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ryiju-muunie · 9 months ago

Note

i just had this idea 5 sec ago and i know you are the best one to do it !!

boxer sukuna X reporter reader

hint ;) she interviewed him after he won the match ,first time he meet her

Got No Ass But She a D Cup!

18+ viewer discretion advised

Fem!reporter!reader/boxer!Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: dubious consent, cock warming, reverse cowgirl but seated, hookup, pet names [mama, babe] Word count: 1598 DESC: You meet Ryomen and instantly cave

I'm back (I'm lying)

You knew Ryomen Sukuna, but you didn’t expect him to be so forward. He was a famous boxer who was known for beating the ever-loving shit out of every one of his opponents. No mercy, that was his tagline. Every person he went up against instantly went down and ended up in a pool of their blood. It was hot, you had to admit it. He was a girl's dream. Perfect arms sculpted by gods. Veins popping out at every flex, covered in ink. Intricate designs wove back and forth between almost every crevice of Sukuna’s body, trailing up to his neck, stopping just short of his jaw. His chest was known for being rock solid and made of pure muscle mass. Six-pack, or .. maybe it was an eight-pack? Either way, it was obvious he was ripped from the tight shirts he’d sport before a match. The man’s face was even chiseled. With a jawline perfectly accentuating his square and sharp features.

He just finished a match utterly destroying some up-and-coming boxer, tanking his career before the crowd's eyes. It was amazing as you watched it, a few punches, and the boy went down. You were going to interview him, the infamous boxer … and infamous playboy. Ryomen was known for saying the right thing to make girls swoon and he was known for being forward. You didn’t realize he’d be as forward as he was, though. You adjusted your tight outfit and paced a few times in a spare room, waiting for him. There was a table set up, two chairs, your tape recorder set on the table, and your flash cards. Everything would be typed up, so you didn’t need a camera or crew.

Your thoughts soon got interrupted when the door opened. You turned your head and watched as the man entered, pink hair flushed against his forehead. He looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected someone of your stature to be there before him. Usually, when Ryomen would get interviewed it would be some older man. Not a beautiful broad standing before him, with her tits on display. You knew what you were doing, hoping to get his number by the end of the interview. You knew it when you did your hair and makeup, and then picked out a revealing but professional outfit.

“Hey,” he gruffed, closing the door behind him and locking it with a click. Although, you didn’t hear the click. He took up so much space it was insane, just from his height alone. You watched him as he sat down at one of the chairs and spread his legs, sinking into the seat. Ryomen’s shirt was tight, so tight that you could see every muscle and every curve out of his perfect body.

“Hi,” you smiled and pushed a strand of hair away from your face. You introduced yourself and the station you were from, before continuing, “Is it okay if we record this session? I need it if I’m going to be writing an article.” You motioned to the recorder on the table as you went to sit down across from him.

“That’s fine,” Sukuna nodded, and you clicked it on, “I got a question for you though. Are we going to continue this interview facing each other… or shall we do it more intimately?” His large hand then patted one of his thighs. You didn’t expect this. In all of your preparation, you didn’t expect him to outright ask you to sit on his lap. And you didn’t expect him to do it so nonchalantly. It was as if this wasn’t his first rodeo, it definitely wasn’t, and it was as if you weren’t the first reporter he was coming onto, you definitely weren’t.

“Intimately?” You questioned, feigning ignorance.

Ryomen leaned forward in the seat, bringing one of his hands along with him. His elbow trailed along the table and rested his head in his hand. While his other hand snaked around your recorder and pressed pause, “Cut the bullshit, mama. And sit on my damn lap.” Anyone else, you would’ve felt violated. Harassed even. But this was hot. It made your plush thighs squeeze together to try and satiate the throbbing in your pussy. It started quickly and rose in heat at every passing second. What were you going to do? You could say no and end it right there. But you didn’t want to at all. You wanted to sit on his lap and feel his warm breath against your neck.

You stood up and marched over to the man, turning and going to sit on his lap. But you felt a hand stop you, “Take 'em off,” you heard him purr. Your pants? Your underwear? This was totally wrong and totally dubious, yet you wanted to see where it would go. You stripped, taking off your pants and laced panties, presenting your ass for him to see. Ryomen grabbed your hip and squeezed it, palming the skin a few times to get a feel for it. You looked back and he had already freed his cock from his gym shorts. Typical man, couldn’t wait a few seconds. He was large and hot, and it was getting you more hot every second you chose to stare at his dick. His other hand grabbed your other hip and slowly walked you backward, and soon he was aligning his penis with your folds. It tingled, how your genitals met and instantly clicked.

“We’re still doing the interview… right?” You inhaled sharply as he forced you down on his length. A gasp flew out of your mouth as you felt your pussy get stretched very slowly. He gently maneuvered you to sit, cradling your waist so you wouldn’t fall. He was so gentle, making sure this was a pleasurable experience all around for the both of you. Ryomen was good. He was so good at this. A playboy who knew how to fuck women so good and leave them begging for more.

You felt his mouth press into your neck, “Ask away, babe.” You leaned forward, exhaling at the sensation. Two of your small hands interlocked with his large one and removed the recorder from his grasp, turning it back on.

“What.. mm.. Inspired your fighting style?” You leaned back, moaning slightly at the sensation. You were being filled, it was so hot. Was this really the peak of interviewing? Was this really the peak of your life?

Ryomen exhaled and blew some air out of his mouth, responding with a bored answer about a fighter you hadn’t heard of before. The two of you did a good back and forth, about fighting and how his career truly started. He had only been doing this for a few years, so he still had so much to learn. At each question, you felt him get handsier and handsier. Two meaty hands planted on your hips, rocking you back and forth, and back and forth. It was a fleeting teasing sensation. Not enough to make you cum or feel anything, but enough to have you faltering in your sentences and stuttering consistently. You wanted to start bouncing or grinding, but you didn’t want to ruin the sensual air the two of you had created. You could tell he was starting to get restless, though, as his hands tightened on your skin.

“Ryomen…” You finally broke, turning your head to look back at him. Hazy eyes staring back at you, his mouth slightly agape, and a blush forming on his temples, “Why don’t we.. mm.. Pause the h-h.. Interview…? H-huh?” Your voice was fluttery and breathy, brushing against his ear in an arousing way.

“Mm.. I like the sound of that, mama,” a long and lazy smile formed on his mouth as he pressed a chaste kiss to yours. You weren’t prepared for his hands to force you up and then down on his shaft, forcing a pleasurable sting down your cunt. Up and down, and up and down. You gasped and threw your head back against his, moaning softly at the sensation.

“Ry..Ryom-mmm.. M.. h-h.. Hah … harde-e-er,” you rasped at the pleasure, and he didn’t have to be told twice. His hips thrust into your pussy slowly, before speeding up. Sure, he wanted to get you adjusted and content. But he was fiending for release. He was fiending to cum inside your pussy. It was hot and warm, clenching around his shaft in a way most women didn’t. In a way, most women couldn’t. You were different, you were so soft and you smelt like cherries. It sent waves of pleasure through his cock, tingling at his tip.

It was only a few seconds before his arms wrapped around your torso, hips snapping up into your ass. Two meaty hands gripped your breasts through your tight shirt, making you moan in pleasure. It wasn’t long after that, that you felt yourself spill over the edge and cum on his dick. Your juices felt so nice, so sticky, it made him cum a few seconds later. Squelching and plapping filled the air, along with faint groans from Ryomen. You felt the semen shoot into you, instantly snapping you to the fact you forgot to have the boxer put a condom on. The raw feeling of his penis rubbing up against your walls was so.. hot.. you just didn’t think about it.

“Oh fuck,” Ryomen muttered into your ear, slowing his thrusts to a stop, “You’re on birth control right?”

“…Nope,” you replied sheepishly.

“Aw shit.”ry

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.5k

Chapter summary: Desperate to pay off her student loans, she downloads a dating app with a twist, and makes an interesting match.

She sighs, her eyes scanning over the PDF of her payslip for the month, before locking her phone and letting it drop heavily onto the kitchen counter.

“Bad news?” Mysaria quirks an eyebrow, sliding a glass of wine across to her.

“These student loan repayments are fucking killing me. I’ve basically worked an entire week for free this month.” She complains, taking a huge swig from her glass.

“Bummer.” Her flatmate says. “Any way I can help?”

“Unless your mattress is secretly stuffed full of cash, no. Super Noodles for me for the rest of the month, once I’ve paid my share of the rent.”

“You could give being a sugar baby a try?” Mysaria says with a smirk over the rim of her wine glass.

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, or take up pole dancing lessons and become a stripper!”

“I’m being serious.” Mysaria, puts her glass down and pulls out her phone, flicking to the App Store and typing. “See? There are loads of apps, why not give it a try?”

“Isn’t that just prostitution?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“Hey!” Mysaria chides. “Sex work is real work, but this isn’t prostitution. Most of these guys are just desperate, lonely guys who earn big bucks and are willing to spoil you in exchange for a conversation or a few selfies. You don’t even have to sleep with any of them…unless you want to.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

Even if she did go through with it, she was inexperienced, and would surely be a disappointment to any potential sugar daddies she might attract. She’d had one boyfriend in her entire life, it had lasted six months and they’d never gone beyond unsatisfying quickies that focused entirely on his pleasure. The idea of taking money from a stranger in order to pay her bills makes her incredibly uneasy.

They’re half way through their second bottle of wine as she scrolls through her phone. Mysaria is snoring softly on the sofa next to her, while an episode of some trashy reality TV show plays away to itself in the background.

Her thoughts keep drifting back to her flatmate’s mention earlier in the evening of sugar babies. She knows it’s likely the wine inspiring her actions, but she finds herself scrolling through the same apps they’d looked at previously.

Seeing one with particularly good reviews, she presses download before she’s had a chance to think twice about it and then goes through the process of setting up a profile, picking the best photo she has of herself on her camera roll.

Her heart races as she swipes with shaky fingers through photos of a myriad of men. She stops when she sees the look of one she likes.

Larys, 45. Tell me all your secrets.

His curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes immediately capture her attention, and she enjoys the flirtatious nature of his tagline. She swipes right and is stunned when she gets an “It’s a match!” notification. Wow, that was fast.

Instantly a message pops up from him.

Hello beautiful. How are you this evening?

She smiles, this seems harmless enough.

I’m fine, thanks. Just watching TV. How are you?

Her eyes linger on the screen as she awaits his reply.

I’d be better if I could get a look at your pretty feet. How much?

Bile rises in her throat and she throws the phone away from her in disgust. The worst possible start she could have asked for. She silently curses Mysaria’s stupid idea and vows never to open the app again.

Three weeks later and she is thoroughly fed up. She’s tired of never going out or doing anything, sick of existing on instant noodles. When she receives another payslip and sees yet another loan repayment has eaten away at her earnings, she reaches breaking point. She considers looking for another job, but she currently doesn’t qualify for anything beyond an entry level position in her field, and the pay everywhere else is no better than what she’s already on.

Her thumb lingers over the app that she hasn’t touched for weeks, too scarred by having such an awful first encounter to bother with it again. However, she’s desperate and willing to try anything - not with Larys though. She’s quick to unmatch with him, eager to forget his disgusting request.

She swipes mindlessly for a few minutes, not finding anyone attractive, until she happens across a photo that stops her in her tracks.

The man in question has sharp features - an aquiline nose, an impossibly chiseled jawline and sculpted cheekbones. His long white blonde hair frames his face elegantly, his only imperfection is the scar that runs across his left eye, a slightly duller blue than the right. She wonders if he’s still able to see out of it.

Aemond, 35.

No tagline, no other photos, save the one of him staring directly into the camera. He seems intense and mysterious. She swipes right, unable to fight the disappointment she feels when it’s not an instant match.

She closes the app, her desire to look at anyone else has been thwarted by how ridiculously good looking he is.

She has nearly forgotten about him when her phone buzzes the next day. He’s matched with her. She unlocks her phone, her palms sweaty with nerves, and looks at his message.

Hello.

Simple, to the point, possibly the words of a serial killer? She pushes the thought away and types out a response.

Hi. How are you?

She almost gives up and puts her phone away in the time it takes for him to reply, but eventually he does.

I don’t do small talk. Tell me about yourself.

Her eyes widen as she reads the message. He’s either incredibly rude or just not used to interacting with other people. She decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. She tells him about her history degree, about her museum job, about her living situation and her aspirations to one day become a curator of historical artifacts. He is unsurprisingly evasive when she attempts to ask about him.

So, what brings you to the app?

She decides there’s no point in hiding the fact that she’s strapped for cash, she wouldn’t be using an app that matches sugar babies with sugar daddies if that weren’t the case. She explains that her student loan repayments are crippling her, half expecting not to hear from him again. His next message is much quicker to arrive.

How much? And are you free Saturday night?

Dread gnaws at her stomach. Oh god, what does he expect of her? Hesitantly, she types out the remaining balance she has on her student loan and asks what he has in mind for Saturday. Again, he replies straight away.

Give me your bank details. I need a date for my nephew’s engagement party.

Her eyes widen. This cannot be real, and yet it’s happening. Dazed by his forwardness she sends across her account number and sort code, and tells him she’s free on Saturday.

Her mouth runs dry when after a few minutes her banking app pings with a notification of a deposit. The full amount she owes on her student loan has been transferred to her under the name ‘A. Targaryen.”

Aemond has transferred her thousands of pounds as if it were nothing more than pocket change, and all under the loose agreement that she’ll attend a party with him. This man has to be obscenely wealthy, or insane, perhaps both.

Her phone vibrates again. Another message from him.

Transferred. Give me your number, I hate the messaging interface on this app.

With clammy hands and a pounding heart she types out an entirely too long, rambled message of thanks, along with her number.

She wonders if she’s blown it when she doesn’t hear from him again, yet the money still sits in her bank account, feeling as though it’s burning a hole in it. She hasn’t exactly played it cool, most sugar babies probably accept money with cool sophistication, not simpering words of gratitude.

She feels like she’s forgotten how to breathe when he texts her on Friday.

Tell me your address and dress size.

Once more, she’s taken aback by how blunt he is, yet she complies and provides both.

When she arrives home from work later that evening, there is a package waiting for her. She opens it to reveal a black silk gown. The cut of the fabric is beautiful. Her jaw drops when she sees the Chanel label. This likely cost more than the entirety of the clothing she owns put together.

There’s a note that simply reads: Wear this tomorrow - A.

She smiles at the neatness of his handwriting. Aemond is a strange man, and yet she can’t help the intrigue she feels towards him. This is his second act of generosity towards her in the space of a week and they’ve yet to even meet.

She spends all of Saturday ensuring she is waxed, exfoliated and moisturised all over, before carefully styling her hair and applying make-up that she feels will do the eye-wateringly expensive dress she’s been given to wear justice.

She is jittery with nerves when a sleek, black sports car pulls up outside the block of flats. She can just tell it’s Aemond, nothing that costs that much has any business being on this side of town otherwise.

She hurries downstairs to meet him, eager to avoid the embarrassment of him seeing the mess that is the inside of the pokey, little flat she shares with Mysaria.

He steps out of the car and she inhales sharply at the sight of him. He is tall, at least six foot easily, despite her wearing heels he still towers over her. A well tailored, black suit clings to his long, lithe form and his white hair is pulled back neatly into a bun that sits at the nape of his neck.

“You must be Aemond.” She says, praying her make-up is enough to hide the evidence of how hot her face currently feels.

“Mmm. Yes, I must. You look good.” His right eye rakes appreciatively over her form, and when his left doesn’t follow the motion, she realises it’s a prosthetic. “Shall we go?”

He gestures towards the car, walking around to the passenger’s side to open the door for her.

He fills her in on what’s expected of her as he drives. His nephew, Jace, has gotten engaged to his longtime girlfriend, Baela. He is sick of fending off questions around why he’s not with anyone yet, especially from that side of the family. He expects her to stick by his side for the evening and he’ll deal with any awkward questions that may arise.

They arrive and Aemond is ever the gentleman, quickly stepping out of the car to open the door for her and offer her a hand out.

She shivers at the feel of his hand against hers and is stunned further still when he interlocks their fingers, keeping a firm hold of her hand as they enter the house.

“Just play along.” He whispers.

She is immediately struck by the opulence of it all as they walk through the foyer. This is a family that comes from old money. It was clear from the antique furnishings and vaulted ceilings that the Targaryens had always had money and always would.

She balks a little, unsure of if she will fit in, suddenly self conscious. Aemond seems to pick up on this.

“Relax.” He whispers to her. “Everyone here looks like shit compared to you.”

His words, combined with the tickle of his breath against the shell of her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

True to his word, he doesn’t let her stray from his side the entire evening. The tension between family members is unmistakable. The sneers with which a trio of dark haired young men regard Aemond is incredibly off putting.

She is informed by Aemond that the eldest of them is Jace, whose engagement they are here to celebrate. She meets Aemond’s mother, the doe eyed, auburn haired woman is pretty and seems shocked but delighted at the sight of her son with an actual date on his arm.

The lies that flow from his mouth are effortless. He had met her at the museum she works at when he’d come in to browse an exhibition. They’d hit it off instantly and been inseparable ever since.

Every touch of his hand at the small of her back feels like a brand and as the night goes on, and the champagne continues to flow freely, she finds herself eagerly playing up to the part of dutiful girlfriend. She leans into every touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the gentle press of his lips to her hairline. He is respectful, too respectful, never getting handsy or going for a full on the lips kiss.

When the evening draws to a close and he escorts her back to the passenger side of his car, she feels bereft at the loss of his touch as he moves around to the driver’s seat.

“You did well this evening.” He tells her as she starts the engine. “We put on quite the show.”

Remembering that none of this was real, that she’d been paid to be here startles her out of her tipsy fantasy that this is an actual relationship and her mouth presses into a tight line as she nods.

They drive in silence for a while before Aemond speaks again.

“If you’re up for it, my mother is having a birthday meal this Wednesday. She mentioned tonight she’d love for you to come. Are you available? I’ll pay you, obviously.”

So much for this not feeling like prostitution. She’s already paid off her student loan, she could just say no, but then she wouldn’t get to see him again.

“Y-yeah, sounds good.” She says meekly.

They pull up outside the block of flats and, right on cue, Aemond is striding around the car to get her door. She wobbles on her heels as she climbs out, the effects of the evening’s alcohol getting the better of her, and falls against his chest.

His large hands move to steady her by the shoulders and as she looks up into his face she is struck by how gorgeous he really is.

Her eyes slowly close, as she leans in, her lips pressing towards his.

His grip on her shoulders tightens, pushing her back ever-so gently. “You don’t need to do that.”

Her eyes snap back open, shame coursing through her like liquid fire. “Oh…”

“I’ll text you the details about Wednesday. Thanks again for tonight.”

He gets back into the car, driving away as she stands on the kerbside, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

Chapter two || Series masterlist

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year ago

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Smutober Day 21~ Prompt ~ Bang Chan [M]

WORD COUNT: 0.5k

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, minors DNI,prompt “I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” fucking against hotel window, unprotected sex

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - Smutober 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

"Chan, please." You whisper desperately as he slowly takes off your dress, throwing it across the room as he smirks at you. The two of you were on a small break away from everything and he'd been dying to get his hands on you all night.

The dress you'd worn to dinner had driven him nuts and he'd been left hard throughout all three courses. So he was going to fuck you the way he wanted to. He'd been thinking about it ever since he realised your hotel room had floor-to-ceiling windows, it was a fantasy the two of you had been talking about for a while and you were more than willing to make it happen.

“I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” As soon as the words left his mouth your whole body tingled and you felt yourself get wetter at the thought,

"Do you like that? The thought that someone could see?" He pushed you up against the glass and you let out a small hiss as the cold glass came into contact with your nipples. You looked down onto the streets and it was packed full of people, if someone were to look up they'd see you almost instantly.

"It looks so pretty tonight," Chan fushed as he pushed into you, holding your hips tightly as you cried out his name.

"F-Fuck just like that," You moan out as your hands press against the glass. Right now you didn't care if anyone saw you, all you cared about was Chan. Chan grunts as he pulls out of you only to slam back in making your chest hit the glass once again and he smirks from behind you.

"You feel so good around my cock," He moans as he moves at a deep and steady pace, making your head roll forward.

"Your dick feels so good." You giggled as he continued to pump into you.

"What if someone watching you?" He continued to thrust, smirking when he felt you clench around him.

"You like that?" He questioned as you moaned at him, loving the idea of someone watching Chan claim you as his own,

"My dirty little girl," He grunts slapping his hand against your ass and getting rougher with his thrusts. One hand reached down between you and rubbed your swollen bud, your eyes flew open as you cried out loudly.

The way he hit right into your g-spot with each thrust as his fingers worked on your clit, you could feel yourself getting closer each time,.

"YES! F-Fuck!" Your hands slammed against the glass,

"You want someone to see us cum?" He hummed as he got rougher with you, chuckling as you nodded too far gone to form coherent words anymore.

"Cum for me," He demanded as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles,

"Show everyone how hot you are when you cum for me." You moaned out his name, your knees buckling as you came around him. Your whole body shook but Chan held you upright, holding you tightly as your body shook against him. Chan pushed himself deep into you, cumming with a grunt while you whimpered his name out.

"Love you." You mumbled as he let out a low chuckle, kissing the back of your neck as he whispered how much he loved you too.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog@sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @minhosify @choisoorin @straykids5star @heyjiminnie@beccaskz @scarletemeterio @btsiguess-kpop @halesandy

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines #chan smut

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jalaguy · 1 month ago

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"Contradiction" - a short Transformers comic

Inspired by @thewadapan's call to action in his concluding essay for the @transformers-mosaic archival project, here's an original Mosaic-style strip! Hope you enjoy, and check after the break for commentary!

The secret origin of this comic is that on the last day of TFNation 2024, my pal and longtime TFN roomie Wadapan dropped a concluding essay for his project archiving the entirety of the Transformers: Mosaic short-form fan-comic project. Sunday night goes pretty late at TFN, and gone midnight, many rum'n'cokes deep, I wound up reading Wads' words on my phone in bed while he was brushing his teeth a few metres away.

At the end of the article, he called upon the reader to create their own one-page comic, and inspiration genuinely wound up striking me there in bed! I successfully remembered the idea in the morning, wrote a script on my notes app on the train home, and then scrawled a tiny thumbnail layout for the comic on a post-it when I got home. I then... let five months get away from me. But now I've deployed my (foolish) vector illustration platform of choice, Microsoft PowerPoint, and made the damn thing!

Some director's commentary:

So obviously the big influences here are Budiansky’s take on Headmastering, The Rebirth’s partnering of Arcee and Daniel, and IDW1 Arcee’s story (and swords). I figure it takes place in a unique continuity amalgamating elements of all three. The Budiansky Headmaster material is all about “wouldn’t it be fucked up if a human had to take on the role of a robot and fight in the robot war?”, really focusing on the humans literally having to be their partners. Since Marvel is largely Just Blokes though, that never extends to anyone having to embody a robot with a different gender presentation, while the cartoon has Arcee and Daniel partnered, but doesn’t really touch on the psychology of Headmastering at all. So take “what if Arcee and Daniel partnered under Marvel rules?”, add Arcee’s transness from modern fiction, and your get Danielle realising something about herself!

The phrasing “from the diary of” is, I think, probably inspired by the “From the Adventures of Luke Skywalker” tagline used on the earliest Star Wars novels – I had a beat-up old copy of the SW77 novelisation from a car-boot sale as a kid that I loved.

The shapes in the first three panels are largely drawn as polygons, while Danielle is drawn mostly using smooth curves!

Here’s the incredibly rough post-it note thumbnail I drew last year:

#transformers #arcee #daniel witwicky #transformers mosaic #maccadam

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dashka12 · 6 months ago

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An Iron Blood Tale: Iron and Gold

An Iron Blood Tale: Iron and Gold by @experi-sketches

My second bind for (Fan) Fic Writer Appreciation Day.

This fic is ridiculously good and my favorite story that i found last year.

The whole inspiration for this book was inspired by one particular scene from the fic.

For the custom endpapers, i foiled on the tagline(theme?) of the fic, onto some art that matched the overall design elements.

I had a lot of fun working on the typeset for this - though it took me way to long to sit down and complete. I had a pretty clear vision for it, until i completely did a 180 and changed my mind lol. Which I'm glad i did as this typeset came out so well.

The story title pages and map - I LOVE when books have maps in the beginning so i was super excited to format the map.

Each chapter had a title, but I decided to keep the chapter images the same and to go with the cover design.

Threads, connectivity, and intertwining play a big role in this fic and I tried to incorporate the idea as much as possible.

I'm very happy with how this book turned out, especially the htv layering. Quite surprised on how smoothly it went on the first time tbh.

This bind was done as part of @renegadeguild Renegade Loves Fic(Writers), as a way to show appreciation to all the fic writers out there that share your amazing stories with us, by sending out a copy to them.

Thank you @experi-sketches for this lovely fic <3

HAPPY (FAN) FIC WRITERS APPRECIATION DAY

#renegadelovesfic #renegadelovesfic24 #fanfiction writers appreciation day #FFWAD #bookbinding #ficbinding #fanbinding #mybinds #book art

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stormyjisung · 1 year ago

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"So when did you know it was love?"

Members. Skz hyung line (+hyunjin)

Synopsis. Asking them about the time when they'd fallen for you entirely

A/n. I woke up missing ji and decided to write something for skiz, it's been a long time since I've written for them anyway. I was watching a movie yesterday (more like analysing the poster) and the tagline said, 'so when do you know it's love?' And my writer brain went wee woo 🚨.

Bang chan

"so when did you know it was love?"

The question caught chan off guard, eyes shifting from his phone to your face, eyebrows quirked up in amusement, "where's this coming from?"

Rolling onto your stomach you groaned, "I don't know, chan, it just randomly popped up"

A bubble of laughter left his lips, "well to answer your question, I think it was our last semester at uni? I don't really remember the setting love, but I do remember that I was having a bad day. That paired with a raging downpour pushed me over the edge and I called you, crying, definitely not one of my best moments" chan paused to shake his head, "you helped calm me down and said, 'I'll be right there' and before I could ask what you meant you hung up"

"And before I knew it, you turned up at the library soaked to the bone. You handed me my umbrella and gave me the biggest, warmest hug someone had ever given me, despite the fact that you were freezing,

We'd already been dating for a few months, and you'd stolen my heart countless amount of times but it was at that moment I knew you'd stolen my heart from me forever"

Your cheeks felt hot, chan had always been a man of many words but to hear him voice out the moment he fell in love with you word by word felt nothing short of ethereal.

"But I do wonder, why did you turn up looking like a wet dog when you had an umbrella with you?"

Shrieks of embarrassment and laughter filled the atmosphere, love seeping into your bones even deeper.

Minho

"when did you know it was love?"

You saw minho's hand pause midway while petting dori, "is this one of those tiktok thingies where go around asking your partner if they'd love you if you were a worm?"

"What- no! I was genuinely curious" you whined as minho let dori down, placing a finger on his chin he pondered.

"Honestly?"

"Yeah!" You leaned forward excitedly.

"It was that time when you messed up a party's dress code and showed up wearing a chicken onesie."

"Fuck off" you replied, kicking a pillow at his face as he cackled, "No but how does one mess up that bad?"

Faux disappointment seeped into your features causing minho to break, "okay fine. But you dare not make fun of me or I'll set birds loose on you"

"You wouldn't dare" you gasped, "try me" Came his reply.

"It was late September, when we'd just been dating for a few months and when my self confidence was at an all time low. I remember you'd been begging me to show you one of my choreos until I finally agreed."

"Oh! I do remember it, and when the day arrived you made every excuse under the sun to not show me the choreography!"

"Yeah, because I've always been a little bit of a workaholic and a perfectionist and all the girls I've dated before would ask me to stop working or 'take a break',

nothing wrong with their concern but it just got tiring since I geninunely loved dancing, but then that day when I showed you my choreography, you sat there starry eyed; watching my moves like a hawk and your mouth left partially open as if me dancing was the single most enchanting thing you'd ever seen."

"It was!" you replied in a heartbeat, not missing the way his ears turned red instantaneously, "-anyway, then I told you I wanted to work some more on the choreography before I could come home and you said 'well, let's work together!' And started giving me all these ideas even when you had two left feet yourself"

You would've retorted with a 'hey!' Had it not been the soft gaze in his eyes. You knew minho loved you, it showed in the way he'd tone down his teasing once in a while and remind you that he still loved you.

But after this, you doubt any insecurity would ever cross your mind.

Changbin

"when did you know it was love, bin?"

Changbin almost dropped the plate he was holding, caught utterly off guard by a question he most certainly had the answer to yet didn't trust his words enough, "what do you mean, babe?"

"When did you realize that you were in love with me?"

"I fall for you every day." He deadpanned

"Yeah- but, like, when was the first time?" you asked flustered by his prompt reply.

"You're cute" He giggled, ruffling your hair as his eyes shone with admiration, "I think it was when we had our first serious disagreement? The first time the rose colored glasses shattered and we could see ourselves for who we truly were"

"You said something along the lines of, 'I'd understand if you left right now' and it was the first time in my twenty one years of life that I'd experienced true heartbreak. And it was also the moment when I realized no matter how many fights we had or will inevitably have in the future, I'd never want to walk out on you or us"

He ended his little monologue by peppering sweet butterfly kisses on your forehead, "I'll always love you" He whispered between the kisses.

The orange hues of the setting sun illuminated the two soul mates in that room who failed to realize that their souls were always meant to love each other, maybe the setting sun knew their story for it smiled as it set across the horizon.

Hyunjin

"when did you know it was love?" You asked hyunjin as he raked his fingers through your hair gently, a low hum escaping him

"When did I know I'd fallen for you entirely?" He confirmed to which you gently nodded your head, the serene atmosphere felt unreal with you laying on his chest and him alternating between patting your head and softly brushing your hair

"That's a question that doesn't really have a definite answer, love"

You allowed a beat of silence to pass by before you spoke up, "what do you mean?"

"Falling in love with you wasn't a spur of the moment... it was rather an entire journey.

From the moment we met to right now, it's been one hell of a ride. We've seen seasons, weather and people change. We've seen each other change for the better, I've see you through your good, your bad and your ugly" He paused to let his eyes roam all over your face as if memorizing every miniscule detail

"But despite all of that, I wanted you. I wanted you every waking moment of my life, I wanted you on the days you were too sad to even get up, I wanted you on the days you were cranky and moody, I wanted you on the days you'd blow up on me, I wanted you, I want you.

And when you want someone like that, above their flaws, imperfections and blemishes I think it's fair enough to declare it as love"

Hyunjin was always a romantic, never failing to make you feel loved and cherished and even after years of dating him, he still managed to take your breath away. He talked about loving you as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, as if loving you was easy.

And that terrified you because hyunjin was just as easy to fall for, if not more.

Reblog to show your appreciation !

I love how I post once a week but am chronically online, tee hee.

#🌙. nyx !#skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz changbin #skz bang chan #skz minho #skz hyunjin #skiz.archives.#stray kids imagines

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melancholicstation · 2 months ago

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I DON'T NEED YOU BUT I MISS YOU, COME HERE! - a john f. kennedy jr. one-shot

day 2 of melancholicstation! summary: After exchanging gifts with your boyfriend you both reach a haunting revelation. After a serious of miscommunications between the two of you in which the both of you thought the other had bought the round of gifts this year, you and John are forced to venture into the city on christmas eve in the search of a christmas present for your boyfriends mother. What could be more hellish than that? though your handsome boyfriend makes it more than tolerable...

taglist: @carly-rae-jean @h-l-vlovesvintage @inocennture @monturi @hisamericanmuse @passhun4w-blog @vile-harlot @bluelancergirl @jackiesgirl @fortheloveofjos @itgirlvirgo @starsprangledgirl @malkavared @remotewatch @salvatoresablondie @kimcrystal123 @vampyiricris @scaredlamb @dulcegal @strryhaze

warnings: nothing, just good all clean christmas eve fun...

words: 1,210

Light pitter-pattering of rain falls softly against wrought iron fire escape, a soft aroma of powder and flushed-skin spices laid a slight film upon the furnishings of your New York apartment which was a mix of strewn silk stockings, rugs and tapestries, and because it was Christmas: two delicately placed patchwork stockings made from dead stock fabric across an elegant carved walnut chimneypiece and an antique Christmas collage you'd scored in an auction down in the Cape.

But none of it, in all its curated charm, could compare to the beautiful boy who laid his head in the space of your lap. John's eyes closed resembled those in renaissance paintings when scrutinised too close, and was accompanied by a set of an annoyingly long lashes mirroring the color of ink that's been spilt from a fountain pen.

In all his dreary-faced glory: all tuckered out after a tranquil evening of dining on a mismatched array of foods completely incongruent with the present season such as 2 packs of lemon club sodas, a squash & burrata pizza, and a half picked at banana coconut muffin to share: foods that may or may not have been stolen from your head chef's storage pantry. In your defence the food would've had to go in the trash anyway... If you really thought about it you did them a favour in taking the food!

In service of both you and John's shared distain for the Christmas craze and chaoticness you'd both decided to give each other your presents on Christmas Eve instead of on the big day.

The very presents in question were as follows: John got you a beautiful perfume along with a first edition, signed 'Journals of Anaïs Nin hardcover.

In your case, you got John a limited edition cologne with the tagline "Wear En Plein Air if you want to smell like an unassuming art critic on his way to an orgy." Classy. To go along with the scent you got him this years Art Press magazine issue, lately he'd been talking a lot about possibly creating a magazine: you thought it was a terrific idea but he wasn't so sure it would land.

The gift-giving hour had long passed and before you knew it the both of you had ended up splayed out on top of each other on your bed: an early twentieth century opium bed with a pierced lattice panels. A statement piece in your bedroom that you were very proud of winning in an especially hard auction at Christie's Rockefeller plaza location.

The snacking continued from the floor of the kitchen to the bed, where John began shovelling crumbs of a coconut muffin with reckless abandon: defiling your freshly put-on winter goose-down duvet.

"C'mon John you know I just got this cleaned. You watched me buy it like last week!" you say jokingly, yet your movements betray otherwise: frantically moving the palm of your hands over the duvet trying to brush away the crumbs onto the hardwood floors—an almost unbelievable score for an apartment in the city.

"Baby you're way too tense, let the holiday cheer wash over you!" he says sarcastically with that kind of eat-shit grin he nearly always dons.

"Well i've decided to reject that holiday cheer, I'm too stressed out having to figure out your families fucked up dynamics on top of trying not to piss of your sister—making her hate me more than she already does"

Wiping away the coconut flakes from your chin with his fingers, to which he proceeds to place those same fingers in his mouth, making an almost comically suggestive motion: to which you giggle alongside him.

It's interesting how you can almost see the cogs turn in his mind—it's funny how the longer you get to know him you can almost predicate the exact moment a thought enters his head "Speaking of, I forgot to ask you what you got for my mother for when we go down to the cape tomorrow?"

"Wait I thought you were handling the presents for your family this year. I-I mean she is your mom after all John"

It's at this moment that you immediately understand that he did not have the Christmas presents handled in the slightest.

Oh, fuck.

So that is what transpired to have the two of you traipsing around New York City at a blistering 7 pm on Christmas Eve like total and utter idiots.

After the utter shock of not having organised a Christmas present the night before Christmas set in you both scrambled into action changing out of clothes you called "house clothes" into respectable "outdoor clothes".

You chose a practical uniform for the blistering cold raging outside: a slim-fit pair of indigo blue jeans, a silk porcelain turtleneck for layering purposes, and a camel cashmere belted overcoat.

The reason why you'd regard John as a man touched by a certain oddness, said with love of course, is no better exemplified than his chosen outfit for the blistering cold: a patterned cashmere and silk crewneck paired with some old gym shorts and a pair of uggs atop long cotton socks reaching his mid calf. Now, you wouldn't position yourself as a fashion icon but you won't pretend you didn't second guess his choice of fashion, though you did relent when you saw the bashful smile fixing its attention upon your being.

Initially you were mad at one another for dropping the ball on finding gifts but fighting never lasted all that long with you two now did it?

Now, with that being said: Bergdorf's at 7:31 pm on Christmas Eve was certainly the undiscovered 8th circle of hell that Dante's Inferno conveniently left out. You and John had been circling the aisles for about thirty minutes and still: Nothing. As you traipsed the aisles for what seemed to be no short of a few miles all you found were picked over shelves with cheesy Christmas sweaters made out of polyester and acrylic, and small cheese platters in tiny wicker trays.

And if you gathered anything from the few times you've met your boyfriend's mother: Jacqueline Kennedy, is that she has immaculate taste. And known for having a severe emotional intolerance for synthetic fibres and cheap butter.

So safe to say both products left would absolutely not suffice or bode well with her.

By 7:51 pm you're both defeated but as if an angel sent from the gods themselves decided to take pity on you John spots and item: beckoning you over holding his hand out. The item comes into your view: a 18" silver amphora vase detailed with dragon head handles—a little ornate for your taste but from the look on John's face the vase is a winner.

Delighted to be able to get out of this place you both move to the register, slightly surprised that there's not an outrageously long line before you. You're both quiet for a few minutes while waiting, you're broken out of that silence when you feel John's hand pick up yours and bring it to his lips: kissing each of your fingers wrapped in his hand individually.

Okay, maybe Bergdorf's at 7pm wasn't exactly as bad as Dante's inferno but safe to say you will be getting everyone gifts in November next year to avoid this very situation in the future.

i feel like this is my worst one-shot to date (and it hasn't been edited) but I hope u enjoy regardless p.s all the furniture written about was just an excuse to basically show you my christie's wish list items bisous!!!!!!

#12 days of melancholicstation #jfk jr x you #jfk jr x reader #jfk jr x orignal female characters #jfk jr fanfic #jfk jr fanfiction #kennedy fanfiction #kennedy fanfic #political rpf #rpf political #kennedy rpf #rpf fanfiction #rpf #SoundCloud

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accio-victuuri · 9 months ago

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CHILDREN’S DAY CANDIES. 🍭🍬

let’s call this part one of today’s cpns cause i’m waiting for xzs side to share stuff and knowing that LOZ just wrapped, we might get something on that too. but i can’t wait to scream about these! good turtles really got the sweets for today!

let the two cute babies invite you in… ⬇️⬇️⬇️

to those who have no idea what this holiday is about, then this might help you.

starting off the day with yibo’s audi ad. he really remains unbothered despite all the chaos, it’s business as usual on his side. and that is the reality of his life: it goes on. no matter what happens or who try to bring him down. he will continue to shine ✨ the story for the ad was so interesting, it was so nice to see him “cooking” and it’s giving me flashbacks to his other efforts. this is more of me as a cpf thinking about how yibo could also be making an effort on his own to cook, even if it’s not elaborate dishes. the fandom loves to paint xz as the “wife” who does the cooking but maybe yibo does too? and that grocery scene? AAHHHHHHH! domestic yizhan is my weakness. so while they walk into a store all dressed up like that, the thought makes me somft. considering there is a possibility too that they will be in the same city soon 🙏🏼

then xzs reposted menghai’s anniversary post which some are saying is unusual for them but who knows. WHAT GETS ME THO IS THE CAPTION. the fuck.

WHO FAMOUSLY SAID THIS? to the point that it became a tagline for the fandom. Yibo. Yibo during all the drama that happened during Hidden Blade’s showing:

WYB: like what the director & that audience said, a movie can create a lot of thoughts but u still need to continue with ur life. for Wuming, i hope we can exchange sincerity with sincerity. we made this movie with our heart, so we sincerely hope that people will like the movie.

I’m not sure if this is some usual line or saying in 🇨🇳 with some literary relevance but the fact that it is associated with WYB gets me! XZS is known to do really good captions but using this? after all that happened with magnolia noms? i think it is not a coincidence. this feels like an indirect message. i am positive that they really intend to wish menghai a happy anniversary but the hidden meaning is not lost on me.

not only that…. they seem to match yibo-official’s caption too.

The wind blowing in the wilderness // The wind galloping in the wilderness 🍃

the wind. in the mainland, WOF title is called Wind Chaser. i can understand it from YBO’s perspective and why that was included. but XZS? another coincidence????

and the caption for YBO had a paper plane which is a symbol that we associate with them 🫶🏼 ( i have a post for this but i cannot find it lol. if someone here does, please comment. )

and as for the drawing, it’s very common for cpf to think that xz made it. not saying that ybo has no team of his own that can do it for him, but more of this is xz’s love language. making art for the person he adores. the fact that the t-shirt chibi yibo was wearing is inspired by that video of him dancing in 2011 was a nice touch.

the cartoon was supposed to be based on the photo which was from the olympics performance rehearsal — but to make it fit the Children’s Day theme, that was added. it is made by someone who loves him!

not to mention some other details that stood out to us. i bet you can analyze each in every composition of it and make a cpf analysis but these are the interesting bits:

but i’m more partial to that pig nose on the shoes! hahahahaha! when fans tease yibo, he becomes a pig instead of a lion/panther and this cheeky addition i feel like can only be added by someone close to him. a person who can get away with it 😂😂😂

the photo used had him with the green/pink shoes! plus the video shared, THAT HAT! ( i linked part 3 of my cpn post in but parts 1&2 are there for those who are not familiar or want a refresher) ! he is showing off again! can’t blame him tho.

sources: one / two / three / four

-END.

#the yeekies is so outrageous when he was young my god please let me nomnomnom ☺️☺️☺️☺️#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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emmkayyy03 · 2 months ago

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Venus in the 12th House: Love in the Shadows, Art from the Heart 💔🎨

Darling, if Venus in the 12th house had a tagline, it’d be: “I love like a secret, I dream like a poet, and I heal like a saint—but at what cost?” 🌙💋

These are the people who romanticize everything. The rain? A metaphor for their tears. 🌧️ The moon? Their confidante. 🌕 And love? Oh, love is a mystery, a riddle they’re forever trying to solve. But don’t be fooled—this placement isn’t just about unrequited crushes and longing gazes. No, Venus in the 12th is where magic happens. ✨

💌 The Lover of Shadows If you’ve got Venus here, you’ve probably fallen for someone you couldn’t have at least once (or 17 times—no judgment). It’s giving forbidden romance, midnight rendezvous, or falling for the idea of someone more than the reality. 💭 You crave connections so deep they feel cosmic, but sometimes you end up loving in secret or losing yourself in the fantasy.

And the drama? Oh, the drama! You’re the type to write love letters you never send, cry to a Lana Del Rey song, and feel every emotion like it’s a hurricane in your soul. 🌊 But babe, that’s your power. You feel. And that makes you an artist, even if you don’t realize it yet.

🎭 The Artist’s Soul Let’s be real: Venus in the 12th is where all the best art comes from. The heartbreak? Iconic. The longing? Immortalized in poetry, paintings, or playlists no one is allowed to see. 🎶🎨 You turn pain into beauty, and everyone around you feels it. People might not understand you, but they feel you.

⚡ The Shadow Side But here’s the tea, darling ☕: this placement can get messy. You might fall for emotionally unavailable types because deep down, you’re scared of being truly seen. Or maybe you romanticize the idea of someone so much that the reality feels like a letdown. Don’t settle for love that only exists in your daydreams—your heart deserves to be cherished IRL, too.

💎 A Glamorous Reminder Venus in the 12th isn’t a curse; it’s a superpower. You have the ability to see love in its purest, most transcendent form. But remember this: you don’t have to love in the shadows forever. You’re allowed to want a love that’s as real and radiant as you are.

You’re a dreamer, an artist, and a healer all rolled into one. And when you let your light shine, even from behind the veil, the world becomes a little more magical. 🕊️✨

So, here’s to you, the dreamer of dreams and the keeper of secrets. May your love be as vast as the ocean and as bright as the stars. 🌌💖

#astrology #vedicastrology #tropical astrology #venus #darakaraka #venus darakaraka #astroblog

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sevensoulmates · 10 months ago

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7x05 Buddie Meta "You Don't Know Me" Part 1 (of 4)

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Welp. I'm back at it again with the four-part metas. I was hoping this one wouldn't take too long but alas there was even more to unpack in this episode than last episode.

Fair warning my meta does contain speculation, and is very much my opinion/interpretation. I will be diving into my personal opinions about Eddie's sexuality and marriage to Shannon here. My headcanon is that Eddie is a repressed gay man, not bisexual, and I believe that while he did love Shannon, he was not in love with her and their marriage was something they were pressured into and was not healthy for either of them. I do my best to look at these topics in a nuanced light, but if you are sensitive to reading opinions that differ from yours I'm warning you of mine now. Let's begin!

Taylor Wong is nothing if not an amazing comedy writer. This call didn't end up being as psychological as I may have hoped but it still acts as an interesting parallel and metaphor. "I'm the Boss of Me!" is the tagline for a self-control conference and Buck and Eddie being the ones hurt here. How they got hurt is interesting too and reflects their exact conflicts in this episode.

Buck is being choked, stopping his ability to breathe but also his ability to talk. In the context of this episode, his inability to bring himself to tell Eddie the truth weighs on him--chokes him with guilt-- until he finally does come clean near the end, and only then is he able to exhale again. For Eddie, his being grabbed by the crotch is funny, but it's also an indicator of his storyline in this episode too. He deals with sexual dysfunction because learning about Marisol being a nun makes him feel so deeply uncomfortable that the idea of being with her sexually disgusts him and stops him from having a functioning sex life. For both of them, the pain and discomfort still linger even after the claw arm guy lets him go, but my hope is that this is indicative that one day both of them will get clarity and be set free too.

"Keeping our options open" is a call back to the last episode where Buck says he's "keeping his options fluid". Whereas the last episode it seemed to be more about sexuality, options open with men and women, this time it seems to be about something else. Maybe it's an indicator of Buck keeping his options open with different people? Which is interesting considering who pops up a second later.

This is part of why I think it's a good idea they're having Buck get used to queerness with another man other than Eddie. I feel like if Buck had discovered his queerness with Eddie, these kinds of issues might've been blown out of proportion on both of their ends and probably caused much MUCH bigger problems. Allowing Buck the chance to work through this with someone safer was a good bet.

Additionally, I find it interesting here that both Buck and Eddie are dealing with external and internal conflicts that mirror each other in this episode. In this instance, it's the fear of being Perceived. For Eddie, being perceived by God. For Buck, being perceived by Heteronormative Society at large.

This would be an adjustment for anyone, so I don't necessarily think Buck is dealing with internalized homophobia that's too detrimental. I think it's more so he needs an adjustment period and needs to figure out why he's uncomfortable. Is it the idea of being perceived as queer by others? Is it the idea of being perceived as queer by Eddie? Is it the fact that you are on a date with a man? Or is it because you're not sure if you're on a date with the right man? More on this when we get to his scene with Maddie.

Now I had a strong feeling that Tommy was going to be someone who only figured out who he was later in life too. And it seems a lot of that was due to his past, possibly how he grew up, and being in the 118 under Gerard who was every "ist" in the book. It goes to show how far Tommy has come and also proves to be interesting if we keep thinking of Tommy as a parallel to Eddie. I also had a feeling that Tommy was going to lean slightly more toward the gay side (though he's purposefully unlabeled which is fair).

To me, the phrase "lying about who I was" seems to align more with someone who is into men and not into women, but that's just my interpretation. Especially because in the next moment, Buck says that he's not lying about how he is, which is more in line with the bisexual experience.

Because Buck isn't lying. He was always/still currently is attracted to women, and is only just now discovering a new aspect of himself with his attraction to men. Whereas Tommy seems to be implying that when he was with women he was lying to himself about his attraction to them. Sound like anyone else we know?

Additionally, we have another call back to 7x04 (plus a myriad of other episodes) where Buck "makes it about him" when Tommy was really just trying to tell Buck more about himself, not imply that Buck was also lying. I'm going to give Buck some grace here because this is all new for him, so I understand his hyper-sensitivity. But it is once again showing another instance of Buck failing to really connect with Tommy about something related just to Tommy. Last episode, every conversation they had always found its way back to Eddie or was about Buck's feelings regarding what was happening. This time, when Tommy tries to be vulnerable and connect with Buck, Buck makes it about him and it feels like a misconnection (like how I predicted with the missed hand grab in 7x03 with Tommy and Buck trying to connect, but something always not quite hitting the intended target).

If down the road we see Tommy's (abridged) story about "lying to himself" come to fruition in a similar light with Eddie's storyline I'm going to be delighted. Here Buck is out on a date with a man who the last episode spent the entire time telling us was extremely similar to Eddie, only to have Tommy align perfectly with a lot of our headcanons about Eddie's sexuality too. I think this is something to stick a pin in to come back to later for sure.

Oh, Buck. OH, baby bi Buck. My heart aches for you and my body cringes. He's obviously on edge, but Eddie showing up just makes it worse. Buck immediately tries to no homo not just himself, but Tommy as well, stating that they're going to go find some "hot chicks" to pick up. Eddie makes a face, obviously picking up on the weirdness of Buck's statement (because "picking up chicks" is wildly out of character for current Buck and has been for years) but he's too distracted with Marisol to dig any deeper into it. He believes it very easily instead of stopping to question why else these two men might be on what looks like an intimate date. Tommy looks hurt, and I feel bad for him, but this was obviously his breaking point, and I can understand why.

I want to briefly touch on Eddie and the way he was speaking about Marisol throughout the entire episode separately from the whole nun thing. I found this piece of dialogue so odd here, because in general this isn't really how Eddie talks, it doesn't feel natural for him, but at the same time, it also harkens back to some of his horrendous dialogue with Ana back in season 5. "This hot chick already found her firefighter" "Spank me with a ruler" "kinda naughty" "Grade me on a curve" "Maybe you need to keep me after class", etc.

I've always wondered why Eddie starts talking like this about or with his girlfriends. I was discussing it with my roommate and she said to her it sounded like an "8th grade boy sitting with his guy friends trying to talk up how he banged some chick when really it's just a ploy to make himself look good to the boys and like he's more sexually active than he actually is for social clout". And you know what? I think that's exactly what it is. Eddie speaking like this feels like overcompensation on so many levels (not to mention Marisol looks lowkey uncomfortable here, that smile is fake af). Trying to make himself seem way more into sex or kinky things (like roleplaying with a teacher or nun) than he actually is. The dialogue is cringey and Ryan overacts it because the audience isn't supposed to feel comfortable with it. It's not supposed to feel natural. It's not supposed to endear us to the couple, it's meant to feel out of place and wrong because Eddie being with Ana and Marisol was and is out of place and wrong. It feels like a performance to us because IT IS A PERFORMANCE.

This is only enhanced by the new jarring information that Eddie has apparently asked Marisol to move in with him (offscreen). Keep in mind that they've been together for (I'm assuming) less than six months, he obviously didn't discuss it with anyone since both Tommy, Buck, and Bobby later are surprised. Christopher is also noticeably absent from this episode which leads me to believe he likely didn't really discuss it with him beforehand. This choice feels simultaneously like an OOC choice AND so very in character.

It's OOC because Eddie has stated that he doesn't like performing, he doesn't want a "ready-made family" and one would think that he would sit and contemplate this seriously given that if something goes wrong, he's providing another example of a failed relationship to his son. Not to mention that living with your parent's girlfriend is a huge thing. I've been through that process before in my own life with my mom and it's really only something you do if you're really committing to a person for the long haul because that's the message that sends to your kids.

But at the same time, this is also so severely in character for Eddie. As is pointed out later, he got married to Shannon because he was guilted into it, he dated Ana because he was pressured into it, and then overcommitted to her far too fast. And now he's doing the same thing with Marisol. This is very much a PATTERN for Eddie. Maybe, as this episode suggests, it's a facet of Catholic guilt that pushes Eddie to move way too fast in his relationships. Or maybe, Eddie finds the idea of being settled with a woman comforting, and he'd be okay sacrificing his happiness and settling with any woman as long as he got to have that comforting facade. All of this points to very obvious compulsory heterosexuality for me. More on this later.

I'm going to talk more about the way the show is choosing to use physical objects, Marisol's things, as a metaphor for who Marisol is, and Eddie's willingness to receive/learn about them as a literary device later. For now, I wanna talk about the exchange of Eddie being the one to bring up "closet space", Tommy being the one to say "Aint't that the truth" and point it towards Buck, who hammers it home with his "bro" line. I find it interesting that they had Eddie say this line, when it very easily could've been Marisol (after all it is her armoire) with Tommy in the middle. Tommy (IMO) is in the center of these two men's queer realization arc. The more subtle one in the earliest stages (Eddie) and the more present one (Buck). The way all of them volleyed this dialogue felt like I was watching a choreographed play, and the lines landed perfectly.

This is also the third line in five episodes specifically poking at Eddie possibly being queer alongside Tommy and Buck. "I've never seen a man turn off a woman with such skill. it's a gift" "you both like to watch half-naked men pummel each other" and now this. "You can never have enough closet space" suggesting that not only was there Tommy in the closet in the past, Buck in the closet recently (and somewhat presently given that Buck just shoved himself and Tommy back into it), and Eddie right now still deep in that closet. Hopefully, there's enough space for all y'all!

I very much liked how this went down. Tommy has a right to break things off if the person he's with clearly exhibits weirdness around being out with you. I don't blame him for his choice here. I like that he's also not making it about the fact that's he inexperienced. Additionally, I think this is another instance of Tommy witnessing something weird between Buck and Eddie, and I'm not sure how much of that he's picking up on, or if he thinks it's generally about being perceived as queer, or just needing to slow things down and process before he actually starts a relationship with a man. All are valid, but I think it's just interesting that a lot of it had to do with Eddie yet again, and I wonder how much of that Tommy is aware of.

From the start of this conversation with Maddie, Buck makes it seem like the thing that's making him uncomfortable most is the fact that he lied to Eddie about the truth of his date with Tommy. Obviously, he's not going to immediately jump into telling Maddie the truth, and he's gotta start the conversation somewhere, but I do find it interesting that rather than seeking her advice on "how to get his date back" he instead is seeking advice on why he lied to Eddie and can't bring himself to tell him the truth.

This could be deflecting because he's not yet ready to tell Maddie. Or it could be the truth that all of this angst may stem from him still trying to get comfortable in his queerness. But the main issue that isn't sitting right with his soul is that he lied to Eddie, that he's hiding a fundamental piece of the truth of who he is from Eddie. Because to Buck it is unthinkable that Eddie doesn't always know the whole truth, all of who Buck is, at all times. At this point in their relationship, they're supposed to know everything about each other, and yet something about sharing this part of himself with Eddie in particular scares him. Could it possibly be that he's aware that sometimes "straight" men get weird around their queer male friends? Could it be that he thinks his relationship with Eddie would be negatively effected if he told Eddie this truth? I will touch more on this later. But for now, Buck makes it clear that his interest isn't wholly in getting Tommy back right now. It's making sure that all is right in his relationship with Eddie.

Once again, this choice by the writers to center Eddie in every step of the way of Buck's queer realization journey is telling. Especially given that he's able to tell Maddie without ~too~ much struggle.

I understand where Buck is coming from. It's again distancing himself from Tommy, trying to get her advice about Eddie. But also, it's an attempt by him to normalize him going on a date with a man, which should be normal, but it's not in Buck's personal historical normal.

Buck wants to believe that because he was an "ally" that that means he'd just be automatically okay with dating a man right away. But I think he's trying to push himself at a speed faster than he's comfortable with (which he again does at the end by inviting Tommy to Madney's wedding) and needs to realize that he can slow down, which is a parallel with Eddie the whole episode. Which is why I think Tommy was right to step back and give him some time. The other part that is interesting is that Buck once again appears confused about the truth of his feelings, similar to the last episode and I just find it interesting in this scene where Buck and Maddie are once again talking about Eddie at her house, it's once again ambiguous if the subject Buck's really hung up on is Tommy....or Eddie. Both are true at the same time.

Go to part 2!

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

#911 abc #buddie #911 meta #bucktommy #speculation #911 speculation #buddie speculation #buddie meta

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movingmusically · 4 months ago

Text

Caught Feeling - Chapter 4

Synopsis:

A quiet evening together strengthens the bond between y/n and Hank, but when their bowling date takes an unexpected turn and ends at the hospital, y/n realises their growing connection may be more unpredictable than she imagined.

Word Count: 5,434

Masterlist

After dinner, we were both too full to move, lounging on the couch with the remnants of takeout scattered on the coffee table. I reached for the remote, scrolling through the endless list of movie options while Hank stretched out beside me, his leg brushing lightly against mine as he settled in, looking completely at ease.

“You really want to watch that?” I teased, pausing on an old action flick that looked like it hadn’t aged well, judging by the grainy cover and outdated tagline.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Hank grinned. “You’d be surprised how much heart these movies have.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Right. ‘Heart’ hidden under explosions and cheesy one-liners?”

“Exactly,” he said, giving me a playful nudge with his knee. “The explosions are just a bonus.”

I laughed, sinking a little deeper into the cushions. “Fine, I’ll let you pick next time. But tonight, we’re watching something with an actual plot.”

As I scrolled through more titles, Hank leaned in slightly, his hand lightly grazing my knee. “Alright, I’ll bite. What kind of movies are you into? Aside from ‘actual plot,’ of course.”

I grinned, feeling comfortable enough to reveal just how varied my tastes were. “I love Horror, Thriller, Fantasy… but I’m a sucker for a good Comedy too. And every once in a while, I’ll go for a Romance or Drama.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re into Horror and Comedies? You’ve got range.”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, smirking. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you for a Horror fan.”

“Oh, I love them,” I said, grinning. “The scarier, the better. But Thrillers? That’s my sweet spot. I love the suspense, the tension—it’s addictive.”

“Interesting,” he said, clearly impressed. “I’m more of an Action and Comedy guy, but I don’t mind the occasional Romance. Gotta mix it up sometimes.”

“Sure, sure,” I teased. “I bet your idea of ‘mixing it up’ still involves a lot of car chases and shootouts.”

Hank laughed, nudging me gently. “Maybe. What about all-time favourites? If you had to pick your top three.”

“That’s tough,” I said, pausing for a moment. “But I’d say Jurassic Park, Jaws, and Lord of the Rings. Those are classics I could watch over and over.”

He nodded in approval. “Solid choices. I respect that. I’m more into Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, though.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “OK, important question for you.” I leaned closer, a playful challenge in my tone. “Would you say that Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

His grin turned mischievous. “No, it just happens to take place at Christmas.”

I gasped, pretending to be scandalised. “How dare you? Die Hard is definitely a Christmas movie!”

Hank looked amused. “Just because it’s set at Christmas doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.”

“Yes, it does!” I shot back. “Bruce Willis saves Christmas, Hank. It doesn’t get more Christmas than that.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

“I’ll convince you one day,” I said, grinning back.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he teased. I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips.

He leaned in a little closer, eyes still gleaming with amusement. “So, what else do you love that I should know about?”

“I’ve got a soft spot for war and gangster movies too,” I said, enjoying his reaction.

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That I didn’t see coming.”

I smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, Goodfellas is one of my favourites. I watched it with my Mum and Dad growing up.”

“Goodfellas?” he repeated, clearly impressed. “That’s a bold pick. You’ve got taste.”

“Bold, but true,” I said. “And my Dad? Total Arnold Schwarzenegger fan. We used to have movie marathons—Terminator, Predator… you name it.”

“You’re full of surprises,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I never would’ve guessed.”

I shrugged with a small smile. “I’ve got layers.”

He glanced at the remote, then back at me. “Well, since you’re already a fan of Die Hard, I think we’ve found our movie for tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Fine. But only because it’s my favourite Christmas movie.”

“Exactly,” Hank said with a wink as he hit play.

As the familiar opening sequence of Die Hard rolled across the screen, I sank back into the couch, resting my head on Hank’s shoulder. His arm slid comfortably around me, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as we settled in. It felt easy being close to him, like this was something we’d done a thousand times before, even though it was still new.

Halfway through the movie, between Bruce Willis’ quips and the explosions on-screen, Hank shifted slightly, his voice low as he spoke.

“You know, we should do something fun this weekend,” Hank said casually, his voice soft against the low hum of the TV. He was playing with a loose strand of my hair, and his relaxed tone made the idea sound spontaneous, like he’d just thought of it in the moment.

I tilted my head up to look at him, intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He shrugged, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe go see a movie? Or we could do something active… like bowling.”

I grinned at the suggestion, instantly imagining the disaster that would follow. “Bowling? I should warn you—I’m not just bad, I’m the worst. Ever.”

Hank’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Worst ever, huh? I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really. I’m talking gutter balls. Every. Single. Time.”

He raised an eyebrow, the challenge clearly sparking something in him. “Well, now I have to take you. I’ll teach you how it’s done.”

I let out a laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, I see. You want to show off?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You got me. But come on, it’ll be fun. Worst-case scenario, you’re terrible, and I get to give you a hard time about it. Best-case scenario, you impress me.”

“I won’t,” I said, grinning. “But I’ll take you up on the challenge anyway. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he said confidently. “Besides, how bad could you really be?”

I shot him a mock glare. “You’re underestimating how bad I am. Like, genuinely embarrassing bad.”

Hank laughed, his chest vibrating beneath my head. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

I rolled my eyes, settling back into his side. “Well, when you’re done laughing at me, I’ll just kick back and let you win.”

“You’re not off the hook that easily,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss against my temple. “I’ll get you a strike by the end of the night. Even if I have to guide your hand.”

I laughed at the thought. “If you can do that, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “You better start thinking of which fancy restaurant you’re taking me to.”

I relaxed against him, already picturing the disastrous but fun night out. Hank’s enthusiasm for the challenge was contagious, and I couldn’t help but be excited, even though I knew I’d probably end up embarrassing myself. It struck me how easy it felt to make plans with him, like we’d been doing this for longer than just a few days.

Just as I was about to suggest another potential plan for the weekend, Hank’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He reached for it, glancing at the screen. His relaxed expression shifted ever so slightly—something that made his brow furrow for a split second before he quickly masked it.

“Everything okay?” I asked, lifting my head to study his face, curious but not overly concerned.

He sighed lightly, locking the screen and setting the phone back down on the table. “Yeah, it’s just work. They need me to cover a shift tonight.”

I could hear the subtle shift in his tone, a mix of frustration and responsibility. He clearly wasn’t thrilled about the idea of leaving, but I knew from the way his brows furrowed that he felt like he had to go.

“You don’t have to go, do you?” I asked softly, not wanting to sound needy but also not exactly ready for him to leave.

Hank leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I don’t have to, but… they’re short tonight, and I know Yvonne’s been dealing with a lot of the busy shifts lately. I’d feel bad leaving her to handle it on her own.”

“Yvonne?” I asked.

He nodded, his expression still relaxed but distant. “Yeah, she works at the bar too. She’s been picking up a lot of shifts since one of the other guys quit. It’s been pretty hectic.”

I tried to keep my tone light, not wanting to pry too much. “Sounds like things are pretty crazy at work.”

“Yeah,” Hank said with a slight smile, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere now. “It’s been busy, but it’s manageable. I just didn’t expect to be called in tonight, especially since I was hoping to spend the night with you.”

There was a sincerity in his words that made my heart flutter, and I could tell he wasn’t just saying it to be polite. He genuinely wanted to stay, and for a moment, I considered telling him not to go. But I didn’t want to be the reason he felt guilty about leaving his coworkers hanging.

“Go,” I said, offering him a reassuring smile. “If they need you, you should go. We’ll have other nights.”

Hank met my gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like he was debating whether to argue. But then he smiled, soft and warm. “You sure?”

I nodded. “I’m sure. You can make it up to me this weekend.”

His eyes brightened at that. “Definitely,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Hank stood, stretching slightly before grabbing his phone and jacket, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer.

I stood too, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine before he lifted a hand to gently cup my face. Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was simple, unhurried, but full of warmth.

When he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, and I found myself smiling up at him, wishing the night didn’t have to end.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady. I smiled, standing there for a second longer. He stepped back reluctantly, and I followed him to the door, watching as he slipped on his shoes. It felt like we were both silently holding onto the night, neither of us wanting it to end. But reality had other plans, and before I knew it, he was opening the door, pausing to give me one last smile.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a promise of more moments like this.

“Goodnight, Hank,” I replied, my heart doing that little flutter it always seemed to do around him.

He left, the door closing softly behind him, and I stood there for a second, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, the absence of his presence leaving a hollow kind of stillness in the air. I sighed, turning back toward the couch. The movie was still playing, but my mind was far from it.

I flopped back onto the cushions, staring at the screen but not really paying attention. My thoughts drifted to Hank, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the future, even if it was just about something as simple as bowling.

And then there was that text from Yvonne. It wasn’t a big deal. Work was work, after all. Hank had a job, and I knew what the service industry was like—unpredictable hours, people needing shifts covered last minute. I shook my head, brushing the thought away. There was no point in overthinking it. He was just doing his job, nothing more.

Still, the flicker of disappointment lingered as I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. I glanced at my phone, half-hoping for a message from him already, but of course, there was nothing. He’d barely been gone for ten minutes.

I stretched out on the couch, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around me. As much as I wanted to distract myself, my thoughts kept circling back to Hank. The way he’d opened up to me tonight, the ease of our conversation, the comfortable silence that followed. It felt… real. Like we were building something more than just a casual fling.

I smiled to myself, hugging a cushion to my chest as I thought about the plans we’d made for the weekend. I was already looking forward to it.

The next day at work, I found myself replaying moments from last night more times than I cared to admit. Between patient check-ups and scribbling notes into charts, my mind kept drifting back to Hank. His smile, the way his hand had brushed against mine as we joked about Die Hard, and the playful challenge in his eyes when he suggested bowling.

I wasn’t used to feeling this… giddy. Like a teenager with a crush. But I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed it.

The next few days flew by, punctuated by Hank’s texts that never failed to bring a smile to my face. Each message was like a little nudge, reminding me of our budding connection and the easy banter that had become a highlight of my day.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I was finishing up a routine exam on a tabby cat. I eagerly pulled it out, my heart lifting as I read his latest message.

Hey. Still ready for our little bowling disaster tomorrow? ;) I’ve already started looking up fancy restaurants for the victory dinner after I get you that strike.

I bit back a laugh, quickly typing out a reply as I stepped out of the exam room.

You’re really confident, huh? You think you can work miracles?

His reply came almost instantly.

Don’t worry, it’s not a miracle—just skill. See you tomorrow?

I smiled at my phone, excitement buzzing through me.

See you tomorrow.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, the flutter of anticipation for tomorrow’s challenge made the rest of the workday feel like a breeze.

The day of our bowling date arrived with a sense of something imminent and thrilling. It felt like stepping into a scene I had replayed in my mind a thousand times, each replay slightly different from the last, anticipation building with each iteration.

I chose my outfit with more thought than usual, opting for comfort yet wanting to look good for whatever the evening might throw at us. Settling on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft, fluttery top that I knew flattered my figure, I left my hair down, hoping the curls would hold through the night.

By the time I got to the bowling alley, I was half-excited and half-dreading the inevitable disaster that was about to unfold.

Hank was already waiting by the entrance when I arrived, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw me. He was dressed casually, in a faded orange tee layered over a long-sleeve white shirt, paired with rugged green cargo pants—perfect for a laid-back evening but stylish enough to show he’d made an effort.

“Ready to embarrass yourself?” he asked, that familiar spark of challenge in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m warning you now—this is going to be bad. Like, really bad.”

Hank chuckled, slipping his arm around my waist as we headed inside. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you look good out there.”

The energy of the bowling alley hit us as soon as we walked through the doors. The clattering of pins echoed in the background, and the warm scent of fried food mingled with the polished wood of the lanes. Hank grabbed our shoes from the counter, handing mine over with a smirk.

“You’re about to witness true talent,” he teased, lacing up his bowling shoes. His eyes glinted with challenge, and I couldn’t help but feel the spark of competition light inside me, even though I knew I had zero chance of winning.

I raised an eyebrow as I slipped on my shoes. “Talent? We’ll see about that.”

We found a lane near the back where it was quieter, and Hank took his position, confidently selecting a ball like he was a pro. He rolled it effortlessly down the lane, and naturally, it was a strike. The pins crashed, and Hank turned to me with a cocky grin.

“Alright, show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, leaning casually against the ball return as I approached the lane.

I selected a ball, already feeling the weight of failure pressing down on me. With a deep breath, I gave it my best shot, releasing the ball with a prayer… and watched it veer straight into the gutter.

Hank let out a deep laugh that filled the air, and I turned back to face him with a sheepish smile. “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t kidding about being terrible.”

“You weren’t lying,” he teased, coming over to stand beside me. “But don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’m not just a bowling master; I’m also a teacher.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” I laughed.

He stood behind me, guiding my hands as I gripped the ball again. His hands settled on my shoulders as he adjusted my stance, his voice low as he murmured instructions. “Relax your shoulders. Focus on your target. Don’t overthink it.”

His proximity sent a shiver down my spine, but I managed to focus long enough to send the ball rolling down the lane. It teetered dangerously close to the gutter again but stayed just inside the line, knocking down a few pins.

“Hey, progress!” Hank cheered, high-fiving me. “Next time, we’ll get you that strike.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little thrill of victory. “At this rate, you’ll have me competing in leagues.”

We took turns after that, the lighthearted competition between us growing with each round. Hank was obviously better than me—every shot he took seemed effortless—but I wasn’t doing as badly as I’d expected.

Finally, after a few more rounds, it happened.

I rolled the ball, holding my breath as it glided smoothly down the lane. One by one, the pins toppled over, and before I even realised it, they were all down. I blinked, staring at the empty lane in disbelief.

“You did it!” Hank exclaimed, grabbing me around the waist and spinning me in the air, his excitement almost infectious.

I laughed, feeling a rush of triumph. “I actually did it!”

“You owe me dinner,” he said with a wide grin, setting me back down.

“Fair enough,” I replied, breathless but happy. “So, where are we going?”

His hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer before he pulled away. “It’s a surprise,” he said, “But I think you’ll like it.”

We grabbed our things, leaving the bowling alley behind as the excitement of the evening still buzzed between us. There was something about the ease of the night, the way we slipped into this playful, carefree rhythm with each other, that made it feel like we’d known each other forever.

Outside, the night greeted us with a soft breeze, the distant hum of the city filling the silence between us. Hank reached for my hand, his fingers lightly intertwining with mine. I glanced over at him, smiling as we strolled down the street together, curious about the mystery spot he had in mind for dinner.

We meandered through the city, the lively energy of the evening palpable as people dined and laughed around us. Hank’s steps seemed purposeful yet relaxed, and his hand felt warm in mine. As we approached a colourful, somewhat eclectic-looking place with a neon sign proclaiming “Lucky’s Brew & Q,” my curiosity piqued.

“This place is a bit of a local legend,” Hank said with a grin, pushing open the door to a buzz of activity and a mix of aromas that promised good food and a great time.

Inside, the decor was a vibrant collage of vintage signs, quirky artwork, and strings of lights that cast a cheerful glow over the wooden tables. The chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses added to the lively atmosphere, making it immediately welcoming.

“Lucky’s is famous for their craft beers and killer BBQ,” Hank explained as we found a spot at a rustic bar table. “It’s laid-back but always a lot of fun.”

The menu was a delight of comfort foods, featuring everything from spicy buffalo wings to loaded nachos and slow-cooked ribs. We ordered a pitcher of their house craft beer and a mix of finger foods to share, keeping the mood light and carefree.

As we sipped our beers, I took a moment to glance around the busy bar, noting it was a typical bustling Saturday night elsewhere in the city. Intrigued, I turned back to Hank. “So, it’s Saturday night and Lucky’s is packed. I’m surprised they didn’t need you at the bar tonight, especially since you mentioned being short-staffed.”

Hank nodded, his expression mingling gratitude with a hint of worry. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’re short-staffed since one of the bartenders quit. Yvonne’s been picking up a lot of slack, and normally, I would have had to help out.” He took a slow sip of his beer, his gaze lingering on the glass as he set it down. “But I talked to my manager Edwin earlier this week, made it clear I needed tonight off. Took a bit of negotiating and promising to cover some extra shifts next week.”

“That sounds tough, always having to balance things like that,” I said, my tone soft, empathetic to the strain such a situation must place on him.

“It’s part of the gig,” he shrugged slightly, but his smile returned quickly. “But it’s worth it, especially for nights like this.” His hand found mine across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, his warmth reassuring.

“I’m glad you did. It’s been a great night,” I smiled, squeezing back, appreciating the effort he made to make our evening together possible.

The food was delicious—messy and rich with flavours. We challenged each other to try the spiciest wings, which led to a bout of playful competition as we raced for the cooling relief of our beers. The casual setting felt just right, allowing us to let our guards down and enjoy each other’s company without pretence.

As the evening wound down, the bar began to quiet, and the earlier energy settled into a comfortable hum. Hank glanced at me, a playful yet sincere expression on his face. “I hope this place hit the mark for our victory dinner.”

I laughed, wiping my hands on a napkin. “It was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better evening.”

Hank’s smile deepened, and he reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I’m really glad to hear that. I wanted tonight to feel just right.”

We lingered a while longer at Lucky’s, finishing our drinks and talking about everything and nothing at all. The comfortable ease that had defined our evening was still there, but now it carried a little more weight—something unspoken hanging between us. Hank leaned back in his chair, his gaze soft yet intent as he looked at me across the table.

“You want to grab another drink somewhere? Or…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking to the door, then back to me. His voice softened as he added, “We could head back to my place, or yours. No pressure.”

The way he said it, so casual and sincere, made my stomach flip with both nerves and excitement. There wasn’t any expectation in his tone—just an invitation. The night had been perfect so far, and part of me wanted to keep it going, to see where this connection would take us.

I met his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary, weighing the options. The warmth of the bar, the low hum of conversation around us, and the slight buzz from the drinks all made me feel bold. “Your place sounds good,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart raced.

Hank’s smile widened, not quite a smirk, but something close. He stood up, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

We stepped outside, the sudden quiet almost jarring after the buzz of the bar. Hank’s hand was still holding mine as we walked, his thumb lightly tracing circles over my skin. The streets were quieter now, the occasional car passing by, but it felt like the city had slowed down just for us.

We were nearing Hank’s building when I heard a scuffling sound from farther down the street, followed by a gruff voice and the unmistakable thud of someone being shoved. I turned my head and saw two figures hunched over someone—an older man, who stumbled backward into a parked car.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, my steps slowing. Hank’s expression darkened instantly. His hand left mine as he picked up his pace, his entire body tensing. “Stay here,” he said firmly, but I didn’t.

As we approached, I got a better look at the scene. The man being pushed around looked dishevelled, his clothes worn and grimy, his face creased with age and weathered by something more. He was trying to stand upright, but it was clear he wasn’t in any shape to defend himself. The two younger men messing with him barely even glanced our way as we came closer, too focused on taunting the helpless man.

“Hey!” Hank shouted, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. The two men froze for a moment, then turned to face him, eyes narrowing. The taller of the two sneered, clearly unimpressed.

“Mind your business, man.”

“This is my business,” Hank said, stepping between the older man and the two younger guys. His voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Leave him alone.”

The second guy, wearing a ratty hoodie, raised his chin defiantly. “Or what?”

I felt my heart hammering in my chest. The last thing we needed was for this to turn into a fight, and Hank wasn’t exactly small, but these two guys looked like they were itching for trouble.

“Or you’re going to regret it,” Hank replied evenly, his posture unyielding. “Just walk away.”

For a moment, no one moved, and I felt my pulse quicken in the silence. But after a tense beat, the taller guy scoffed, nudging his friend. “Whatever, man. Let’s go.”

With one last glance at Hank, they slinked away into the shadows of the street, leaving the older man slumped against the car, groaning softly.

Hank immediately turned his attention to him, crouching down and gently placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Jason,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “You alright?”

I blinked, taking a step closer. “You know him?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Hank sighed, helping Jason stand upright, though the man was clearly struggling to stay on his feet. “He’s been around the block for years. Jason’s… he’s got a rough life. Drinks a lot, doesn’t really have anyone looking out for him.”

Jason mumbled something incoherent, his eyes glassy, and I could smell the alcohol on him from where I stood. He was in bad shape, bruised from the attack and barely able to hold himself up.

“He needs a hospital,” I said, glancing at Hank.

Hank nodded grimly. “Yeah, we need to get him checked out.”

I quickly pulled out my phone, calling for an Uber. “I’ll get us a ride,” I said as Hank shifted Jason’s weight onto his shoulder, steadying him as best as he could.

Within minutes, the car arrived, and with some effort, we managed to get Jason into the backseat. The driver shot us a wary look but didn’t say anything as we told him to head to the nearest hospital.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, the atmosphere heavy. Jason was slipping in and out of consciousness beside Hank, who kept a close eye on him, holding him upright. I sat in the front seat, casting glances back at them every so often, a knot of worry tightening in my chest.

When we arrived, Hank and I practically carried Jason inside, the nurses at the front desk immediately recognising the severity of the situation. A wheelchair was brought over, and they whisked him away without hesitation.

We found ourselves in the waiting area soon after, the harsh lights of the emergency room flickering overhead. Hank sat beside me, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. His face was tense, his mind clearly elsewhere.

I touched his arm gently. “You okay?”

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change much. “Yeah. I just… I hate seeing him like this,” Hank muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Jason’s been living on that block longer than I’ve been around. He’s harmless, but no one really looks after him. I try to keep an eye on him when I can, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I should’ve done more.”

“You’re doing what you can,” I said softly. “You helped him tonight. If you hadn’t been there… I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened.”

Hank let out a long sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “I guess. It’s just… it’s tough seeing someone like that. It feels like the whole world’s forgotten about him.”

We sat in silence for a while after that, the hum of the hospital around us filling the quiet. Eventually, a nurse came over to let us know that Jason was stable, but that his condition was a result of years of heavy drinking. They were going to admit him for observation, but it wasn’t his first time here, and it wouldn’t likely be his last.

Hank thanked the nurse, but I could see the worry still etched into his face as we stepped back outside. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the hospital.

“Do you want to head back to my place?” Hank asked quietly after a moment, his voice subdued.

I thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The ride back to Hank’s was quiet, the earlier buzz of the night replaced by a heavy calm. By the time we got to his apartment, the exhaustion from the night had settled in. Hank unlocked the door, pushing it open, and I followed him inside, both of us moving quietly, still processing everything that had happened.

I sat down on the couch, letting out a long breath as the weight of the evening finally settled over me. Hank disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of water.

“Thanks,” I said softly as he handed me one. He sat down beside me, leaning back, his hand finding mine again.

“I’m really glad you were with me tonight,” he said quietly after a few moments of silence. “It… it made everything easier.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad I was there too.”

We stayed like that for a while, the quiet between us comfortable, almost soothing. After everything, there wasn’t much else to say. Eventually, Hank’s arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me close until we were lying together on the couch, the weight of the night slowly giving way to a shared sense of calm.

And even though the night had taken an unexpected turn, being here with him felt exactly where I was meant to be.

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