the things Hawke winds up struggling with. and that fascinates me

FINALLY got the exiled prince dlc to work on my console and like. i get it now

[magicicephoenix]

DOCTOR WHO AU???

IM LISTENING

PLEASE

HERE YOU GO. i am just rambling

it ended up being super long, so. under the cut :)

okay so i'm still not sure if it'd be better for y/n to be the doctor or the dca. because on the one hand y/n being the doctor makes them a very very lonely last time lord who outlives all the companions they've tried to keep over the years, who saw two robots (bc i think it'd be better if they were separate in this instance) and went "oh my god. companions who will never die.", thus getting immediately attached. and sun and moon are fascinated by this otherworldly being who looks completely human to every single one of their sensors EXCEPT the fact that they have two hearts. one for each of them WHO SAID THAT anyway since obviously the doctor needs an accompanying master if y/n is the doctor i think maybe vanessa as the master would work. something something vanessa was an old friend who turned to the dark side (afton, somehow??? maybe afton WIAIT MAYBE AFTON WAS THat one super important time lord in the time lord council or whatever they're called from the end of season four and he's DETERMINED to have the time lords come back and that's why vanessa does all that oh my god it all makes sense). and y/n is always hoping she'll leave old ghosts behind but she can't and it's devastating every time aughh... and meanwhile y'know the dca are childcare animatronics but they know and can see troubles in any age and they're seeing a worrying amount of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this mysterious "doctor," so much so that they wonder if this doctor needs a doctor of their own. because even if the doctor is a different species they still need all the basic necessities of life that a human does and the dca are very specifically programmed to help humans. so they're just about perfect to help y/n!!!! and umm i think being able to see the universe is a super big deal to a couple of animatronics who were confined to a daycare their whole lives. maybe the inciting incident to their initial meeting had something to do with aliens trying to take down the human race through the children. and the dca notice the children acting strange and start going for help but no one's listening to them because they're "just robots" and it's frustrating and awful and they keep trying until by some coincidence they manage to inform y/n about it and y/n LISTENS to them doesn't ignore them and that's literally the ONLY THING they were asking for and y/n is the only one to give it to them. and then they work together (and isn't that wild for the dca, working with a perceived human instead of working under them, being able to make suggestions and offer ideas and not being brushed off!!!) and solve the mystery and defeat the terrible aliens who were using children for their master plan but due to all of it the dca's daycare is destroyed. and the dca has nowhere to go but stupid fazbear entertainment. and they've almost resigned themselves to returning to the hell of being nothing but an object for a giant corporation... until y/n says "come with me." and the dca say "yes."

ah right um on the other hand. time lord dca. two ideas i had: one, the master could be eclipse. then there'd be secondary idea one-A where the dca are in one body and one-B where they're separate. dunno about that one because a big thing with the doctor is that they're the SINGLE last time lord other than the master and they're desperate for companionship because of that. idea two: one half of the dca is the doctor and the other half is the master. prolly sun being doctor and moon being master but i could absolute see the other way around as well! then it hurts even more because they're two halves of the same whole, literally The Sun and The Moon as maybe they've chosen as titles instead of doctor and master actually. but the thing about the sun is that everything else orbits around it while the moon only revolves about the earth. wait oh my god that's fantastic actually. Sun taking the Master role because everything must be circling him, he must be at the center of everything, without him everything would flicker out and die, HE'S the most important thing and he needs EVERYONE to KNOW. and the most frustrating thing is that the moon is so so so enamored by the stupid earth and its stupid humans to pay enough attention to him. only one half of that moon is ever facing him but he needs all of its attention, he needs to see it all, and if he needs to rip the moon out of its orbit to do that then he WILL. meanwhile Moon is the little saving grace of the earth, so far away and unnoticeable that the humans don't notice his aid (like how the moon causes the tides). if the earth stopped spinning he'd be there to start them it again (anyone seen that one comic from the "what if?" book? yeah). no matter what he is there to keep earth and the humans safe, even if it's from the bright burning star that they rely on for life. and he's so so lonely, doing his best in the shadows, alone without his counterpart that has long been lost to time (or so he thinks) until he stumbles upon y/n and can't bear to let go. so when Sun returns, hoping his grand motions will capture Moon's heart, he is devastated to see Moon instead clinging tight to this small, insignificant life form. what about him? what about all the time they'd spent together? what happened to the sun and the moon? why is he not enough? and from devastation comes rage. from rage turns destruction. and, unfortunately for Sun, Moon despises destruction.

...or something like that.

[irondad-defensesquad]

i think mcu steve is extremely idealized.

first, he becomes a super human, and apparently all his disabilities and medical problems disappear. which is honestly not a good message to actual disabled people, imo.

second, his backstory is mostly mentioned. we don't see a lot from steve's childhood or anything on screen. i think they detail it more in the comics, the same way they do for tony's childhood, but the fact that it's almost absent from the movies is a problem. they only mention his mother's name as far as i remember. nothing else. (please correct me if i'm wrong, of course)

mcu steve doesn't feel like a flawed character that has to change, the same way others are, like tony. mcu tony is clearly a flawed human being with several issues and a traumatic childhood (even if the mcu tries to paint howard in a good light, it still explains why tony deals with so much self-hatred and relies on unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as drinking). we don't see steve developing as a character. they might joke in that one scene of endgame where present steve rolls his eyes at past steve, but honestly? to me they feel like the same character. steve never changes. even when he's clearly wrong, the narrative insists that he's right.

steve betrays tony and gives him a half-assed "apology" letter. steve does not mourn sam and bucky at all in endgame, instead focusing on that one girl he kissed ONCE. and steve not only abandoned bucky, he took away peggy's agency and her happy ending. she already had a loving husband and children. not to mention the implications here. steve went back to a very flawed and bigoted period of time, and it's implied that he did not try to intervene in tragedies such as bucky being turned into the winter soldier, or tony's parents tragically dying. steve just stayed home. why couldn't he fucking do that in the present? he could've retired without changing someone else's life for his own gain.

it doesn't make SENSE. the winter soldier was a great film and it showed steve that he has to move on from the past and do what he can in the present. but no, steve never leaves the past behind, he literally goes back to it. and even then, it's all about peggy. it's not about his family. nor his mother, sarah, who's probably the person who inspires steve the most. but where the fuck is she? why does she only get ONE mention?

and by the way, i used to love steve. the first avenger and the winter soldier are still solid movies to me. that's why his ending sucks ass. and i've seen many steve fans who agree with me. he's such an important character in the marvel universe, and perhaps a lot more enjoyable and human in other media (like comics and cartoons). mcu steve is... nothing. he's just a walking propaganda for hypermasculinity.

[asherthephoenix]

Coderra real! ... It's not as fun when the ship is actually canon.

Hoo boy time to share my long ass hc again

So right at the beginning of ROTI we see Sierra hugging Cody tightly right? Sierra also mentions during AS that she uses her phone to contact Cody and the reason she started having hallucinations is because Mal broke her phone and she no longer had a way to reach him. Wether some people like it or not, this proves that Sierra and Cody remained in contact during the ~year and a few months in between WT and AS. I hc that they’re both from Mississauga, just opposite sides of it, so with only a ~45 min drive between them they had no issues seeing eachother after the show ended & hung out super regularly after WT. Sierra def calmed down a bit overtime and as he actually got to know her as friend and not just “weirdo who harasses me nonstop” Cody just ended up liking her more and more. He had plans to ask her out, but then she got called back for All Stars while he didn’t and didn’t get the chance. He watched the season and was rightfully horrified at Sierra’s behavior, but realized that Sierra’s biggest problem was that she was attached to him to an unhealthy degree and clearly there was something wrong for her mentally. We know from his contestant bio Cody is rich af and gets a huge allowance, so when she returned home from AS Cody put his foot down and said he was going to enroll her in therapy to help her get better and she agreed that was probably a good idea. Therapy not only helped sierra find out she was severely autistic but also taught her important strategies and coping mechanisms for her childhood trauma that led her to being the way she is (I have a whole separate hc about that if anyone wants to know) and overtime actually did make significant improvements. She still loves Cody more than anything else, but she learned the importance of, yk, realizing he has boundaries that she needs to respect. Around 1.5-2ish years after she started therapy Cody determined she made enough improvements and asked her out, and given they were both dedicated to putting in the work to make the relationship healthy it lasted & at the time of the reboot they are married with 3 children.

Being realistic, gen 1 is probably never coming back to total drama outside of cameos; I can certainly see them doing another speaking cameo with some of the more popular characters like what they did with Owen if the reboot ever gets a third season but I’m very doubtful we’re ever gonna see sierra or Cody again and if we do it’s gonna be a like, split second cameo. In the hypothetical scenario that Cody and sierra were to both come back for another season, I really wouldn’t want coderra to become canon unless they at least mention sierra being enrolled in some kind of counseling AND she never does anything shitty to Cody at all during their seasons run. Making Coderra canon without Sierra being called out for her problematic actions doesn’t exactly send the best message.

I do plan on tagging this with the TD tags and stuff so for anyone seeing this who doesn’t already know me, DNI if you can’t respect the fact that I ship fanon coderra, thanks

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - Epilogue | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: This isn't the end, rather it is just the beginning of the rest of your life.

Notes: All right everyone, this is it. I can't believe this story is over, I am so happy I took the plunge and started to post online. This experience has been wonderful and you all have been amazing. Thank you to everyone who commented, liked or reblogged this story you guys helped me so much when I thought about giving up. If ever anyone wants more content from this universe I'd be more than happy to answer any prompts or asks. Now I am unto my Joel Miller x reader fic, I know a bunch of you want to be tagged and I am working on figuring out how :D

Hope you all enjoy this last chapter and in the meantime, take care of yourselves and I love you all very much xoxox

Family

"Here you go, a large sparkling water with three slices of lemon. You know I would've made a lemonade if you wanted; it would probably taste better than that stuff. Smells sour as hell." Will puts the large glass on the small table next to the pool lounge chair. You smile over your sunglasses.

"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it," you express with gratitude. "Lemonade is just too sweet, these days only something that packs a good sour punch can even begin to curb my cravings. I think that if I send Frankie on another midnight hunt for Warheads, he might just end up moving back in with Alma," you add playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you speak, you pluck one of the large lemon slices off the glass and eagerly sink your teeth into the tangy, bitter flesh, savouring the burst of sour flavour hitting your tongue.

Will scrunches his nose. "Fish told me he saw you put a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids in your vanilla milkshake last week. Anything else we gotta be worried about, except for major heartburns and fried taste buds?" Will teases. You playfully put one of your hands on your taut round stomach. "Gotta keep the little one happy, and he insists that a milkshake with Sour Patch Kids is the breakfast of champions." Will smiles, trying to hide his amusement. "Hope you're still getting all of your food groups, though." You roll your eyes in jest. "My goodness, you're worse than Frankie. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing." Will raises his hands in surrender. "My apologies didn't mean to offend. I know you know what you're doing. I just want to make sure you're all right.” A pause, as pregnant as you are, emerges “Are you alright?"

A giddy smile makes its way to your face. "Better than ever. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Will. I am thriving," you exclaim as you shimmy your shoulders in a little up-and-down dance. Will softens at your little display. "I am glad, then. You know I am always there if you need anything, right?" "I know, Will. And thank you." You hum in response before a comfortable silence opens between you two as Will looks over to where his brother is trying his best to not burn the burgers under Pope’s disapproving glare.

You gasp as you feel your baby start kicking you as if there's a goddamn karate class going on near your ribcage. You hold your breath for a second, feeling the rhythmic movements, before the kicking recedes. You lovingly place your hand on your stomach, feeling the gentle flutter within. "Are you okay? Is anything hurting? Do I need to get Fish?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.

You let out a joyful laugh. "No, no, don't worry, it's all right. Don't bother Frankie; he seems very focused on his task at hand." With a playful gesture, you wave your hand in Frankie's direction, where he's holding a not-so-little Ella just above the water, teaching her the proper way to kick her small pudgy legs to stay afloat. Despite being just over 3 years old, Ella is more interested in gleefully splashing her papa with water kicks than learning any of the supposed swimming techniques. Frankie, however, looks absolutely delighted, and after a particularly vigorous splash to his face, he playfully plunges Ella with him underwater. When they resurface, Ella is screeching with excitement, her tiny fists reaching out to grab her father.

Both you and Will can't help but laugh at the adorable display, shaking your heads with fondness. You return your attention to your growing bump and softly caress it. "When I was pregnant with Ella, she was the calmest little baby around. It all changed when she was born; then she turned into a little tornado," you reminisce, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I hope that since this little one enjoys using my bladder as his personal trampoline and keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, it means he'll be a little ray of sunshine after he is born."

You feel another kick, causing you to huff in response. Your eyes shift to Will, who looks amazed by your side, and you can't help but smile. "You want to feel it?" you ask, noticing Will's uncertainty and the hesitation in his eyes. "Come on, I'm sure he's excited to meet his uncle." Seeing him struggle a bit more, you take matters into your own hands, guiding one of Will's hands decisively to your round, 6-month bump.

You both wait with bated breath, but it's not long before your little karate champion makes himself known. "Woah, that's insane! Does it hurt a lot?" "It's uncomfortable, but nothing that I can't handle." Honestly, you love how rambunctious your little baby boy is. Since you started feeling him, some of your best memories were you sitting on the couch with Frankie's hand sprawled over your taut stomach and Ella sitting in your lap, talking to her soon-to-be baby brother.

"It's been great, magical really. Couldn't ask for anything better." You gulp the last of your sparkling water and suck another lemon slice into your mouth while Will shakes his head affectionately. "I am glad to hear it. We were all a bit worried when you two announced this new baby. I guess we were a bit scared Frankie was going to fall back into... old destructive habits. But I guess we were worried for nothing." Will gulps from his beer, while you munch on your slice of sour heaven.

"I was worried too, don't get me wrong," you admit, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "Those first few weeks, I was so afraid Will. Couldn’t keep my eyes from Frankie, I hovered like one of his helicopters, like I already condemned him you know. God, I could barely sleep. But now, looking back, I realize that we were all worried for nothing."

You pause for a moment, a sense of pride evident in your words. "It's going to be three years in two months, you know. Three years of sobriety." A spark of excitement lights up your eyes as you share your plans. "I'm planning a pretty big party to celebrate, so you and Ben better clear your schedules for late May," you say playfully, wagging your finger in front of Will's face, reminiscent of a mom giving orders to her child. Will responds with a smile, placing his hand over his heart in a salute stance. "Roger that," he affirms seriously.

You smile, relishing in the tranquillity of the moment, before feeling a pair of wet arms envelop you from behind. An equally wet torso presses against your back, and you can't help but let out a playful screech as you try to wiggle your way out of the tight embrace. Your legs flail in the air as Frankie's nose nuzzles against your neck, eliciting a tickling sensation, and his hands dance across your side. You laugh so hard that tears fall down your eyes, while Will is laughing even harder at your predicament.

"Stop it, Frankie! You're getting me all wet!" You can feel Frankie's smile turn devious against your neck as he hikes up toward your ears and whispers low enough so that Will wouldn't hear. "That's not what you were saying last night when I was getting you wet. You were a bit louder, screaming my name for 'More, more, Frankie!'" He finishes his sentence in a shrill tone, a poor imitation of your voice. You swat him, feeling heat rushing to your body.

Will looks at both of you with a knowing smile before teasing you more. "You look overheated. Maybe you should lie down for a bit." "Shut up, Miller," you grumble. "I can't believe you two are ganging up on me!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry, mi cielo," Frankie begins, attempting to untangle his arms from your side, but you swiftly grab hold of him, keeping his arms right where they were. "Don't you dare, Morales," you assert, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Frankie responds with an affectionate eye roll, nudging your side in response. "Let me tell you, Will, pregnancy makes them hard to follow," he remarks, attempting to defend himself. You let out a displeased huff, not fully convinced. "Don't talk as if all women are a monolith," you retort.

"Sorry, you are right, mi cielo," Frankie says reverently, acknowledging your point. However, a mischievous glimmer dances in his eyes as he turns to face Will. "Pregnancy makes this one hard to follow," he playfully adds, eliciting laughter from all three of you. You let your head fall back onto Frankie's firm torso, playfully nipping at his jaw. "You shouldn't be mean to me. You know it's your baby who's been using me as his private target practice," you retort with a hint of mock indignation.

Frankie's expression softens as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. "You are right. Will my beautiful pregnant wife forgive me?" You respond with an exaggerated haughty tone, pretending to consider his plea. "Maybe, what do I get if I grant you leniency?"

"We could stop by Sonic after the BBQ, grab..." "Milkshake and Sour Patch Kids?!" You screech. "Forgiven, completely forgiven!" You exclaim excitedly. You hear Will laugh in front of you. "You two are a sight to see, making me believe in love and all that jazz." "What can I say? You won’t find a woman like my beautiful wife on every street corner. I gotta make sure that she is as happy as possible. Can't lose her, so if that means that everything in the house tastes like lemon or acid mouthwash, then so be it."

"Where is our little tornado?" you crane your neck trying to check your surrounding as you realize that Frankie came to see you alone. Frankie points back to the pool where she is getting thrown around by an overexcited Benny. It was a hard process to get Benny and Frankie's relationship back to what it used to be. Both men bruised, Frankie believing that Benny wanted to replace him in your and Ella's life, and Benny angry that Frankie would think so low of him.

It was only after you and Will had conspired to lock them in the Miller's basement for an entire day that things had begun to repair themselves. When you had come back with Will and opened the door, you had seen the two men sitting down, their backs against the hard concrete walls, and a bunch of beers littering the unfinished floor. You had scrunched up your nose, put your hands on your hips, and spoke in the same tone you used when Ella was misbehaving. "Are you two ready to get along, or do we need to lock you in overnight?" Will had stood behind you like a bouncer, ready to throw hands if necessary.

But in the end, both men had simply laughed and, clearly drunk, had held onto each other as they scrambled to their feet. The sight would have been rather pathetic if it wasn't for the laughter the two men were sharing. They assured you that they were the best of friends again before launching into a long-winded explanation, cutting each other off with "You know I would die for you, Ben" and "Nothing compares to you, Fish. You are the best man ever." All in all, it was a good result, one that you and Will were satisfied with. You had let the two men leave after getting them to promise that they would start getting along again, which led to another rant on promises, brotherhood, and love. So yeah, satisfied.

Now it was as if all those awkward months between the two men had never existed, and their bond was stronger than ever. Frankie didn't feel insecure that Benny was Ella's favourite uncle (although that changed every day and highly depended on who brought the biggest gift or the sweetest treat—today it was Benny with the new rendition of "Mermaid Barbie"). And Benny was just happy to be a part of your extended family of six.

Frankie tenderly strokes your belly, his touch filled with love and gratitude, before locking eyes with you. In that silent exchange, you offer him an encouraging nudge with your shoulder, urging him to speak his mind. Frankie coughs, trying to mask his nervousness, before finally gathering his words. "Actually, Will, there's something we wanted to ask you," he begins. Will nods, signalling for Frankie to continue. "You know how challenging these past couple of years have been, overcoming my struggles with drugs and everything. But through it all, you've been there for me. You've helped me immensely with the court case, my sobriety, and supporting the girls. I feel incredibly fortunate to have you as my brother, Will."

Touched by Frankie's words, Will's expression softens, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. "Fish, we're family. I'd move mountains to help you, and your work at the VA has been remarkable. The conferences you lead on addiction and recovery for veterans are making a real difference. I should be thanking you.” A tinge of embarrassment colours Frankie's cheeks, his friend's compliment catching him off guard. Ever since Frankie achieved sobriety and regained his piloting license, Will arranged for him to lead weekly conferences at the VA. Frankie would meet with a group and talk about his experience, the importance of speaking up and opening up, the importance of seeking help, and how it wasn't a failure to help yourself and be there for those you love. Frankie had flourished in this role, finding purpose and fulfillment.

"But really," Frankie continues, breaking through his momentary bashfulness, "I wouldn't be where I am today if you hadn't paved the way for me at the VA. For that, and for everything else, we want you to play a significant role in little Javi's life.”

Will frowns in incomprehension. "Well, I intended to be a part of Javi's life. You don't have to ask so formally." Will teases, while Frankie shakes his head. You come to the rescue, placing a comforting hand atop your husband's, resting on your growing belly.

“What Frankie is trying to ask, Will, is if you would consider becoming Javi's godfather." Will's eyes widen in surprise as if the notion is beyond his wildest expectations. "Me?! Godfather?! Shouldn't you be asking the Pope for something like that!?”

Frankie shakes his head, rejecting the suggestion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't be stupid, ironhead," he retorts. "Pope’s head is big enough as it is being Ella's godfather. And I don't want to inflate his ego any further. Besides, there's no one I'd rather have as my boy's godfather than you."

You see Will soften as tears well up in his eyes. "Thank you, Fish. That means... It means the world to hear that," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to live up to what you expect of me." You can't help but let out a playful snort, knowing all too well that his formal tone is a feeble attempt to conceal the depth of his feelings. Behind that stoic facade, Will is a big softie, and right now he is on the verge of dissolving into a puddle of tears.

Will clears his throat once again, and you notice tears glistening in the tall blond man's eyes. "I... Thank you, Fish... I... I have to tell Ben!" Will scrambles to his feet and exclaims loudly, "Ben, guess who's going to be the godfather!!!" The response is a shocked "WHAT?!" as you spot Ella attempting to use Benny's head as a trampoline. A snort escapes you as you relax against your husband's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. With your husband's strong presence behind you, your daughter happily playing with her uncles, and your baby boy safe and snug in your belly, you softly whisper, "I don't think it can get any better than this."

Frankie's gentle humming resonates behind you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your growing belly. You turn your head, a quizzical expression lighting up your features as you meet his gaze. A warm smile graces Frankie's lips before he leans in to plant a soft, tender kiss on yours.

"I wouldn't know," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. "Every day I spend with you is more wonderful than the last, mi cielo. I can only imagine how tomorrow will surpass even today." His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep feeling of being cherished and adored. One you only feel with Frankie.

You shift your body, the weight of your burgeoning belly making it a slight challenge, until you face Frankie, perched securely on his strong, muscular thighs. He holds you close, ensuring you won't slip, his touch providing both comfort and desire. You love how Frankie can make you feel safe and excited at the same time in an overpowering cocktail of desire and want. You press your lips against his, murmuring against his plump ones, "You have such a way with words, Mr. Morales, and I love you deeply." Frankie's smile blooms against your mouth, his affectionate gaze locked on yours.

"I also know how insatiable you've been lately, Mrs. Morales," he playfully remarks, allowing one hand to wander downwards, firmly grasping a handful of your soft, supple ass. He kneads and squeezes the plushness, igniting a delicious tingling sensation throughout your body. You tease him in response, slowly grinding against him, making sure that no one is looking at the pair of you.

"Ah, but I don't think I'm the only insatiable one here, my love," you whisper mischievously as you feel a bulge growing in Frankie’s swimming trunk. Frankie's breath catches in his throat. "Of course, how could I be anything but insatiable when my wife is out here looking like a goddamn dream." You roll your eyes. "Please, my belly is the size of a basketball, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have disappeared with how swollen they are." Frankie starts kissing your face all over, punctuating each kiss with an endearing word: "Beautiful. My. Beautiful. Girl. Never want anyone else." You feel yourself melt against him.

"OI!" Both you and Frankie turn your heads where Benny stands in the shallow end of the pool, Ella perched on his shoulder, her little hands covering her eyes. Benny's exasperated tone fills the air. "Can you save that for the bedroom, you animals? There are children around!”

"Pendejo," Frankie whispers under his breath, while you try to wiggle out of his grip and gather yourself in a more presentable position. But Frankie holds you where you are. "It's high time you find yourself a girlfriend if you need to get your rocks off looking at my wife and me!" Frankie screams back.

Benny gets all red and huffy, and you can hear some expletives being thrown your way. "Goddamn idiots... acting like high school kids... no shame... A girlfriend?! Idiots." In response, Ella swats him hard on the head where she is still resting and screeches, "LANGUAGE! Mama, 'cle BenBen said a no-no vord!" You smile. "Indeed he did, Estrelita. Looks like Uncle BenBen needs a little punishment!" Ella erupts into laughter, thoroughly amused by the prospect, while Benny's expression betrays a mix of fear and unsureness as Ella proceeds to sway back and forth on his shoulder screaming loudly about the bad language.

"You think we should rescue him?" Frankie asks. You consider the situation before responding with a noncommittal tone, "Nah, he's a big boy, he'll be fine.”

Frankie looks pensive for a second "Do you ever regret it?" he asks, his tone laced with vulnerability.

"Regret what?" you reply, genuinely puzzled by his inquiry.

Frankie's frown deepens, and he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts. "Taking me back. Starting again. No one would have blamed you if you had chosen to leave,” Frankie, for all the work he has been doing for the past three years, for all the individual and couple therapy he has attended, still sometimes feels like a scared little boy, yearning to be good enough for those he loves.

A soft smile graces your face as you gently stroke his cheek, your touch filled with reassurance. You guide his hands to rest on your taut stomach, emphasizing the life growing within. "There is no one I would rather be with than you, my love," you say tenderly. "Nowhere I would rather be than in your arms. You are everything to me—always have been and always will be.”

As Frankie's tears flow freely, his emotions cascading over him, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, seeking your warm solace and quiet reassurance that he is enough, that he is loved. Frankie’s voice quivers as he whispers, "I love you so much, Mi Cielo. Thank you for everything you have given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” A tender silence wraps around you both, allowing space for the weight of his words to settle between you. Frankie's murmurs against your collarbone provide comfort, his soft words acting as a balm to your souls. After a minute, Frankie's voice gently resurfaces. "The road ahead looks rather bright," he begins, his tone soft yet resolute, "and I can't wait to keep walking it with you."

Your smile widens, illuminating your face with pure joy as you savour the sweetness of Frankie's words. The road ahead does shine brightly, you think, as you tenderly place a kiss on Frankie's lips. And no matter how stormy it may become, as storms are inevitable on any journey, you are certain that you wouldn't walk it with anyone else by your side but your beloved Frankie. Like the sun and the sky, you are forever intertwined, destined to navigate the highs and lows together, casting light on each other's path.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie and as you feel another kick from your baby boy and feel Frankie screeches excitedly and he start talking to baby Javi (well to your belly) in quick Spanish, praising the to be born baby. And as you spot baby Ella trying her best to run after Will and Benny while Pope eggs her on you thnk back to when she could barely crawl around. Your hands join Frankie and you feel your heart swell with love and happiness, yes this is all that you’ve ever wanted.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie. As you feel another kick from your baby boy and hear Frankie's excited cheer, expressing his love and admiration, you can't help but smile. He speaks to baby Javi in Spanish, filled with warmth and anticipation, knowing that your family will soon be complete.

 Across the yard, you spot Ella as she playfully chases after Uncle Will and Benny. Surrounded by the warmth of your found family, you feel a deep sense of contentment. This is everything you've ever wanted—the love between you and Frankie, the growth and happiness of your children both here and yet to be born, the bonds of friendship that only strengthen over time. Holding Frankie's hand, you know that together you will continue to build a life filled with love, support, and countless moments of joy. This is the life you've always dreamed of, and it fills your heart to the brim with love. The road ahead is bright indeed.

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 22 | Chapter 24

Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂 TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :) Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD

Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne

The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.

As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”

So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.

“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”

Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.

She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”

Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”

“Worth it.”

As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.

Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.

He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”

Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”

“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”

“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”

The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.

My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.

“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“It doesn't matter,” she responded.

“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”

“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”

“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”

Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”

Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”

“I can call in,” I offered.

“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”

She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”

Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”

Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”

“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”

“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.

The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”

“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.

“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”

Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

“What was that about?”

“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”

I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”

Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”

“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”

He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”

“It's not a big deal,” I replied.

“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”

“I have no clue what you're talking about.”

Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”

“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.

“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”

With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”

Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”

“Maybe…” 

Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”

“No.”

Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”

I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”

“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”

“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”

“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”

Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.

*

Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”

Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”

Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”

“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”

“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”

“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”

“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”

“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”

Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”

“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”

With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”

Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”

“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.

It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.

“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”

Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight. 

Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”

*

22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.

Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”

“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”

“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“How was moving your couch in?”

Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”

He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”

Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”

“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.

“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”

With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”

Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”

“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”

“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”

Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”

Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”

Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”

The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing. 

It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.

My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.

Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.

She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.

The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.

“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”

He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”

The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning. 

My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”

“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”

“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.

He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.

The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”

I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”

“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”

“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”

“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”

“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”

I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”

He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”

Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”

With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.

Click.

Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Bang.

My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”

I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”

“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”

Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”

I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”

“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.

Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”

Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.

Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.

*

Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach. 

Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone

When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.

He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”

Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena. 

The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color. 

Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”

“Fuck off Sasha!”

With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”

“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”

With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”

Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”

“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.

Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”

As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.

*

I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.

“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.

“Keep moving.”

“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”

“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”

I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.

“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”

“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”

I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”

“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”

A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”

“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”

In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”

Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”

There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.

Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”

“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.

Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”

“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”

“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”

“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.

Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”

I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”

Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.” 

Jake.

Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

I nodded.

“Can you feel my breaths?”

I nodded again. 

“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”

I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.

Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”

Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”

“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”

“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.

“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”

If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”

While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.

“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”

Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.

This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.

I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”

Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”

“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”

“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.

“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.

Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”

“Then what happened?”

Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”

“Which painting?”

“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”

“Lena you-”

“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”

Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”

As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”

He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”

“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”

I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”

What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”

“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”

“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “

“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”

I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”

Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't. 

I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.

After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”

“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.

“Go on,” I urged.

Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.

“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”

I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”

“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.

“For what?”

“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”

His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”

“Let's get drunk tonight.”

With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”

“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”

I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”

*

Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.

At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.

Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on. 

So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.

After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”

“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.

He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face. 

“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.

He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”

“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a real charmer.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”

“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”

“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”

With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”

“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”

“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.

It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.

She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.

He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”

“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”

Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”

He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”

They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”

“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.

*

I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.

Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.

Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”

He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”

“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”

“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”

“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”

Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”

With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”

In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.

I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”

Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”

“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.

“You'd what?”

Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”

“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”

“Definitely,” he whispered.

I smirked. “How do you know?”

Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”

“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”

“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”

“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”

He chuckled. “Raincheck.”

“We can still make out though, right?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.

It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”

With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”

He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.

As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”

He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”

“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”

“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.

Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”

She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”

“Quinn-”

“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”

Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”

“Yeah, he is.”

*

Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”

“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”

“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”

Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”

“It is fairly simple.�� Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”

“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”

Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”

With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”

“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back. 

“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”

Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”

“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.

With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”

“How do you mean?”

“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”

My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home. 

Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.

“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”

He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”

I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”

“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”

After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”

Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”

“Fine.”

I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”

He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.

“No, I don't think so.”

I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”

Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.

A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.

*

The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.

Why does this make you feel so afraid? 

His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.

They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”

She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”

He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.

“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.

“What?”

“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”

“I'm not gonna do that.”

“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”

“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.

“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”

“Jake…”

Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”

Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”

Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”

“See ya, jerk.”

Tonight was gonna be fun.

*

“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”

He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”

Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.

I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”

“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”

“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses. 

He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”

“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”

“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”

Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”

“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”

The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”

“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”

“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.

“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.

Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”

The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”

“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.

My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”

“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.

That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”

“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”

He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”

I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”

“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”

Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”

Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”

“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.

Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.

“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.

“Where are you?”

“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”

“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”

She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”

“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”

“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”

“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”

With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”

Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”

“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”

“Sounds good, thank you!”

“Det-”

“Details as payment, I know Q.”

Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.

We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.

Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.

Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes. 

Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”

Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.

The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”

“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”

With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”

Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”

“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”

Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”

“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.

“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”

I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”

She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”

“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.

“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”

“I don't get to try anything else on?”

“Nope!”

With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”

“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.

Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.

I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake. 

Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.

Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”

“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”

“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”

“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”

Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.

*

Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.

Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.

He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.

By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?

Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”

Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”

Asshole it is I guess.

Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”

“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”

As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”

“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection. 

Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.

So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”

“I trust your taste in drinks.”

“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”

Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”

Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”

“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.

What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”

*

My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.

“I think you look perfect.”

Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.

Jake thought I looked perfect.

“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume?  “Ghostbusters?”

“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.

Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”

With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”

I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”

“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”

Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”

“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”

“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”

I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”

He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”

“Hardly!” I argued - lied.

Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”

His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”

“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”

Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”

He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.

The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”

I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”

“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”

Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”

“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”

“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”

I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.

The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”

Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.

I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.

I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”

The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”

“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”

It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”

I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”

He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”

“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”

Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”

“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.

Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”

DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”

“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.

“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”

“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.

“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”

He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”

Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”

It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.

"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.

“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk. 

"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.

"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.

Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.

I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."

He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."

I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.

Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.

This was it.

I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."

"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.

"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."

With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."

“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”

Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.

His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same. 

I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”

Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”

Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.

To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.

“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”

His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”

His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”

The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”

Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”

Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”

I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”

“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”

My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”

His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”

I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”

Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”

I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”

“Absolutely.”

Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”

The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.

Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”

“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”

Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.

When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”

“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”

Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”

Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”

“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.

“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.

“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”

More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”

“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”

“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”

“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.

“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”

That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.

My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”

Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?

Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”

“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”

Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”

It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.

*

Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop. 

His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."

"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin��� wrong."

Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."

"You're the worst."

She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"

Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."

"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."

His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."

She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"

Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."

When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop. 

Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"

"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”

Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”

Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”

“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.

Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”

“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”

Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”

“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”

“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”

It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.

There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”

She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”

“I could never say no to you.”

“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”

Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”

Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”

“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”

Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”

With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”

“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly. 

Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”

“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

[astarionposting]

Hi, I just want to say that your work is stunning and we're very thankful for it! I also hope that nobody is causing you problems about liking that other route...It's ludicrous that people still act like children when it comes to what others enjoy, not to mention that if you show them two pictures of Astarion they won't even be able to tell which one is the 'bad' route and which one is the 'good' one.

Other than that, I wish you a very nice day!

Thank you so much! 🥹🥹 I’m so so happy you enjoy my content.

Thankfully no one has caused me any issues with Ascended Astarion stuff haha. I guess because I do acknowledge he is 100% evil if he ascends, but SOMETIMES I LIKE ME AN EVIL MAN!! I enjoy both routes and think they are both super fun to play.

I love Spawn Astarion for him being able to overcome his fears, open up, heal and become “better” (but still pretty cheeky and wanting to create as much chaos as possible) and end the cycle of abuse, which is very personal to me as well in my own trauma. I love that he is able to overcome what I would consider an unhealthy coping mechanism to his fear; he is scared, so his reaction is to obtain as much power over everyone else so no one can ever hurt him again, but then he would lose himself in the process… and his SO if you decide not to become his spawn. I mean, he pretty much becomes his BIGGEST fear, his own source of 200 years of trauma and abuse (“the new cazador”—just like Cazador did since he was also a spawn and killed his own master for power out of fear—if I’m remembering correctly).

BUT I also like the Ascended Astarion route for how tragic it is. How you can really see right through him and how he ISN’T satisfied. He gets so angry with you if you even point it out a little bit, that sacrificing all of those souls, including his own in a way, didn’t fix anything. He’s still so insecure. He is still afraid (he’s just much more aggressive and defensive about it). He is still unhappy and he will never actually be free. I mean, it’s a deal with MEPHISTOPHELES. He might have been freed from one master, but now he owes his power to another, much more dangerous and powerful being. Not only that, but he will never be free from himself. If you listen to Cazador’s inner thoughts, you can hear how much he WANTS to die, how much he HATES being a soulless and vile vampire with only a lust for blood. No capability to love, to care, to be any part of who he might’ve been before.

The song “hurt” by NIN makes me think of Ascended Astarion. He says “we can have it all, we can take the world”. But what is “having it all?”. “Having it all” to me would be the Spawn ending. Being free of his abuser, being free of owing his power to someone else, being able to be HIMSELF and surrounded by people who care about him because of who he is, not because of his power.

Anyways I’m not that great at writing my thoughts coherently so I’ll stop there lol, but I also like his voice lines cause they can be kind of hot because also kind of goofy 😭 😭 and it’s fiction!! I read the wildest fanfic out there but if an actual man spoke to me that way, I would be OUT OF THERE SOOOO FAST lol

I don’t like to call them the “bad” or “good” ending, because it’s different for everyone. I mean, it’s a ROLEPLAYING GAME. Yeah, if your Tav/Durge is good alignment, then the spawn ending may seem to be the “good” one, but if your Tav/Durge is evil then wouldn’t the vampire ascendent ending technically be “good” for them? Anyways, I just think people struggle to separate reality from fiction when they get too deep into it. I love soft-ish and cheeky vampire and also evil and hot vampire like WE CAN ENJOY BOTH!!!

Anyways, thank you so much again and I hope you also have a wonderful day!! ❤️

[ener-chi]

Feeling pushed to make a life update so here we go! TL;DR my Path, and fun school stuff - Taiji, Tuina, etc.

Hmm where to start. This program has changed me so much. Due to everything I have to deal with and go through, I feel like all of my unhealthy coping mechanisms and behaviors came to the surface and ended up being changed into something different and healthier. I mean, they kind of had to be - otherwise I wouldn't be able to handle the program.

But... this is kind of what I've been working on lately, and is pretty recent. I've realized that... I have been running. From myself, and also my Path.

I was running from my Trauma, but also parts of myself that I didn't like. But also... I was running from my Spiritual Path. My Path started to change about 2 years ago. It began to get... bigger, broader scope, more responsibility... I realized recently that I got scared, because I knew that following it would result in me changing big time, and I don't think I was ready for that at that time.

But. You can't run forever lol. I've been doing a lot of work, and I think I am finally ready to accept my Path and get back into my Practice. I've been getting a bunch of upgrades, been working with Reiki ALOT. Also... my gifts have been coming back (I've been kind of suppressing them) and that's been super interesting. I feel like I have soo much to learn, and I get to relearn how to do things, too.

In other news - cool school stuff!!

First, Taiji. The teacher I have is INCREDIBLE. He's an older Chinese man, and he is legitimately like a master you would see in movies. I have learned a form of Taiji before, but what he teaches is WILD.

Like we haventeven learned any form or anything - all we've really been doing is learning how to stand properly in two different stances and shift our weight around. But the Qi fucking MOVES. Sooo much. Like during it my whole body shakes as it's releasing blockages, and throughout the week I like have had a ton of emotional stuff come up. I definitely think that it's been contributing to the change I've been going through, for sure.

I mean we get energy blockages in our channels, and we can have big emotions and stress stored there or in our muscles. When you break up those blockages, those things get released. It's very cool to see it happen in myself.

HmmMMM I've been learning some Tuina - which translates to basically Chinese Medical Massage. It's a massage modality, but it serves a medical purpose, and can be used to treat most things, even like cold or flu. BUT where it excels is in orthopedic problems and pain.

Like our teacher - who is incredible, btw, and got his degree in China, and was the first person to have a doctor's degree in TCM in the USA - he has been showing us so many stories and case studies of people that have had near debilitating pain for years, sometimes 10 or 20, and no surgery or anything can make it better, but after about 10 sessions of Tuina, they walk away pain-free.

Absolutely mind-bending stuff. I honestly genuinely am going to recommend anyone in my life to try Tuina before considering getting big orthopedic surgeries. It's crazy.

Hmm what else. I mean I have just been learning so much stuff lol. Like Chinese Medicine can help accelerate the growth and healing of bones after a break, and can also help treat it even years after it happened. Or like how most heart attacks take place around noon and in the summer, and why that is. Just so much cool stuff!

Anywho. That's probably it for now. Gotta rest up and get back to my studies 😵

Hope everyone has a good day!

Blessings!

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

A new work, A auditor of the gods trials by a_library_of_old, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters complete! It has a rating Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort"

You can read it here:

The idea that god auditors have to kill their predecessor to get the job is super interesting; it also gives the poor bug boy extra trauma </3. So unfair that he had to kill his mentor, but the next auditor doesn't have to kill him/lh. He'd better get so much comfort next chapter or else >:[/j/lh.

Alone Inside, by ackletze, was updated today, with 3/? Chapters released! It has a rating Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Roommates, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication"

You can read it here:

They are so bad at talking to each other/pos. Scarab is so scared to be even somewhat vulnerable around Prismo, and Prismo has his own things going on, so he doesn't even notice, and they're both being so DUMB <333333333 They have at least somewhat apologised to each other in the most round-about way possible/lh.

El caballero y el mago, by DULname, was updated today, with 4/? Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with no additional tags!

You can read it here:

They found each other again !! Prismo letting Scarab drag him away even though he had no idea who he was, was so funny to me. King you are magic just teleport away/lh. AND THEN THEY HAD A NICE TENDER MOMENT EVEN THOUGH IT CAME FROM PRISMO CUTTING SCARAB'S FACE WITH A DAGGER <3333333 I LOVE TO SEE IT.

Killing Butterflies, by othersin, was updated today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, with additional tags "Trauma, a job you would die for, LITERALLY, a concept that there can be only one god auditor, the job is pretty powerful, it is not established if there was other god auditor's, or even wishmasters, ProhibitedWish, Alternate Universe, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, it is a arena like battle, Abuse of Authority, Lost Love, Unrequited Love, Ultimate Sacrifice, Therapy"

You can read it here:

FINALLY, the little bug man is getting some THERAPY/lh/j. He's still too traumatised to be able to talk about it with her, though :[. My poor bug boy </3. Scarab's dreamscape is also super cool; he turned Prismo into a MOTH!!!! HE IS A MOTH IT FITS SO WELL <3.

Seraphyllic, by DrakianDH, was updated today, with 8/15 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Graphic Depictions of Violence, and Major Character Death, with the additional tags "scarab the god auditor - Freeform, prismo the wishmaster - Freeform, Priscrab, ProhibitedWish, Scrabby, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we get turned to legos like the lich, Adventure & Romance, Story within a Story, Eventual Happy Ending, Maybe - Freeform, Author Is Sleep Deprived, The Author Regrets Nothing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, You gotta work for the comfort, begining poem important, each chapter a word, prepare"

You can read it here:

VK and Prism time is my favourite time :]. I got so invested in this part that I actually forgot this is a work for Scarab and Prismo/pos. The Lich reference made me go :O. I have the sneaking suspicion that Prismo is using hurt and angst as an excuse to get Scarab to make something with him, and I, for one, am in full support>:]c.

Silly Bug, by TJade, was updated today, with 7/? Chapters released! It has a rating Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Genderbending, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suggestive Themes, Awkwardness, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Conversations, Communication, Healthy Relationships, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Threesome, Frottage"

You can read it here:

I've moved Silly Bug out of the NSFW Zone since we are back to regular domestic stuff, but if anyone wants me to move it back I will :]. BUT NOW IT'S SPOOKY TIME ! Priscilla dressing up as Nightmo made me go >:}< and Cara's reaction makes me excited for when we go back to spooky chapters.

A new work, The Ghostwriter by Irina_94, was published today, with 1/? Chapters released! It has a rating Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Alternate Universe - Human, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Prismo needs a huge, References to Depression"

You can read it here:

AROACE SCARAB YES YES YES YES YES !!!! THIS WORK MIGHT BECOME MY FAVOURITE FROM THAT ALONE :]. The writing is so relatable in this one and SIMON IS THERE TOO !!!! I love this one so much already, I'm so excited for the next chapters :].

A new work, Ye Ol’ Medieval times did not have Steampunk by othersin, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating Mature and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "prismo is thirsting after the beetle boy, AU, Human AU, inspired by art I have seen of the human versions on tumblr, Corsetry, Steampunk, Third Wheel, Cute, Romance, Fluff, ProhibitedWish, slight hyperfixation on the corset vests i have seen, Why do i fixate on characters in suits, also why do i get the characters partners get really excited at seeing them in suits!?"

You can read it here:

Okay but Scarab is perfect for steampunk/pos. He could definitely pull off the 'dignified Englishman timetraveller look,' he is the most not-British British man i have ever seen in my life/j. Poor Cos having to third wheel, but the Orgalorg reference made me more excited than it should've/lh.

NSFW works are below the cut :].

A new work, caught in his web by sparklinggrapesoda, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating Explicit and Rape/Non-Con, with the additional tags "Extremely Dubious Consent, Fear Play, Size Difference, Rough Sex, Biting, Scratching, Demon Sex, Demon/Human Relationships, Tongue Fucking, Deepthroating, Creampie, excessive cum, Fear Boner, Guilt, Nightmo, Alternate Universe - Human, Wild West AU, Cowboys, big dick"

You can read it here:

COWBOY AU IS BACK LET'S GO !!!!!!! My rage towards Nightmo grows stronger with each passing second/lh.

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Was randomly in the mood to read a Tadashi Lives/Hiro Dies au for BH6, but then I remembered that I was never able to find a good one bc all of the fics were just boring remixes or even outright retellings of the movie's plot with Tadashi in Hiro's role. So since I'm in the mood for outlining and also super bored here's my vision of what a good "Hiro dies instead of Tadashi AU" would look like:

(this is split into acts bc apparently Tumblr has a character limit and this got unspeakably long lol)

Act One

A little before the fire starts, Hiro runs back into the school for whatever reason and is in the building when it explodes. Obviously he doesn't make it and of course Tadashi is completely devastated.

Most fics I read showed Tadashi falling into a depressive funk the way Hiro did in canon. I actually think he would react the opposite way: Hiro was so brilliant that he lost motivation easily bc it was so hard to seriously challenge himself, but Tadashi strikes me as the sort of person who needs to Do Something when things go to shit. So in this AU he becomes a workaholic, working on a brand new project that requires a LOT of time and effort.

Tadashi's new project is an "emergency bot" (aka EB-1) that is basically a more proactive version of Baymax centered around search and rescue. EB-1 will be capable of saving people from car accidents, natural disasters, and yes, fires. Tadashi is obsessed with completing it and forgoes everything else.

Unfortunately Baymax is pushed to the wayside by Tadashi, as just looking at him brings up memories of Hiro that are currently painful. A small running gag is that Baymax keeps inflating when he senses Tadashi being self-destructive (ie every ten minutes) and Tadashi keeps shutting him down, until finally Tadashi brings him back to Cass's place and leaves him there.

Tadashi's friends are more heavily involved this time around since this is one of their best friends. They do everything in their power to make him take care of himself, but he's heavily resisting because he is Going Through It and refuses to relinquish his unhealthy coping mechanisms.

A couple of weeks after Hiro's death, Tadashi is snooping around town in search of a good place to field test the EB-1, and he happens upon the warehouse that's hosting Callighan's microbot making operation. Tadashi accidentally tips off Kabuki Man while getting some pictures and barely escapes Kabuki Man's clutches.

Furious that someone has apparently stolen his little brother's tech and is mass producing it, Tadashi gets his friends involved. They're initially skeptical even with the pictures (which are terrible quality lol), but Tadashi convinces them to come see the warehouse with him so he can prove himself. Since they get a jump start this time, they end up catching Kabuki Man red-handed as he's still moving the microbot-making equipment.

Obviously Kabuki Man chases Team Tadashi, and there's a brief chase scene. However, Tadashi came prepared: he brought EB-1 (hastily modified to have some fighting prowess) and unleashes it on Kabuki Man for its first "test run." EB-1 successfully fills all its initial parameters before Kabuki Man bails, which Tadashi is excited about - his invention works! His friends are considerably less excited about all this and vote to go somewhere to recuperate.

Safe at Fred's house (because we NEED that reveal), Tadashi and his friends put their heads together to figure out their options. One thing leads to another, and the five of them end up pinning Krei as a main suspect - not necessarily as Kabuki Man himself, but definitely as someone who might be involved.

One fic I read was such an unoriginal rehash that it literally repeated movie scenes verbatim with Tadashi speaking Hiro's lines (AU authors please don't do this) BUT the one place it did try to be original was by replacing Hiro's gadgets-making montage with Team Tadashi literally flying up to Krei's office on the top floor (using Baymax no less) and interrogating him, and I honestly can't think of a more ic way for the group to go about it. If you asked me "what would a bunch of tired and desperate STEM majors do when they need to talk to a rich businessman they can't contact" that would be it lmao.

Interrogating Krai goes about as well as you'd expect: he refuses to give them any information, but does make a compelling enough argument that Team Tadashi is forced to leave him alone. Tadashi still doesn't trust him but reluctantly rules him out as a Kabuki Man suspect. However, Krei accidentally drops a couple clues about Silent Sparrow that will become relevant later.

Team Tadashi dejectedly calls it quits, and the team tries to convince Tadashi to focus his energy elsewhere. But Tadashi isn't giving up just yet.

[mental-health-advice]

TW for several things. I am an alcoholic and most of the time I don’t care that I am. I like getting drunk. I believe there’s a spectrum of addictive people but I’ve never felt guilty for my coping mechanisms. It started with eating disorders that’s how I coped with life, then I cut, and now alcohol. I don’t feel ashamed of these things, I like them. I’ve managed to cut out ED and self harm but not alcohol it makes me feel so carefree and happy when the rest of my life has felt like shit. I haven’t been happy in a long time and my coping mechanisms as toxic as they are, help, so I love them for that. Since 14 (I’m now 25) I haven’t gone an extended time without a toxic coping mechanism unless you count when I was with my ex who I still love and felt a purpose with. I don’t really have friends, I work and drink, I love my cats and family but it doesn’t feel like enough to care. I want to be special to someone who isn’t family. Idk I just don’t know what to do. I know my drinking has gotten to worrying proportions but I just don’t care because I can still function to do what is required of me. I’m scared because I don’t want to stop because I can trust alcohol to not let me down unlike so many things in life, and honestly after having depression, PTSD from multiple things, anxiety, and secretly being queer in a super conservative family, as well as being poor and disabled, I feel like I deserve an unhealthy coping mechanism. Before you ask yes I’m on meds and have a therapist I love but she’s so good and sweet and I don’t want to disappoint her but telling her the truth. This was a huge word vomit because I just feel awful and I want to stop being so angry at myself but idk how to do that without giving up my addiction.

Hey there,

It can be so hard when we despise ourselves so much that we feel as though we need an addiction to help us through life. I know it’s hard but I would encourage you to speak to your therapist about this, the likelihood of her being disappointed in you is very low (like 1%) as her job is to help you and support you no matter what you may be going through or experiencing right now.

I too have had/ still have sometimes the same self-destructive coping mechanisms as you and I won’t lie, yes it is hard to stop and it is especially hard to say goodbye to the drinking but if this is what you truly want then it is possible to stop. I do still struggle with relapses every now and again and especially when I face huge life stressors or just miss that high, but with the support around you it is possible to limit the alcohol usage if this is what you want. Another thing I want to quickly mention about talking to your therapist is that she won’t make you stop drinking or taking away any of your ‘coping strategies’ as this is only something you can decide to do, but she can help to support you through the process no matter what you decide to do!

Despite having your family and your cats, it sounds to me that you need something else to help to fulfill your life. So in saying this, do you have any interests in life, anything that you can work towards doing that may help to give your life some meaning again? I know that your ex was really helpful for you but unfortunately, we cannot always depend on others to help us with what we are going through/ experiences. Yes they can definitely be of some help definitely but in the end in life there is only you who can make the big decisions and finding the will to keep going no matter how that may look like for you!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren  

[dirtytransmasc]

add on to my post from before, I just felt bad leaving such a long response to the OP's post, I split it up a little. so go here for context

Billy would definitely help with everyone's anger issues;

He knows how repeated trauma, shitty parents, and being teens effects your anger management, so he definitely tussles with all the kids. he lets them scream, yell, and bitch whenever something got them really upset.

- He takes Lucas to the court and they really go at each other for hours.

-he lets mike throw some punches.

-He lets Max and El tackle him and generally hang on him.

-Dustin and Will typically are more yellers than anything else but the offer's always there while he listens to long-winded rants.

-Erica typically bullshits him about their problems, she likes that he treats her as both a kid and mature, finding a balance, being able to navigate between who she is and who she pretends to be; she feels respected and able to be at ease with him, he won't treat like a baby even if she isn't trying to act more like an adult, like others do (I relate to erica in the sense, that I'm mature for my age, but to be respected by others I have to act like an adult instead of just a mature kid if that makes sense.)

with the other older teens he really gets into it.

- Nancy would actually work out with him, they're gym partners, and get makes sure she never gets bothered while she's there. it gives her a sense of control over her fire. she's a punching bag girl and likes to work on more practical skills than building muscle mass for show or impressive strength. it helps with the anxiety of not being prepared for danger.

-Steve likes to get high and bicker, anger makes his head hurt after so many concussions, so he soothes it with weed and gets it all out.

-Jonathan likes the quiet, so he takes shotgun with billy while he speeds down empty backroads. they don't do much talking, but there's a silent understanding as they share a joint.

-Robin likes pressure and movement, so he puts on her favorite songs and dances with her, squeezing her as they rock back and forth for slow songs, and getting he all riled up for faster ones. he also definitely gets into some super deep shit with her, like stuff about being queer and everything.

- He definitely jams out with Eddie, normally with him on the drums and Eddie on his guitar. they can play for hours and go so hard they're both trembling and they end up with noise complaints. (that sounds so sexual, for no reason, why is describing playing music so sensual)

- Chrissy (she gets to live too) normally joins the boy's jam session, cause she actually really likes that type of music, but just between her and billy, she really likes his hugs. they're tight and warm, all consuming. she feels held together, and it makes her feel a bit better

this was a combo of things, billy helping his friends+their unhealthy coping mechanism, but I enjoyed writing it. also, I want it to be clear, billy doesn't always enjoy all these things, but he does them for his friends, that's why some of them feel out of character for him.

[reallyverynormal]

btw... delusional attachments were a thing made up by a guy on twitter. they’re not an actual documented phenomenon in psychosis, and the closest things to DAs are delusional misidentifications (which have someone under a delusion that someone/something *else* was replaced/is something they’re not, not the person’s own identity), and delusions of grandeur as seen in various disorders like NPD, schizophrenia, etc, and those have you believing that you’re things like a god/royalty and not fictional characters.

they’re not a documented phenomenon, and were one started, (even directly coined), by a guy on twitter.

also, even if they were a fully real and documented phenomenon, if you’re actually psychotic and trying to get better, (through self-help/self-dx or professional help/professional dx), then you would know that encouraging the delusion and asking that other people around you also encourage the delusion and help you actively disconnect from your own actual real life, rather than helping you through the delusional/dissociative episode(s) is massively unhealthy, anti-recovery, and even triggering for other psychotic and dissociative people who are trying to recover.

if you struggle with believing you’re a fictional character and detaching from your life like that, especially if it’s a coping mechanism for trauma, stress, etc, because it’s easier/more fun/helps you cope to believe that you’re a better/stronger/more interesting/more scary/cooler/etc person, (recognize that there is no judgement here on my part for any of these reasons), consider a severe dissociative disorder, (not inherently DID, and this is not inherently a fictive/introject thing, as i have DID but struggle with identity issues and seeing myself as fictional characters even though no fictives of these characters exist within my system, because it’s easier to believe i’m someone else, or to project my life onto a fictional character who could handle it better), or consider that you may have a special interest that you struggle with your attachment to, (speaking from experience, not every special interest, especially ones tied to trauma, are good), or that you’re just kin. there is no shame in being kin, whether it’s for fun, or trauma reasons, whether you take it super seriously, or not.

i’m not really going to argue about this, i’m just bringing it up because i chose to end a mutual over this, knowing that they would probably be upset with following me if they knew how i felt about the entire DA situation. if we’re mutuals/you follow me and you want to discuss the entire thing, PM me, but i’ve personally had horrible experiences with the DA community, and firmly believe that even if they were a real, documented phenomenon, the current state of the DA and psychotic communities are full of incredibly uninformed dissociatives and kinnies who are actively hurting psychotic people regardless.

if you start shit over this post i’m just going to send laser beams to your head, i’m not fighting with anyone about this. not even gonna tag it with anything because i don’t want it to go hugely outside of the scope of my own circle.

[embermc]

"People improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don't?"

This is a quote from The Good Place (awesome show, by the way, check it out). It's a show largely about redemption, morality, and the nature of humanity. Very importantly, it's a show about how people aren't inherently evil at heart, and although they can hurt other people and that isn't okay, they can also be negatively affected by their circumstances, and a large part of what makes redemption and changing for the better work is "external love and support" from others.

I've alluded to this quote before in previous posts, but I think it really perfectly applies to c!Wilbur right now, in his current state.

c!Wilbur, as we've seen, has been stuck in a dark, cold Limbo for thirteen years. He has had barely any stimuli, nothing but a deck of cards for entertainment, a lot of lingering mental illnesses, and most importantly for the context of this post, barely anyone to be with. He mentioned c!Schlatt sleeping for a while, and we now have the knowledge that Schlatt was off being a realtor. Mexican Dream is there, but there's a good chance that it wasn't for long, since he was a relatively new death that was only added years in, and he wasn't around in Tommy and Wilbur's conversation. And then there's c!Tommy. c!Tommy was with Wilbur in Limbo for a brief period of time, a few months, before leaving again which, is good for c!Tommy and I'm glad he didn't have to spend more time there, but it meant c!Wilbur had to spend even more years in crippling loneliness and near total isolation.

When he died, c!Wilbur was already not in a good mental state. He was incredibly depressed, traumatized, paranoid, suicidal, and in general, very mentally ill. This lead to him lashing out and hurting others, and in general, being a very morally grey character that made a lot of mistakes. As confirmed by c!Tommy, this shaky mental state and these behaviors have not gotten better during c!Wilbur's time in Limbo. And, of course they didn't. Isolation and crippling loneliness have never been the solution to healing someone's mental state, and this is something that has been proven time and time again by the SMP. In fact, a recurring theme on the SMP is that companionship and the company of others, and having others to be around and be a positive influence on you, is the best way to heal and fix yourself. In turn, the themes of the SMP have also shown that isolation, whether it be self-imposed or forceful, are absolutely devastating for one's mental state and condition, often leading to them making a lot of errors that they wouldn't have otherwise made.

c!Wilbur is no different. (Explanation under cut).

Upon returning to life, c!Wilbur is in a state of clear desperation. He undoubtedly doesn't want a repeat of his bad mental state and his situation in Limbo, where he was isolated, and he's searching for a purpose, for things to do, a role to play (since he has always assigned his self-worth to a role). Above all, he clearly doesn't want to lose c!Tommy. This has been made apparent and true numerous times, as we see him be desperate for c!Tommy to stay with him and to protect c!Tommy, even when Tommy himself wasn't watching or listening in. c!Wilbur doesn't want to be alone. He also is desperately searching for a role, a position of power, a nation, a rivalry, a headquarters, anything he can hold onto in order to have a sense of self-worth or a purpose.

And yeah, in the process, c!Wilbur may not be the most morally pure. He was definitely trying to guilt-trip and use underhanded methods of persuasion with Tommy to get him to stay with him and choose him over c!Quackity. He was lashing out, yelling at others in heated, stressful moments. He was occasionally lying. A lot of his coping mechanisms for his trauma were unhealthy, both for himself and for others. But here's the thing...how could he possibly have any other coping mechanisms? After being in a state of isolation and loneliness for literal years, it makes complete and total sense for him to not be a perfect human being. It makes sense for him to not have the best coping mechanisms, to, in the process, hurt those around him (despite wanting to be a better person, and I honestly believe this). While c!Wilbur's mental issues are not the responsibility of anyone else, c!Wilbur has not even had the benefit to have somebody that's a positive influence around him to keep him company, to make him slowly realize that he doesn't need to keep using the same unhealthy coping mechanisms. He has been without any real love or support for so long.

c!Wilbur is terrified of losing c!Tommy, because he doesn't want to be alone again, and doesn't know what to do if he was alone. He doesn't know who he is, alone, without a role to fit himself into or somebody to protect who looks up to him. He doesn't want a repeat of Limbo, where he wallowed in self-hatred and mental agony by himself for years. So he's desperate to keep c!Tommy with him, so desperate that he's willing to use morally dubious tactics like guilt-tripping in order to ensure he doesn't end up by himself. It's not morally correct for him to do, and it's negative for c!Tommy's mental health, but it's not a super malicious action coming from some irredeemable evil person. c!Wilbur's genuinely scared, and having a traumatic response to fearing a potential situation where he could end up alone again, a response that ends up hurting others despite him most likely not meaning to.

And because he's been alone for so long, without any real support, any real companionship, any real love, he's latching onto coping mechanisms and behaviors that won't necessarily be good or healthy for anyone. He's doing bad things as a result of a bad mindset, and he hasn't had the opportunity to heal from this bad mindset because he can't do it alone. It's very hard to heal alone, and to fix an unhealthy mindset alone, which is again, a theme that's been shown to us time and time again. And again, c!Wilbur's mindset is nobody's responsibility, least of all c!Tommy, who is a kid with his own trauma and issues, but c!Wilbur has been alone so long that he hasn't even been able to benefit solely from at least having somebody with him to positively influence him.

This doesn't excuse harm or stress he caused to c!Tommy, and c!Tommy would be perfectly in the right to distance himself from c!Wilbur if he so chooses, but it does explain a lot of c!Wilbur's actions and show that he's not some irredeemable monster. He makes mistakes, yes, but he's been trapped in an unhealthy mindset, with unhealthy behaviors and coping mechanisms, for so long, without ever getting much external love or support to help him out of that dark place. It makes sense that he isn't going to change overnight, and it would be a long process where he would most likely make more mistakes out of fear, or trauma, or any other factor. But one can't act like he's evil, or irredeemable, because he's not. c!Wilbur is a scared, traumatized guy who desperately doesn't want to lose everything he believes he has left, and from that desperation, comes actions and behaviors that end up hurting those around him, as well as himself.

It's important to hold c!Wilbur accountable for his actions, yes, but, there's a good chance he can change when he gets external love and support, so we can't act like he's acting out of pure malice or evil when he hasn't, for so long.

[mariaiscrafting]

Look, Imma say it: headcanons about real CCs is super WeirdChamp. It's psychoanalytical and invasive and not at all the same as heacanon'ing for characters. When one makes headcanons for a character, one is basing them upon a fictional person's fictional personality, dynamics, relationships, in the context of their fictional world, etc. But when one headcanons about a real person, one is making assumptions about their real personality and history, trying to extrapolate one's own interpretation of their words, actions, relationships, etc. And there's just something about that sits very poorly with me. It just feels so... ahhfjgkg I can't properly articulate why it feels so gross and invasive right now.

Two more things, though. First of all, by headcanons about irl CCs, I basically mean theorizing, analyzing, and truthing. There's so, so many examples of these things in this fandom, but off the top of my head, some examples include theorizing about CC's sexualities, potential familial/home situations, academic situations, mental health, career goals, and interpersonal problems. And by theorizing, I mean coming up with one's own conclusions about the aforementioned things, without the CC having explicitly given evidence for those conclusions.

Second of all, I feel like discussions in this fandom tend to be framed around how detrimental certain things are to CCs. While I think that's an important discussion to be, had for sure, and that CCs deserved to be treated better, with respect and as humans, I personally think it's a lot more important for us to talk about why certain things we do are bad for us, as viewers. To get so invested in real people who do not know us, to use streamers as such an emotional crutch, that we invest so much of our own lives and mental efforts to learn everything we can about their lives and then take it a step further and try theorizing about them, cannot be healthy. There are so, so many things this fandom does that is representative of just how much we use CCs as unhealthy coping mechanisms, and it's really concerning to me. I am not exempt from this. Part of the reason I'm making this post is because I've realized that I need to reevaluate my own life and engage with media more healthily than I currently am, if I've gotten to the point of entertaining some of the headcanons about irl CCs that I see on Tumblr and Twitter. To go beyond simple observation and fan indulgence to this level of obsession - and that what it is for most of us, obsession - is something else entirely. I mentioned a couple months ago, back when I was engaging in a completely different kind of discourse that my sisters and I had come up with a theory: that a majority of the people in the MCYT fandom are using this to escape problems in their own lives. And I still think this is probably true. I think this, like many other forms of media, is being used as a form of escapism for many ND minors/young adults, minors who are going through abusive/unstable households, people traumatized by the effects of this pandemic, queer people handling their own oppression and trauma, etc. And that's not bad, in and of itself. But escapism taken too far, in a desperate attempt to completely detach one's self from one's own life and entrench one's self in a fictional or idealized space instead, is just not healthy. This isn't healthy.

Anyways, as usual, some disclaimers: this post is not in response to any specific person or instance on Tumblr or Twitter. I only ever made one vague post on this blog that was directed at someone, and I will never do that again. This post was just something that's been simmering in my head for a few days now, and I finally wanted to articulate it. Also, I am not an expert on anything I talk about ever. I'm just some loser with some opinions, so don't take my word as the end-all-be-all. Discourse, sans attacks, is welcome.

[aj28gaming]

Danganronpa messing up Nagito's character cuz apparently even they believe headcanons

Is it just me or is Danganronpa making Nagito worse?

Like at the start we have a socially intelligent and intuitive paranoid kid who hates despair and gets forced into a killing game that is filled with everything he hates and fears

So he clings desperately to hope as a coping mechanism to deal with everything

And then in the anime, we get a social outcast (for some reason even though people would've loved his hope talks like they did back in chapter 1 since no killing game happens and he is just speaking normally)

who bombs a school (forget his paranoia apparently) and nonchalantly allows himself to get out of the island and accidentally kill 40+ soldiers (again, ignoring his paranoia of his destructive luck cycle apparently)

And then in Danganronpa 2.5 we get a socially inept, clingy hope addict who apparently doesn't have boundaries?

(We seriously ignoring how much he pushes people away back in SDR2, is afraid of having friends due to his luck cycle, respects boundaries to the max, and how socially intelligent he is and his crazy empathy to know people's hopes and despairs?)

(And no even Mikan's motivations he understood, he knew she killed for despair because she literally killed for Junko, Mikan just says he doesn't understand because she doesn't count is as killing for despair, she counts it as killing for love)

And some of the fans defend this and says Nagito is hated or is supposed to have no boundaries because of his social ineptness or inability to properly socialize

Okay

WHEN?

WHEN HAS HE IN SUPER DANGANRONPA 2 ACTUALLY SUCKED AT SOCIALIZING OR WAS SOCIALLY INEPT OR OUT OF TOUCH?

NOT THE ANIME OR SPINOFFS, I AM TALKING ABOUT THE ACTUAL SECOND GAME WHERE HE FIRST SHOWED HIS FACE

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOW GONNA BASE ALMOST ALL OF MY POINTS ON HOW NAGITO IS AND ACTS DURING SDR2 AND THAT INCLUDES HIS FREE TIME EVENTS AND ISLAND MODE

NOT THE ANIME OR DANGANRONPA 2.5, JUST DANGANRONPA 2 GOODBYE DESPAIR

Bruh, the guy is hated sure, but boy was he awesome at being a people-person and gathering people during chapter 1

He encouraged everyone with his hope talks and Hajime even kept simping for the guy because of his positivity

And due to the guy's CRAZY HIGH EMPATHY AND UNDERSTANDING, he is able to understand the hopes and despairs of almost every freaking character

He knew Teruteru wanted to continue the culinary legacy and help his mom, that's his hope

He knew Imposter would want to protect everyone no matter what, that's his hope

He knew Mikan killed for Despair, that despair being Junko Enoshima

He knew Fuyuhiko's hope is Peko and that both of them care about each other very much

He knew how similar he and Hajime are and how they are both bystanders and lovers of Hope, for Hajime that Hope being Hope's Peak academy itself and/or having talent

The guy is crazy with how well he knows people, and he is definitely not socially inept at all

He respects boundaries, is able to read the room and the only time he seems socially inept is when he is either trying to purposefully annoy someone to get a reaction or when he is too obsessed with his ideas with hope

The guy is obsessed with hope, yes, but he is not socially inept

That is seriously downgrading how much empathy he has and how much understanding he has for every character

And Nagito does have empathy, the reason why it seems like he doesn't is because he treats the dead people like stepping stones for hope

He does have empathy tho, and too much that it takes a toll on his mental health whenever he sees dead bodies, so he clings to hope in order to cope and tries to pretend that it's okay if people die because there is always hope

(basically, deniability at it's finest)

It's not that the guy doesn't care, it's that he does a little too much

Which is why he laughs, laughing for him doesn't mean he is happy, it means he is surprised (he says this in island mode)

And seeing that his greatest fears are seeing people die constantly because of his luck cycle, wouldn't be surprised that he laughs like crazy in a literal killing game

And laughing out of stress or fear isn't unheard of, I mean there is also a thing called nervous laughter

And jesus christ, CAN PEOPLE STOP TRYING TO USE FRONTOTEMPORAL DEMENTIA SYMPTOMS TO EXPLAIN HIM?

What I mean is, yes he has dementia or is at least diagnosed with it

And I believe that he probably does actually have dementia (not saying he could've lied tho but he could've still been misdiagnosed)

But that doesn't mean he has all of the symptoms

I don't think we can confirm if he does or doesn't have dementia because he might just not have all of the symptoms

But I do know that using the symptoms to explain his character isn't a good idea especially since it usually undermines who he actually is

Like, let me explain

Behavior and/or dramatic personality changes, such as swearing, stealing, increased interest in sex, or a deterioration in personal hygiene habits

- No, and no not even when the killing game started. Yeah sure he laughs now, but that's no different from how he is normally since laughing for him is what he does when he gets surprised or stressed. He doesn't change much in the killing game, he still believes in hope and everyone else, still respects boundaries, still have crazy high intellect and empathy, still pushes people away

Socially inappropriate, impulsive, or repetitive behaviors

- not really, again the guy is a freaking gentleman even during the killing game. He respects boundaries, reprimands Teruteru for sexual assault during chapter 1, pushes people away and distances himself from others, isn't at all impulsive (usually quite the opposite really), and is usually planning and tries to remain calm and composed throughout the killing game (struggling tho cuz yeah killing game)

Impaired judgment

- here, I kinda disagree. I wouldn't say that Nagito is entirely in the right with everything he does, but I understand his views. The guy knows that no one is truly a bad person in the killing game because everyone was forced into it. He knows that even the blackened escapes and everyone dies, it isn't fully a bad thing because that means someone escapes and goes back home to their loved ones while the killing game ends

If a blackened succeeds, the despair would be of course everyone else dying and the blackened going through a lot of trauma, but the hope would be the end of the killing game and the blackened going home or to their loved ones or to their goal in life or whatever

If the blackened dies, the despair would obviously be the blackened dying and the killing game still continuing, while the hope would be everyone else still alive

Nagito isn't exactly wrong in wanting to help the blackened as well, of course, Nagito would want him himself to be the victim so another person gets a chance at escape and no one else would be the victim

Sadly for Nagito, that time never comes

Nagito doesn't want others to be killed, he wants to sacrifice himself instead as the victim instead of everyone else

Apathy

- .....big no. Nonononono. The dude is anything but apathetic.

"Apathy is a lack of feeling, emotion, interest, or concern about something."

Seriously, being a dude who is constantly supportive of everyone and their hopes in life and how passionate this dude gets about hope and despair, and the fact that he is the most stressed 24/7 about something bad happening due to his luck, this guy is seriously anything but apathetic

Lack of empathy

- No. If the guy truly lack empathy he wouldn't need to use Hope desperately as a coping mechanism, wouldn't care about the ultimates and their hopes and despairs, wouldn't constantly be thinking about helping the ultimates and overcoming despair, wouldn't be the most stressed out of everyone, and definitely wouldn't be in love with Hajime or even act the way he did in chapter 1

Decreased self-awareness

- You don't actually understand why you act the way you do.

A good indicator that you lack self-awareness deals with how well you understand your emotions, actions, and behavior. People who lack self-awareness often feel constantly off-kilter, anxious, or angry.

This is not Nagito at all. The guy understands his emotions and behaviors which is why he is able to do the things he does and is able to conduct plans based on how much he understands his own self and capabilities. The guy is actually the most self-aware out of everyone, he knows about how people don't understand him and constantly misunderstand him and his intentions, he is aware constantly of his inability sometimes to properly explain his goals to people.

The guy has a lot of self-awareness and isn't afraid to take responsibility for his actions. Actually, it's because of how self-aware he is of his own self and his destructive luck cycle that he constantly blames himself for anything bad that happens.

The guy is seriously self-aware as hell and it's scary sometimes

Loss of interest in normal daily activities

- Nope, he hasn't shown any sign of apathy towards anything and is usually pretty hyped about doing daily activities. He is paranoid though on the daily because he fears for what his luck cycle might do

Emotional withdrawal from others

- Emotional withdrawal involves bottling up your emotions. It involves cutting out the people who could help us, because we're so used to rejection that we've learned to anticipate it. Because we've learned to disconnect from others, we develop other unhealthy coping mechanisms

Emotional withdrawal is defined as pulling back emotionally or physically by bottling up your feelings or disconnecting from others. Emotional withdrawal can be far more complex at times. It is comparable to a breakup, in every way but physical.

Kind of? Yes, he pushes people away, but he is still willing to spend time with people, especially Hajime, when they really insist. He politely pushes people away, but he isn't opposed to hanging out with people either though it is sometimes rare

Loss of energy and motivation

- .... I already said it before, the guy is full of motivation and energy and passion that it is scary sometimes

Inability to use or understand language; this may include difficulty naming objects, expressing words, or understanding the meanings of words

-.....WHY IS THIS HERE? THE GUY IN THE JAPANESE DUB CONSTANTLY FLEXES HIS DAMN ENGLISH VOCABULARY DESPITE IT BEING A JAPANESE DUB

AND THE FUCKING ENGLISH WORDS HE USES ARE FANCY AND HIGH LEVEL AS FUCK THAT I FEEL SMART JUST READING THEM

Hesitation when speaking

- Definite no, the guy isn't afraid to voice his own opinions and never hesitates and can get very vocal about the things he is passionate about

Less frequent speech

- Again, definite hell no. I wouldn't be surprised if his voice lines are longer than the voice lines of everyone else combined

Distractibility

- Nope. The guy is focused on his goals constantly. No matter what he does, you can always be sure that it is for a certain goal. He pisses of Fuyuhiko? It was to get a reaction from him to confirm his suspicions about the true culprit. He lied about the rope? It was to see how Mikan would react and how the trial would go to confirm his suspicions about Mikan being the culprit?

The guy is focused like a damn soldier

Trouble planning and organizing

-.....do I seriously need to explain? This is Nagito we are talking about

Frequent mood changes

- Not really. He usually acts or reacts a certain way because something happened like someone died or something. He is actually pretty normal with how he acts and reacts and doesn't really change his mood rapidly that much

Agitation

- Yes and no? Sure the guy gets paranoid 24/7, but is still somewhat more chill than agitated to an extent. He is easy going and is just paranoid about what his luck would do, he is vigilant but not necessarily agitated

Increasing dependence

- No. The guy is independent to a fault and only relies on others when his plans call for it. He also usually does things of his own accord and rarely with a partner unless he really needs to or his goal is to help that person specifically, which knowing him is a usual thing

Unwillingness to talk

- Again, no. The guy talks a lot and while he pushes others away, he wouldn't turn down a conversation if the other person wanted one

Lack of inhibition or lack of social tact

- Again, no. The guy is a gentleman and respects boundaries and definitely gets stressed especially in the killing game. The guy is also paranoid 24/7 on a normal day due to his luck cycle

Obsessive or repetitive behavior, such as compulsively shaving or collecting items

- No? Sure he clings to hope but that is more of a coping mechanism. If he isn't in a stressful situation like a killing game he doesn't get that obsessive as much about hope since he doesn't need to desperately cling to it as a coping mechanism

Unusual verbal, physical or sexual behavior

- No? He isn't at all like this. It isn't unusual to panic or use a coping mechanism desperately when in a situation like a killing game, and he doesn't do anything unusual like this when it's a normal day. Sure the guy gets paranoid, but that's it

Weight gain due to dramatic overeating

- No? Actually, I don't really know how much weight he gains to be honest so idk

My main point here is, yes there is a chance Nagito does actually have dementia, but using the symptoms as a way to explain his character undermines who he actually is and can cause a lot of misunderstandings of his character

Especially since I remember being told that they only added in dementia to his character backstory a little late during his character development and creation

It isn't a good idea to use his symptoms because it usually gets his character wrong and sometimes makes them excuse a lot of the things he has done

The guy is self-aware, isn't socially inept, is a gentleman, and socially intelligent as hell

And I really hate how even Danganronpa itself seems to forget that

It's like they forgot who Nagito is, to begin with