#anywho enjoy.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Sheer Desire

A/N: So this was definitely not planned to be the first thing I post in the new year. In fact, it started as a kinktober prompt (stockings & lingerie) that got sidelined and seemed to double like bread dough while I wasn’t looking. I wanted to finish up the last few holiday-ish things that I had planned and get them up this week... but Frankie had other plans. And who tf am I to stop him? This follows along with the other Frankie x Reader pieces I’ve written, but can also be read as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy!! 

WC: 8.7k 

Warnings: language, smut, Francisco Morales’ mouth ;) 

Summary: You and Frankie attend Benny’s wedding together, and he struggles to keep his hands to himself the whole night. Until he doesn’t have to. That’s it, that’s the fic. 

Look at that. Seven whole minutes to spare. 

Blowing out a relieved breath, you pulled into one of the few remaining spots in the area of the hotel lot cordoned off for event parking, the signs reading Welcome to the wedding of Alana Ruiz & Benjamin Miller in gold script. You knew you’d be cutting it close, working an open shift at the bar and then racing home to clean up, change and grab your things for the weekend before hitting the road and making the two and a half hour drive down to Marco Island, but there hadn’t been another option. It was the first major event that Frankie had invited you to since you’d taken the next step in your relationship, so you’d done what you had to to make it work. I’m just glad I’m not late. 

Picking up your phone from the cup holder, you sent a quick text to let Frankie know that you’d made it. He and the rest of the wedding party had gotten there the night before for the rehearsal dinner, and he had been checking in with you every few hours throughout the day to make sure that nothing had changed as far as your ETA. You knew that it was partially because of his military background, wanting to make sure that things were running according to plan. But as you scrolled through the messages he’d sent, you couldn’t help the smile that curved your lips. But it's also because he’s excited. 

Your smile grew as you set the device back in the cupholder and reached down to slide off the flip flops you’d worn to drive in. Tossing them to the floor on the passenger side, you grabbed the pair of sheer black stockings that you’d shoved in your purse on your way out the door. You’d been unsure if you wanted to wear them, and you didn’t have time to decide before you left. But as soon as they were in your hand, you pictured the way they would look balled up in Frankie’s grip later in the night, and the fire that flared in you at that image made the decision for you. 

Taking a few seconds, you rolled them up your legs and then shoved your feet into the pair of low wedge heels you’d chosen for the night. You checked your reflection in the visor mirror, touching up your lipstick with the tip of your pinky finger. Okay, good to go. You took a breath, and then you took your phone and purse and hurried towards the walkway that led to where the rows of chairs were set up overlooking the water. Here I come, Frankie. 

– – – 

The ceremony was beautiful. It had been timed almost perfectly so that the sunset painted the Gulf in shades of rosy copper and ripples of indigo, the shadowy silhouettes of palm trees acting as a backdrop for the I do’s. Benny and Alana had chosen to write their own vows, and Alana’s brother had been the one to officiate, so it had been intimate and personal, the love and happiness between the two of them absolutely tangible. 

As was the feeling of Frankie’s eyes on you from his place between Will and Pope on Benny’s right. All three of them looked fantastic in the brown suits that they wore, but your focus was only on the man in the middle. Damn, Morales. 

You locked your gaze with his and smiled, mouthing the word hi. Your lower lip slipped between your teeth at the way he lifted his hand away from his leg just enough to give you a covert wave. Oh, look at him. His cheek rose in a lopsided grin that only made him more attractive - especially when you noticed his dimple peeking through one of the patches in his beard. 

You’d been falling in love with Frankie for months, finding yourself a little deeper in it every day. But you took a steep tumble that night. 

And though you had ended up spending most of the cocktail hour on your own, Frankie and the others wrapped up in greeting guests and taking pictures, when he finally did get his arms around you, you felt that he was already there, ready to catch you. Ready to dive in even further with you.

“Hey,” he said, his hands finding their way to your waist as soon as you were in reach, his lips seeking yours the second the single syllable left them. “Missed you.” His fingers flexed in the satin of your dress as he kissed you again, this time slower and longer, one hand rising up to cup the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your smile pushing your cheek against his palm. “Glad you’re here.” 

“Hey yourself, Frankie.” Your left hand slid inside his jacket, smoothing over his side and around to press flat against his broad back. None of the groomsmen wore ties, so the fingers of your right hand curled around his lapel, that forearm resting against his chest. “Missed you, too.” You smiled against his lips as you continued to kiss him.  

As soon as he felt your lips part, his tongue slipped into your mouth to glide atop yours, stealing your breath, and then he was pulling back and bumping the tip of your nose with his. “You are so damn beautiful.” Both hands settled at your waist again as his eyes swept up and down your frame, noticing the way your dress hung on your hips to flare slightly at your knees, appreciating the low cut of the neckline and the small triangular cutout that was just visible under the knotted tie that embellished the top. And then he noticed your legs and the way they looked encased in sheer black nylon, so thin it was barely there at all, and he groaned. “Gonna have a hard time keeping my hands to myself for the next few hours.” 

That makes two of us. “You know, you clean up pretty well yourself, Morales. It’s not gonna be easy for me, either.” The hand that you had on his back came to join the other, gripping both lapels and tugging on them. You let out a small laugh, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “Guess it's a good thing we’re staying here then, huh?” Opening your eyes again, you arched one brow and smirked at him. “Two and a half hours isn’t a short drive and-” 

He cut you off then, eyes darkening as they narrowed slightly but never left yours. “If we were driving home tonight? I wouldn’t wait.” There was a raspy quality to his voice that wiped the teasing grin right off of your face as you realized what he meant. He had driven down with Pope the night before so that he could drive home with you, so you’d be in the same car. Oh, fuck. Your heart thudded hard, and you felt your eyes go wide as he leaned in to finish telling you what would happen on the ride home if you didn’t have a room for the weekend. “I can drive with my left hand, and the right one can-” 

Just then you heard your name being called from somewhere behind you. Frankie winked and let the rest of his words hang, knowing that you knew damn well what his free hand would be doing in that scenario. Oh, you are gonna be trouble tonight, Francisco. Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked up to see Pope walking over, his arm wrapped around the waist of a stunning brunette in a burgundy dress. Wait a minute, is that…

You glanced back up at Frankie, a smile spreading across your lips. “Is that Yovanna? I thought Pope said she couldn’t make it!”

“Yeah.” He nodded as you released the collar of his jacket, arms going back to your sides after reaching across your chest to secure the strap of your purse on your shoulder. “She flew in this morning to surprise him.” His chuckle turned his eyes light and warm again as his hands left your body, too, and it was clear to see how glad he was about his friend’s happiness. Good. He deserves it. They all do. 

Your eyebrows flew up. “Wow, that’s a hell of a surprise. I bet he was excited.” 

“He was. Shoulda seen his face when she called from the airport.” Frankie leaned down to drop a kiss to your temple as the other couple came within a few strides of where you stood. “Surprises are nice,” he whispered in your ear. “But I liked knowing you were gonna be here.” I did, too.

Pope reached for you then, giving you a hug and introducing you to the woman you’d heard so much about but had yet to meet, and then the four of you went to catch up with Will at the bar, Frankie’s fingers laced with yours as you walked. Your group was joined by the two bridesmaids that had walked down the aisle with Will, both women eyeing the older Miller brother. His and Benny’s cousin Mark was supposed to have been the fourth groomsman, but he’d broken his leg in three places just a few weeks out from the wedding and was in a full hip to toe fiberglass cast. To keep anyone from having to walk alone, Will had been assigned both of Alana’s college roommates - who also happened to be the only two of the four bridesmaids that were single - and it seemed as though neither of them cared that he had his arms around them both. Oh, this is going to be a fun night. You grinned as you finished your drink, an autumn evening breeze sweeping through the courtyard. 

–  –  –

It hadn’t dawned on you that you and Frankie had never danced together until the DJ opened the floor for all couples to join the bride and groom. 

When else would we have, though?     

Despite all the milestones and things you had shared since things had become more serious, and even though there were definitely more important and significant bridges to cross in the future, the feeling that you got when he led you out amongst the sea of couples was one of pure elation. It swirled in your chest, and if it weren’t for the way his arms kept you grounded as he took you in his hold, you would have thought it possible for you to float away. Doing new things with him - even something as normal as dancing together at a friend’s wedding - made you realize that you wanted to do everything with him. 

Frankie clasped your hand in his and brought it to his chest, his other hand sliding south into the dip at the base of your spine. With his next swaying step he pressed you closer, shrinking the space between your bodies until you could feel each breath that filled his lungs and the way that his heart beat didn’t match the slow cadence of the song that you were dancing to. Mine doesn’t either, though. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in through your nose, the arm you had around his torso tightening to mirror the hold he had on you. Frankie’s cologne - mixed with the scent of the smoky whiskey he drank at the cocktail hour - nearly overwhelmed your senses as you laid your head against his shoulder, your head spinning as you let your breath back out. He smells so damn good. The slow sweep of his thumb up and down your back sent a tingle through your bloodstream that only intensified when you felt his lips brush your forehead, where he left a featherlight kiss and two whispered words. 

“Thank you.” 

Eyes opening, you squeezed his hand and picked your head up to meet his gaze. Despite the fact that the dance floor was packed with couples - the two of you had bumped shoulders with Pope and Yovanna on one side, and the newly minted Millers on the other - he was all you could see. And he’s all I want. You smiled, head tilted to one side as you blinked at him. “For what?” 

Raising your joined hands to his lips, he kissed your curled fingers before returning them to where they were. “For this. Tonight. Being my date.” He swallowed, your eyes flicking down to track the movement of his throat before coming back up to his face. “For showing up for me.” 

“Frankie,” you spoke his name softly, leaning in to nuzzle the ridge of your nose against the line of his jaw, his normal scruff cropped closer to his face for the occasion but still long enough for you to feel it. I’ll always show up for you, Francisco Morales. As long as you want me to. 

“For everything.” He sighed, flexing the fingers of his right hand against your back, the tips pushing into the material of your dress and your flesh beneath it. There was no space left between you to eliminate, but that didn’t seem to matter to him as he urged you closer. “I don’t thank you enough.” 

You closed your eyes and let him tuck you into his chest as the song continued, his arm wrapping more tightly around you. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, making it easy for you to press your lips to his neck. His skin was warm where you kissed him, and you trailed a few more small kisses up towards his ear, the soft curls behind it tickling your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me, Frankie,” you whispered. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

“I do, though.” He surprised you then, picking up the hand that was twined with yours and looping it around you at the same time that he used the one resting on your spine to turn you. Oh, alright. You gasped, the sound becoming a small laugh and then a warm hum as his arms resettled around your waist with yours crossed over one another, your back to his front and his chin over your shoulder. “And when we get up to our room later?” He curved his free hand around your hip and pulled you to him, so that his next two words could only be taken one way. “I will.”

A shiver ran from the shell of your ear down to your toes, your body responding by sending waves of heat to crash through your lower belly. Fuck, Frankie. He waited a few beats before turning you back to your original hold, and you were grateful for the time to get your suddenly racing heart somewhat under control. When you were face to face again, you opened your eyes to see just a touch of smugness in his grin. Because you know just what you’re doing, don’t you? The sincerity of what he’d been saying just before he set you ablaze, though, was still the most prominent thing you saw in his expression. 

“Oh yeah?” You freed your hand from his and brought it up to his forehead to push a rogue curl back into place. It slipped stubbornly down again with his nod and you let it, your palm resting on his shoulder momentarily. “Well I like the sound of that, Frankie.” 

His eyes flashed, and it didn’t matter that the courtyard was strung with small bulbs of golden light or that beyond them, the whole night sky was on display. That look…  His hand came up to his shoulder to scoop yours into it again, his thumb pressing into the cup of your palm before his fingers curled over your knuckles. “Good.” You could tell that the song you were dancing to was ending, and you knew that meant that in just a few moments you’d be seated at your table. But it seemed Frankie wasn’t done stirring things in you just to let them simmer for the next few hours. As the music began to fade out, he pulled you close and made sure that no one else could hear. “I like your sounds.” He nipped at your earlobe and you had to swallow a whimper. “Wanna hear ‘em all tonight.”  

Oh, don’t worry, you’re going to. 

You knew that wasn’t going to be an issue. Because of the way that you had to move your schedule around to take off the rest of the weekend and the following Monday, and since Frankie had Oliver the previous week, the two of you hadn’t spent the night together in a little over fourteen days. But now we’ve got three in a row. Just us. Before you could respond to what he’d said though, the DJ was thanking everyone for joining Benny and Alana for their first dance and asking that you all be seated for the toasts. Biting your lower lip in lieu of an answer, you shook your head as Frankie winked at you, and then you let him lead you to your table. 

Pope and Yovanna were already back, along with two of the bridesmaids and their spouses, but you passed Will as he made his way in the opposite direction, where the other two bridesmaids stood ready to start the toasts. You mouthed a “good luck” to him, the man giving you a bright grin as Frankie clapped him on the shoulder and mumbled, “Don’t fuck up, Ironhead.”  

“Yeah, fuck you too, Fish,” Will shot back under his breath as he elbowed Frankie, who snorted. 

The interaction was entirely commonplace for their group of friends, and it made you happy to know that after everything that the four of them had gone through together - some of which you understood that you might never know - they’d always have each other’s backs, always be there for one another during their best and worst times. You leaned into Frankie, your bare arm pressed to the sleeve of his jacket. And this is one of the good times. 

Turning your head, you kissed his bicep and hoped for nothing but good times for a long time. 

He pulled out a chair for you and you sank into it as he sat in the one next to it, listening intently as Will delivered a heartfelt toast to his little brother and new sister-in-law. Ending it by raising his glass, Will asked that everyone do the same. After listening to the things he said - about love, trust, growth and support, and how the best relationships, like Benny and Alana’s, had all of those things - you weren’t surprised to find that your eyes were damp as you took a sip of champagne. 

Because… You swallowed, watery eyes shifting to the man beside you. Because so do we. Clearing your throat, you swallowed again, though this time it was a lump of emotion instead of a bubbly beverage. “Will’s too good at public speaking.” You sniffed, leaning over towards Frankie, indicating the tears shining in your eyes.

He let out a small laugh, but you could see that the speech had struck a chord with him as well.  “He is,” Frankie agreed, reaching over to brush away some of the wetness you missed on your cheek. 

Will was finishing up by wrapping Benny and Alana in a hug, and then he handed the microphone over to the two women who were making a toast together, before making his way back to your group. You set your glass back down as you felt Frankie’s hand cover your knee under the table. He’d gathered the skirt of your dress up, pushing it aside so that his thumb could slowly stroke over the sheer material stretched over your legs, and though you were still thinking about what Will had just said, you were immediately distracted by what Frankie was doing. The way that his touch roved inward and higher up your thigh sent a fresh flood of heat into your belly, his warm exhale against your skin as he leaned close to whisper to you while Alana’s maid of honor continued her part of the speech only making it that much more difficult to pay attention.  

“I know I said it already but.. you look incredible tonight.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You always do.’ Before you could respond, he lightly squeezed your leg, fingers tightening just above your knee before spreading out over the thin barrier between his flesh and yours. “These things are drivin’ me crazy, though.” He dug his fingertips in just enough to test the elasticity, letting out a quiet but throaty sigh as he relaxed his grip again. The sound made your eyes snap up to meet his, their depths darkened by his next few words. Oh, shit.  “I wanna see them. But I also can’t wait to get them off you.” 

The space around you broke out in good-natured laughter at something that Megan said in her toast, but you had no idea what it was because at that exact moment, Frankie’s hand slid higher up your leg - high enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a pair of regular pantyhose that you were wearing. They were thigh high stockings, topped with delicate black lace that hugged your legs. His eyes widened, a bolt of desire crashing through them that you swore you could feel. 

Because that means… “You can take them off, Frankie.” You sucked in a breath as his thumbnail lightly scraped over the embellished top and onto your skin before sliding beneath the elastic, your heart hammering. “But you don’t have to.” 

He stared at you then, his whole chest expanding with his inhale, and even though you were having a great time celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Miller, you couldn’t wait to get up to your hotel room so you could let that spark catch and consume you. Can’t leave yet though. 

“Oh, I will.” He arched one brow, gently pressing the thumb that was still beneath your stocking into the flesh of your thigh. “Eventually.” 

That time when the toast ended and you were supposed to drink to the newlyweds, neither of you had your glass in hand. You hadn’t even noticed the cheers and applause, the flashes of photos being taken. Instead, you stared at the flick of Frankie’s tongue as it poked between his lips to wet them, and you knew he was watching the way your breastbone rose and sank with your stunted breaths at the suggestions you both were making. 

I- we can’t… Not yet, it just… There were still hours left in the evening - dinner and dancing and celebrating and cake and pictures and… And he’s in the wedding party. He can’t disappear this early.  “Jesus, Frankie, the night just started and-”  

He withdrew his hand then, a devilish grin softening into something more teasing. “I know. Like I said…” He winked, lips twitching into a full on smile before pressing together as he nodded. “Eventually.” 

Oh, wearing these was definitely the right call. 

–  –  – 

A few hours - and several more less than subtle hints from both of you - later, your cheeks were sore from laughing and smiling. The party was starting to wind down, the clock ticking towards the end of the night, when you felt Frankie’s grip squeeze your leg under the table again. “Gonna go get one more drink from the bar.” He cocked his head to the side. “And then we can…” He let his sentence trail off, raising one eyebrow and slipping his thumb under the lacy elastic band around your thigh. “How’s that sound?” 

You sucked in a breath, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you nodded. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, leaning in to press his nose against your cheek, lips close to your ear. “Sounds.” Oh, fuck. “Be right back.”

With that he stood, following Pope and Will over to the bar. Yovanna had excused herself to use the restroom, so you were left alone at the table, your stomach swooping and your heart pounding. Your mind filled once more with the image that inspired your fashion choice for the night - Frankie’s thick, strong, rough fingers clutching the delicate sheers after removing them from your body - and you felt a ripple of excitement at how close you were to seeing it come true. Soon. So soon. He’s gonna come back and then- 

And then you snapped your head up as Benny’s voice hit your ear, the man grinning as he waved around the glass in his hand and made his way to your table. He was clearly drunk - but happily and pleasantly so, a slight stumble to his swagger but not at all inappropriate for a groom at his own wedding. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.  Pressing pause on the thoughts that were just about to run rampant as you stared dazedly out at the darkened beach beyond the dunes, you broke into a genuine smile of your own as he got closer. 

“Hey, Benny,” you pulled out the chair next to you, indicating that he could sit. “You just missed the guys, they went over to the-” 

The single cube of ice in his glass knocked against the side of it as he took a big swig of his beverage. Eyebrows gathered and forehead rumpled, he held up his free hand and mumbled an un-uh, shaking his head as he swallowed. “Nope, I came over to talk to you.” 

You laughed and cocked your head to the side. “Oh, yeah?”  

 “Yeah. Listen, I just-” He swung himself into the empty seat next to you with a sigh, setting his glass down next to Frankie’s discarded silverware. “I’m sorry Alana didn’t wanna do the whole,” he brought both hands in front of himself and mimed an over the shoulder throwing motion before continuing. “The whole toss the flowers thing.” The movement caused his whole body to tip to one side, both of your hands reaching out to stop him from falling off his seat. Though I don’t know if it would do anything. Luckily your help wasn’t necessary, Benny righting himself by gripping the table and shifting his weight. He closed one eye in an exaggerated wink and pointed at you with a grin. “Woulda put my money on you catchin’ it, and then…” He jerked his head towards the bar and waited for you to look over.

Though you already knew what you would see when you did, you still sucked in a breath at the sight of him, warmth spreading over your cheeks, and bursting in your chest. He’s… oh, look at him. Frankie stood waiting for drinks with Pope and Will, a deeply genuine laugh brightening his features as he jokingly smacked Pope’s shoulder, Will doubled over in laughter as well. It made you happy, seeing him like that, and you watched the three of them - focusing on Frankie - with a smile on your lips for a few more seconds before you turned back to face Benny. 

Suddenly, the meaning behind his words clicked, and you laughed, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine, Benny. It’s an outdated tradition anyway, and it takes time away from other things li-” 

He blew a breath out through his lips, cutting you off with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “No, but it's…” Your eyes widened in amusement as his flitted over your shoulder and brightened as he grinned. What is he doing? You didn’t need to wait long for your answer though, Benny raising one hand and waving to someone behind you. “Hey! Ang! C’mere.” Who is? You turned to see who he was talking to as one of the women in the bridal party - the one who had been partnered with Pope when they’d all walked down the aisle during the ceremony - came towards your table, her own small bouquet in hand. Oh, right, Angela. “Ang, lemme borrow that real quick, okay?” He gestured to her flowers. “Please?’

She leaned down with a huge smile on her face, placing one hand on the back of his chair, and kissed him on the cheek. “Anything for my brand new brother in law!” Dropping her bouquet in his lap, she laughed and clapped her hands. “I’m heading back to the dance floor while there’s still time, and when you’re done here I better see you out there twirling the shit out of my sister, Miller!” Laughing, she shimmied her way out towards the group of people on the floor,  Benny calling a ‘Yes ma’am!’ after her. 

“Benny,” you shook your head as he picked up the bundle of daisies and dahlias in his lap and glanced down at it. “What are you-” But you knew what he was doing the second you saw the mischievous quirk of his lips. Before you could get the final word of your question out, he sprung into action, flinging the bouquet at you. “What?!” You sputtered, hands flying out instinctively to catch what he’d thrown at you. “Why are you-” 

He just drummed his hands on the table top, some of the amber liquid in his glass almost sloshing up over the rim.. “See? I fuckin’ told you!” 

Closing your eyes, you let out a chuckle and hid your face behind the blossoms. “Benny…” You groaned, the sound devolving into a laugh. “You-” 

“What’s goin’ on over here, hmm?” Just then you felt Frankie’s solid presence behind you, one arm coming around your chair to set your drink on the table and press a kiss near your temple. Lowering the flowers to your lap, you closed your eyes as he let his lips linger long enough for you to feel him smile before he drew them away. Hi.  

“What’s goin’ on, ‘Fish,” Benny stood and faked a punch at Frankie’s bicep, opening his fist and letting it clap over the older man’s shoulder instead. “Is that your girl here just caught the flowers, so you know what that means.” Without waiting for a response, he waggled his eyebrows and bent down to retrieve his glass. “Now if you two will excuse me, I need to go find my wife.” 

“Yeah, you go do that, Benjamin,” Frankie muttered, shaking his head and bringing one hand up to swipe downwards over his mouth, the corners of it twitching behind his palm. Benny shot you another wink before turning towards where Alana was dancing with Angela, Will, Pope and Yovanna. “Can’t help himself, can he?” He spoke under his breath, dropping his hand. 

“You know Benny.” You shrugged, laughing as you crossed one leg over the other. The hem of your dress slid up as you shifted your position, exposing more of your knee and thigh. Though the autumn breeze that swept through the night was cool enough to cause a quick chill, all you felt was fire when his eyes fell to your lap. Oh. He… fuck. 

The pink tip of Frankie’s tongue slid between the seam of his lips to wet them, and then he was leaning down to reach for the bundle of blossoms still sitting in your lap. “So you caught these, huh?” His fingers skated intentionally over the thin mesh of your stockings, knuckles pressing down against your knee as he wrapped his grip around the stems of the flowers. 

It was all you could do not to openly moan at the look in his eyes and the presence of his large hand curled around the bouquet resting atop your legs. Swallowing hard, you blinked and nodded. “Mmhmm.” You took a breath that made your whole chest heave as he lifted the flowers away, keeping his eyes on the sliver of your upper leg that he’d just uncovered. “Sure did.” Benny threw them at me, but same difference. 

Flipping the bouquet onto the table, he brought his now empty hand back to your lap and curved it around your top leg. “Well, I think that’s our cue then.” 

Oh, is it? Your heart slammed to a stop as he used his grip to uncross your legs, but it sped up again as his fingers shifted from your thigh to your hand. He reached down for the other one and pulled you to your feet, his own planted so close to you that when you stood you were nearly chest to chest. He’d discarded his jacket earlier - it hung on the back of his chair instead of across his shoulders - and his sleeves had been uncuffed and rolled to the elbow, so when his arms went around you, you could easily feel the warmth of his body through the white button down he wore. Head swimming and pulse thrumming, you leaned into his hold and suddenly couldn’t wait to be upstairs. But I thought he said… 

“Thought you said one more drink.” Your voice was thin and wispy, your words dissolving into a hum as he ducked his head to kiss behind your ear. Not that I’m complaining. There was music playing, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t hear it over the thoughts racing through your head. “You just-” You gasped as his tongue swept over your skin. Oh, shit. You swallowed. “You just stood in line at the bar, and we haven’t said goodnight to-”   

You weren’t actually trying to convince him to stay any longer, and he knew it. “We’ll come back down for a drink in the lobby later,” he growled into your neck. “Say goodnight to ‘em then.” You could feel his warm breath on your skin, vibrating in your blood. “They’re not gonna notice we’re gone, trust me.” His facial hair dragged over your throat as he moved his mouth up to nip at your earlobe, teeth catching on the inner ridge of your ear. “Wanna see you in those sexy fucking things you got on.” That’s why I wore them. He doubled down then, lowering his tone even more, his words dripping directly into your soul to shake it. “Wanna feel that lace clamped around my head while I-” 

“Fuck, Frankie, let’s…” You panted out a breath, leaning your forehead into his shoulder as he let out a short chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s go.”  

As soon as the words were out of your mouth he was in motion, gathering up his jacket and handing you your purse. The small black rectangle swung from the strap with the force of his hasty grab, and you had to laugh, teeth biting down into your bottom lip. God, we’re like two horny kids, it’s…  Frankie’s wide palm settled firmly on your back then, steady and strong and you let him guide you through the cluster of tables and away from the reception area. It’s crazy how much I want him. 

His fingers flexed as he moved his hand around to your hip, and as the door to the hotel lobby slid open, you looked up at him and the heat that had been pooling in your lower belly flooded through your entire body. 

Because when he looked down at you, you saw, you felt - you knew - that he wanted you just as much. I’m yours, Frankie. 

–  –  –  

Your dress was over your head and on the floor within seconds of stepping into the room. Frankie’s hands worked quickly to bolt the lock before removing your clothing and landing at your waist. A groan rumbled deep in his throat to make a breath catch in yours. Oh, that- Your fists tightened in the material of his shirt as the gravelly sound he made stirred the embers in your belly into flame. Tipping your head back, his name left your lips in a sigh as your eyes clamped shut.  

“Finally got you to myself.” His large palms roved up your sides, fingers flexing into your flesh as he leaned in to pin you to the door. Ducking his head so that his lips hovered just over the pulse point on your neck, you felt the vibrations of each syllable as he spoke. “All to myself.” 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, hands blindly moving to the buttons on his shirt and undoing the few that were still fastened. You sure do. He mouthed along the slope of your shoulder and then back up your throat, smiling when he felt you swallow. His touch wandered around to your back, climbing up and over the clasp of your bra, and you were emboldened by the sound - and feel - of another of his groans. Tongue flicking out to wet your lips, you challenged him. “What are you gonna do about it, Morales?” 

When he lifted his head to lock his eyes with yours, there was no need for him to answer your question with words. Oh fuck. You saw the same dark veil of desire fall over them that had been there from the start - when all you had were late night fucks, no feelings, all fast moves and finding release. But behind that, now you saw something else. Something that both deepened and brightened that darkness currently overtaking his brown eyes. Because now it’s… now we- 

Frankie dropped his gaze then, letting it rake all the way down your form as he took half a step back. “Fuck,” he muttered, chest heaving as he took in the view of your body. You felt the way his eyes lingered on the lacy band of your thigh highs for a few seconds, as though he were tracing the patterns and memorizing the way they looked stretched over the muscles of your legs. Hands following the trail that his eyes were blazing, he let them both settle low on your hips, thumbs swiping over the thin material of your underwear and into the crease where your thigh met your pelvis. “Look at you.” 

His eyes snapped back up to yours then, and there it was - desire, but not just to take. Not just to have you in his hands and take you into his bed, but to take you apart, peel pleasure from you in spirals. You sucked in a breath, letting it out in a quick exhale that you were sure he felt fan across his lips and cheek. He didn’t have to answer your question with words, but he did anyway. 

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do about it?” His voice was deep and raspy as he asked, and it was all you could do to nod in response. He pressed his thumbs more firmly into the space they occupied, the tip of his tongue flicking out to dampen his lips. “Gonna make you forget all about going back downstairs for that drink.” 

You were going to say something teasing or clever. Something witty or flirty. But that was before the corner of Frankie’s mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin that teemed with mischief. That was before his hands coasted over your curves as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, chin tilted up so he could appreciate you from a new angle. When he looks at me like that it's… A thin whimper broke loose from your lips, your breathing starting to become quicker and more shallow as you let him overwhelm you. And he hasn’t even done anything yet. Fuck. Instead of anything like what you were planning on saying, you opted for his name as you combed your fingernails through his hair. 

“Yeah?” He let his right hand wander to the back of your left thigh, fingertips running over the textured lace there. You shook your head. “What drink?” 

He let out a short huff of laughter, and then you gasped as his right hand plunged downwards between the elastic and your skin, the sheer fabric stretching over his knuckles as he gripped your flesh. “These are…” His other palm slid down the outside of your right leg, his eyes following his own movement. They widened, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your calf, and then he lifted his gaze back up to find yours. “I like these.” Leaning forward, he laid his lips to the skin of that thigh, just above the edge of the band holding the barely-there garment up. You sighed at the warm drag of his mouth along the lace. “Like you in these.” 

He turned his face to give the same attention to your opposite thigh, the hair on his head brushing the skin he’d just lavished with his tongue and lips, the hair on his cheek and chin tickling your other leg as he kissed you there as well. That feels… Your eyes fell shut as your hand found its way into his curls, fingers weaving between them, and you let out a hum. “Thought you might, Frankie.” You opened your eyes again, lids heavy as you looked down at him. He tilted his head back to rest his chin on your kneecap. “Hoped you would.” 

“Did you?” He squeezed you gently as he asked, both hands kneading into your muscle. You responded with a whispered yes. “Well, as usual,” he mumbled, pausing to place another kiss to the inside of your left thigh, the sensation causing you to let out a breathless sigh, “you were right.” You shivered as you felt the light scrape of his teeth over the skin he’d just been focused on. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy all night knowing you had these on under that dress and-” You nearly went boneless as he pressed his forehead and nose to the front of your right thigh, groaning into your skin. “And that you put ‘em on for me.” 

“I did.” You practically panted out the words as your hands fell to his shoulders. Why is he still wearing clothes? “Did it in the car when I got here. Put ‘em on so you could take them off me, Frankie.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna. Wanna take everything off you.” His eyes flicked up to the matching black lingerie set that you wore, following the scalloped edges that hugged the swell of your breasts. “Just not yet.” 

He nuzzled higher up towards the apex of your thighs, his hot breath setting you ablaze as you suddenly realized - at the same time he did - that you were already soaked at just the hint of what was to come. Oh, fuck. 

The starving sound in his voice as he said your name cracked you open and turned everything inside of you to molten liquid. 

Oh, fuck, I… he-  His eyes flashed and then fell shut as his tongue pressed flat against the material of your underwear, and you couldn’t contain your moan if your life depended on it. And he wants to hear it. He swore under his breath, the string of half coherent curses vibrating through the damp material and sending sparks into your bloodstream. 

“Gonna start with these, though.” His tongue teased the edge of them, pushing beneath the elastic as he reached for the waistband with both hands. Teeth catching on the hem, he grinned and they snapped back against your skin. You inhaled sharply in a hiss as his fingers hooked in the band, the sparks in your veins bursting in tingling explosions. Wait! He needs to… he’s still dressed and - “They’re in my way. Wanna make you come on my tongue and-”

“Fuck, Frankie, wa- wait.” You gripped his shoulders, swallowing hard as your heart thundered and your head spun. Wetting your lips, you blinked down at him and took a few deep breaths. 

Hands stilling where he touched you, he leaned back to look up, eyes connecting instantly with yours. “You okay? What’s-” 

Before the crease between his brows could fully deepen, you shook your head and gave him a dizzy smile. “I’m fine.” Way more than fine. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “Feeling kind of underdressed though.” Pulling at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, you raised one eyebrow. “C’mon, Frankie, take this off. I want to… need to touch you.” Your voice warbled in your throat as he leaned forward to brush a kiss right below your navel, that molten heat you felt before responding to his lips by pooling in that spot. 

You whimpered, imagining him trying to lick at that heat with his tongue. He released a throaty sigh and though you couldn’t be sure, you had a feeling he was imagining the same thing. 

You didn’t have to ask him twice to take his shirt off, and you knew it was because he was just as eager to feel your hands on his skin as you were to put them there. He stood at your urging, letting you help him with the few remaining buttons, and then your hands were slipping under the open sides of his shirt as his found their home near your hips. Moving your palms over his chest and up towards his shoulders, you shucked the dress shirt down onto his biceps, your touch roving around to his back. As soon as his torso was bared he pulled you flush to his body, and then it was your turn to trail your lips in places that made him hum and groan. Because I’ve been waiting all night for this, too. 

As the thought crossed your mind Frankie’s hips rolled into yours, and the feel of him - hard and thick and making his pants work to contain him - pulled another sound from you, this one grittier, needier, as you nipped at his jaw. Fuck, I’ve never… Your hands went back to the crooks of his elbows, where the sleeves of his shirt still hung on his frame, and you pushed them down his forearms. Never wanted anyone as much as I want this man. 

“Easy, killer.” He teased, using one hand to free the other from his sleeves and then switching so that his shirt finally dropped to the floor. Your fingers had flown to the zipper on his pants, fumbling with the button there by the time he encircled your wrists, his grip strong but gentle as he stroked your pulse point with his thumb. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He eased your hands away from his fly, leaving it open as he used his hold on you to lead you fully into the room. After a few steps, he turned you so that you were in front of him, and then instead of pulling, he lightly pushed you until you felt the edge of the mattress behind your legs. “And neither are you.” 

He pushed a little more firmly, just enough to make you tip backwards onto the bed, a small string of laughter spilling from you as the mattress bounced beneath your body. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as Frankie finished what you’d started with his pants. They fell around his ankles and then he stepped out of them, his grin growing wolfish as he closed the distance to kneel at the foot of the bed. 

“Now -” His palms slid up the sides of your thighs so that his fingers could find the band of your underwear again. “Think we were right… about…” Curling his digits, he tugged the material to pull it down, exposing your damp skin to the cool air of the hotel room and making you suck in a breath. “Here.” 

The last word came as his mouth descended on you, and within minutes you were ready to give him what he said he wanted before he took your tights off, your release slicking his chin and lips as one of your heels pressed into the shoulder blade that it was thrown over. When he finally lifted his head to look up at you, you panted out his name, breathless already. But I want more, I want- 

You wanted to feel him fill you, stretch you, needed him deeper than his tongue could delve. You wanted to watch the way his throat tightened as you clenched around him, wanted to see the way bliss blew the blackness in the center of his eyes outward towards the edges. You wanted to feel his muscles work against and with your own before they went slack and soft, needed the contrast of climax and the caresses that would follow. 

You wanted to fuck and then fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved with every cell in your being as the lazy sound of waves rolling up onto the sand floated through the balcony door.  

But before you could reach for him to coax him up towards you, he used the shoulder that was still under your leg to scoot you higher up on the bed. “M’not done with you yet.” One eyebrow pitched into an arch as he shook his head. “Not even close.” Shrugging your thigh down into the crook of his arm, he turned his face to press his lips - still partially coated in you - to your skin. “Gotta take these off, remember?” Moving his head and angling his chin, he opened his mouth and bit the lacey edge of your stockings. “S’why you put them on, right?” 

It sure fucking is. Frankie. All you could do was nod. 

Keeping the lace between his teeth, Frankie began to move slowly towards your ankle, peeling the fabric down over your knee. He paused there, lips grazing your skin, the bottom one obscured by the nylon that was stretched over it making the upper one feel warmer and softer. Oh, fuck. You let out a hum that you knew he heard, his eyes lifting from what he was doing to find yours as his hands continued to roam - one over your thigh, the other dragging down over your abdomen. 

“You like that?” His voice was a low, gritty rasp, the heat from his breath getting trapped between the sheer fabric and your skin, spreading down your shin. 

“Yeah,” you panted. “Feels good, Frankie.” 

That was an understatement. It felt like a goddamned blessing to know that this man wanted nothing more than to be undressing you with his teeth. That the only place he wanted to be in that moment - and he could be anywhere in the entire world - was right between your legs, tangled up in your limbs. It made you feel invincible and indestructible to know that he’d chosen you, that you had given your whole self to him and he’d accepted every piece of you, that he’d placed those pieces in his heart. It felt like pure passion and trust to love and be loved by Frankie Morales, especially when this was how he chose to show you. 

I fucking love him so much. 

He finally released his bite, letting go of the stocking which was bunched near your ankle, and then slipped two fingers between it and your skin to yank it off of your foot. “Gonna take the other one off, too.” 

At that, you groaned, the sound turning into a desperate whine. “No, Frankie, don’t… don’t tease. Need to… need, fuck, Frankie, I can’t wait any-” 

His chuckle was dark and deep and breathless. “Neither can I.” At that, he moved up the bed, reaching for a small box on the nightstand next to his wallet that you hadn’t noticed earlier - condoms, you realized in a haze as he tore open the package and deftly rolled the rubber over his length - and then he placed his lips next to your ear. “Gonna take the other one off… after.”

–  –  –  

It was late morning by the time the two of you made it back down to the lobby, the hotel staff busily tending to the continental breakfast buffet that you could see Pope, Yovanna, Will and a few of the girls from the bridal party partaking in, and as you let Frankie lead you over towards them, his hand solidly placed on the small of your back as Pope’s voice carried across the space ribbing the two of you with “Look what the cat dragged in!”, you could only think of two things - one, that Frankie had been right about the two of you not making it back for a goodnight drink, and two, that the pair of stockings now laying ruined on the floor of your room had been the best fashion choice you’d ever made in your life.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or by filling out the form on my masterlist :)    

tags:  @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @alraedesigns @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura​ @thescarletfang​ ​ @trickstersp8​ @princessxkenobi​ @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @theredwritingwitch​ @silverstarsandsuns​ @competentpotato​

[altruistic-meme]

im not going to acknowledge how much i LOVE writing Erik in Crown Prince mode. but. it's so fun.

(From chapter 2 of "I've Got You, Brother")

[kiwi-peep]

Ghostface is drenched coming back from a trial

[care666bear]

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[kotofeden]

Happy unnecessary feelings day pals 💖💖💖

[iced-souls]

Uhm, possible spoilers i think for Marble Sky [made by @somerandomdudelmao in which you should go and check out if you haven’t read rn cause they be very cool very cool and very cool]

but—OMG I LOVE THIS BIRB AUUUHGHGHHGUGHUHURHUEHGI—

IN WHICH THEY ARE PERFECTLY FINE AND WE SEE SO SO MUCH OF THEM NYYYGUUH—

Guys guys guys — please trust meee she is A-OK and she is gonna be a teacher to Oscar as they make a pacifist alien befriending club

I am not in denial i have no clue what you’re talking about—

I ain’t got a clue what these so called ‘jars’ even look like yet but i sketched a thing out immediately and then at that point my intrigueness started to fade, and then the ref came out and for some reason that boosted my interest even further. But i know what a bird’s brain looks like now so thats something.

I just think she seems very cool

I may have also did some other doodles a week or 2 ago that i didn’t post cause the social of anxiety was kickin in high those days but I’ll put them under the cut if thou wishes to see

That is all ok buh byyeeee go see marble skiessssss

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit. 

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be. 

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone. 

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action. 

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real. 

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery. 

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting. 

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months. 

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family. 

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down. 

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared. 

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs. 

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of. 

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school. 

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are. 

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use). 

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is. 

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried. 

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience. 

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment. 

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant. 

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous. 

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine. 

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest. 

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect. 

Fuck. She is nervous. 

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon! 

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it. 

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best. 

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping. 

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading. 

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago. 

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right? 

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts. 

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace? 

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot. 

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving. 

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet? 

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. 

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb. 

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. 

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do. 

Fucking finally. 

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

Marry My Husband Text posts, 1/?

[north-noire]

if they are men, what are we then? a bunch of daisies? (scrapbook art)

[persephonaae]

TERFs GO AWAY I’m nonbinary and as this is a look that is about exploring my own identity, gender is included in that. I’m not a woman, I am not your “divine feminine”. An edit I wish I didn’t have to make.

Here are some of the pictures of the Minoan/Mycenaean look I did yesterday! Mind you, it's all very generalized since I haven't made any clothing studies from these time periods yet, so I had just grabbed random clothes and jewelry from my closet that I could at least pass off as the ~vibe~ . I went for a pretty simple interpretation of makeup back then and ended up not really putting a whole lot on my face before the decorative elements, just a very thin amount of white foundation, but even so I figured my skin is pretty pale as it is that if this were historical I probably would have just been fairly bare faced anyway in a similar fashion. I tried to stay pretty close to how makeup might be applied back then and not go too anachronistic, and if I did it was for photographic or artistic purposes (namely, light contouring on my nose not for any sort of like, modern feature minimization, but to make sure my own Greek ethnic features weren't flattened by lighting levels or camera perspective)

Overall this was a really fun exploration of historic culture! Seeing the finished makeup on myself kind of brought over this cultural euphoria for me, even though many things have changed since ancient Mediterranean civilizations, there's almost a feeling of sameness in exploring the history of your heritage and seeing someone who looks or feels like you in ancient art. (But also a brief little disclaimer: the Mediterranean has been an extremely diverse region for thousands of years! I'm just one way of looking and that absolutely isn't representative of all people of Greece, neither then nor now!) I want to explore more historical fashions within this realm, and next time try a more extreme version of the makeup, something that feels more on the ceremonial side than casual like this one.

[spotaus]

If you're still accepting requests, you could draw Cross x Lust?

Hello anon! Definitely still accepting requests! And I need you to know that this request literally short-circuited my brain, because I rendered all of these doodles 🙏

Cross X Lust was Not on my bingo board of things I'd draw, but the combo just settled in my head and felt Super Right and I got to sketching and realized I really liked their energy and just... didn't stop drawing! Thank you SO MUCH for the request! (They give me the vibes of Cross being the one who insists on being chivalrous and very protective, while Lust gets some freedom to relax and be himself and get pampered a bit! Idk if I explained it right, but it makes sense in my brain-)

[a-mongooose]

A dump of things I drew since the last post! i am so normal about them. I AM SO NORMAL   ABOUT THEM . totally not making cosplays of julie and sally . it is not true  ! if u want to use as pfps, feel free to! just pls credit me :p alsooo if you have any requests for the silly goofies, my asks should be open, go crazy in there 

[ryssbelle]

The Brozone Misconception

(This picture is more a joke don't take it too seriously)

This is a kind of long analysis, deep dive, and discussion about certain fandom misconceptions. I am 100 percent open for discussion but I would ask that you read the whole thing first before reaching out, and please be respectful!

A link to the og google doc with images as tumblr image limit killed part of the essay XD

Essay under the cut

There is a common misconception in a small subset of the trolls fandom about the character of Brozone. That is their reaction and treatment of Branch, their overall purpose in the story, and whether or not Branch should have forgiven them. Whether or not their trauma born toxic traits which they aim to grow out of should be forgiven or not.

Let’s begin with an analysis of the beginning, middle, and end of their arc progression more or less.

We start with our favorite problem child, Jonathan Dorian, mounting the pressure of tonight's show, building expectations, and showing us, the audience, a bit of what goes on every time these guys perform: 

Making Bruce do 100 more push ups in the time before showtime (1 minute) 

Pressuring Clay to wear the funderdrawers even tho he clearly doesn’t want to 

Rebuffing floyds attempts to calm himself down

And his worst crime

Making Baby Branch Nervous

Now you could see all of these and think “Evil! Evil John Dory! Jail for John DOry for 1000 years!!” because he is being oh so toxic. Now JD’s main motivation for pushing his brothers so hard in this moment has to do with the “Perfect Family Harmony” which according to baby Branch no one has ever hit before

And you can see the strain it puts on the other brothers not just through the scenes i showed before but Clay literally tells us

John Dory not only sees it as a great achievement, but he is putting his own and his families self worth all on whether or not they accomplish the perfect family harmony

(ignore the crappy cropping image limits)

And when they fail he blames it on them not following his lead 

He still believes after all of that that they can successfully complete the Perfect Family harmony 

This looks to be about the first time the brothers air their grievances out to their older brother about how they actually feel about not only completing the harmony, but the direction of the band itself.

All of this happens within the heat of the moment, and only continues to get worse as when confronted with all of this Negativity JD decides to leave. You can see by his facial expressions in the above screenshots he was already feeling terrible about the situation as a whole. Animation is very show don’t tell just as much as live action is, it’s very important for storytelling as a whole. A character should not have to SAY they are remorseful for you to be able to see it.

So JD leaves leading his other brothers to leave as well. Ironically they are following his lead badum dum dum. 

Now we can assume this is probably par for the course for these guys, cuz Grandma is right there, and she just lets them leave, you say plot convenience I say subtle story telling/ It is implied they do this all the time and will eventually come back. (they don’t)

(Also ignore this image its also a silly and not serious XD)

Now you may be thinking, Ricky, you say that Brozone is not toxic, yet you show us the worst examples of their character. Listen dear reader, this is only the beginning, what I’ve shown you is merely the establishment of the eventual conflict that will be part of the driving force behind character growth and the story itself. 

Let’s move on to adulthood. The main arguments against Brozone happen here, other than the initial abandonment of Branch, which, I should remind you, happened when the oldest among them was still a teenager (teenagers are dumb). 

In this section I also have to mention another movie, and another character, as he is usually brought up in these discussions 

Creek

Creek is usually used as a comparison to the Brozone bros in the argument that Brozone is EVIL AND TOXIC AND UNFORGIVABLE and Creek by comparison should be seen in a better light and not deserve the hate. To be honest I have never seen the level of hate that has been given to Brozone leveled at Creek in the slightest. He is canonically a toxic character, and one who is incredibly self serving which a majority of the fandom recognize and vibe with. Creeks admittedly rancid personality is a massive factor in his appeal (at least for me), and that is kind of the point of his character: To be awful and unforgivable. Creek wasn’t made as your average side character, Creek was specifically made to be an antagonist, to be a contrast to one of our main protagonists, Branch. That is why they are always at odds with each other within both 3D media and 2D media. 

Taken from the trolls wiki

Creek has also shown disregard for Branch’s hobbies in the main show, tossing his puzzle into the fire. This was during Haircuffed, when Creek didn’t want to do Branch’s puzzle

Which you think not so bad, its just a puzzle! Well…

Puzzle’s have incredible significance to Branch, a comfort object if you will, and another way to feel connected to his Grandma. Now you might cry “Creek didn’t know it was significant! He can’t be held responsible for that!” HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO KNOW THE TRAUMA BEHIND THE PUZZLE TO NOT DESTROY THE PUZZLE.

Conversely let's look at the Brothers:

Throughout the course of the film they are a bit rude to Branch and dismissive of him:

JD:

Bruce:

Clay:

(You could argue the face grabbing is just a troll thing cuz)

But anyway

These scenes are minor things that add up during the course of the film for the purpose of showing off the traits they will put aside and grow out of for the sake of each other.

(brb reading xmen)

Lets talk about Xmen, you think JD is bad well watch this

Bam!

Anyway

Before we tackle the entire argument scene let’s first tackle the individual character of each of the bros, Specifically: John Dory, and Bruce, who are most criticized for their actions.

John Dory is one of the first brothers we see return in the film, and his first and foremost objective is to collect Branch so that they can go get their other brothers to rescue Floyd. Some have called John Dory uncaring for his younger brothers, but if that were the case why start the rescue mission at all? An uncaring brother would just ignore the letter and go on with his life, but John Dory literally drops everything just to go rescue his little brother. The letter even specified getting the other brothers first, but John Dory goes alone to get Floyd out of danger as fast as possible only retrieving the other bros when he fails (and cuz he didnt know where they were, can’t waste time when you got a brother to save)

A brother who didn’t care about his family wouldn’t go through all this effort. Some would say he’s only doing it for appearances sake, but for whom? Him and his brothers have been out of the limelight for 20 years, JD especially has been isolated in the neverglades, who is he trying to impress with this? No one, he’s just a good brother.

Also a reminder! When thinking about breaking Floyd out he is not the first to bring up the harmony! Floyd is, John Dory had a much more clever idea

So it's not just to complete the harmony either.

He’s also held on to all the merch from their Brozone days, mementos of his family, it shows how he cares, but also the flaw he aims to overcome: his desperate attempt to cling to the past, the better days.

Now let's go to Bruce, easily the most scrutinized of the brothers (because of the baby comment) 

When he first sees his brothers again this is his reaction: 

(Another point for JD, got ignored but is more happy to see his bros getting along)

Bruce is excited to introduce them to his family, excited to reconnect.

(Note: At this point tumblr stopped allowing images so i will be giving descriptions along with a link to the original google doc for reference purposes these are screenshots from the movie)

Cut image: Bruce introducing his wife to his brothers "These are my brothers, unexpectedly"

(Still excited and immediately introduces them to his wife despite them being “unexpected”)

Cut Image: Brandy saying "It's so nice to finally meet you"

“It’s so nice to finally meet you” Implies that he’s talked about them at length and the possibility of them meeting up with one another.

Also all of his kids completely ignore their mom, just to ask their father something, or tell on their sibling, or ask for his help as seen in this entire clip

With the ketchup kid he assures his kid he will handle it (and yes Brandy had to handle it but um rescue mission?) and that he loves them he just needs a bit of time to address, um who was it again? His brothers, right…

Bruce is argued as being incredibly selfish, I had seen a meme once that had suggested Bruce would let his own children die before he would give up his own life, which is horrendous and blatantly untrue. Bruce only tries to turn away his brothers when John Dory brings up the perfect family harmony and that’s before he knows it's for Floyd, once he finds out it’s for Floyd he is immediately on board! His biggest concern about the harmony at this time is how they’re going to do it. 

As for “abandoning his family again” Bruce is going on a rescue mission, which he asks his wife before hand if it is alright

Which she approves, he also agrees to cover for a WHOLE MONTH for the yoga retreat (Also seen in the clip above)

He spends the majority of the journey caring for Tiny Diamond as well, he lets Tiny into his hair, carries him around in a baby sling he’s a dad to any kid who needs him.

Clay doesn’t get as much scrutiny as either of the older bros, most likely due to his inability to leave the golf course and the fact he apologizes to Branch at the end. There are many things that mimic the same in the ending scene but let’s address the points brought up within the argument that people use to claim the evilness of Brozone. 

Also fun reminder, Clay is the one to start the fight, Not John Dory, not Bruce, Clay just a fun note (he is a lil problematic and argumentative and thats why i love him)

Clay brings up John Dory being bossy which sets everyone off into a tangent about the past, past actions that they think are resurfacing

Cut image, the beginning of the argument:

Clay: No. No, dude. You’re forcin' us to be perfect, just like you always have, so we can hit the perfect family harmony.

John Dory: Yeah. For Floyd.

Bruce: Is it? Or is this all just so you can tell people what to do again?

John Dory: Wha What?

_

Bruce: This isn’t gonna work if you keep on bein' the same old John Dory.

We all know John Dory’s reason for being “bossy” ; his reason for his perfection, once done out of an effort to impress, is now one out of necessity. They need to be perfect because now someone can die, and the others can’t see that due to their own trauma at the hands of JD’s perfectionism. 

As shown way at the beginning of the essay, all of the brothers suffered at the hands of JD’s past obsession, Bruce had to look a certain way pushing his body past its limits, Clay had to act a certain way disregarding his own happiness to keep up an image, Floyd was ignored and his advice pushed aside, and Branch was pushed to be perfect when he was only about 2 years old (or a month old if you go by the brozone blog). JD also suffered, pushing himself to make song after song, mentally exhausting himself and inadvertently hurting his brothers in the process of doing what he thinks is right for them. 

JD also had the responsibility (as a teen) to parent all of his younger brothers:

Cut Image:

John Dory: Well, I’m not allowed to change. I’m the oldest. I had to be the leader.

John Dory: Why do you think I moved to the middle of nowhere? So I didn’t have to be in charge of anyone. Four little brothers is a lot of responsibility.

You could argue it's his responsibility as the oldest but Grandma was right there, they shouldn’t be his sole responsibility. 

When most of them left it was done out of self preservation, to protect their sanity and to finally find happiness outside of a place that was no longer bringing it to them. They were kind of acting how most would want Branch to act, they cut out the toxic family for their own safety. 

Bruce:

Cut image:

Bruce: [stammers] Why do you think I left? So no one would treat me like you did.

Clay: 

Cut Image:

Clay: I’m gonna find trolls who take me seriously. Next to Clay is a picture of himself in a graduation cap

(Also that is Clays graduation photo, they are all around teen years in  the prologue which means this is either a middle school graduation photo or he graduated early and is still not taken seriously, which as someone who also faces that [only being seen one way despite your achievements] is incredibly discouraging and soul destroying) 

They most likely didn’t return due to the fact they didn’t want to be faced with this kind of treatment again (golf course entrapment aside) 

(Now you’re probably wondering about Floyd and he’s a whole other post, this is mostly focusing on the brothers who receive the most criticism due to misrepresentation)

During the argument they talk about going their separate ways, it is admittedly harsh they way they talk about leaving again, but they never say they’re leaving forever. Bruce has to return to his wife and kids, Clay left the golf course without one of its leaders, JD has his own life and routine, of course they’d go back to it once it was over, but that doesn’t mean visiting is off the table, and that they’d never see each other again. 

Cut Image: John Dory: What? The mission’s the mission. [chuckles] You didn’t think we’d all live together when this was all over, did you? Singin' songs and roastin' marshmallows?

Again i recognize JD is being an asshole here, but he is only knocking the idea of living together off the table, which kind of understandable they’re all adults with their own lives they don’t need to live together, I don’t get mad at my sister for going back to her house when shes done visiting. But again it is more how they say it then what they’re saying

Cut Image:

Branch: [scoffs] Oh, I’m sorry. Is that funny to you? That I might want us to actually be a family again? Tiny Diamond, pull over. Now.

Seen is JD's look of regret

You can see on his face that he regrets what he said when Branch says this, when he gets angry at him, he didn’t mean it like that. Thats when the don’t be a baby comment comes in, they still don’t actually understand why he’s upset, they think he’s acting childish, they don’t recognize he’s changed yet

Cut Image: The bros reaction upon hearing of grandmas death

These are their faces when they hear what Branch has been through, they obviously are upset, they’re hurt on his behalf, they are remorseful, this and their future actions signify the shift from who they were (hurt kids turned hurt adults, fighting over their past trauma) 

After Branch leaves, they, on their own accord, continue the mission to save Floyd, which is how they get caught, and during the final climax control freak JD relinquishes control, having changed and lets Branch take the lead. This is after Branch reminds them they don’t have to be perfect to be in harmony, just to be as they are together which they AGREE

Cut Image:

JD: We'll follow your lead, Branch

Once they save Floyd we are brought to Bruce’s restaurant, he brings them there to host their reunion, there is where branch gets encouragement from JD, where Clay apologizes, where Floyd reminisces and you can see JD engaging with his brothers more than just encouraging Branch he has joined Clays sad book club

Cut Image: JD reading a sad book behind Branch and Clay talking about said book club

This isn’t the end of their reconnection, this is only the beginning. They still have lots of time to grow, and to become closer as family. 

Now lets head back to Creek for a moment before we close this off:

We have brought up the puzzle destruction and his purpose as an antagonist. The main argument most people use is that Creek had no other choice but to sell out his entire race to be eaten and killed to save himself. He had a choice, Branch would’ve let himself get eaten if it meant protecting all of troll village as noticed when he protects poppy in twt (though he might’ve actually found another way out), Poppy would’ve as well. In tbt Floyd begs each of his brothers who meets him before the climax to let him die so they don’t face the same fate, these are all selfless acts. Creek reacts selfishly, eat everyone else but don’t eat me, then he smugly confronts Poppy, obnoxiously laments about how he has to live with his actions when if he were a truly good and selfless character wouldn't have been an issue. He smiles smugly, shrugs his shoulders, and lets himself be carried to safety when his people look at his betrayal with disbelief and sadness. 

Creeks actions in the 1st movie are awful, they’re supposed to be, they’re meant to be unforgivable crimes, and that is why he is killed in the 3D canon, legit he is dead in the 3D canon. 2D and 3D are different continuities, which is part of why I find them (Brozone and Creek) to be mostly incomparable.

Brozone’s arc only affects Branch and each other and in the end they grow stronger, and into better people. Creeks arc/actions affect an entire species and their survival, within the 2D continuity his actions only continue to be self serving, and rather toxic (more for funsies but you know) he should not have been forgiven, but he was. His actions were deplorable yet forgiven which then begs the question why aren’t Brozones? Creek also wrote the apology song solely to humiliate Branch in front of his friends which is not cool bro, Branch did not deserve the treatment he got in the episode from anyone. 

To conclude my thoughts are that Creek and Brozones actions are incomparable, Creek’s actions are not meant to be taken in a positive or sympathetic light, he is a villain cut and dry, that is who he was made to be and he does it wonderfully. I don’t hate Creek, I love his character, he is awful and that is great! Love toxic awful characters! Brozone are a representation of a broken family coming together again, they are toxic, and then they grow, they are meant to do so, the villains of that movie are Velvet, Veneer, and familial trauma all of which get mended by the end of the film. It’s not perfect but its there, and the ignorance of it is what causes these major misconceptions. 

TL;DR Learn media literacy please

[oosey0]

happy halloween! here's an ivantill urusei yatsura au to celebrate the holidays

[tenderlyhands]

just a little appreciation for my current fave enbys from one enby to another :)