#and when he defends himself she runs and hides in the bathroom

[doodlboy]

Abnormal abt Sayaka & Leon now

[musings-of-a-rose]

I'll Always Wait For You - Chapter 16

Pairing: Frankie Morales OR Santiago Garcia???x f!reader

Word Count: 5900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m sorry this took so long to get to. In my defense, I birthed a human and then had to care for it so Frankie kindly waited for me to be at a point where I could really focus on him and his story. Plus, y’all made me rethink a lot of things so it took some time!

A huge thank you to @vanemando15 for reading and listening and bouncing ideas off of. @astoryisaloveaffair and @mermaidxatxheart, ya'll really helped me too!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

I'll Always Wait For You Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

<<Chapter 15

—----

"Frankie.. ::sigh::  if you're looking for me, you can stop. I can't be around you right now. I need time away to think clearly. You've put me through so much shit these last months and I just..can't. I can't keep wondering what you're not telling me. I can't keep being 2nd place. 

::whimper and a sob::

Do you want the drugs or me? Do you want to be with…Elizabeth.. or me? I can't keep listening to you defend her or hide your addiction. Not anymore. I can't so please… ::sob:: think about it."

Frankie played the voicemail from you over and over, tears silently flowing down his face every time he hears your words and how you break down crying. 

I did this. I fucked this up. And for what?

Nothing was going on between him and Elizabeth, not since they were married. She divorced him while he was in a coma and just made his life a living hell. Why would he want that back?

Events of that night flashed before his eyes and he runs his hands across his face. Elizabeth had nearly given him a hand job and he didn't even notice. He was too involved in his conversation to notice. And honestly, probably too high and drunk to notice. Or care.

But he did care. Frankie didn't want it. Any of it. Once you took off, he'd come back yelling at Elizabeth and telling her off. 

He went back inside Flyboyz, commanding Rick to give him the keys to his SUV. He just had to find Hermosa and everything would be ok. He’d explain what happened and she’d understand. It would all work out, right?

He takes off, driving first to his house. Seeing no one there and no evidence someone had been, he heads to Hermosa’s place in the next town over. It makes sense she wouldn’t have been at his house - he wouldn’t have gone there either. She’s most likely at home.

When knocking on her door brings no answer, Frankie finds the hide-a-key and shoves it in the lock, all but flinging open the door and yelling her name. No answer. He walks the apartment and finds no one here. It’s when he sits on the couch to think about where she might have gone that he notices it - the blanket she always kept on the back of the couch is missing. The only time it’s not there is when she travels because she takes it with her. Jumping up, he runs to her closet and notices a few things astray. When he can’t find her suitcase, he mumbles to himself “No no no no!”, rushing to the bathroom and yanking open the cabinets to see bare shelves, a few nearly empty containers left behind. The final clue that she had packed a bag and left were her missing plants, which Frankie would later find on her neighbor’s doormat. 

Where the fuck is she?

—----

Santi couldn’t believe it. She came with him. To Colombia. He’d always dreamed she would be with him, but he never thought she would actually do it.

In the beginning, he gave her space, wanted her to process what happened and know that he was there for her. She did just that, coming to him a few weeks later, softly kissing his lips while he stood in the kitchen, an empty coffee mug in his hand ready for his morning cup. 

Santi went to work with a pep in his step and a smile on his face, his men teasing him at first about him getting laid. One day, Hermosa came into work and brought him lunch, and his men’s teasing turned into praises and asking for advice on how to land someone like that. 

“It takes time. I’ve waited for her for years.”

When Santi comes home from work, she is there waiting for him, usually with some sort of meal. He tells her he doesn’t need it, that she doesn’t have to put herself out, but she just smiles and kisses him, telling him she wants to take care of him, especially since he’s taken care of her all these years. 

Santi wakes one morning, the sun streaming in through the crack in the curtains and splaying across Hermosa’s bare back in front of him. He reaches out, gently running his hand across her skin, smiling at the goosebumps that raise in his wake. She doesn’t stir until he presses his lips to her shoulder, sliding his hand around her front and pulling her close to him.

“Mmmm…” she groans, turning her head and reaching back to pull his face to hers, gently kissing him. 

Santi gently rolls her onto her back, slotting his body between her legs, neither of them having bothered to put clothes on after last night’s escapades. She wraps her legs around him, her hands cupping his face as he starts to slide himself through her. She breaks the kiss with a whine, Santi lifting his head high enough to stare into her eyes as he pushes in, loving the way she slams her eyes shut, mouth hanging open as he bottoms out. 

“You feel fucking amazing, Hermosa. So wet.”

“Just for you, Santi.” She whines out his name as he pulls out, gently pushing back in with an added roll of his hips, angling himself to rub against that spot inide of her that curls her toes.

His hands ghost across her skin as she grips his arms, feeling him sliding in and out as they make love. When she comes she calls his name, a steady chant of “oh God oh God!” behind it. He smiles, pushing into her a few more times before it’s his turn, filling her up with every sporadic thrust of his hips. He looks down at her fucked out expression and smiles, his finger tips brushing at her face.

“I love you, Hermosa.”

“I love yo-”

BANG BANG BANG!

Loud knocking interrupts the moment and Santi jolts awake, sitting bolt upright, covered in sweat and, he looks down, other stuff as the person knocking continues to demand he open the door. Santi swears, pulling on his robe as he crosses his apartment, grabbing his gun on the way over. When he looks through the peephole, he sighs, taking a breath before opening the door.

“Where is she?”

Santi raises his eyebrows. “Nice to see you too, Frankie.”

Frankie rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Santi. Where the fuck is she? Is she here?”

Santi yawns. “Who?”

Frankie pushes past him into the apartment, eyes scanning the room for any sign of a second occupant. 

“She’s not here, Fish.”

Frankie turns to him, eyes wide and wild. “She has to be here. You guys are best friends.”

Santi gestures around. “Well, as you can see, she isn’t here.”

Frankie grunts and turns back, stomping off down the hallway. He pulls open one door to find an empty bathroom and the next one the bedroom, which is also empty. No signs of anyone else living here, aside from Santi. Frankie walks back into the living room and sits on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

“I fucked up, Santi.”

Santi chuckles. “Yeah, man. You did.”

Frankie’s eyes meet Santi’s. “I love her, Pope. I love her more than I love myself. I would never… I just need to see her. To explain…do you know where she is?”

Santi shakes his head. “She never came with me, Fish. I did ask her to but she said no. Needed time by herself.”

Frankie swallows hard, choking back tears. “H-how long ago was that?”

“Couple days.”

Frankie nods. “And you promise she’s not here?”

“Have you seen anything to suggest she has?”

Frankie glances around again as if he’d find something of hers laying around. “No.”

“Sorry you wasted a trip. You could’ve just called.”

“I had to see for myself.”

“Fair enough.”

A few moments pass before Frankie speaks. “Can I crash on your couch tonight? I can book a flight but the next one out isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Sure, man.”

“Thanks. And Santi?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

—----

2 days after Frankie get’s back from Colombia, he figures it out. A conversation he’d had with you years ago, about where you’d live if money wasn’t an issue. That has to be where she went!

The next day, Frankie steps off the ferry after it docks in Friday Harbor, Washington, a small island in the San Juan Islands. This is where you wanted to live, at least for a long while, loving the scenery, the people, and the whales. You had to be here. 

Frankie had had no luck calling around to hotels. Either you used a different name or they were reluctant to give out guest information. He can’t blame them, but it still pissed him off. Frankie walks past the community center and sees a flyer in the window for a farmer’s market that day. He figured he would start there, maybe ask some of the vendors if they’d seen you.

He walks the first isle, pausing to take a look around. It’s fairly large for a small island, a few rows of vendors selling wares and produce, even fresh flowers. As he scans the area, he notices a woman in a sundress with a wide brimmed hat, standing at the opposite end of the isle from him. He knew it was Hermosa before she turns slightly, smiling at the vendor while nodding, picking up more produce. 

It was the sad look on her face that made Frankie pause mid step. He knows he’s the reason it’s there. He watches her for another minute before turning, heading back to the ferry. 

I have to get my shit together, get clean, before I talk to her. She deserves that. Aurelia deserves that. I’m such a fucking idiot. I just hope she’ll talk to me when I’m clean.

What Frankie doesn’t see is you, glancing up at the place where Frankie had been standing, telling yourself that you had imagined seeing a man in a dark blue hat with curls poking out from under it.

—----

8 months later…

You hadn’t meant to stay this long, but when you stepped off the ferry and felt the cool, misty air on your face, saw the jagged cliffs leading down into the cold waters that you loved, you just couldn’t tear yourself away. 

It was really hard at first, being here alone. Without Frankie. You cried. A lot. It felt like you’d lost him all over again. You knew you’d have to face him eventually and have a hard conversation, but for now, you would focus on you. 

You’d only meant to stay a few weeks. But then you met an older couple that ran a little b&b who needed help with their social media and you stayed, offering to do it for free in exchange for a room. They happened to have a second property, a small studio above a coffee shop just a couple blocks from the harbor where the ferry docked. It was the perfect size for you, even had a full kitchen and bathroom. You adjusted to the ferry horns and bustling people quickly, just happy to be here. 

Until you remembered why you were here. 

Even all these months later, it would catch you off guard, creep up on you whenever you weren’t thinking about it. About him. You knew you’d have to talk to him soon. But what would you say? What would he say? Did he even try to find you? Did you want him to?

You continue to stare out of the coffee shop window at the harbor, eyes glazed over in thought as you absent mindedly sip from your cup. Weather seems nice. I think I’ll go for a hike toda-

“Hey.”

Goosebumps erupt across your skin, your stomach immediately starts churning, and your heart starts to race. You’d know that voice anywhere. You blink a few times, slowly turning your head to look up into the eyes of the man who broke your heart and somehow still held it. You stare up at him, saying nothing but taking in his appearance.

Frankie shifts nervously under your gaze. “It’s uh…it’s been a while.”

He looks…good. Like he actually got sleep. He’s not rubbing at his nose, not even a sniffle. His cheeks have filled in a bit and his eyes don’t have that look to them anymore. You scan down his body and it’s then you notice he doesn’t have his cane. 

“You don’t have your cane.” All these months, so much to talk about and you settle on this? UGH.

Frankie smiles, shaking his leg. “Nope. Just got rid of it a couple of weeks ago. Doctor said I still need to take it easy and to take breaks if I need it. But I’m healed enough to not need the cane. I mean, I won’t be walking Disney World anytime soon without it but…”

“That’s…good, Frankie. Really.”

“It is.”

An awkward silence passes between you. When did it get this hard to talk to him? 

You knew when. 

“How did you find-”

“Can we talk-”

You’d both spoken at the same time. Chuckling, the first layer of tension pops and you gesture to Frankie to go first. 

“Can we go somewhere to…to talk?”

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes and see hope there and it breaks you.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

Frankie smiles wide, trying to hide his excitement at your positive response. “Great! Do you uh..do you have a place in mind or?”

Standing, you grab your cup and toss it in the trash bin. “Yeah. I live just upstairs.”

“Oh.”

You turn to look at him. “Is that a problem?”

“Not..not for me but…is that ok? With you?”

“I suggested it, Frankie.”

You notice some tears welling in his eyes when you say his name, but he quickly coughs, rubbing at his face to clear them. 

“Then uh, lead the way.”

Frankie follows you upstairs and into your apartment, looking around as he kicks off his boots at the door. Walking into your kitchen area, you pour both of you a glass of lemonade, walking back to hand him his. He takes a sip, smacking his lips as he does and you hide your smile behind your glass at this gesture, memories of all the times he’d done it before flooding your brain. He looks around the room and spots the loveseat under the window, sitting when you gesture to it. It dawns on you now that you have no idea how to navigate this. Were you still together? Had he found someone else? You hadn’t, but it had been 7 months. 

You sit on the couch next to him, leaving as much space as you could between you both. Setting your glass down on the side table, you shift your body towards him and wait.

Frankie clears his throat, fishing something from his pocket. “I’m 7 months clean.” He reaches out, turning his palm up, showing off his 7 months sober coin from Narcotics Anonymous. 

“Oh, Frankie! That’s amazing! I’m so pr-”

Frankie holds up a hand. “Please. Let me finish. Or I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.” He chuckles nervously and you pretend to lock your lips and stick the pretend key in your pocket.

“That night was…was rock bottom for me. I have no excuses for any of it. I fell back into old habits with the…with the coke and I knew exactly what I was doing. I guess my body did a detox when I was in the coma but my brain didn’t get the memo.”

He pauses to take a sip of lemonade, clearing his throat as he sets the glass back on the table, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Going back to Flyboyz…I knew where it might end up. Rick was my dealer. I told him I was over that part of my life but..one day he offered it to me and I-I caved. I became worried that you would find out, that anyone would find out that I was back on the drug that caused the crash that nearly killed me, and so..I would lash out. I am so sorry for yelling at you or accusing you of things I know you weren’t doing. You didn’t deserve that.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming his nerves to continue. 

“I knew I was in too deep but I just couldn’t bring myself out of it. I told myself in the beginning it would just be to celebrate big occasions, then it was just when I had a hard week, then a rough day, then every day. I would even get high just before coming home to you-”

“Oh that’s why you seemed extra…enthusiastic some days?”

Frankie nods, still not quite meeting your eyes. “Yes. And I’m so sorry. I had told myself I wouldn’t bring it home, but then there I was, high as shit and fucking you and I hated myself. But then I’d do it all over again. I guess maybe I thought I couldn’t get caught? Or maybe I hoped I would get caught? I’m not sure that makes sense.”

He pauses again to take another drink, his hands shaking slightly as he picks up the glass and sets it back down. 

“And then Elizabeth. I heard your concerns but I thought you were the one being worried for nothing. I feel nothing for her and I couldn’t understand why you didn’t see that. Why you couldn’t see that I love you with all that I am. I ignored the fact that Elizabeth had been the one to encourage the drugs when we were married and she definitely didn’t stop them now. Her and Rick are friends,” Frankie answers your questioning look. “Yeah, I know. So many red fucking flags, right?”

He sighs, rubbing his large hand across his face. “But that night, at Flyboyz? When I told you that Rick and I were celebrating my license being reinstated? I knew there would be drugs and drinking. I didn’t expect Elizabeth to be there but Rick had invited her. When I asked her why she’d even want to be there, she said something about supporting the father of her child or some shit. I was so focused on my next high, I didn’t even question it. And then I got out my kit and Rick started talking about some new repair method for the helios and I was so involved, I just tossed my kit on the table. I had no clue what was happening. I didn’t even realize Elizabeth was sitting next to me until…”

Silence passes between you for a few moments. 

“...until you said my name. I-I really thought you had caught me getting high, that I was finally outed, but then I saw your eyes not on the table but next to me and that’s…that’s when I felt…and then you were running away, and I was shoving Elizabeth away and trying to catch up to you. Cutting my new tires was definitely a move I didn’t expect from you.”

“I didn’t want you catching up to me.” You say it so quiet but to Frankie, it’s like you yelled it.

“I-I wouldn’t have wanted me either. I went back inside and got into it with Elizabeth. Rick eventually let me borrow his keys and I went all over town looking for you. When I saw your things gone, I figured you had gone with Santi so I flew to Colombia-”

“You flew to Colombia??”

Frankie nods. “I thought, for a moment, that you had gone with Santi. Actually with Santi.”

When you say nothing, Frankie looks up at you. “It…was offered. And to be honest Frankie, I thought about it. But then I realized I was just hurt and I would be acting out of anger and hurt and that wasn’t fair to Santi or myself.”

“That’s basically what he told me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you had you gone with him.” the last part he speaks quietly, nearing whispering it into his glass he picked up before taking another sip. You say nothing. 

“But…when I got back, I remembered a conversation we’d had about places we’d like to live and I remembered you’d said Friday Harbor.. So I hopped on a plane. I had no clue where to look outside of the island, and no hotel is going to give me guest information. So I was walking around and I saw a flyer for a farmer’s market. Figured I’d try there.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. You were at that farmer’s market and you had sworn you’d seen him that day, but in the end thought it was just your emotions making you see things.

“I turned a corner and there you were, in that sundress I love? With a big hat? You had some carrots in your hand.”

Tears start falling from your eyes as you realize Frankie had remembered all of these small details about you, flew not just to Colombia but also here just to talk to you. But then he didn’t.

“Why..why didn’t you talk to me?”

Frankie smiles sadly. “Would you have wanted to talk to me?”

“No. I suppose not.”

“I-I also realized then that you deserved so much more. And Aurelia too. So I vowed to get my shit together. When I got home, I lined everything up for me being gone a bit and checked myself into rehab. I got out after a few months but I needed to stand on my own 2 feet before I even tried to talk to you. Fuck, I’d hurt you so bad and I just…” He sighs. “I don’t expect you to believe me about Elizabeth, so here.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a flashdrive, handing it to you. Hesitating for a moment, you take it, your fingers brushing against his warm hand for a brief moment, making your stomach flutter. 

“What is this?”

“Security camera footage. The main camera was disabled by Rick but he didn’t know the owners had put in new cameras because some animal had kept breaking in and making nests. I was too wrapped up in getting high to remember to turn it off too, but that worked out in my favor I guess.”

You look down at the flash drive and turn it in your hand. “What animal was it?”

Frankie smiles softly. “Racoons.”

He reaches for you but then stops, unsure if he has a right to touch you anymore. “Anyway, just watch, Hermosa. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or even want to talk to me beyond this. But you deserve an explanation, no matter how bad it makes me look. I’ll…I’ll leave you be.”

He stands, stretching a little before giving you a small smile. “I really am sorry, Hermosa. I am…I’m sorry.” He walks to the front door, closing it quietly behind him.

The room is filled with the sounds from the harbor a couple blocks away, the smell of coffee wafting up as it does every once in a while from the shop below. Taking a deep breath, you sit at the little kitchen island you’d made a small desk and pop the flash drive into your laptop. There’s only one file on it so you hover over it, hesitating before you double click to open it. 

It’s definitely camera footage. You can see the days work, Frankie helping out customers and then leaving to come back in. The setup of the party and Rick setting out the drinks and drugs, some other people coming in along with Elizabeth. Your blood boils seeing her but already you can see Frankie annoyed with her, his body language showing that he didn’t want her there or around him. The evening progresses and you swallow hard, seeing Frankie take lines off the table, sitting back and rubbing his finger along his gums. That’s why his mouth tasted weird. 

Frankie turns slightly, talking to Rick. That’s when you notice Elizabeth come and sit next to Frankie, slowly scooting closer and closer to him. Her hand starts to twirl the hair sticking out from under his cap and Frankie sort of shrugs, but doesn’t really make a move, too involved in the conversation he’s having. You watch, bile rising in your stomach as Elizabeth’s other hand starts to move up his thigh and slowly over to palm him, Frankie shifting only slightly, the only indication that he noticed anything was happening, but that was just an automatic reflex.

“Frankie?” 

You hear your own voice on the camera, Frankie’s head snapping in your direction and looking down at the table with fear in his eyes. A second later and he turns his head to the side, a look of sheer surprise and outrage on his face as he sees Elizabeth, shoving her hand away. He yells at her and jumps up, presumably following you out of the door. He comes back in a minute later, body language showing his anger, yelling at Elizabeth, telling her she had no right to touch him, to even be there, that he wanted to never see her outside of dropping Aurelia off and picking her up. That he would ask for supervised drop offs. That she’s only to contact him via a special co-parenting app unless it’s an emergency. That she ruined their relationship and then divorced him while in a coma, pawning his daughter off on his best friend. That she can fuck right off. Rick hands him his keys a short bit later and he’s gone, Elizabeth finally looking defeated.

He was right. He had been telling the truth when he said he didn’t know what Elizabeth was doing. You had thought he was telling the truth but couldn’t be sure, that seed of doubt having been planted there by Elizabeth herself, showing up to the house and staying with them, falling asleep on his couch, all of it. She was still trying to drive a wedge between you but this time it seemed because she finally realized what she had lost.

And then he flew to an entirely different country only to find out you weren’t there. He remembered a conversation you must have had when you were what, 23? About how much you’d love to live in Friday Harbor? And then he shows up, finds you, but then realizes he needs to get his shit together before he can ever hope to talk to you? And he does. He’s clean, his appearance verifies that. And then he gives you proof that he had not been doing anything with Elizabeth, that she was the bitch you always knew she was. 

You’re not sure what to do with all of this information, but you don’t want Frankie to leave. Something has to be said. You throw on your boots, grabbing your keys and throwing open the door, not entirely sure where to go. He’d mentioned just coming in off the ferry, so it’s possible he doesn’t have a car. 

Heading into all the shops in the vicinity, you still haven’t found Frankie. None of the closest hotels have seen a man fitting the description of Frankie, so you head towards the closest cafe, thinking he maybe stopped in for an early dinner. Glancing towards the docks, you see the little covered ticket office for the ferry and something tells you to check there. Crossing the street, you walk up to the office and peek inside, seeing no one. Remembering there was open seating around the back, you walk that direction and turn the corner, a pair of brown eyes snapping up to meet yours. 

“Hermosa?”

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide. “You have?”

“Yeah- wait. Why are you waiting here? You know the last ferry left like an hour ago, right?”

Frankie shrugs, glancing down before looking back up at you. “I meant to be on it.”

“You were going to just drop all that on me and leave?”

“No no not like that! I just…I didn’t want to invade your space any longer than I needed to.”

You nod, looking at him and realizing that he only had a small backpack with him. You’d assumed he had a suitcase somewhere but he meant it when he said he didn’t intend to stay. 

“Are you seeing someone else?” You blurted out, unable to hold back that question any longer.

“I- what? No. No, I’m…I’m not. Are…are you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Ok. G-good.”

You take another few seconds to think about what you wanted to do next. 

“Come on.” You jerk your head back towards the town. “Let’s go.”

Frankie’s eyes are wide like a puppy. “Wh-what?”

“Frankie, I’m not going to let you sit in the ferry station all night.”

“Oh. No, I mean, I can go get a room-”

“This is a small town, Frankie. Most of the front desks are closed by now. Especially since it’s off season.”

“Oh. I-I can stay here. It’s ok-”

“Come on, Frankie. It gets cold at night. I’m not letting you freeze out here.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

Sighing, you walk over to him, slowly extending your hand towards him. He looks up at you, eyes wide and round, and he slowly puts his hand in yours. The moment he touches you, your body relaxes, like the tension that had been there for the last several months just left your body. If Frankie feels it too he doesn’t let on, and you think maybe you’ve overstepped. So you drop his hand and gesture towards the direction of your place. A look passes over Frankie’s face but then it’s gone and he’s following you. Once you get inside, Frankie kicks off his boots and hangs his jacket on a hook on the wall, setting his backpack down on the floor. 

“Hungry?” You ask. 

“Yeah, actually. I meant to get something to eat but I was trying to make the ferry.”

“I’ll make us something. And don’t say you don’t want to put me out, I’m hungry too.”

Tossing together a quick charcuterie board, you hand him a glass of sweet tea, sliding the board across the breakfast bar. Frankie and you settle into polite conversation, each trying not to overstep the other. 

Why is this so hard?

After dinner, you disappear into the bathroom, putting on your pajamas and getting ready for bed. When you come out, Frankie is sitting on the loveseat, nervously tapping his foot on the ground. Crossing the room, you sit on the bed, swinging your legs over to lay on top of the sheets, your upper half leaning against the headboard. 

“Why are you way over there?” You ask.

“I uh…I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

You roll your eyes. “Frankie, I can’t even lay on that couch and I’m shorter than you. Come on, you can have this side.” You pat the bed next to you and watch as his eyes widen.

“I-no. Are…are you sure?”

“Of course. I don’t want you to hurt your hip. And plus, you can see the tv better.”

“Oh well, in that case.” Frankie chuckles, a nervous tone to it as he gets up, crossing the room to sit on the bed, pausing to start fiddling with his belt. He slides his jeans off, standing there in his boxers as he pulls off his outer flannel, revealing an undershirt. He notices you watching and asks:

“Is this ok?”

“I-y-yeah. It’s fine.”

Frankie sets his clothes down and sits on the bed, sliding his legs down and stretching out. 

“This bed is pretty comfy.”

“Yeah. I bought it. The mattress they had sucked.”

You turn on the TV, flipping through the channels and putting on some reality show that Frankie was secretly obsessed with. His arm lay next to him on the bed and you glance down at it, almost unconsciously moving your arm towards him. Your fingers are right next to his, your heart is beating through your chest and you swear he can hear it. Reaching your pinkie finger out, you gently touch it to his own, not daring to look at him, fully giving him time to move and pull away. But he doesn’t. Frankie’s pinkie finger slowly moves over yours and links with it, like you were making a silent pinkie promise. You stay like that for several minutes, your mind racing, not taking in a word of the show. 

After a few minutes, you feel Frankie start to unlink his finger from yours and your heart sinks a little, until you feel his fingers creeping across the top of your hand, lacing them with yours and squeezing your hand. His skin is warm, soft, despite the callouses he has from piloting the helicopters, but it’s familiar. It’s Frankie. 

Another several minutes passes and Frankie slowly picks up your hand, shifting his hand under yours, lacing your fingers together as he brings the back of your hand up to his lips, placing a very gentle kiss there. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, your chest heaving from holding back, when he speaks, soft and low. 

“There was never anyone else.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you, eyes heavy with love and admiration, but also hesitation and worry, like he’s afraid he’s overstepping. 

“It’s always been you Frankie.”

He gently pulls you to him, holding your face close to his but pausing to take a look at you. His eyes roam over your face, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently brushes some hair from your face.

“I am so sorry, Hermosa. We’ve missed out on so much time because of me-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, feeling a few tears fall down your face at finally kissing the man you’ve been in love with since you were 19. He kisses you back, softly parting your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth. He cradles the back of your head in one large hand, holding you to him as you gently make out. Soft moans and a whimper escapes Frankie and he breaks the kiss, pressing your forehead to his.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“For a moment, I thought I’d lost you too.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you continue to make out for several minutes before you pull back, kissing the top of his nose as you lay down, cuddling into him, Frankie wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close to him. You fall asleep like that and wake up the next day still entangled in each others arms. Frankie is already awake when you stir, tracing little circles on your skin. 

“Hey Frankie?”

“Mmm?”

“Let’s go home.”

—----

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Chapter 17>>

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 20 - Trapped, Trapped, Run

The new and improved version of duck duck goose.

Masterlist - Part 19

Content: (Heavy one today) Werewolf whumpee, human whumper, cuts and bruising, tormented, side character death, (somewhat graphic and definitely gross) creepy whumper, vampire whumpee, fae whumper, angst, emotional manipulation, implied noncon/dubcon

.............................................................

“Voicebox, heart, liver….. Just have to be patient, Jack. You can be patient. Eyes, skin….. It will all be yours. All of it.”

Jack shifted where he crouched, invisible in the mists as he watched Hyrum. The werewolf pup started circling the ritual place, looking for a weakness to escape through. As if Jack would allow that. Years of preparation would not be wasted here. 

“Voicebox, heart, liver,” Jack murmured, fingers twitching as he cast a wind to buffet Hyrum. His lips twitched as the pup stumbled, arms curled around his bare and bleeding torso. His eyes were so wide that Jack could see the whites from here. It made him hungry. “Eyes and skin. You can’t keep them much longer pup. They’re mine. They’re all mine. This land will be mine. That queen will be mine.”

He flicked a finger again, the gravel rising in waves and sending Hyrum to the ground, struggling to get back up. 

Jack laughed lowly, entertained for now by tormenting the werewolf until he was too exhausted to keep defending himself. His concentration was broken by the sound of wings above. 

He let the gravel fall still again as he looked up, seeing the shape above him. It appeared to be a fae with a hawk-like outline above him. 

Jack gritted his teeth. He could hide himself from the pup in the ritual circle, but he couldn't keep hidden from the fae above him. 

The fae whirled around, flying quickly away. Jack hissed to himself, standing up and dashing after the fae, gathering his energy and concentration as his ragged coat flew about behind him. He lifted his hand, growling ancient words of power, ill gotten and hard won, and the fae screeched, falling out of the sky. 

To the fae’s credit, he rolled smoothly as he hit the ground, bouncing back up to his feet and running across the hills. 

“No you don’t, pest,” Jack hissed. “I am the ruler of these lands? Don’t you understand that!?”

He threw his hand out, mushroom flesh enveloping the bird man’s legs. He screeched as he fell to the blue grass and thrashed as Jack caught up, straddling him. 

Jack laughed maniacally as he tore the fae apart with long, jagged nails, blood and ichor welling up under his fingers as he ripped and shredded flesh and feathers alike, the dying sounds of the fae singing to him like a siren’s song. 

When he was done, the pile of flesh, blood, and feathers was still, killed by the dark magic that infused every inch of Jack’s body. He panted, licking scraps of ribboned flesh off his fingers. 

“A scout,” he said thoughtfully to himself. “From the queen? She will know what I intend to do. Not much time, then. Not much time at all.”

He stood up, stalking back through the mists towards the ritual place. 

“The pup is mine. No more games. No more waiting.”

He stopped in place when he could see the ritual place again. It seemed there would be more waiting. The pup sat at the top of one of the tall obelisks, shrouded with the magic there, unintentionally finding the best place to be protected from Jack’s magic, even if he couldn’t get down the other side. 

Jack snarled, stalking up to the obelisk. “Get down here!”

Hyrum looked down, face set in a hard, fierce expression. 

“We’ll do this the hard way, then,” Jack said in a low tone. 

…………………………………………………

Ephraim had been in the bathroom a long time after Benny had given him new clothing and showed him the way silently. Ephraim had been fuming the whole way, so Benny decided to stay quiet, but he couldn’t take it anymore. 

He knocked on the door and cleared his throat. “Hey, Ephraim? Can we talk?”

There was silence for a long moment on the other side. 

“Eef?”

“Oh, you want to talk to me now?” Ephraim replied, sulkily on the other side over the sound of the shower. 

“Well…. Yeah,” Benny said nervously. “I’m sorry, really. I know I made a mistake now…. Are you done? Can you come out here to talk?”

“No.”

“Ephraim! Come on. I don’t remember you being so sulky-”

“I have had a very bad day today, Benny. I don’t want to talk about this.”

‘Benny.’ So he wasn’t too mad… hopefully. 

“I-I know. You were here for another kid, right?”

“..... Goldenrod. His name is Goldenrod. He’s a werewolf pup I’ve kind of adopted.”

Benny tapped his fingers gently against the door. “What’s he like?” Who did Ephraim choose to have live in his house after Benny was taken? 

“Quiet. He’s been coming out of his shell lately. He’s a very sweet pup. Why do you want to know?”

“Just… cause. I missed you.”

Ephraim hummed. “Not enough, apparently.”

“Oh, come on, Eef!” Benny said, exasperated now. “You know the fae are complicated! Living with them is complicated! Being married to one even more so!”

“You’re smart, Benny. You could have figured it out.”

Benny felt something he hadn’t experienced in a while. Something he had been ignoring, rather. Guilt curled in his stomach. There wasn’t much to feel guilty about living in the fae courts. Everyone acted according to their nature and everyone expected as such. No need for guilt here. He’d forgotten how unpleasant it felt. He could have found a way. The courts had made him lazy. His wife had made him feel whole and complete, like there was nothing to worry about or work on. It was the way of the courts. He was a little startled to remember how much he had hated that at first, being stuck on such a plateau of growth, but he’d just gotten used to it after a while. 

“I’ll message Margie as soon as we find your pup,” Benny said, more of a promise to himself than to Ephraim. “I promise.”

“Was your wife keeping you from coming back? From sending anything?”

“In the beginning, yeah,” Benny said, another uncomfortable twinge in his stomach. He didn’t like being reminded of the time he spent as her pet rather than as her beloved husband. He didn’t like being reminded that his wife didn’t treat everyone well all of the time. 

“You never thought of escaping?”

“I can’t escape. I ate their food. It’s-”

“You never tried?”

Benny felt another sinking sensation in his guts. No. He never had. He’d assumed that to be the truth and made the best of the situation. 

Ephraim seemed to sense the answer. “I’m done with this conversation. Leave me be, Benny.”

“Come on, Eef. I’m sorry, okay? This place has an effect on a person! Okay, I admit I might not have been strong enough to fight the effect, but you can’t seriously blame me, can you?”

The silence stretched on, grating on Benjamin’s ears. “I did miss you, really…. Time moves really weird here… like it does in those books you liked to get from the merchants. The fantasy ones. I still remember all of the books you read to me when I was a fledgling. That really helped, you know. You’d think you’d had a fledgling before me with how well you took care of me.”

He hoped the nostalgia would draw Ephraim back into the conversation, but the shower sounds continued on regardless. 

“I think I’ll be able to convince my wife to send you home before you need anything to eat,” Benny said. “And I’ll see about visiting, I probably have been here for too long.”

He waited for a response, even an angry one. He just wanted Ephraim to say something. 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Benny said, suddenly feeling lonely and scared, like when he first arrived in this place. “Talk to me, please?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when cool arms wrapped around his torso from behind. His wife rested her chin on his shoulder, humming softly as her antlers brushed up against his cheek. She was wearing her smaller form for him. He’d mentioned once that he’d always thought he’d marry someone shorter than him and she started wearing this form whenever they were alone after that. Her horns were much simpler and her body just a bit plumper, like the healthy women back in his village rather than the sickly stick-thin figure she presented to the courts. 

“Hello love. Why are you talking to an empty room?” she purred.

“What?”

He pushed the door open, no regards for privacy anymore only to see Ephraim’s tattered clothing on the ground, the shower still running, and the window open and swaying guiltily in the breeze. 

“I think he’s gone to find his pup,” she hummed. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. We should go have dinner, my love.”

“I have to go after him,” Benny said, trying to gently peel Inermis’s arms off of himself. 

“Come now, stay, Benny. He can take care of himself. I can send more fae to help him,” she said, pouting and refusing to let go. “Come to the bedroom with me? We can have some fun.”

But Benny wasn’t listening to her, the worry and guilt growing in his stomach as he tried to free himself from her grasp. “Let me go! I need to go help him! There’s a sorcerer out there. Why aren’t you worried?”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” she said, moving like a snake to grab each of his wrists in an unbreakable grasp. “He’ll be fine. Come with me, please?”

Benny felt some of that pain in his stomach drift away, a comfortable mollifying mist falling over him despite the bruising grip she had on him. He nodded faintly, taking one last look at the open window before she dragged him off towards their bedroom. 

………………………………..

The escape down the jagged side of the castle had been somewhat arduous and painful, but Ephraim had landed at the bottom, clean though cut up and aching. Still, he rolled up his sleeves, made sure his hair was pulled back after that slide and tumble down and took off across the landscape towards the smell of the vampire pit. If he could find that, he could find his way back to the entrance to the fae wilds and then go the direction Jack had taken Goldenrod. 

“I’m coming,” Ephraim panted, running faster as he left the silent cobbled courtyard and got into the soft grass. “I’m coming!”

Part 21

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba

[soratsuart]

QSMP Day 36 Lore Summary

Guys. If you've seen clips you know what's coming, so I apologize beforehand for whatever the hell is what you're about to read 💀💀💀

The day started decently normal, with few people in to do the daily quests. Things start getting interesting when the Theory Trio logs in. By now, Maxo has his night club ready so they + Roier go over the plan to interrogate Quackity. They eventually get Fit and Vegetta to join in the plan.

When Quackity joins, they invite him to come to Las Casualonas, where they make him lower his guard by having him enjoy music and get drunk and, after a while, Vegetta and Roier disguised as "La Mamada" and Melissa respectively take Quackity to another room. They start talking about hating the eggs and wanting to kill them all, and while Quackity is initially taken aback, he ends up rambling about his supposed plan to kill the eggs starting with Chayanne. This would turn out to be a lie to impress the girl, but it turned against Quackity as the other were watching everything through the cameras.

After a while the entire group comes in and reveal to Quackity that this was all a trap to get evidence against him, which Quackity is shocked to hear. They tell him they are going to hold a trial against him and execute him afterwards, and Quackity panics, trying to defend himself and begging them to let him go, which they eventually do.

Quackity runs to hide inside a random building and starts crying, lamenting everything that had happened because now everyone in the island is against him. I would also like to point out that Roier knows Quackity is innocent, but this is his revenge for when Quackity sided with Spreen and let him kill both Roier and his dog. After a while Slime arrives and tries to console him, as he had been in the club and saw everything happen, but he got mad when he saw Quackity had a photo of Mariana in a dress and I believe Quackity logged off before they could clear things up, so now Slime is sad Quackity thinks he is also against him.

After that Slime went with Wilbur, who has been hired by Bad to be an impartial judge on the day of the trial, and they along with Bad and Foolish wrote a Constitution...? For rainbow people since they all ended up looking like rainbow. After that they all went their separate ways with Wilbur and Slime going to Wilbur's place, while the others tried to complete their quests. Foolish met with Roier and they decided to meet up later, but then the worst happened.

Foolish had the great idea to leave to go to the bathroom in real life and leave the boat he and Leo were traveling in keep moving in automatic, telling Leo to protect the boat. Leo started shooting at something off scream which according to her was a shark and then... A fucking cachalot whale she accidentally hit killed Leo before Foolish could come back. Leo is now in hardcore mode fellas. And Foolish had Bad roleplay as Vegetta to practice how to tell him about Leo loosing a life. That was fun at least.

While all of this was happening Wilbur and Slime were talking about Flippa and Tilín's deaths, and Slime had to tell Wilbur what happened to them and also that he still wants to revive Flippa because of the deal he had with Angel!Rubius. This is also how Wilbur finds out there's an angel because he still hasn't met Rubius btw.

On his part Roier went to check on Spreen since he was dying a lot, and he showed him the night club since Spreen wanted to see it. He also disguised himself as Melissa to talk to Spreen and flirt with him, but Spreen pretty much didn't like it and when Roier "came back" he told him he didn't want to come back to the club ever again. According to him he is "uncomfortable with woman" and "already engaged to Sally from Cars".

They left after that, and met with Gegg, since Slime had decided to transform after Wilbur left, eventually following Roier home. I think he and Wilbur had just had a conversation about Slime being himself so others like him instead of being Gegg, but I honestly am too tired to search that right now. The point is, Gegg and Bobby have a conversation about Slime himself, and eventually Bobby decides to forgive Slime for killing Tilín as he understands it was an accident and he doesn't want to be angry when he knows he'll be leaving soon. (Pain)

I think (big emphasis on think) that's all that happened. I've been writing this for the past two hours so if anything else happened... I'm sorry I couldn't find it? Anyway, yeah, enjoy the summary!

[philomenie]

MOON HILL

4 Beings from a different time, a different world than today. Rivals, friends, allies from the beginning of time. 4 magical beings, long separated, now reunited to save what means the most to them. Moon Hill

Nicholas: Peuchen, vampire-like winged serpent, demon Joakim: Fenris, Fenrir, wolf-like demigod Nick: Kerberus, hellhound Noah: Yokai, demon, Chi o nomu hito, blood-drinker, also Kyuketsuki, vampire

CN Fantasy, Mystery, Mention of Blood, Torture, Killing, Betrayal

FIVE

Reader When Elin leaves the bathroom, Skadi is waiting for her. "Are you going to warn me now too?" "I don't have to warn you, I think you know exactly how risky everything is!" Elin looks at her closely, "Skadi, you're not hiding anything from me, are you? I mean nothing more?" Skadi sighs, "I have a hunch, but no proof, what I do know is that you must be directly descended from the first Völva!" "And what do you suspect?" Skadi chews on her lower lip, thinking about how to tell Elin.

"I'm waiting, Skadi, and I've run out of patience! I want answers!" "I suspect you could be the reincarnation of Hella!" "WHAT?" Elin didn't suspect that now. "Your effect on Noah is just like Hella's, Folio told me all about it. Even your connection to Joakim, say you're attracted to him, right?" "I .... " Elin swallows "Attracted.... I feel comfortable with him, safe, like I've known him for ages. The longer he's here, the stronger the feeling becomes. When I touch him..." she breaks off. Skadi nods thoughtfully "That would fit. Hella and Joakim loved each other very much!" "You mean that's not real? Not my real feelings?" "No, I don't mean that, your feelings are real, your blood remembers him! But that doesn't mean you're at his mercy!" "And him?" Skadi shakes her head, "I don't know and I can't ask him, I think he'd kill me on sight if he had the chance!" "Understandable, I saw what he suffered, felt his pain, how he gave up!" Elin's voice harsh. Skadi looks to the ground "I have to live with this guilt, I can only hope he can forgive me one day. If not, I'll have to accept it, but I won't die without a fight!" "You really think he would kill you?" Elin asks incredulously. "Elin, you've never seen him at full strength, if he's still changing, the Fenris wolf is.... Why do you think Odin wanted to subdue him and then, when that didn't work, render him harmless forever?" Elin swallows. "He's powerful, he's strong and he's a threat to his enemies! You haven't seen them all shapeshifted.... They may seem harmless to you in their human form, but they're not! I know they won't harm a hair on your head, they'll defend you to the death, but don't forget, they're all immortal creatures who have been on this earth for eons!" "Just like you....." Skadi sighs "Just like me, yes!" "As a child, my mother told me the old sagas and stories, the Edda.... I can't remember everything. Especially not about Ragnarök. That's why I'm asking you Skadi, is there anything else I need to know that's important?"

Skadi looks at her sadly, "Yes Elin, there is something else. Something that you probably won't like at all and was another reason for Odin's actions!" "Tell me, everything!" "The Fenris wolf triggers the twilight of the gods, the world conflagration, by killing Odin. He himself is killed by Odin's son Vidar.... That's what the Edda predicts." Elin stares at Skadi, stunned. "But I thought the Nothing threatened everything? That the shrine is under threat, that the imbalance will trigger the end of the world!" "I suspect that the Nothing could take hold of Joakim and use him.... That's why I was prepared to keep him imprisoned!" "But it was your fault that the power imbalance happened in the first place, wasn't it, because you betrayed him?" Elin gets louder and louder.

"Elin, yes, it's that complicated!" "No, it's not complicated, if you had left him alone, nothing would ever have happened!" "You don't know that, the Edda says it just like that.... That it's already underway now, a complication!" "Complication?" Elin gasps. "By keeping him prisoner, you've forced it, damn it! If he's so dangerous and powerful, why didn't you leave him alone?" Skadi lowers her eyes guiltily. "It was a mistake... I..…"

But Elin has heard enough, angrily turns around and leaves Skadi standing there. Elin slips back into the guest room, Joakim is still asleep. She quietly lies back down next to him and just as she is about to take his hand again, he is startled out of his sleep and sits up, his hands raised in defense. With glittering eyes, he stares at Elin, who sits up. "WHO are you?!" Elin shakes her head "I don't know anymore!" She feels tears gathering in her eyes. Joakim slowly lowers his arms and Elin can see his carotid artery pulsating. She carefully places a hand over his. He flinches at the touch, stares at her hand and swallows. "I've felt it too, ever since you were brought here. Gently at first, then getting stronger and stronger. With every touch. It pulses through my veins. I can't explain it, but it's as if I've always known you....." Joakim looks at her wildly, "Hella?!" his voice dies away. Elin shrugs her shoulder, "I don't know, her blood, her spirit.... Something in me remembers you and something in you remembers me, or my blood!" Tears are now streaming down her face. Joakim is still staring at her in disbelief, too afraid to admit the thought. Afraid of feeling nothing but pain again. "It can't be, Hella is dead... I...." Abruptly, he pulls his hand back from her. "I'll go, if that's what you want!" Elin offers. Joakim nods silently and looks away.

Elin leaves the room and lets her tears run free. Damn, why does it hurt her so much when she doesn't even know him. In the kitchen, Skadi and Folio prepare breakfast and Elin leaves the house unnoticed by either of them. Thor and Freya follow her like shadows. She would love to ride out with Asa right now, but Noah and Nicholas..... are in the stables. Will she manage to get her horse and bridle unnoticed? Don't vampires sleep during the day? Oh damn, she has to try! Elin leaves her dogs waiting for her outside the stables, first fetches the saddle and halter, then Asa from her stall. With enough distance to the stable, she saddles her horse, mounts and rides off into the forest, Thor and Freya at her side again. Noah He has rested worse, but also better. He is irritable, he also realizes that he needs blood, he needs to nourish himself. It's broad daylight, but fortunately no direct sun, it's cloudy. Direct sun does not kill him, but it and the heat weaken him and make his transformation more difficult. That is why it prefers the night and coolness.

Nicholas, who is still sleeping on his lounger, has no problem at all with the sun, in fact he loves it. He's more bothered by the cold and wet. Noah twists one corner of his mouth in amusement, ironic that they are limited by such mundane things as sun, cold, wet and heat. Folio and Joakim, on the other hand, don't have to struggle with these things at all. He briefly considers waking Nicholas to go hunting with him, but then abandons the idea. He prefers to let him sleep, to rest. Nicholas and he can also eat human food, but that makes them both rather sluggish. Without blood, they are weakened and do not have their full strength, which they need now. Noah quietly leaves the chamber. When he looks up, he sees that the stable door is open. His gaze wanders over the stalls. Damn, her horse is missing. Surely she won't be foolish enough to ride out alone? Noah's anger boils up. He is in the house in a flash. He hears voices in the kitchen. "Where's Elin?" Folio and Skadi flinch, startled. "At Joakim's!" Skadi is the first to find her voice again. Noah growls out... "Her horse is gone!" "That can't be, I saw her go into his room!" Noah only half hears because he is already on his way to Joakim's room, he pulls open the door, looks around. Joakim sits up immediately, knowing the look "What happened?" "Where is she?" "Elin?" "Yes, Elin, she's not here.... Her horse is gone and she's not here!"

Joakim groans out, "Damn!" "What did you do!" Noah growls, his eyes now blood red. Folio joins in "She's not in the house, I've looked in all the rooms, her bloody dogs are gone too!" Noah snarls, Joakim closes his eyes. "I'm going to find her! Wake up Nicholas, Folio!" Noah's orders short. Joakim wants to get up "I'm coming with you!" "YOU stay here, I have no idea what you did to her or what you said to her, but she's gone now! So you're not going to do anything!" Joakim winces, staring angrily at Noah, "I'm coming with you, you're not going to look for her on your own!" "You're not a help, you're more of a hindrance!" and with that, Noah is gone. "What did you say to her?" Folio's voice calm. "I... She, Folio she's.... I... " Joakim can only stammer. Folio nods, "Her blood, isn't it, I can feel it too, it's like that time...." Joakim nods silently. "Skadi thinks Elin might be a reincarnation of Hella..." Joakim's head snaps up in a flash "SKADI?" he gasps. "Bloody...." Folio grits his teeth. "You're not going to tell me THAT THIS BITCH IS HERE! HERE WITH YOU??" "Joakim, please, calm down....."

But he doesn't want to, too much anger has built up, too much has happened, not tearing Folio's throat out has already taken all his strength, but the fact that Skadi is here is too much. With a furious growl, Joakim lunges at Folio, pulling him off his feet. Folio is stunned by the force and power that is back in his friend. Frozen, he looks at the face distorted by rage, sees the eyes glowing red, hears the deep growl coming from Joakim's throat.

Noah looks around outside the house, where could she have gone? In all directions really... it would take too long to find her on his own. Damn, he needs the help of the others to find this stubborn woman. At the thought of Elin, he feels that sweet desire in his chest again, can feel her under his hands again. He growls, he must either continue to stay absolutely away from her, or he must have her, in any way he can think of, and yes, he can think of many ways to do that.... Noah is the first to wake Nicholas, who is immediately on his feet, his expression worried. "We have to find her, she's not safe alone. Who knows who's looking for us, and then we don't know if the Hollow is aware of her role." "Bloody hell I know! And that blasted wolf is to blame!" "What did he tell her?" "I don't know, but she disappeared after she was with him..... The look on his face when I confronted him.... Something's happened!" "Let's get Folio and Skadi, the four of us will probably find her quicker!" suggests Nicholas. "That was exactly my plan!" When they re-enter the house to get Folio and Skadi, they both realize that the situation has changed somewhat. Folio is lying on the ground, the Fenris wolf with glowing red eyes above him, its mouth around Folio's neck, ready to bite.

"Damn it, Joakim, not now!" Noah is indignant. WHERE IS SKADI! Joakim's voice in all their heads. "Joakim, please, let him go, we have to find Elin first, I know you want your revenge and we won't deny it to you, but not now!" Nicholas' calm voice seems to get through to the wolf, because he pulls away from Folio, growling. I'm coming with you, we'll find Elin and then I'll tear Skadi to pieces! Joakim's eyes glow even more than before. Folio has picked himself up from the ground, glaring at the Fenris wolf, "You won't kill her, I won't let you!" Joakim growls angrily at him. "Joakim....." Skadi steps into the hallway, a mistake. Blind with rage, Joakim lunges at the Asin, tearing her clothes to shreds with his claws, leaving deep gashes on her skin. Folio gasps and rushes after him to prevent the worst, beginning to transform in the process. Noah and Nicholas stare stunned at the scene before them. Joakim has Skadi in his clutches, all he has to do is bite, seal her fate. Folio leaps at his friend from behind, his heads bite into the wolf's back, causing it to yelp and loosen its bite around Skadi's neck. Skadi can then slip away downwards.

Panting, bleeding and with eyes wide open, she looks at her opponents. Joakim snaps at Folio's head, writhing, his claws tearing at the hellhound's chest. Noah finally breaks free from his stupor, grabs Folio and tries to pull him away, Nicholas tries to clutch Joakim. Both fight back vehemently, snatching and scratching. The four bodies are intertwined like a ball, Noah's and Nicholas' fangs extended, ready to bite. Joakim throws himself against the wall with Nicholas clinging to his side to get rid of him. Nicholas gasps in pain, loosens his grip and Joakim shakes him off. He bares his teeth and attacks Folio again with Noah on his back, biting into his shoulder and catching Noah, who sinks his fangs into the Fenris wolf's neck with a snarl. Driven by the pain, Noah transforms, his limbs stretch, become stronger, his clothes tear and fall from his body, his skin snow-white, blood-red, black-rimmed eyes with a piercing gaze. His jaw jumps forward, he tears open his deadly mouth and bites again. Joakim howls in pain. Nicholas has also shifted and shoots like an arrow between Noah and Joakim, preventing Noah from tearing open the Fenris wolf's throat. Noah lets go. Gasping and bleeding, the four stare at each other in rage.

[sickficideas]

understood || higuchi & akutagawa sickfic

ao3! 2.7k emeto/graphic depictions of illness sicktember 2023, day 4: hiding an illness (unintentionally)

Ichiyo has a very difficult time differentiating between the side effects of her stress and oncoming illness, but regardless, it's something she has to keep to herself at work.

"You're going, nee-san? Damn, we didn't even get invited," Tachihara huffs as Ichiyo checks her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

"You're a commander of a hit squad. You don't have any business attending something like this," she groans. Really, it's just an excuse to mess with Tachihara. It would have been a different story if Gin had said something about it. "Why are you in here, again? This is the girl's restroom."

Tachihara's busy digging some dirt from underneath his nails. "Yeah, yeah. You know you'd be bored out of your mind without me here, but whatever."

"Bored?" she scoffs. In reality, she's running off of a half hour of sleep.

Akutagawa told her about this banquet they have to attend last night before they parted ways. It's something he's known about for months and really has no interest in whatsoever, but apparently, the boss requested his presence there several times.

Akutagawa didn't mean any harm by telling her last minute. Surely, it's not a big deal to him, but to her, it's insane. In any situation she's in, she's a direct representation of Akutagawa. Her appearance, her behavior, everything that can be seen. She would personally rather die than make him look bad.

"Aww, you wish I was comin' with?" Tachihara snickers.

Ichiyo doesn't deny it. Really, the idea of going there as the only one representing Akutagawa makes her feel nauseous. She’s been nauseous all day because of it, and thinking about it more makes her gut churn. "Can you?"

"I'm just a lowly commander of the Port Mafia's most elite hit squad, remember? I don't belong in fancy places like that. I might just go crazy and kill everybody, who knows?" Tachihara teases.

Ichiyo frowns. "I did not mean it like that."

"Good, 'cause if you did, you'd be talkin' smack about Akutagawa, too. You know he'd be the first to do something crazy like that."

Ichiyo glares at him. "Tachihara, that is -"

"So inappropriate! Don't talk about your superior like that when he isn't here to defend himself!" Tachihara says in a mocking, high-pitch tone that does not sound like her at all, and he ends it with a stupid mischievous grin, like he’s proud of himself. He definitely said what she was going to say.

Ichiyo remembers why Tachihara goes on her nerves so much.

"Just messin' with you,” he says, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter. “Bet it’d be more fun with me there, though.”

“How many times are you going to tell me you’re jealous, Tachihara?” Ichiyo huffs. She feels her stomach churn again and she can’t hold back a groan back that time. She drops her mascara and overlaps her hands to press against her tummy with a pained moan.

Tachihara tilts his head, a brow raised.

“I don’t feel good,” she whines, a little panicked by how suddenly it’s come on. She drops one hand to brace the counter and presses a little harder with the other, worried she’s going to throw up right now. She lets up a watery burp into her closed mouth before she breathes out. “I’m nervous, I…”

“Hey, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Tachihara says, hopping off the counter and laying a hand on her back. It’s comforting. She expected Tachihara to sit there and laugh at her nearly puking from her anxiety, but it’s nice to know he’d rather comfort her. She feels a little better. She tries to swallow back the taste of stomach acid in her mouth. “You don’t need me there. It’ll be quick and easy.”

“Yeah…quick and easy…”

…

She really wishes Tachihara were here right now.

There’s hundreds of people here. Hundreds of people so high up in the Port Mafia’s ranks that she’s never been permitted to meet them. People with so much money that Ichiyo could never possibly see them in public. She has a duty to represent her superior here, and any slip-up would be reflected back on Akutagawa. To the mafia, Ichiyo is not Ichiyo. Ichiyo is an extension of Akutagawa.

“Are you alright?” Akutagawa asks her quietly, his eyes darting over in her direction as the enter the banquet hall. He’s wearing clothes he looks rather uncomfortable in, and he looks nervous himself, but she thinks it’s because he was asked to remove his coat.

“Oh, I’m fine. Yes,” she answers awkwardly. She’s definitely not alright. She’s overwhelmed as all hell and her stomach hurts a lot more than it should. Concerningly so. She sneaks a hand over her side and presses into her stomach for a moment, wondering if some pressure would help relieve it, but it doesn’t. It feels the same way it did in the bathroom earlier, and she nearly threw up in that sink.

“We won’t be here long. I’ll see who I need to see and then we’ll leave,” he tells her as he starts to walk off. She’s very lucky that her superior doesn’t like these sort of things either, but she can’t seem to convince herself that that’s fast enough. As she starts to walk with him, her stomach turns, and she resists the urge to groan from the discomfort. She hates dealing with anxiety like this, but this seems even worse than usual.

She feels her stomach roll as Akutagawa starts up the grand staircase, and she realizes that this isn't just anxiety. She's actually going to throw up.

A hand flies up over her mouth and she's already on her way to the nearest exit, which has to be the balcony of the floor they’re on right now. It's really not an ideal place to get sick at all, but it's far better than it happening inside here, with all of these people. She has to hope with everything in her that Akutagawa doesn’t notice. She’d die if he followed her.

Her free arm is pressed against her stomach as she darts away from the banquet hall, and she feels something splash up into the back of her throat that she has to swallow back, which only makes her feel worse faster. It’s hot and thick, but she’s not too worried. This already made an appearance in her throat on their way over in the car, but she swallowed it back before it ended up in her lap. Maybe she’ll be able to keep it down. She just needs some fresh air.

She leans against the outside wall with a desperate sigh, trying to take in some deep breaths in a last-ditch effort to calm her very upset stomach, but she realizes it’s no use. She feels it splatter in her mouth and tries to swallow it back, but that only makes it worse.

“Urgh…hhUURP - ”

With her next exhale, a torrent of vomit spills down her front before there's anything she can do about it. A hand flies up to her mouth far too late to make a difference, but she’s so shocked that she’s actually thrown up that she does it without realizing, and the hot liquid bubbles up over her tongue and shoots out, spraying through the spaces between her fingers. It burns, and she can feel it in her nose. Her face feels so hot that it’s making her dizzy. She’s sure she’s getting stares, she hears whispering - she’s thrown up all over herself, she must look absolutely ridiculous.

A wet belch morphs into a desperate hiccup and tears start to flood her eyes. This is nightmarish. The thick, slimy vomit coating her hand starts to cool as it drips down into the puddle beneath her, and her stomach is still twisting and turning, threatening to bring up even more. Saliva pools in her mouth and she leans over the puddle with her mouth slightly agape as another wave of puke comes up, aided by a thick burp. She shouldn’t have eaten before she left, maybe it wouldn’t have all come up like this.

It feels like there’s cotton in her ears, but the clearest thing she hears is Akutagawa’s voice.

Oh god. No. No, him seeing her like this would be worse than this happening in front of everyone else in the banquet hall. She feels her head start to spin and she’s dizzy and lightheaded and even more nauseous than before.

“I - I’m so sorry, sir - hic - ”

The colors around her blended together as they spin and eventually turn black, and she loses her focus on Akutagawa’s voice.

…

When Ichiyo wakes up, her throat burns.

She hates throwing up. She’s trying to stop drinking because of it. That’s her first thought. Was she drinking? She’s not entirely sure, but she knows she’s in the infirmary at headquarters. That can’t be right. She’s always at her apartment when she’s hungover. There’s an IV catheter in her arm.

Her stomach feels sore and empty. She lets out a quiet, pained groan.

And then, everything comes back to her.

She has to imagine they gave her something for her far-too-intense nausea, or else, she would likely vomit in her lap just from the memory. She’s lost most of it, but she remembers just how much she threw up at a banquet so important Akutagawa took his coat off for it. She whines, turning her head, horrified to see the man she’s thinking of part the curtain and walk in.

His arms are tucked behind his back, looking as regal as ever, with an unreadable expression. Ichiyo almost bursts into tears on the spot. He must be furious with her. She can't even begin to imagine -

"How are you feeling?" he asks. It lacks most any sign of emotion, but he sounds sincere.

Ichiyo was fully prepared for him to scold her right away for what she’s done, but there’s not even a hint of that in his eyes. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking at all, but she dismisses the idea of getting yelled at, just for a moment. She's frozen for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide and unsure how to answer. She doesn't want to. She would much rather hide under her blanket and never be seen again.

But Akutagawa doesn't leave. He's still waiting for an answer. He tilts his head, silently asking if she heard him.

"I…I feel a bit better," she says, her voice scratchy. Honestly, she still feels rather nauseous, but not to the point where she’ll vomit. At least, right now. She assumes she was given medicine.

“The nurses told me you have a pretty severe case of the stomach flu," Akutagawa says. "I wasn't aware you weren't feeling well."

Ichiyo is relieved to hear that. It's much easier to accept that it wasn't a result of her anxiety, and rather an illness, because if her anxiety did that to her every time, she might really have to find a different line of work. It's good to know that Tachihara being there probably would have only made things worse.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't…realize I was that sick," she says meekly, her head bowed. Don't cry, she tells herself over and over. Her eyes burn. She gets the impression that he's not upset with her, not at all, really, but she can't shake the shame hanging over her shoulders.

"No one saw anything,” Akutagawa says. Clearly he understands just what’s on her mind. She didn’t see how many people were on the balcony when she ran out there. Could it be that really no one was there? She finds that to be impossible.

"No one?" Ichiyo mumbles. She lays a hand over her stomach as she tries to sit up. The pressure helps a little bit, this time, so she leaves it there, pressing a little harder to soothe herself. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "I'm sure."

"But…you saw, Akutagawa," she murmurs, feeling tears start to prick at her eyes. She doesn’t even want to imagine what happened after she passed out. She’s sure that was even worse than when she was awake. The thought of any of it makes her cringe.

He shrugs his shoulders. Of course, she’s almost in tears, and he’s completely unbothered. "I throw up every other week. It doesn't bother me."

Ichiyo is very aware of that. He seems to vomit so often that sometimes he just continues on like nothing happened, but she knows for a fact that it bothers him because he's so easily nauseous. Seeing someone else throw up almost always sets him off.

Her lip quivers at the idea that he suffered because of her. "I'm…I'm sorry, Akutagawa -"

"No apologizing, Higuchi. Don't waste your breath on pointless things like that," he says. It's really a very Akutagawa thing for him to say, but he's right. She can’t change anything now, no matter how embarrassing it may have been.

"What about the banquet?" she murmurs. Her eyes fail her and a tear slips from one, and she wipes it away with her hand, hoping that she's discreet enough to avoid Akutagawa catching on, but he's observant enough.

“Don’t worry about that. Take some time to rest. And come back whenever you feel well enough. No sooner than that. Understand?" he says. He sounds more like a nagging mother than how he usually sounds when he’s actually upset with her, but she hasn’t heard that particular tone of voice from him ever since that day she rescued him. "The banquet doesn't matter."

It really sounds like he means every word of that, and it almost sounds like that last line might also mean you're more important.

She lowers her gaze with a quiet exhale, her eyes tracing the folds in the blanket over her lap.

"Understood, sir."

…

It's only a few weeks later when Ichiyo finds herself in the reverse of her situation - Akutagawa throwing up into a tall trash can in a hallway at headquarters, on their way back to their break room. She’s not sure what set him off this time, if anything set him off at all. She had no idea he felt nauseous. He seemed completely fine to her before they got here.

It hurts her to listen to, the way his breath hitches and the way he's trying to hold back whimpers as he breathes in, hoping those open breaths will somehow quell his nausea. He grips the sides so hard his knuckles turn white. Usually, when he's suddenly sick like this, it is just that - sudden, and he walks it off. But right now, he's clearly not feeling well. Ichiyo feels even more empathetic than usual, after what happened to her a few weeks ago.

"You should rest for a while when we get back…" Ichiyo says, a gentle hand rubbing his back. She hears him moan from the pain and discomfort before a muffled burp brings up another wad of stomach bile and saliva. He breathes heavily over it for a while, seemingly without any intention of answering her, which isn't surprising.

"I'm okay," he murmurs eventually, despite everything. He tries to stand himself up straight, but he's very obviously light headed. She's surprised he doesn't pass out right away, but her reflexes are ready to catch him in case he does. "We have…we have work to do."

"Please rest for a while. We can continue working when you feel well enough," she says, trying to mirror his advice from a few weeks ago. She hooks his arm into hers, and he doesn't pull away, doesn't even try to object.

He's quiet, and Ichiyo isn't sure what else to say. She thinks maybe she should backtrack. The last thing she wants is to upset him, make him think she views him as weak.

"Alright," he breathes out with a defeated sigh. He still feels tense, but she thinks that maybe he's relaxed just a little bit. These days, he gives into defeat much more easily than he did when she first met him - for better or for worse.

If anything good came out of what happened to her the other week, is that she can indirectly use that to help him, now.

[esterzach]

"Dejala , hombre. Estar hecha polvo!" (Leave her alone, man! She must be exhausted.) AWWW! Oh, you are so screwed! I can't! I need to rant! Ahaha Sorry! Not tagging cause... people who know it will catch it from the first sentence! And those who don't know, no need to bother.

watching Spaniards speak and trying to read the subtitles in English, which is not my native language, was a very bad not good idea. Hence the reason I missed THAT line the first time I watched. The second time with adequate subtitles, still far from perfect, but much better, and I caught that little gem! And several others I missed. But damn! This scene!!! The man is already fucked and he doesn't know it. He realized it much later...

This is such fun!

This ship is insane! There is so much to unpack. It's like a juicy steak and you just can't wait to sink your teeth in it! My mind is going in so many directions...

But there are little things, that scream volumes. From the way they agree on small things, the way he nods when he listens to her mind works when she talks and gives orders, the way she figures out things in a matter of seconds about things he planned probably for days if not more. The way it looks they are having a conversation when actually he just reacts to her words, they are not talking to each other.

I love the way he gave her space to decide how to act on her own terms. It's all about her choice. He lets her choose - she initiates the dates, later with the first kiss, he just stays there, waiting, doesn't touch her, doesn't step toward her, doesn't attempt to do anything, lets her take her time and decide if she actually wants this. He doesn't push, or demand, which may easily be a manipulation, considering he knows her ex is controlling and the nature of their relationship. But even after the revealing of his identity and in her anger, he still doesn't attempt to defend himself, he just lets her lash out, scream, hit. He doesn't react! There are no nasty exchanges, no offensive words, no anger. When he overpowers her, he is so careful not to hurt her! And again - gives her the choice to decide what to do. This might be just a conscious decision on his side, to win her over, to manipulate her, but he could have got away and left much earlier, he was risking the whole plan, realizing how late he is, and how many things can go wrong, and still he is willing to indulge her. She is no threat after he is untied, even before that, in the bathroom, or in the car - he could easily take over and run. And he shows her at the end - here, I could have done that, but I didn't. Later on in the storage, again, she hits him, she bites him, there is no retaliation, no anger, no yelling even.

And I am pretty sure, that after that stupid move, she was bracing herself for impact, as if waiting to be hit. I don't think it was the speech, that convinced her to be on his side. It feels like it wasn't the speech itself. More like it was what he didn't do in that moment that sealed it and it was a reminder of why he is like that and what he is.

Otherwise, it was much earlier. When she sits against him with the lie detector and reacts to his story and to his tears. His behaviour might be normal for a nonviolent person, but everyone gets angry in some situations. He doesn't, even after she hits him multiple times, yells at him and calls him names.

Maybe he thinks he deserves it. Maybe he is just a person who doesn't like this kind of thing or can't fight. (That last one is proven wrong later)

But then again after the behaviour of everyone else toward her, even the ones who know her, even the ones who claim to be her friends, and her arrest. After calling her names, humiliating her, and being unnecessarily violent... Like come on - 3 grown-ass armed men, against an obviously unarmed woman, she doesn't carry anything and you can see it. After throwing her on the floor, and then frisking her, which again - where is she going to hide a weapon? And she knows them by name. It felt like a punishment for her being their boss and a woman and now she fucked up and they have a legit reason to humiliate her. (There is a part of me that is trying not to spin it in that direction - toward male vs female shit because let's face it, it's not always that easy and the only answer, AND because at times it is reaching, but at the same time my mind goes there, because of the way it was shot maybe ) Dunno, but the way her colleague was shocked and angry by what he saw... In a way, the authorities managed to screw up just enough to help the robber's case. It was perfection!

Also as someone wrote, she is sorta shameless AND I FUCKING LOVE that about her! That's one of the things that makes her different - she doesn't shy away from uncomfortable topics, and she reaches out when she wants something, she asks for it, she says it, sort of a matter of fact! She is all in when she expresses her feelings and it's awesome to watch! That emotional flexibility seems way more healthy than the reserved manner which I have seen so many times - oh the strong women who don't cry, don't show emotion and all that crap. Like f off - nature has given you all that emotional rage to use it when it's necessary, not to avoid and repress half of it... This is strength! If she can't open up and keep people at arm's length, she is alone. Being open is a risk. And it's scary. Yet she does it. Even after she has been hurt so badly. That combination of emotional vulnerability and shamelessness, between sharp intelligence and naivete is what does it! In the end, that look of defiance when he manages to escape - the big fat wordless "fuck you" she gives to the authorities, just by the way she looks at them! My thoughts are all over the place... But this is just too good!

[kichiyosh1]

Eeeek I got permission!!! Okay I'm going to pour all the brainot I have atm for cross-dresser scaramouche

Okay so when the second part was out my brain immediately though of a scenario and brainot on that scenario. The though that scaramouche was not careful enough to hold his facade with other people, those who's not from the same school as reader. Also the though that reader is the type of simpleton who will defend her friends if there's not enough evidence, imagine scaramouche using this side of reader to get even closer to her.

( somehow this turn to little fic I get inspired by yours truly)

The feeling of heavy bag on his shoulder is become unbearable, his hand gripping his skirt while the other holding softly to your hand. If only....if only he can drop all of your belongings to punch those jerk who can't get the signal that neither you or him are interested. 'Ah....buts that a shame, to get your belongings dirty for these people..... Simply not worth it' he though to himself.

The feeling of irritated start to come bubbling up to his face, a force yet gently smile was plaster on his face. Tightend his hold on your hands he can feel your figure shrunken uncomfortably, it should have bring him anger yet somehow.... Just somehow he feels satisfied with how your figure depends on his to take comfort. He took a glace at them before tapping your shoulder, "I'm sorry [Name] but I think I forgot my phone in the bathroom. Could you please help me get it?? " the look of guilt and relief was visible on your face before hesitantly leave him with the two guys.

" why did you let that one go? She was quite cute, looking timid and all" one of them ask the other "its fine we got the prettier one here, this one is more elegant than the other one" the other reply. He can feel a twitch, he's glad you were not here anymore slipping his cardigan off, he make sure to not get your belongings dirty. A feeling of some hands on his shoulder make his eye snap at person, a smirk with lustful eyes with pride thinking he got jackpot.

Presenting a smile, before his hand grip a handfull of his hair, pulling him so hard to the wall. All he could see was red. before he knew it, He was alone conscious, looking below to see beaten down people along with his stun gun in his hand. Getting all of your belongings while putting his cardigan again he search for you, founding you in the bathroom shaking and hiding in one of the stall.

You who suddenly run to him checking if he was okay. Asking what happen to his bit dirty cardigan while he calm you down, before walking you home after all the fiasco. He must admit he was glad the shop keeper make sure to separate his purchase of matching cloth with you. While you were changing your cloth after you buy a new set, you won't be able to remember how he steal one pair of sock. You won't be able have the heart to accuse him of such thing, he know well enough you won't able too.

As for you, you can't shake the feeling of dread when you see a little smudge of red on her white uniform she try to hide with her Cardigan. But the though of her saving you from those evil man whom your mother warn you all the time make you not wanting to point it out. All you feel is guilt for making her handle those persistent men, while you were running away from them, she was there to protect you. There's no good in trying to make her talk what happen when she herself said she taken care of it and just move on.

(this one small piece was soo bad I want to delete it bjakidkwndja. But have fun reading and sorry for my broken English, not my mother language)

I ATE THIS UP. YUMMY

Just imagine the shock on reader's face once she finds out that the girl she was defending with all her heart was actually a MAN.

But on the say that she doesn't know and reader is still defending him, Scara is def getting sickly pleasure from watching you saying all these things, putting him in a good light when you're just as blind as the rest of the people he's fooled. He finds it cute.

OOOOOOO the part where scara excuses himself from reader just so he could beat up those men that were gawking at you (and him, ew)(also i might add that to one of the upcoming parts in the main plot). The guys wondering how could such a sweet looking girl break half of the bones in their bodies in just one swift kick? not that they'd need to think anymore since scara probs bashed their skulls too🫢

They deserved it though, they should be thankful he didn't just gauge their eyes out just for looking in his and your general direction.

The concerned look you have on your face when you see a smidge of red on her uniform. Scara thinking he might get found out but then you just start worrying if she's alright. but even if you end up suspecting it, she already took care of those guys.

They deserved it anyways(2). 'Men will always be men', something probably your mother said.

Don't underestimate your writing capabilities, I enjoyed every second of reading what you sent! and your english is just a-o-kay, same here since english is just my 2nd, 3rd language maybe? not my mother tongue either.

I absolutely enjoy asks like these so if any of you are interested in sending some in whether it'd be for cross-dresser scara or just scaramouche in general my ask box is open˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

[winterslght]

SEND ME ♡ + A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…

@godsdefied asked for bucky & erika

who is the most affectionate? i feel like this depends on the day and on the mood of either of them. both are touch starved after decades of pain and torture, so it's in the little things. it's in the way erika hooks her foot around bucky's ankle at the table during dinner. it's how bucky blindly makes sure the scar on her upper arm is covered with his hand when they are out in public and he notices people staring. it's the little things that they show each other, not necessarily hiding it from others, but keeping it to themselves none the less.

who initiates the handholding? neither are much into handholding, but if i have to chose, it would be erika. and whenever she does hold bucky's hand, she makes it a point to grasp on to the vibranium one.

who worries more for the other? again, neither. both are highly skilled assassins running on a variant of the super soldier serum. both of them know the other is more than capable of taking care of themselves.

who is more likely to ask for help? bucky, but not in the traditional sense. erika had more time to adjust to modern life, spend more time away from hydra, so initially, she was the one to help him adjust to things. using a cell phone or a computer.

who is the one always losing the keys? erika. she'd lose just about everything if it wasn't for bucky. it's not that she does it on purpose, but she's very scatterbrained, always has been. and it gives her a sense of-- autonomy. she has things she can lose now. things that are hers.

who leaves little love notes for the other? both of them! definitely both of them. it stems from their time with hydra, where the would leave notes in safehouses or hide outs, little things that they hopes would help them remember if they ever got out. the notes thing just never really stopped between them. and it can just be about anything. little post it notes scattered around the farm. an invisible 'i love you' left in the fog of the shower in the bathroom for the other to find. and genuine love letters from bucky. he's a 40s fella after all.

who can’t sleep unless the other is there? bucky. since they finally found each other, he's still terrified she'll leave him again. he's still scared this is all just a dream, and that he'll wake up in hydra's clutches again. having erika next to him when he goes to sleep as well as when he wakes up keeps him grounded in a way.

who is more likely to propose to the other? let's just say that you can take the guy out of the 40s, but you can't take the 40s out of the guy. not even after just about seventy years of scrambling his brain in a blender.

who introduced the other to their family first? the closest they got to this was when they visited the grave of bucky's parents. erika has no idea where her family is buried.

who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? erika loves playing with bucky's hair. comb her fingers through it as they watch a movie, or braid it when she found another hairstyle on youtube she wants to practice. and he let's her. side note; bucky always has an assortment of hair ties around his left wrist. one for himself, and a couple for erika because she always manages to snap her own in half or lose them. plus, it won't really cut off his circulation and all that. which is one of the few positives of having a vibranium arm.

who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? when they are home at the same time, they make it a priority to always cook together. and they always make sure to leave bottles of water around for the other to drink. when they are on missions separately, they will always text each other small reminders.

who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? this may surprise you, but erika. she's the first one to defend bucky whenever someone mentions his past with hydra. considering her records are less known (it helps when you weren't also a wwii hero), she doesn't have to deal with the same kind of animosity from the public like he does. but call bucky a bad guy? be sure to catch hands from a 5 foot nothing black widow / super soldier.

who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? neither of them likes surprises. plus, enhanced senses anyone?

who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? they both make the other pinky promise to come home to them when they go on missions. that is the only time they do it.

who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? erika does so for bucky, before curling up on the couch with him when she catches him asleep on the couch. bukcy just picks erika up and carries her to bed.

[dunkzillla]

like a dummy I was working on this in the actual answer box and somehow pressed post mid sentence? so I had to delete it and post it like this. so if you saw part of this earlier, no you didn’t! @shes-a-voodoo-child

anyway, here we are! bobby/kyle, “Oh, no. There’s only one bed. Whatever shall we do now?” set sometime in 2013!

Mature, warnings for handjobs, language. Absolutely no piss kink drea, I promise!

The world is a cruel, cruel mistress. Kyle has been doing absolutely fine hiding his stupid little crush on his tag team partner from said tag team partner, but God, that’s really being tested right now, as he stands looking over Bobby’s shoulder at the tiny, crappy hotel bed. Bed being singular. Because there’s only one fucking bed.

“Oh, no. There’s only one bed. Whatever shall we do now?” Bobby just laughs, throwing his bag down onto the floor and walking over to the bed, sitting on the end of it to take his shoes off. They’ve just finished up a show, defending the belts and coming away the victors, and they’re tired and sore and the last thing they need is to be fighting with the hotel management about getting a different room, or waiting for a cot that will most certainly fold up while one of them sleeps on it. But it’s not like. It’s not like they can share it, right? That doesn’t even look like a full double.

“I could take the bathtub? I’m sure there’s more sheets and pillows somewhere in the closet?” Kyle’s not going to say it but Bobby’s older than him, and he needs the bed more than he does.

“What? No. The bed’s big enough for the two of us, Ky.” Bobby says, and that, god Kyle loves when Bobby gives him nicknames. Sometimes it’s Ky, a couple of times he’s gone all out and said ‘kylie wiley’ as a joke but Kyle would kill anyone else who tried to call him it. Bobby sometimes calls him babe, too. And that. Well Kyle gets all warm and fuzzy when he does that, and it’s normally accompanied by a hand on the back of his neck, Bobby checking if he’s had something to drink, that he doesn’t need a snack or he’s taken his meds.

Bobby’s good like that, he’s so good. As soon as he told Bobby about his diabetes Bobby made sure that he knew the basics, that he was okay before and after a match, and he checks up on him throughout the day. It’s not like Kyle needs it, and he huffs at anyone else who tries to smother him when it comes to his condition, but it’s nice when Bobby looks after him. So he lets him do it.

“Oh…” Kyle says when Bobby says they can share the bed. Because. What? It’s not a huge bed, and Kyle’s sure that Bobby doesn’t want to give up the opportunity to have the bed all to himself. “Are you sure? I swear I don’t mind putting some sheets in the bathtub or something. I could call the front desk and see if—“

“Absolutely not. Get in the bed, Kyle. Tag team partners can share a bed.” Bobby says, and he’s stripping his shirt off, then his shorts, and Kyle’s honestly trying not to stare. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Bobby shirtless before, or even in his boxers, they share a locker room and they fucking wrestle together, but, this is different. Normally Kyle will take the bathroom and get ready for bed in there, and by the time he’s done, Bobby is usually already under the covers in his own bed. So this, this is different, because Bobby is stripping to get in bed and Kyle’s going to have to do the same and get under the covers. With Bobby.

So Kyle does. He goes to the bathroom and messes around for entirely too long to be normal. He showered after the match so he can’t even use that as an excuse, takes ages brushing his teeth, checks his sugars. When he can’t hide in the bathroom any longer, Kyle steps out into the bedroom, his eyes falling instantly onto Bobby, who’s laying out on top of the sheets with his phone in one hand, the other absentmindedly running over his chest.

“Was beginning to think you’d fallen down the plug hole or something, you okay, Ky?”

“Yeah,” Kyle says easily, and he dumps his wash bag next to his bag and gets onto the bed as casually as he can. It’s not like he hasn’t shared a bed with someone before. He’s done it so many times, he and Adam used to always share because it was all they could afford. But Adam is different. He can cuddle Adam in the middle of the night and it not be a problem. But this is Bobby. He can’t ruin what they have by waking up spooning his tag team partner who he maybe has a huge crush on.

“You want me to put this pillow down the centre?” He says once he’s laid out, picking up one of the pillows and setting it down between them.

Bobby picks it up and smacks him with it. “What kinda insecure jackasses you been sharing beds with babe? Jesus. Now, come here. You checked your sugars? You all good?” Bobby rolls over and — he fucking spoons him. Just slots himself right up behind Kyle, throws an arm over his waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder. And god that’s nice. That’s so fucking nice. Bobby’s warm and he smells so good, and his body fits against Kyle’s like it was meant to be there.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m — yeah, I’m great.” Kyle babbles just a little bit, and he tries not to wiggle back, to feel Bobby’s dick press against his ass anymore because that would be — that would be crossing the line. It’s just a little harmless cuddling, right? Bobby’s just being nice. Making light of the situation, there’s only one bed and there’s no need to make it awkward! That’s all it is. Bobby’s good at making Kyle not feel awkward.

Except, Bobby’s dick is most definitely against his ass, and he can feel him, thick and — a little hard, and Kyle could just, push back, and feel more of it. Bobby’s body is a wonder, all thick and hard and toned, and he wants to get his hands on it, worship it, kiss and bite and lick and suck at his skin.

Kyle tries to shake those thoughts from his head, because he can feel his own dick taking interest, and he doesn’t need Bobby to know that, even though his hand is so so close to it, he could just move his fingers a few inches and they’d brush Kyle’s dick and realise that it’s thickening up, that he’s really enjoying the feel of Bobby holding him like this, pressed up against him.

Kyle stays still, tries so hard to just fall asleep, because that’s the only thing that’s going to help in this situation, but his mind is racing, hard beating fast, and his body is aching from the way he’s tensing up to try and not push back on Bobby.

“Kyle?”

Bobby’s voice rumbles all the way down Kyle’s back, and it’s warm and syrupy against his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Bobby drawls, and he slides his hand up Kyle’s chest to cup his jaw.

And that’s. Oh. Oh god. Bobby wants to kiss him, Bobby Fish wants to kiss him and he’s got a hand on his jaw and his face is so fucking close and —

“Yeah. Yeah, Bobby, please—“

Bobby kisses him. His lips are soft and warm and he can taste mint on his tongue from his mouthwash. Bobby’s hand is cradling his jaw, and the other is settled on Kyle’s belly, snaked underneath him, stretching Kyle against him, like he’s soft and pliable.

“Been waiting to do that for a while.” Bobby murmurs against his mouth, and Kyle keens just a little bit at the thought of Bobby waiting, wanting to kiss him and waiting to ask, waiting for the right moment.

“Oh… can I… can I kiss you?” Kyle asks then, because he wants to ask too. Wishes he’d have known and had the balls to ask earlier.

“Of course, babe.” Bobby smiles, and Kyle rolls until he’s on top, and Bobby’s got his hands on Kyle’s hips, looking up at him like he’s some sort of beautiful piece of art. And Kyle feels like he is, on top of Bobby, pressed all up against him, skin to skin.

Kyle leans down to kiss him, bracketing Bobby’s head in with his arms. It’s soft and slow, but Bobby’s hands slide over him, up his spine and down his sides, squeezing him and pinching him and exploring, until Kyle’s a whimpering mess above him. He’s hard, and Bobby’s hard, and their dicks are rubbing together through the thin material of their boxers.

“B-Bobby…”

“That’s it sweetheart, just like that, take what you want.” Bobby says to him softly, and he’s rutting up against Kyle now, grinding them together, and Kyle’s losing his mind, hands fisted into the sheets next to Bobby’s head, a few beads of sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

Kyle’s close, he’s oh so close, and he’s about to beg, but it’s like Bobby can read his mind, and Bobby snakes a hand between them and slips both of their cocks out of their boxers, and he wraps his hand around them both, working them to completion until they’re both bucking up and spilling into Bobby’s hand.

Kyle collapses onto him, head tucked into Bobby’s neck as he wraps himself around him. He’s breathing heavily, coming down from the orgasm when he feels Bobby’s sticky hand wiping down his side. Wiping the cone on his skin.

“Hey.” Kyle protests weakly, kicking his ankle out at Bobby’s.

“Sorry babe, you want me to wipe it on the sheets? They’ll get all messy. And we only have one bed, after all.” And Kyle can feel Bobby grinning, so he kicks him again.

“I hate you.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh and turns his head to kiss Kyle’s temple. “Nah, I don’t think you do.”

Kyle kicks him again. No. He really doesn’t.

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 1 - Slide

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn't help but notice how familiar he was.

⚠️ 18+!! | 2,816 Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Eventual Smut | AU/AT | Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, the effects of child abuse in adulthood, murder, suicide, alcohol use, description alluding to smut

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"I don't care if we on the run Nothin' matters when we one on one Lookin' at us 'cause we goin' dumb We on the same wave, you the same way You know I be down if it's with you Where we goin'? Baby, what's the move? We should take a trip up to the moon Get a room" -"Slide" by H.E.R. 

It was a face-off from the second the door closed to the apartment. The kind of argument Marc and Steven had only face-to-mirror, locked in the bathroom. 

Steven wanted to call her, ask her out, and get to know her for himself. 

Marc wanted to throw her number away, change his name, and flee the city. 

"She didn't recognize us!" Steven exclaimed, trying to build a case for himself. Marc detested this,

"She will. You give it time, and she will. She's smart as hell. No wonder she's a goddamn doctor."

"This isn't one of those situations where you poofed, and she never heard from you again, is it?" Steven asked, reflecting on Marc's track record. Though with Layla, it wasn't his fault, Steven didn't know the whole story of what happened with Simone. 

Marc wasn't sure where to begin or if he even should. His history with Simone goes back to when his brother was still alive and conveniently ended when he left town at 18. 

"Look, when I left Chicago, the last person I spoke to was my dad. She didn't know." Marc finally answered. Steven looked at Marc in the mirror with disappointment,

"Damnit, Marc!" He shouted. Marc tried to defend himself,

"Moni's family wasn't the greatest either, and she had all these plans so we would leave together, but she had dreams and ambitions. I didn't wanna drag her down. Now look where she is."

Steven turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom, ranting about how, once again, Marc ruined their chances of companionship before Steven ever had the opportunity. Marc sat back, listening, knowing Steven would never understand no matter how many ways he explained why it wouldn't work. 

"It's really something, innit? I get keen on someone only to find out you broke thei-" Steven stopped pacing and ranting abruptly. Marc could have sworn it took him a full minute to finally speak up again. "Did you love her?"

Marc took control of the body to answer. "Man, she was the only love I knew then. We were the closest you could get without being family or dating," Marc started. Steven couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't believe she's here, of all places," Marc said in a whisper to himself.

Steven refused to give in. He wanted to see Simone again, and he was going to make sure he would. "I'm calling her."

"Like hell you are, Steven! You think you can have a happy relationship and hide the fact that you live in the body of a ghost from her past forever?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. I'll go out with Simone, you'll remember all the good times you had, and you'll want to work it out. We all win."

Marc started to realize how mental it all sounded. The very idea of talking to Simone after all these years seemed gut-wrenching, but he supposed there was a reason Steven existed.

"You're serious about her, eh?" 

"I really am, mate."

 While Marc and Steven went back and forth over what to do, the woman they argued over was eating a salad and texting her flatmate about the encounter. 

Joyce: Sounds weird. Probably a stalker, be careful.

Simone: Idk he was attractive and lovely as can be 

Joyce: So are most serial killers lol

Joyce: Or was that not your thesis? 🤣

Simone: Remind me again who the psy is here ?

Joyce: Fuck off. Just don't let a creep get in your snatch again, or in my flat. Ttyl

Simone: 🖕

Simone chuckled to herself, thinking about the ex that Joyce was referring to as she forked up bits from her salad. Lettuce, cucumber, tiny tomato. She actually wanted Harbo's twin snakes, but she couldn't figure out where the craving came from. 

The sweet and sour candies used to be her favorite as a kid, but she hadn't had them in a decade, maybe more. 

Well, that's not true. I had some last time I was in Chica-

Her phone dings, causing a disruption in her thought. She saw it was a text from an unknown number instead of Joyce this time. 

Hello, It's Steven. Just making sure you have my number, also.

Simone read the text in his voice, even following it with the nervous laugh she imagined him doing. 

What a sweetheart. 

 When Steven called Simone to see if she was free for dinner that Friday, he didn't expect her to say yes, even if he was hopeful she would. He could have jumped for joy when she took him up on it. 

Now, he was getting ready to meet her, and he felt a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away.

"I'ma be sick, bruv." Steven said nervously as he buttoned his shirt. Marc stared back at him in the mirror,

"You're gonna be sick? I can't believe you're dragging me into this."

"I'm the one she's expecting, not you." Steven scoffed. 

Marc wanted to punch him but realized Moni might end up doing that instead. "Yeah, and when she realizes, you'll be getting that hook."

 Though Simone still felt that he was familiar, she knew she was with someone entirely different. So different; she was relieved to take a break from the ordinary shitty men she was used to. 

We may have known each other in a different life. She thought.

Regardless, Steven couldn't believe how quickly his cares and nerves melted away once they started chatting. At first, he was even more anxious when he saw her in the most stunning dark blue dress, but she quickly loosened him up. 

"Can't help but notice the American accent. Where're you from?" He asked.

"Chicago, Illinois, born and raised." She answered. 

Steven only asked because he needed to get to know her for himself, no matter what Marc told him. One question left both of them curious, though. "What brought you to London?" He wondered, tearing a piece off of the appetizer rolls.

Simone knew the question would come up, but she wanted to avoid getting into heavy stuff on the first date. She decided to answer honestly but without detail. "I have an internet friend from here who offered me a place to stay when I was having a rough time, and I fell in love. I couldn't stay away."

"In love with the city or someone?" Steven asked, interested in everything she had to say. Maybe her voice made things seem easier to listen to. He was convinced he could hear her read the phonebook to him.

She shrugged, "Oh, gee, I haven't been in love for as long as I can remember." She said. It wasn't exactly the answer to his question, but it was truthful nonetheless. 

Dinner conversation became more casual as they became more comfortable with each other. Simone still could shake the feeling that she knew this man, but she wasn't convinced she had ever met anyone with such kind eyes. 

She got into some banter but continued to crack jokes and get to know him. She was confident that he was too good to be true and knew she had to pull out the big guns to test his integrity. 

"Can you keep a secret?" She asked, leaning in closer to him. They had long since finished their meals but were far from leaving, too interested to part yet. 

Steven leaned in closer as well, "Who would I tell?" He asked. Simone thought for a moment, realizing it didn't matter much unless they knew people mutually. 

Only Steven and Marc knew they would be in on this secret together.

She felt it would either be the biggest mistake to tell him this so soon or the best idea she ever had. She took a deep breath,

"I was a dominatrix to pay my way through university." She spilled. 

Steven's eyes got wide, making Simone nervous about his response. 

Have I piled on too much too soon? 

"Wow, really? What's that like?" He asked. He knew what it meant but wasn't entirely sure how it worked. Still, the image of her in leather was strangely arousing to him. 

Simone kissed her teeth, having never been asked that before. "Well, I never let the clients touch me or anything. Wealthy men would pay a ton to just be humiliated. I didn't do all that for long, though." She explained, not once diverting her eyes from his. She needed to get a read on his honest feelings, as the last thing she needed was someone in her life who wasn't sex-positive again.

Steven was interested and didn't mind the fun fact about Simone. "Did you... like it?" He asked. She shrugged,

"Weirdly enough, yes. It was a good change of pace. I spent so long out of control of my own life, and I was finally able to take charge of something." She admitted. 

Marc was listening to get talk about this nonchalantly and was in shock by it. The girl he knew would have been embarrassed to speak of these things, even if she thought about them. She was taught these things were terrible, unholy, immoral, and ugly.

How long did it take for her to figure all this out?

Having just met Simone, Steven was delighted at how carefree and open she was. He was very fond of everything about her, down to the snort when she laughed. 

 Simone offered Steven a ride home at the night's end, and he accepted. The car ride was just as lively as the dinner conversation, though not nearly as long due to him not living far from the venue. 

"How about I pick you up at the same time next Friday?" Simone asked as they pulled up to his building. Steven's heart fluttered at getting a second date, and he accepted happily. 

 The week passed as any other week would: Simone had her appointments, and Steven had Marc in his ear, trying to get him to cancel the date before it was too late. 

None of these things stopped the pair from having the other in their mind, and the days leading up to the date were consumed by sending memes back and forth. 

Steven: Have you decided what we're doing on Friday?

Simone: Still stuck between a couple options. You'll love them!

Steven: I'll be happy to do whatever so long as you're there. 😋

 The real issues started after the second date. Simone and Steven had a fantastic time bowling, Simone wiping the floor with him and bragging incessantly about it the whole ride to Steven's apartment. 

When they got there, however, the air in the car felt thick and hot despite the cold weather. Once Simone's eyes locked onto Steven's and their laughter died down, there wasn't a single person on the planet left. For Steven, there was only Simone, and vice versa. 

Marc knew what was coming. He saw it in her eyes.

Steven felt like he would almost drool on himself, staring into those big doe eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked her, sounding slightly timid. 

 Though he was the one who asked, Simone wasn't one to waste an opportunity to leave a mark. She unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged for him, leaning over the center console and meeting his lips with hers. 

Never had Steven felt a kiss that warmed him all over like this. At first, he was surprised but found himself guided into it by her. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he was delighted it still faintly tasted like the fruity candy they shared at the bowling alley. 

Simone was thrilled by his eagerness to kiss back, yet she felt a strong familiarity with it. Maybe it was his lips, hands on her back, or the tenderness of the whole thing. 

It was new, yet not. 

Had to have been in another life.

She pulled away with a grin that plastered itself on her face, feeling like it was stuck there for the foreseeable future, and she proposed a third date, just the same as she did before. Steven agreed once again.

 Though Steven was on cloud nine, Marc was pissed and didn't waste any time letting Steven know. 

"Do you have any idea how far up shit's creek you are?"

Steven shrugged, "The creek's quite beautiful from where I am. Jealous?" he asked. 

Marc had never known him to be so careless. Like he hadn't thought any of this through. Like Steven expected a normal, happy relationship. 

Marc was okay with letting him play the boyfriend for a bit, but it was clear that it would get out of hand, and Steven would end up heartbroken. 

"I was gonna let you crash and burn and learn your lesson, but you need to know something. Simone's been giving you the eyes." Marc warned.

Steven, carefree for a moment, suddenly cared a lot more. "The eyes?"

"If she gives you the eyes, she wants to sleep with you, and Steven, you have no idea what to even do with a girl like her," Marc warned.

He only knew from experience. How she gave him those eyes once before, he acted on it, and it ended up being one of his biggest mistakes.

Back then, she wanted to, but they didn't. She's different now. 

Steven was quiet after that, panicking internally over this information. It occurred to him that, aside from the body he resided in having experience, he, as a consciousness, has never slept with anyone.

"You gotta help me, Marc."

"Fat chance, man."

"That's bullshit! If it were any other woman, you'd help me."

"No, you're right, but I specifically asked you to keep Simone out of this, and now here you are, the third date planned, and you haven't even considered the fact that she'd wanna have sex with you at some point. You dug this hole. You figure it out." Marc snapped. 

Steven started to feel guilty for being selfish about this. He had considered the prospect of sex but didn't think he would make it this far. He expected to be rejected by now. "I'm sorry, Marc."

"Oh, no, it's okay, buddy. Still not helping you." He replied in a tone that didn't seem like it was okay at all. 

Marc was jealous after sitting in the background of every interaction with Simone that Steven had. 

Every time he made her laugh, every time she gave him those eyes. He wanted to take over for the kiss but knew that would be hard to explain. 

Simone was just the same as when they were teenagers, but now she's come out of her shell. She was successful, confident, and her own woman in every right. Marc felt that if he had kept her around back then, she wouldn't be anywhere near where she is now. 

But no matter how much he tried to tell himself it was a bad idea to have her back: he missed her so much it hurt. 

 It was every bit Simone's intention to sleep with Steven as soon as he allowed. She felt the chemistry was undeniable, and if that kiss indicated how that would go, it would be a great time. 

Simone knew how most men thought, and in many ways, she had conditioned herself to think how a man would but with the rationality of a woman. This developed for her when she finally left home, started university, and got to know people outside her community. 

She spent a great deal of time pondering having sex with Steven, almost enough to make her believe she was a nymphomaniac. 

Mama would say I'm a whore. A jezebel with impure thoughts. 

Simone hated when her mother's voice popped into her head, but she was typically successful in drowning her out with her own thoughts.

Does he top or bottom? Doesn't matter. Does the bump in his pants deceive me? Probably won't matter. Does he know where the clit is? That matters. A lot.

Simone couldn't imagine him being a mediocre lay with looks like his but wondered if she could get past it if he were. She had a great time with Steven and hoped, prayed even, that he wasn't as shy in the sack as he was outside of it. 

If he was, she wondered, would he let me take over?

[azulaang-chakras]

Katoph fic idea: Lawyer/Client AU

Katara is a young public attorney who has made a name for herself defending those failed by the system and wronged by law enforcement. She’s hated by the cops and loved by her clients.

One morning, the city wakes up to the headline of the century: Toph Beifong, heiress of the wealthy Beifong family, has been arrested for murder. Katara goes about her morning as usual until a message arrives from the DA’s office: the Beifongs have called and asked for her. She meets with Lao and Poppy Beifong, who tell her that their daughter, having heard about Katara’s past legal exploits, asked them to contact her rather than their usual attorneys. Katara asks to meet with Toph before agreeing to anything, even though the check the Beifongs are willing to write would pay off her student loans and her rent for the next three years.

After a single private conversation, two things are clear: one, they can’t stand each other. Two, Toph definitely wants Katara to be her lawyer.

“Why do you want me to represent you? We hate each other.”

“Exactly! If I can convince you that I’m innocent, then I can convince anyone.”

Despite finding her abrasive, stubborn, and vulgar, Katara is convinced by the flimsiness of the evidence against her, the unusual zeal the DA’s office is showing in their desire to put her behind bars, and Toph’s personal testimony, and agrees to represent her.

The catch to the whole situation is that while Toph is being framed for a crime she didn’t commit, she is a criminal. She’s guilty of theft, vandalism, fraud, and participating in an illegal underground fighting ring under an alias: the Blind Bandit. However, the victims of her scams are other criminals, so there’s nothing Katara can do with the information.

Shenanigans ensue from there. The trial has been fast-tracked to its court date, giving Katara a short window of time to put her defense together as she deals with the media frenzy surrounding the whole affair, intense scrutiny from the DA’s office, and having to deal with Toph as a client. Every meeting to prep her as a witness for the stand or discuss their next strategy includes copious amounts of bickering and getting off topic.

Once, when the bailiff overhears some of their arguing, he asks Katara in a chuckling voice, “Is that your client in there or your girlfriend?”

She retorts, “Shut up, Pipsqueak.”

Throughout the trial, there’s a string of unusual witnesses coming and going on the witness stand, outbursts that reverberate throughout the courthouse, and twists and turns galore. Underneath it all, however, runs a much darker situation than Katara had anticipated.

Together, the pair slowly uncover a conspiracy of corruption that runs through every level of city politics, from the police chief to the DA to the mayor himself. Toph made the wrong enemies and found out more than she should, hence their desire to shut her up, one way or another. Katara now has to prove Toph’s innocence while staying one step ahead of a system she has to bring down.

One night, there’s a failed hit attempt by the mob where Toph is grazed by a bullet. They can’t go to the hospital, as the assassins or dirty cops would surely ambush them there, so they hide in the apartment of Haru, one of Katara’s co-workers.

“Where’d you learn first aid?” asks Toph while Katara wipes the blood off of her shoulder.

“From my mom. I come from a long line of women who know how to keep people alive.”

“Lucky me.”

As they sit alone in the bathroom together, Katara’s gentle hands tending to her injury and her sweet words expressing gratitude that she’s safe makes Toph realize that Katara truly is the kindest and most caring person she’s ever met. She does what she does because she wants to help people. She’s not in this for the money her parents are offering her. Katara could have backed out at any time to protect her career, her life, and spare her from the stress of dealing with the Blind Bandit as a client, but no. Katara stuck by her because she believes in her and will continue to do so.

Toph works up the courage to try to make a move, only for her lips to be blocked by Katara’s finger.

“I can’t date clients,” she reminds her, fighting against the fire in her blushing cheeks.

Katara turns to leave, but before she makes it past the doorway she hears Toph say, “Then I’m looking forward to the jury declaring me not guilty so that I can fire you.”

[frizzle-tales]

Jiyeon could feel the danger radiating from Taehyung as he spat out the degrading insult as he shot a glare at her.

What did she do?

“No…no!” Jiyeon denied at his absurd conclusion, she absolutely hated being an embarrassment, how could he possibly believe that she loved it?

As Taehyung inched closer to her, Jiyeon stepped back until her back pushed against the wall and she had nowhere to go. Taehyung was fuming, throwing one accusation after the other at Jiyeon, and she didn’t know whether to remain quiet or defend herself.

“No, sir! That is not true… I wasn’t flirting, I was just being friendly…” Jiyeon attempted to explain herself but Taehyung wasn’t having it and he gripped onto her hair, at which Jiyeon whimpered as she looked at him with confused eyes - trying to figure out what she had done wrong this time, but Jiyeon simply couldn’t put puzzle pieces together.

“Crush? No, no, I-“ At his tighter grip, she winced out of pain, before Taehyung started to drag her out of the room towards the guest. “Please, stop, this is a misunderstanding!” Jiyeon pleaded but as usual, Taehyung didn’t care for any of her words.

They returned to the guest, and once again, the difference between Namjoon and Taehyung was as clear as night and day. Taehyung simply inflicted more pain on Jiyeon and didn’t bother to ask how she was after her clumsiness, yet, Namjoon, who she barely knew, checked on her.

Yet Taehyung seemed furious at the fact that Jiyeon had taken a liking to her guest. Did he himself not see how downright cruel he was to her?

Jiyeon knew that she didn’t see Namjoon in that way, and when Taehyung had urged her to confess her feelings, she felt conflicted on whether she should give in and embarrass herself even further, or if she should disobey him and feign innocent towards their guest and change the subject.

“Yes… yes, I am okay.” She said with cracked voice, starting to feel sick to her stomach at the tension that was building up in the room.

“Hm? Was there something that you’d like to share, Jiyeon?” Namjoon asked as he placed the glass down on the table. “I am all ears, I am quite curious if I may say so…” He added, chuckling at the sight of the young woman struggling to not break down in front of the two men.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

Tears rolled down her face and she started to sob, unable to stop herself as she bawled in front of the two men.

“Oh?” Namjoon surpressed a smirk, not quite expecting for the girl to waver and break.

“E-excuse me, I should leave.” Not daring to glance at either man, Jiyeon stepped away from Taehyung and made a run for it, not looking back as she exited the living room and ran up the stairs, heading to the bedroom.

“Oh, how sad…” Namjoon mocked, finishing his last sip. “What a shame… your girl was doing so well, she was really trying, only for her to fail in the end, so tragic.”

Once upstairs, Jiyeon locked herself in the bathroom before dropping to her knees.

“Grandma…” Jiyeon sobbed as she laid on the floor, hugging herself.

— 🎙

"Well." Namjoon gave his thighs a quick rub up and down, suppressing a grin, before standing up. "I think it's time I take my leave. Don't trouble yourself, I'll show myself out."

The guest fixed the cuffs on his shirt, pausing right before he could walk by his enraged friend. "She was doing so well tonight.. Maybe she needs just a little more incentive to behave." And with that, he collected his coat and left the home.

Now this feeling was becoming familiar.

The jealous feeling that earlier tightened in his chest slowly melted away, only igniting one he knew all too well.

Bloodlust.

Taehyung took one breath in before marching up the stairs, storming into the bedroom. "Jiyeonnie.." His voice sang out, laced with a sadistic note. "Where are you hiding?" Just as he looked around, he noticed a light coming from under the bathroom door.

Testing the waters, he tried the knob, but it only moved half way before stopping. A smirk stretched across Taehyung's lips as he reached into his back pocket.

If there was one thing he loved about old homes — skeleton keys.

Taehyung tsked his tongue as he unlocked the door, painfully slow. "Oh, sweetheart.. you have to get better at your hiding skills. It's no fun when I can find you right away ..."

He swung the door open, gluing his gaze onto the young woman before stalking forward, dragging her upper arm and yanking her up off the floor. "Every time. Every. Single. Time. I think you're turning into a good, well behaved girl, you always do something to fuck it up, hm?"

Taehyung dug his nails into her skin, dragging her over to her bed before shoving her down. "Fuck, you drive me insane!" His hand switched, this time gripping onto her cheeks. "You make me want to kill ..."

He let go of her face with a push, locking the cuff around her ankle before standing up straight. "There's another rule.. Don't ever lock any doors in my house. Break anymore of my rules and I'll break you, do you understand me?"

Taehyung walked over to the closet, throwing on a jacket, getting ready to head out the door before taking one last look at her. "I'll be out for a while, you wait for me here like a good girl." He snickered at the degrading tone in his voice before finally turning on his heel, walking out.

And he didn't come home, not until well passed midnight, caked in blood.

[reginaregen]

Perpetual-ein

"Great, now you sleep watching erotic movies on your phone at night like a teenager?"

Zemo opened his eyes and saw Svetlana standing next to his bed. The woman was looking at the phone on his pillow with disgust. Thankfully, the screen was dark.

The sun had risen, again.

"I want to be alone," the man said as he turned to the other side of the bed. He closed his eyes tightly as the side of the bed his back turned collapsed. He tensed up as he felt Svetlana's kisses on his neck.

"I don't want us to be like this," the woman said in a sad tone that Zemo once believed in. He wished he could be as naive as he was back then. The next second, Zemo held his breath as Svetlana climbed on top of him. They started kissing. Zemo was trying very hard to focus as her hands roamed his body. After five minutes, Svetlana pulled back and looked at him. She tried to hide her anger, but Zemo knew her very well.

"I think it's normal for men your age," Svetlana said, trying to sound understanding. Of course, she was trying to belittle him gently. She gave up and moved over him.

"I had no problems last night," Zemo said as he got out of bed. "My phone and I were doing just fine. Maybe it has something to do with you and not my age."

Svetlana's anger, which she was trying to hide, came out. "I'm a beautiful woman, Zemo! If you can't get hard, it's your incompetence!" she shouted from the bed to the man who was walking towards the bathroom in his room. Zemo gave her a crooked smile and turned around, reached over her, picked up his phone from next to his pillow, and went into the bathroom. This silent action made Svetlana completely furious. The man had implied that I can't get hard for you, but I'm going to get hard for some random person on the internet.

After locking the bathroom door, he touched his phone before washing his face and smiled to himself when he saw Elena's picture on the screen. While Svetlana was cursing him and breaking things in his room, the man had already forgotten about her existence.

*   *   *

"Isn't he such a daddy?!"

Iolanda snatched Elena's phone from her hand and took her place next to her at the breakfast table. "Would you stop drooling at the screen and eat your food? It would be nice to see you pursue a realistic goal for once, Elena!"

"Don't you dare!" Iolanda said as Elena protested. "Don't you dare!" She waved the phone in front of the girl. "He's your professor, and he's old and he might have kids or something!"

"Don't exaggerate!"

"I'm not exaggerating! Stop it! Do you know his reputation among the students? They call him 'weird', Elena!"

"Why?"

"Because he's weird!" Pietro said as he walked into the kitchen. He leaned over and kissed Iolanda longly.

They separated while Elena pretended to throw up.

"It's bad enough that my best friend and my brother are sleeping together. At least don't mate in front of me!"

"Says the girl who calls her professor daddy." Iolanda growled.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "You still want to bang Professor Weird? You can't be serious!"

Elena frowned. "Hey! What weird thing have you seen by him?"

Pietro laughed. "What weird thing haven't we seen by him? Even his smile is creepy! You don't want to make eye contact with him. Wait, you can't because he's an antisocial maniac."

Elena was surprised at herself as she felt her heartbreak. She didn't even know the man, but she still felt the need to defend him. "Maybe he just hasn't met anyone worth keeping around before?"

Iolanda and Pietro gave her a disapproving look. "We're running late," Iolanda said, looking at the clock. They quickly got up from the table. Pietro kissed his sister's hair before leaving the house. "I'd rather you were interested in someone your own age, Elena. Professor Weird would never get my approval."

As she heard the door close, the girl let out a sigh of relief and muttered to herself, "As if Professor Weird would care about me!"

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #286: Arachnids in the UK

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-286-arachnids-in-the-uk/

Timestamp #286: Arachnids in the UK

Doctor Who: Arachnids in the UK (1 episode, s11e04, 2018)

An unhappy ending for an unfocused story.

In an empty hotel on a golf resort, American businessman Jack Robertson is upset with his personal assistant, Frankie Ellish. Robertson wants to throw money at the problem, especially in light of his potential political run in 2020, but Ellish says the problem is too complex. He fires a woman who stumbles upon their conversation, then gives Ellish one hour to solve the problem.

Meanwhile, the TARDIS navigates through the temporal vortex and arrives in Sheffield a mere half-hour after the fam originally departed. The Doctor is prepared to say goodbye to the team, but Yaz invites everyone to her place for tea. Graham has something else to take care of, so he passes on the offer. On the way up, the Doctor spots a woman in need of help, but the woman tells her that everything is fine.

The group meets Yaz’s family and the Doctor tries to figure out small talk. She engages Yaz’s father about the garbage that he’s collecting, eager to learn more about the conspiracy. Yaz gets a call from her mother, the woman whom Robertson fired, and goes to pick her up. After Yaz leaves, the Doctor offers to deliver a parcel meant for the next-door neighbor who hasn’t been seen for days.

The Doctor and Ryan enter the neighbor’s flat with the woman from before. The place is without power and filled with spider webs. They find the flat’s occupant Anna wrapped in spiderwebs like a trapped insect, and they find the spider responsible hiding under the bed. They trap it in the bedroom and the Doctor finds vinegar and garlic to keep it away. The spider goes around via the ceiling, and the Doctor asks it to stay in the apartment until she can solve the mystery.

Graham returns home. The place seems empty, but he imagines Grace standing with him as he thinks about everything he wants to tell her. He sits with one of her coats until he hears a noise from upstairs. He investigates and finds a shed spider carapace. He returns to the Doctor and tells the team what he found.

The woman, Jade, tells the group that these aren’t the first incidents. Something is happening to the spiders in the city. They follow Jade to her lab where she works as a zoologist specializing in arachnids.

At the hotel, Ellish descends into the lower levels while recording a statement for the authorities. She’s soon consumed by the spiders living there. Yaz arrives moments later to retrieve her mother, Najia, and Robertson confronts the women as trespassers and his bodyguard Kevin holds them at gunpoint. Robertson cites the room conditions as the reason for firing her.

Jade explains that her work is about extending spider lifespans. Apparently, spiders can keep growing throughout their lives. The spider population has exploded in Sheffield lately. The Doctor sees a pattern in the data and points them toward the golf resort.

Robertson shows the Khan women a guest room filled with spiderwebs. He leaves for a scheduled bathroom break and the Khan’s listen to a crawling sound in the walls. The Doctor calls and asks if they can let her in.

Robertson, meanwhile, is attacked in the bathroom by a giant spider that breaks through a bathtub. Kevin tries to defend his boss, but Robertson locks him in the bathroom. The ensuing gunshots bring everyone to the guest room as the spider drags Kevin away. Everyone but the Doctor and the Khans are a bit starstruck, and they investigate the carnage. The Doctor takes a look below the tub and comes face to face with the spider. They all run to the lobby but find the entrance blocked by a literal wall of webbing, so they retreat to the kitchen.

Robertson is beside himself that the Doctor doesn’t recognize him. When she asks if he’s Ed Sheeran, Robertson goes off her while flaunting his portfolio. He’s also running for President of the United States in 2020 because he hates Trump (and hates the name even more). The Doctor hatches a plan that involves catching a spider, sending Ryan and Graham to execute it. The plan, not the spider. They trap one before running away from an entire group of them.

The Khans discuss how Yaz knows the Doctor as the Time Lord digs into the hotel’s history. It seems that the resort was built on an abandoned coal mine. Against Robertson’s wishes, the team goes into the depths, finds Kevin and Ellish wrapped in webbing cocoons, and uncovers the blustering businessman’s secret: His waste disposal company used the mine to store massive amounts of toxic waste. With nowhere to go, the waste is being concentrated and has affected the spider population, including the dead spiders from Jade’s lab.

While Graham and Ryan search for another spider specimen, they discuss the letter that Ryan’s father wrote to him. Ryan’s father wants to be his “proper” family, but Ryan’s not interested. They find a massive spider in the ballroom and trap it before returning to the others. The Doctor concludes that the large spider is the mother and the others are returning home. She remembers that Robertson has a panic room and asks for a tour. Robertson wants to shoot them all, but the Doctor decides to trap them in the panic room for a humane death.

That doesn’t sit right.

Ryan lures the entire population to the panic room with “Know Me From” by Stormzy. With the spiders locked away, the Doctor develops a plan to herd the mother outside, but Jade notices that it has grown too large and is literally suffocating under its own mass. Robertson storms into the ballroom and shoots the mother spider, claiming it as a mercy killing that will secure his place in the White House. The Doctor is angry but can do nothing as Robertson leaves the room.

Later, the companions make their way back to the TARDIS, deciding that life with the Doctor is better than what they have in their homes. Graham needs to heal his grief, Ryan doesn’t want to go back to the warehouse, and Yaz wants more than the insanity that her family offers. They want to travel with the Doctor.

The Doctor warns them of the dangers. When they’re sure, this new Team TARDIS pulls the lever together and embarks on a new adventure.

This story had a lot of potential, but it was squandered with a meandering and unfocused plot. As such, the ending is way too quick and doesn’t resolve anything. The toxic waste problem remains, Jack Robertson doesn’t face any consequences, and the spiders are left behind to die of starvation in a panic room.

I’m not a fan of spiders, but the fate of these spiders really bothers me. The Eleventh Doctor once remarked that in 900 years of time and space, he had never met anyone who wasn’t important. Leaving the spiders to die a long and painful death for something that they didn’t have any influence on seems out of character. I wonder what a better writer could have done in consideration of Planet of the Spiders and Metebilius III.

Jack Robertson’s character also bothers me as an example of the “ugly American” stereotype, though it’s understandable given the time in which this episode was made. I recall watching this one when it first premiered and rolling my eyes at the stereotype. This time around, it makes me wonder if Chris Chibnall even knew what he wanted from the character since Robertson embodies the very man that he despises so much. Chris Noth reinforced this by loosely basing his portrayal on the real-life reality star. The character isn’t very clear-cut, and that further confuses an already muddy story.

I did like meeting Yaz’s family and adding more depth to her character. I was also impressed with the reimagined temporal vortex. But this story overall? Not a keeper.

Rating: 2/5 – “Mm? What’s that, my boy?”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: The Tsuranga Conundrum

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[mlcheely]

It's Just A Game... CHAPTER SIX. ☆

DATE : ┃JANUARY 28TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃RACCOON CITY, MISSOURI. TIME : ┃11:01 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 Before Wesker enters the vehicle, Starr pulls her pen from her cardigan’s pocket and hides it underneath her notebook. It won’t be much, but if Wesker makes a wrong move she can have something to defend herself with.

 As Wesker starts the engine, he turns to Starr. “Do you have the address?” He asks. Of course he already knows the address to Jill’s apartment, but in order to deceive her he has to make it believable. 

 The question causes Starr to freeze up, but she forces herself to look at him and nod. 

 She begins to quickly write down Jill’s address before showing it to him. Wesker flicks on a dashboard light and scans it over before turning the light back off. 

 “That isn’t far from here.” He says. 

 Starr nods again and closes her notebook before putting on her seatbelt. She angles herself to look out the window and face away from Wesker, something he takes notice of as they pull out of the bar’s parking lot.

 The silence that settles between the two is deafening. The sounds of other cars going by and the car’s engine are the only things keeping Starr sane. Starr looks at Wesker maybe once or twice, keeping an eye on his hand movements. Only an idiot would attack someone while they’re driving, but what will happen once the car is put in park? Wesker is an unpredictable man, so she chooses to keep to herself instead of potentially provoking him. Wesker can feel Starr sizing him up, and his stomach flutters in excitement. Starr’s body language speaks louder to him than any voice could, and the combination of her attentiveness and anxiety arouses him. Starr is like prey; backed into a corner, ready to bite if someone comes too close. Wesker is like a predator; unrelenting and out for blood, ready to devour an unsuspecting victim. Unfortunately for Starr, she has become his prey.

 Wesker glances at Starr as they are about to come upon Jill’s building. Starr is ignoring his presence, gripping her notebook and squeezing her legs together. She doesn’t look at him even when they park on the side of the street. She’s too afraid to look at him, but she’s too scared to turn her back to him, either. Starr acts casually by unbuckling her seatbelt, but she’s immediately on high alert when Wesker turns to her. 

 “Do you need assistance to the door?”

 Starr looks at him but quickly looks away, shaking her head. She opens the door and steps out, feeling her heart begin to race. Wesker isn’t getting out to attack her, and he’s not stopping her, either. So, he really was just giving her a ride. 

 Starr purses her lips and stops herself from closing the door. She leans down and looks at him. “Th — nk... Y — u…” 

 Wesker stares at her, taken aback by her speech and gratitude. He clears his throat. “You are welcome.” He says, and she gives a faint, thankful smile. Starr closes his car door and starts walking towards the entrance of the building, picking up her pace a little as she gets closer to the doors. Wesker watches her until she enters the doors, and he furrows his brows. ‘How peculiar.’ he thinks to himself, putting his car into gear and pulling away. 

 As soon as Starr enters the building, she makes a run for Jill’s apartment. She has to run up several stories before she’s able to make it to Jill’s floor and as she reaches the door, she pulls the key Jill had given her from her pocket. Starr’s vigorous shaking causes her to miss the keyhole several times before she actually puts it in, and after unlocking it she rushes inside the apartment and locks it behind her, tossing her notebook and key onto the kitchen counter. Starr begins to feel nauseated from the running, and she quickly makes her way into the bathroom to vomit. Starr shoves the bathroom door open before throwing up in the toilet, gasping for air and regurgitating again. Starr soon catches her breath and swallows, wincing at the pain in the back of her throat. 

 Ugh .

 Staring into the toilet, her eyes begin to flood with tears and she begins to sob quietly. 

 Starr shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be in Raccoon City. She should be back home with her family and pets, surrounded by their love and support. She should be back home in her comfortable bed, in her art decorated room, in her wonderful home. She should be worrying about what to wear, not whether she’ll live to see the next day or not. She should be worrying about what to eat, not whether she’ll make it back home or not. She shouldn’t be worrying about her safety, but yet here she is — breaking down over the fear of being stolen away.

 Starr feels her heart sting as she cries into the toilet.

 She misses her family. She misses her pets. She misses being home . That’s all she wants… to go home. She didn’t ask to be here. She didn’t ask for any of this.

 Starr begins to wonder if her family is missing her or if they even know she’s missing at all. The thought causes her to cry harder, and she watches as her tears fall into the toilet.

 After collecting herself, Starr stands and flushes the toilet. She sniffles and reaches into the bath, turning on the shower. 

 Starr feels sad and dirty, and she knows a nice, hot shower will definitely fix that. A hot shower always fixes things. 

Starr walks into the bedroom and sits on the bed before she begins to remove her boots and place them in a corner of Jill’s bedroom. She removes her socks after and throws them into a nearby clothes basket. Retrieving a towel, Starr re-enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her. She removes her dress and undergarments and steps into the shower, pulling the curtain closed and allowing the hot water to wash over her body. 

 Starr runs her fingers through her wet hair and sighs from the comfort of the heated water and starts washing herself. Halfway through her shower, she begins to ponder why Umbrella tried to kidnap her. Starr hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone about Umbrella’s crimes, so what other reason could there be? As she scrubs her scalp, she begins to piece together events from the past two weeks. 

 Starr was found on the outskirts of Raccoon City by Chris and Jill and they took her to the hospital, Annette Birkin stole a blood sample from her arm during her stay at the hospital, Jill brought Starr to her home — wait, wait, wait... backtrack a second, Starr. 

  Annette Birkin stole a blood sample …

 The thought causes Starr to question herself. 

 What does her blood have to do with anything? And what would Umbrella want with it?

 Starr isn’t sure, but as her shower goes on the thought slips away from her mind. 

 At the end of her shower Starr pulls her towel off the toilet, wraps it around herself, and begins to dry her body. 

 A knock at the door catches Starr’s attention.

 She steps out of the bathroom, and she walks towards the front door to peer through the peephole. Jill is standing on the other side, looking exhausted. Starr sighs in relief when she sees her.

  About time .

⋆

DATE : ┃FEBRUARY 1ST, 1998. LOCATION : ┃JILL’S APARTMENT. TIME : ┃4:25 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s a calm afternoon, and Raccoon City is slowly getting ready for Valentine’s Day. Heart decorations cover streetlights and a few business windows, and florists are readying their bouquets for people to buy their loves a beautiful arrangement. Love is in the air, but not in the air Jill and Starr breathe. 

 Jill is currently getting ready for her shift when she looks over at Starr. Starr is laying in the bed on her side, staring at the wall. Her face is blank, and it seems like her eyes never blink as she stares with no end. Her breaths are slow and long and her hair is messy, sprawling over the pillow like loose thread. The covers are pulled up all the way to her shoulders, leaving only her head exposed. 

 Starr has been like this since their night at Black Jack’s. Quiet or constantly staring at the wall. Jill had asked her if everything was okay, but Starr was adamant everything was alright. She even asked her if something happened with Wesker, but again Starr told Jill the same thing — “ everything’s fine .”

 It‘s not like Starr is lying to Jill. Wesker did just give her a ride, but that’s because she was just lucky. Starr is sure Wesker would have kidnapped her that night. She would never tell Jill this, however, and she decided to keep it to herself. 

 Ultimately Jill chose to let it go, but she feels that deep down Starr is refraining from telling her something. She isn’t sure what it is, but seeing someone she now considers a close friend lay around like this makes her sad. 

 Jill purses her lips and shakes away her pessimistic thoughts and begins to leave the room to head out, but she stops. 

 “Hey, Starr?”

 Starr turns over to look at Jill.

 Starr looks tired, and the frown on her face doesn’t help. Her bright, sparkling blue eyes have become dull and gray. Her hair is tangled in some places, looking like a rat had perched and made a nest inside her forest of locks. It’s a pitiful sight, and as  Jill looks at Starr’s exhausted expression and messy hair she forces a smile. 

 “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay?” Starr nods and turns back over to face the wall, and Jill leaves the apartment, locking it behind her. Starr shifts to lay on her back and begins to stare at the ceiling. The ceiling is made with a popcorn like design, one that had been popular throughout Starr’s childhood. Although an odd design choice, Starr has always enjoyed popcorn ceilings. She starts looking at the different designs the popcorn texture created. So far, the only comfort she has the luxury of feeling is from sleeping with a knife under her pillow. Even then, it lacked in providing the comfort she actually wanted.

 Starr sighs deeply and throws the covers off of her body.

 Maybe she can find something to watch.

 Starr’s stomach growls loudly.

 Maybe she can find something to eat, too.

 Starr walks into the living room and turns on the television. As the screen flashes on, Starr puts her hand on the screen and begins to move it across the glass. Static tickles her fingertips, and she can’t help but smile. This is one of the few joys Starr has found being stuck here, and it’s also one of the few joys she remembers from childhood. In the real world, TVs like this aren’t produced anymore. They’ve evolved to become flat screens and even 3D screens, something that’s nice to look at but nowhere near the nostalgia she feels looking at the bulky tv. 

 Starr glances at the VCR on top of it. ‘ Those certainly aren’t made anymore, either.’ 

 After Starr clears the screen of static, she makes her way into the kitchen.

 Starr opens the fridge and stares at the contents. There aren’t many options, so she ultimately decides on making herself a sandwich. 

 After she makes it, she walks back into the living room and places her plate on the coffee table to search through Jill’s movie collection. Starr finds a VHS tape of Jurassic Park and slides off the cover. Starr smiles as she holds the tape.

 ‘Man, I miss these.’ she thinks before putting it into the VCR.

 Starr stands up and walks over to the couch. She grabs her plate from the coffee table and plops down onto the couch, pulling a nearby blanket over her legs.

 Halfway through the movie, Starr begins to think about all that’s transpired since she’s been here. Starr has wondered why she’s here so many times now. She’s even prayed for an answer, but the only answer she received from the guy in the sky was that she shouldn’t lose sight of things. 

 Don’t lose sight of things… What things ? What exactly is Starr losing sight of? And what does Raccoon City have to do with it? Why is she caught up in all this? Surely the universe could have picked someone more qualified. This thought causes her to look to Jill’s bedroom doorway. The destroyed door has been removed from the hinges, leaving Jill’s room exposed. 

 Starr stands and walks into the bedroom. She steps over to her side of the bed and pulls a knife from underneath her pillow. Starr grips it tightly, and her eyes water. 

 Starr doesn’t want to hurt anyone or keep living in fear and paranoia. If she can figure out a way to protect herself without potentially killing anyone, she’ll take it. Starr considers asking Jill or Chris for help. They could teach Starr some simple self defense techniques. Jill’s position in S.T.A.R.S. was security, after all. Starr is sure Chris could teach her a thing or two, as well. 

 Starr pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind and walks into the kitchen to put the knife away before returning to the couch.

 Towards the end of Starr’s movie, Chris comes to check up on her. She knew it was Chris because he said “Starr, it’s me, Chris.” before she opened the door. 

 As he enters, Chris asks Starr if she’s okay, only to be ignored. Chris frowns, but he decides to let it go and join her in watching the rest of the movie. 

 After it’s over, Chris speaks up.

 “Do you wanna go for a ride?”

 Starr looks over to him. Chris is looking at her with expectancy, and Starr forms a straight smile. How can Starr say no to him? Besides, she actually would like to go for a ride. Being stuck in this apartment is starting to make her feel crazy, and she believes some fresh air will do her some good instead of laying around.

 Starr nods, and she throws the blanket off her body. Chris stands and reaches into his pockets to pull out his keys as Starr walks into the bedroom, looking for a pair of socks before slipping on her sneakers. She looks down at her apparel and decides what she’s wearing is fine, and she meets Chris at the door.

 Chris locks the apartment with his spare key, and the two make their way down to the entrance. As Starr and Chris walk up to his vehicle, he looks at her. 

 Starr looks tired. No, tired is an understatement .  Starr has bags underneath her eyes, and there’s a pitiful frown on her face. Her hair is messy, pulled up in an updo with baby hairs flying everywhere. Chris frowns. ‘Has she slept?’ He thinks, but he brushes it off as she enters his car.

 Chris gets inside and closes the door behind him before starting the engine. 

 ‘I think I know where we can go.’ He thinks to himself, changing gears before he pulls away.

 Starr looks out the window the entire car ride, leaving Chris to turn on the radio to save himself from the awkward silence. Starr finds herself tapping her index finger to Eddie Money’s ‘Take Me Home Tonight’ and Chris feels a small grin form on his lips when he notices it from the corner of his eye.

 City lights and traffic soon become trees and terrain as Chris and Starr come close to their destination. Chris turns down a dirt road engulfed by pine trees, and Starr looks at Chris in confusion but he doesn’t say anything. 

 ‘Where are we going?’ She thinks, furrowing her brows. Starr purses her lips before looking back out the window. 

 Chris pulls out into a clearing that has a fence bordering the edge of what looks like a cliff. The viewpoint seems to be overlooking Raccoon City, and Starr raises a brow as Chris puts the vehicle in park and turns to her. 

 “You want a beer?”

 Starr feels a small smile touch her lips, and she nods. 

 Beautiful scenery and a beer? Count her in. 

 Chris grins and exits the car, leaving it running so the music continues to play. Starr exits the car behind him. As she closes her car door, Chris opens a small cooler from inside his trunk and hands a can of beer to Starr. Starr takes it and her attention turns towards the fencing. She walks up to the viewpoint and cracks open her can.

 The sun is hanging just above the horizon, and the viewpoint towers above the city of Raccoon. The smell of pine trees and dirt fills Starr’s nose, and it causes her to think about home. She closes her eyes to picture it. Pets run around and people enjoy one another’s company in her memory, but the sound of a trunk closing stops Starr’s reminiscing. Chris walks up to her with his own beer in hand, and she turns to him.

 “Pretty cool, right?” He asks. She nods before looking back to the view. It’s a gorgeous view, and the sun is shining down on them. Starr looks up and closes her eyes, taking in the warmth of the sun.

 Chris looks Starr over and frowns, turning towards the view himself and sipping from his beer.

 Starr is so strange to Chris. She’s not as strange as Wesker , but he can’t pinpoint the kind of person she really is. He hasn’t been able to since he met her, and while it frustrates him, it’s also a challenge that he finds himself enjoying. Starr has given him many different impressions — kind, fun, quiet, beautiful. Chris begins  to conflict with himself, arguing between the devil and angel on his shoulders. His angel is telling him Jill, and his devil is telling him Starr. Chris just shakes them off, and he looks at Starr again.

 As the sun begins to set, Starr taps her fingers to some Guns ‘N Roses in the background. Chris sips from his beer before he starts walking towards the front of his car. He sits on top of the hood, and as he does so the hood bends underneath his weight. Starr turns to look at him and he motions for her to sit. Starr shakes her head with a smile before claiming the spot beside him.

 Moments pass between the two before Chris breaks the silence.

 “Hey, Starr?”

 Starr turns to him with curious eyes. Chris swallows, glancing at her lips and back to her eyes. His heart begins to pound in his ears and his face becomes hot. He clears his throat, looking away. “Are you okay? You just seem like something’s bothering you.” Starr continues to look at Chris even as he looks away. Did he just? No. No way . Starr chooses to brush the small glance off and sighs, thinking of what to say. What can she say? Luckily for her, however, she can say a lot more than she used to. Starr sips from her beer before answering.

 “Something is bothering me. I just...can’t talk about it.” She mumbles.

 Chris immediately turns to her, surprised at her voice. It’s similar to Forest’s southern twang, but it’s way more prominent and the tone of Starr’s voice makes her sound younger. It’s cute.

 “Since when did you get your voice back?” He laughs.

 “I didn’t.” Starr grins. “I can only talk at this volume.” She chuckles. “It’s better than nothing.”

 Chris feels his heart beat faster as she smiles at him, and he grips his can slightly. “Oh.” He awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “You uh — said something’s bothering you? Is there anything I can do to help?”

 Starr looks down into her can. “No, I don’t think you can help me with my problems.” She says, taking a sip. “But can I ask you a favor?”

 Chris furrows his brows. “What’s up?”

 “Can you and Jill teach me to defend myself?”

 Chris is taken aback by Starr’s question at first, but then he understands why she would ask him such a thing. It’s only natural she would want to learn self defense after being attacked.

 “I can’t speak for Jill, but I don’t mind teaching you.” He says, taking several gulps from his beer. Starr nods her head and looks at Chris. “Thanks.”

 Chris nods his head at her and smiles sheepishly. “No prob.”

 The two look out to the horizon, and the sun is now gone, preparing itself for another day. Crickets chirp quietly, and the creatures of the night begin to ready themselves for a nightly hunt. A cool breeze settles between the two of them, and Starr can’t help but shudder. Stars sprinkle the dark sky, and the moon’s light shines down. ‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police begins playing, and Starr feels herself slowly smiling at the rhythm. She hasn’t heard this song in a long time. 

 She lays backwards so she can look up at the dark abyss above, and Chris soon follows. Starr places her hands onto her stomach as she relaxes, tapping her fingers to the song. Chris starts to think to himself. 

 He isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or his own interest, but the more Chris thinks about the woman next to him the more his desire grows. He licks his lips and swallows. What would Starr say? Would she reject him? Would she accept him? Chris won’t know unless he tries, and this is definitely a chance for him to try. 

 Chris turns his head to her. “Starr?”

 Starr turns her attention from the sky to Chris. “Yeah?”

 Chris looks at Starr’s face and he feels his heart rate begin to pick up again. He thinks back to what Forest said about being afraid. Chris shouldn’t be so afraid of his feelings, and if Starr turns him down — well — that will be just fine. 

 ‘Plus, it’s not like Jill and I would happen, anyways...’ Chris thinks to himself, but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind before he looks at Starr’s lips and back to her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

 Starr immediately sits up and feels her face become red with embarrassment. 

 ‘Holy shit .’ She thinks. ‘Chris Redfield just asked to kiss me.’ Starr’s heart rate accelerates quickly, and she struggles to come up with an answer. ‘What do I say?’ She asks herself as her mind becomes frazzled, and she feels like she might burst at the seams with excitement and anxiety.

 Chris frowns as she moves away from him, and he sits up. Did he do something wrong? Did he make it seem like this was his goal? That wasn’t his intention, but he thinks Starr might get the wrong idea.

 “I’m sorry, Starr. I might’ve been a bit too forward.”

 Starr immediately turns to Chris, waving her hands dismissively. 

 “I-It’s not that I d-don’t w — nt t — ” Starr’s voice breaks as it gets higher, and Chris interrupts her. 

 “So you do want to kiss me?”

 “Y — s, b — t — ” Chris cuts her off again.

 “But what? What’s stopping you?”

 Starr stares at Chris, red-faced and unsure of what to say. Starr feels her knees become jelly, and her stomach turns. Starr had only dreamed of kissing Chris Redfield but now that she’s living a dream come true, it isn’t as savory as she thought it would have been. Instead, she’s nervous and scared. Starr is nervous about what will happen after they kiss. She has a history of sharing sweet kisses and backseats, even though they never went anywhere. She’s afraid Chris will end up hurting her, or worse , she ends up hurting him. Much like Chris, Starr has always chosen to deprive herself of good things out of fear of rejection. It may work trying to ward off unsuitable people, but it also works in depriving Starr of a positive relationship. 

 Something she feels like she’s depriving herself of now.

 Before Starr can come up with an answer, Chris looks down to his watch.

 “Jill should be home by now. We should get back before she starts to worry.” He laughs nervously, hopping off of the hood. He doesn’t look at Starr as he enters the vehicle. Starr watches him as he leaves her, and she slides off the hood. A frown begins to form as she gets into the car, and Starr feels like she might’ve said or done something stupid.

 Starr said she wanted to kiss him, so why didn’t she? Is there something wrong with him? Chris thinks, deciding to leave it alone rather than push further. 

 One the way home, Chris and Starr end up sitting in awkward silence once again. Starr feels herself become nauseous as she looks out the window. Why didn’t she just kiss him? ‘He even asked first.’ Starr thinks, and she frowns when she sees his face. It’s not exactly sad, but it’s certainly not happy, either. He looks disappointed, and it only adds to Starr’s guilt.

 As they roll up to the side of the street, Chris puts the car in park. Starr begins to get out and looks back to notice that Chris isn’t doing the same. Oh…

 Starr purses her lips. 

 “I’ll see you around.”

 Chris nods at her, and Starr looks downcast. Chris feels his heart burn at the sight of her face, but he turns away when she closes the door. He watches Starr walk up to the building’s entrance, and Starr looks back to his car before stepping inside.

 Chris sighs to himself and facepalms.

 “Maybe I should’ve just kissed her.” He murmurs before changing gears and pulling away.