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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 13 hours ago

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a Second Chance | Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Summary: After being in a secret relationship with Rafe and becoming pregnant, he denied the entire relationship, making it known your son wasn’t his. However, he can’t deny it for much longer - your son is the spitting image of Rafe.

Part 1

A/N: This is a continuation of the fic above. This can be read as stand alone or you can read the other first for a bit of background on how things played out and telling Rafe you were expecting.

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Your son's giggles were music to your ears. You smiled in adoration at his uncle JJ chasing him through the yard, his little toddler legs moving as fast as they could. He loved his uncle JJ. And his other aunts and uncles too. After all the drama with Rafe, he and the other Pogues stepped in, becoming your village and boy are you glad you had them. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.

Rafe continued the story, the baby wasn’t his and you were never in a relationship. However, as time has passed, people are starting to get suspicious, especially as your son grows because he’s the spitting image of Rafe. It is getting to the point, Rafe truly can’t deny him.

“Come on boys, let's get to the beach before it gets crowded,” You call out to JJ and Jackson; the other Pogues loading up in the Twinkie. You and JJ worked hard, going in half on a car that JJ rebuilt to make it drivable. JJ knew the Twinkie wouldn’t be a safe vehicle to transport his tiny nephew and made it his mission to find you something sustainable and reliable.

“Mama!” Jackson squeals as he nears, jumping into your arms.

You laugh and kiss his head before placing him in his carseat and securing him. “Ready to go to the beach?”

He nods with a big grin; Rafe’s smile. The smile you’d fell in love with. You can’t deny it doesn’t hurt a little when you look at your son, because staring back is Rafe and all the hurt that came with him. But you wouldn’t trade Jackson for anything in the world. He’d brought light into your life and filled your broken heart. Jackson is so smart and intelligent, even at only 3 years old. He’s got a sweet and loving personality and he loves when he can make you laugh. And Rafe is missing it all, time he will never get back.

After settling at a spot on the beach, you all unpacked, setting the chairs and umbrella up. Pope dropping the cooler under the umbrella with a grunt, “jeez what the hell did you guys pack in that thing.”

Jackson started tugging you toward the water, “come mama!”

“No baby hold on, let's put sunscreen on first. Then you can get in the water.”

He pouts but stops tugging, letting you lather him in the sunscreen.

“Once mama is finished me and you can go check out those waves!” JJ holds his fist to Jackson, who returns with a fist bump.

“Alright you’re finished!” You kiss him on the head and he takes off toward the water with JJ. JJ picks him up and wades into the water with him. Jackson laughing hysterically as the waves crash against them.

“beer?” Kie asks, as you take a seat in the beach chair next to her.

"Yes thank you,” you sigh, taking a sip, “I love that the beach is nearly empty-”

Loud music catches you and the other Pogues attention, watching as a couple trucks and a jeep drive thru the sand behind you. You recognized Topper’s jeep and groaned.

“Please keep driving..” Sarah pleads.

“Anywhere but here.” Kie adds.

“Of course.” John B says as they stop a little ways down the beach, “This entire beach and they pick that spot?”

You take a sip of your beer, nearly choking on it as you see someone hop out of the dark blue truck. Rafe.

“Shit.” Kie mumbles.

He rounds the truck and opens the passenger side, another person gets out of the truck and it’s Sofia.

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, “you gonna be ok?”

You give her a reassuring smile and nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” You gaze out at the ocean, JJ has noticed the kooks and he looks over at you, a look of concern on his face. You nod at him, letting him know you’re okay. He continues to play with Jackson, holding his hand as he stands with his toes in the sand, jumping over the waves as they break against the beach.

“We’re both adults here. Maybe me more than him but it’s ok.” You glance between Sarah and Kie, “He’s living his best life - while I raise our son that he denies is his.”

John B squeezes your shoulders, “And you’re doing a damn good job at it too.”

The rest of the Pogues pipe in, “Hell ya you are,” “You’re killing it.”

“Thanks you guys,” Your eyes dance between the Pogues, “I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Your eyes grow teary, “Ok okay stop you guys are gonna make me cry,” You shake your hands out, wiping your face, “enough sappy talk. Let’s enjoy our beach day!”

Rafe watches you and the Pogues playing with Jackson by the water, taking a sip of his beer.

Sofia comes up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, “Her son is cute,” She says with a smile, looking up at him.

He hums in response, not pulling his eyes from you and Jackson. He knew now, there was no denying Jackson. He looked just like him. Topper flat out asked the other day if Jackson was his.

“He looks just like you man.”

Rafe shrugged, “I don’t see it. He’s not mine though. She was screwing everyone on the island. There’s no telling who the father is.” He tried to keep up with the lie, but Topper wasn’t stupid. Topper knew you weren’t sleeping around, you’d never been like that. But he let him continue the lie, dropping the topic completely.

“I bet our kids will be cute.”

Now that caught his attention. He snaps his head toward her, “What?”

Sofia smiles, “When we have kids, I bet they will be cute.” She’s in dreamland, wondering what life with Rafe Cameron would be like. Getting married, having a big house on the island, having kids etc etc. Little did she know, Rafe wasn’t planning a future with her.

He nod and takes another sip of his beer, deciding not to say anything.

“Jackson wait-”

Rafe turns in time to see a ball rolling his way and Jackson chasing it. You weren’t too far behind.

Rafe bends down and picks up the ball, staying at Jackson’s level as he approaches. Jackson is hesitant to take it.

“Jackson, you can’t just run off-”

Rafe feels like he’s staring at a mirror. Topper’s right, he looks just like him. The little boys eyes are innocent and he’s overcome with a feeling he can’t describe. He feels protective of the small boy in front of him, like a father would. A surge of love flowing through him. How could anyone leave this boy without a dad? How could he have abandoned his son? Something changed the moment he looked into Jackson’s eyes.

“Here you go, buddy,” Rafe holds the ball out to him with a smile.

Jackson hesitantly takes it, looking up at you, with a small pout on his lips, “Sorry mama, my ball.”

Rafe slowly stands, the two of you coming face to face for the first time since you told him you were pregnant.

“It’s ok baby, you just can’t run off like that.” You run your fingers through his hair. You will yourself to meet Rafe’s eyes, “Sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way.”

“It’s ok.” Rafe can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. Is it possible to be more beautiful? Motherhood treated you well and he’s overwhelmed with pride to know you did it all on your own because of his stupid decision. His stupid immature decision.

Your eyes glance to Sofia, who steps up next to Rafe, pulling him from his trance, “your son.. he’s adorable.”

You give her a small smile, “Thank you.”

Rafe is mesmerized by you. He doesn’t know what’s over come him but the feelings that he buried deep inside have started bubbling to the surface.

“Jackson, you know you’re not suppose to talk to strangers.” JJ takes a dig at Rafe as he approaches, scooping up Jackson in his arms.

Rafe’s jaw clenches at JJ’s comment. Stranger. He’s no stranger. He’s his father- but he catches himself. JJ’s right. He truly is a stranger to him and he has no right to call himself his father.

Jackson wraps his tiny arms around JJ’s neck, snuggling into his shoulder. That stirs some jealousy within Rafe. He should be the one hugging his son and playing ball with him on the beach. He should be the one there, the three of you as a family.

“We better get back. Sorry for bothering you guys.” You apologized, following JJ back to the rest of the pogues.

Rafe watches you walk away, his heart aching. He should have told you the truth. And he shouldn’t have lied all these years about Jackson.

JJ holds Jackson with one arm and wraps his other around your shoulders, “you ok?”

You nod, “I’m good. You shouldn’t have made the comment you did”

JJ rolls his eyes, “it’s not like it wasn’t true. He’s a stranger.”

You shrug, “I know but-“

“No buts. He’s a stranger to Jackson. Even if he shares DNA with him.” He snaps back.

It was a touchy subject with JJ and you knew the conversation was over. JJ was protective over you and he held a huge grudge against Rafe for abandoning the two of you. Especially Jackson. He wanted Jackson to have a dad, something you and him didn’t have growing up.

Rafe laid in bed that night with you and Jackson on his mind. He couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning the entire night. Sofia is sound asleep next to him. He squints, peering to check the time on the clock, 6:37 am. He sighs running a hand over his face before quietly getting out of bed and toward the shower. He wanted to see you again and talk. He needed to talk to you.

“Rafe?” Sofia’s sleepy voice calls out to him, hands feeling his spot on the bed.

Rafe comes to her side, showered and dressed, kisses her forehead. “Early meeting. Be back later.”

She hums and turns back over, falling back asleep.

He pulls up to the Maybank house a little while later. Glancing over in the passenger seat, coffee for you and him. He hopes you still liked your coffee with 2 creams and 2 sugars. He also picked up some muffins and donuts, unsure what Jackson would like.

He was nervous, gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. He can still turn around and go home. You don’t even know he’s here yet.

He shakes his head, no there’s no talking him out of this. He needs to have this talk. He’s 2 years two late. Technically almost 3 years.

Well shit there’s no turning around now cause here you come walking toward his truck. He takes a deep breath, now or never.

He steps out of the truck, “morning.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask tightening your robe around you, “it’s nearly 7:30 in the morning.”

“Brought coffee and breakfast.” He says, reaching inside to grab the coffee and bag. “I was hoping we could talk?”

“Now you want to talk? You’re a couple years too late Rafe.” You’re eyeing the coffee, yearning for your boost of caffeine.

He sighs, “I know, I have no right to show up here unannounced either but, after seeing you guys yesterday I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He offers the coffee, “two cream and two sugar?”

You nod, slowly reaching to take the coffee, “you still remember?” You ask, surprised. Even after all these years he remembered? You felt a soft tug on your heart. No y/n. You tell yourself, smooshing those feelings back down. It was not the time to go soft.

He shrugs, also handing you the bag of muffins and donuts, “It’s not the hardest coffee order, but yes I still remember. There’s muffins and donuts in there, I wasn’t sure-” He scratches the back of his neck, growing uncomfortable, “I wasn’t sure what Jackson liked.”

“He’s a fan of both. He pretty much will eat anything,” You turn and head for the porch, “Everyone is still asleep, let me put this inside and we can go to the dock.”

Rafe nods and takes the time to check out what all you two have done with the place. It was different than when he was here last, new dock and boathouse, the landscaping had been cleaned up and the house actually looked livable. Jackson’s toys were strewed around the grass.

“ready?” You ask, heading down toward the dock, Rafe following. You two take a seat on the bench at the end of the dock.

“So, now that Jackson is older, people are starting to notice how much he looks just like you. You can’t keep up with whatever lie you’ve been spreading. Are you here to try and make me come up with an excuse for where his father is? So, you can go about your life?” You ask, bitterly.

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to step up and apologize. And explain my immature behavior.” He stands back up, pacing the dock in front of you. His nerves are getting the best of him. He had this speech all planned out but sitting in front of you, he’s forgot what to say. “I wasn’t in the right head space. And I for sure wasn’t ready to be a father. You saw what I was like. I was drinking, partying. Hell, I was even doing coke at that point.”

You sit quietly, sipping your coffee as you listen to him. It wasn’t anything you didn't know, to tell you the truth. You also were doing all those things at the time, minus the coke, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you’d stepped up and knew all of that had to come to an end. You were going to be a mother.

“I was doing the same things, Rafe. I don’t see that being an excuse. I stepped up when I needed to because I had too. It was something you needed to do as well, but you weren’t ready to give up that life yet. You weren’t ready to give up your lifestyle to become a father.”

“I know. and that’s the truth, I didn’t want to give up my partying lifestyle for a kid. I was also scared what people would think of me, getting a girl from the cut pregnant. No one even knew we were dating-”

“So you were ashamed of me? You’re really not doing yourself any favors right now-” You scoffed, standing, “I get it, Rafe. It would have been the worst thing for a kook to get a pogue pregnant. People would have judged you and never looked at you the same-” You turn to head back toward the house. “I’m so tired of this kook vs pogue bullshit.”

“Baby-” He gently grabs your arm to stop you, letting the pet name slip, “I mean y/n- That’s not what I was trying to say. Fuck, this is not how I wanted this to go. Please, I’m trying to apologize. I was an immature kid back then and I’m here now to apologize, make things right and take responsibility.”

“Rafe,” you sigh, “we’re doing fine right now. Without having you in our lives. We’ve made it work. It’s been 3 years, just let it go. I’ll keep on with the lie, you can continue to live your life how you want. Get married, have other kids. Whatever you want to do.”

“I don’t want to do that, y/n. That’s what I’m here for. I want to be apart of Jackson’s life. A part of your life.” His hand has slipped down from your arm to your hand, his thumb subconsciously caressing your skin. “Please give me another chance. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not the man I was before. My dad has made me a manager at his company. I have a steady job, a house of my own. I’m not the immature teenager I was before.” His eyes are pleading for another chance to do the right thing.

You don’t know how to describe it as you stare into Rafe’s eyes, that they look the same as they did when you fell in love with him, but have a different softness to them. He’s genuine. But you don’t know if you can trust him. He broke you and you weren’t ready to open those doors again. You weren’t ready to open yourself back to him. You had Jackson to think about now and had to take his feeling into account. Could you trust Rafe?

“What about Sofia? What does she think of all this?” You remove your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. “She seems like a great girl.”

“If I’m honest with you, I haven’t talked to her about it. Me and her aren’t serious.”

“Maybe you should go home and talk things over with her. I can’t make a decision now. I need time to think it over.”

His shoulders sag in defeat, but he ultimately nods, “Take all the time you need.. I’ll be here waiting.”

Rafe left your house and immediately went to Tannyhill, hoping he could catch his dad before leaving for his meeting at 11. “Morning Rose,” He greets as he enters the kitchen, Rose is drinking coffee at the island, Wheezie next to her. He kisses Wheezie on the head, “Wheezie,”

“Morning,” They say in unison.

“Is Dad still here?”

“In his office,” Rose nods, “He had a couple things to finish before the meeting.”

“Thanks,” Rafe heads toward his office, knocking, “Dad?”

“Come in,” Ward calls out, “Morning Rafe, you ready for the big meeting this morning?”

“Ready. But I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He takes a seat across from Ward’s desk. Ward can tell there is something on his son’s mind and closes his laptop to give his full attention.

“What’s going on?”

Rafe takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, “You know y/n Maybank?”

“Yes-” Ward says, leaning forward a little, “What about her?”

“Me and her dated a few years ago.”

“Mmhmm.” ward nods, “What about it?”

Rafe takes another deep shaky breath. Ward begins to think about it, remembering she had a son. Who was about 3-

“The boy- Jackson. He’s yours?” Ward asks in disbelief.

Rafe gives a short nod, “I fucked up.”

Ward slowly sits back in his chair, taking it all in. Old Ward would have blown up, told Rafe how stupid could he have been. “How long have you known?” He asks.

“Since she told me she was pregnant.” He can’t help but get teary eyed, still on edge as he waits for his dad to blow up on him. “I told you I fucked up.”

Ward mulls over this new and shocking information. “Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Ward asks.

“I was terrified. Immature. I didn’t want to be a dad. I was partying all the time and wasn’t ready to give it up and be a dad.” He tells him honestly, “It was a shitty decision and I regret it.”

“You should have took responsibility son.” He sighs, “But I know you weren’t in the right head space.” He stands and rounds his large desk, taking the seat next to his son, “Rehab changed you for the better.”

Rafe nods, “I’m trying to fix things. I want to be in his life. I went to her this morning and we talked. She’s hesitant to give me a chance.”

“She has every right to be hesitant.” Ward defends, you, “That’s her son.”

“He’s mine too,” Rafe says, but sighs, “But you’re right. It is her son. I’ve given her no reason to trust me.”

Ward nods, “Time will give her that. You’ve done the hardest part. Admitted you were wrong and apologized.” He squeezes Rafe’s shoulder, “It’s time for you to take responsibility.”

Rafe nods in response, “I’m sorry dad. I should have told you the truth.”

Ward agrees. He gives Rafe a small smile, “So I have a grandson, huh?”

Rafe was in agony. It had been a week since he talked to you. You hadn’t tried reaching out yet and he was starting to get worried that you weren’t going to give him a second chance. He’d called it quits with Sofia, who didn’t take it easily, but she admitted she knew she’d seen a change in him after the beach day. And had admitted she’d wondered about Jackson. She saw the resemblance and the way Rafe had looked at you. He was still in love with you.

You’d told the Pogues that morning over breakfast, JJ had flipped.

“Like hell he deserves another chance!”

“JJ, you don’t get to make the decision, I do.”

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed. It wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again.

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed that it wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again.

Your heart is pounding against your chest as you take the stairs up to Rafe’s front door. You looked around the outside of the house. It was a nice, expensive house on the water. Two story on stilts as most houses near water are built.

His truck was parked under the house so you knew he was home.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Rafe was surprised to see you at his front door. It had been a week and he was beginning to wonder if you were even gonna make a decision. The longer it took the more he felt he wasn’t going to get his second chance.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” you point inside, “can I come in so we can talk?”

“Yeah yeah of course.” He opens the door wider for you to enter, closing it behind you.

The place was clean and sleek. It looked like a bachelor pad.

“You want anything to drink? I’ve got water, juice, a beer..” he chuckles softly, motioning to the kitchen.

You follow him into the kitchen, “Water is fine,” You lay your purse in the chair at the island. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m nervous.”

He fixes you a glass of water and you take a chance to look around the room.

“no need to be nervous,”

You see in the corner of the living room there’s a small kids battery powered jeep and a couple other shopping bags around it.

He sees you have noticed the stuff and slides the water to you, “my dad.. he uh he bought it for Jackson and Rose picked up a few things for him too.”

“Thats’s very sweet of them. But wait, you told your dad?” You’re surprised and look to him, “I thought you hated him.. you guys didn’t have a great relationship.”

“We patched things up after I got back from rehab.”

“Rehab?” You ask shocked, “I didn’t know, when did you go to rehab?”

He clears his throat, “few months after we broke up. Or I broke things off. Ward found me half dead on some laced coke I bought and when I woke up he made me go to rehab. Best decision I could have made.”

“That’s awesome, Rafe. Im happy for you. I know having a better relationship with your dad was what you always talked about wanting.” You give him a soft smile.

“Yeah yeah it’s good now.” He heads toward the back deck overlooking the water and you follow taking in the view but Rafe, he’s watching you, taking you in.

You catch him watching you and can’t help but blush, “why are you looking at me like that?”

Now he blushes, embarrassed he’d been caught, “sorry, we can sit here to talk.” He takes a seat on the couch and you take a seat on the other side.

You take a deep breath, “I’ve done a lot of thinking over this.”

He nods, hands clasped together he places his elbows on his thighs leaning closer, “yeah?”

You look at him, “We’ll start out easy and slow. He’s not to know you’re his dad yet. I want him to be comfortable with you. He doesn’t truly understand the whole dad thing either, so I don’t want to confuse him. We call all hang out together first and then if I feel comfortable enough maybe you can take him on your own for a couple hours. I don’t trust you yet, Rafe. You broke that trust and I need time. But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And I want Jackson to grow up with a dad who loves him. Something JJ and I didn’t have growing up.”

He resists every muscle in his body not to hug you. “I can be that. I will be that.”

He reaches over and you let him take your hand, “thank you for this.” He gives it a gentle squeeze, “you don’t know how much this chance means to me.”

A couple days later you and Jackson meet Rafe at his house, planning to spend the day there. Rafe had asked you a million questions about Jackson; his likes, dislikes, what toys he liked to play with, what he liked to do. He wanted to know as much as he could so he could be prepared for today.

“Hey!” Rafe greets at the door, “What’s up little man?”

Jackson’s shy at first and he peeks out from your shoulder at Rafe, muttering a quiet, “Hi.”

“He’s a little shy. And he just woke up from a nap.” you follow Rafe inside and he helps to take the bag off your shoulders.

“It’s all good. I understand.” He nervously wipes his hands on his shorts, “I got his favorite foods. The kitchen is stocked and-”

“Toys!” Jackson gasps, wiggling out of your arms and immediately taking off toward the pile of toys. The jeep Ward bought him was there and a couple other new toys Rafe picked up.

“Can I play?” Jackson asks, his eyes lighting up.

“They’re yours! You can play with them all. After lunch we can take that jeep outside and you can ride around the yard.” Rafe says, taking a seat on the couch to watch him.

“You didn’t have to get all these...” You sit next to Rafe.

Rafe shrugs, “I know but he didn’t have anything here. I want him to be comfortable.” He slips off the couch and sits in the floor next to Jackson, helping him open the toys. Rafe teaches him how to play with a couple of them, showing him how they work.

You couldn’t believe the change in Rafe. It was like a different man sitting in the floor. And the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had the same look of concentration on their face and you laughed softly to yourself after snapping a picture. Sarah had asked how it was going, so you sent her the picture. She was happy to know her brother was stepping up and also made a comment about their same look of concentration.

As you stared at Rafe, a new feeling was starting to take form. A longing for something more and hope that maybe you could get your happy ever after and your dream of a family to become a reality.

Comments, likes, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! I love to read your thoughts on it.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.”

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.”

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice, he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments.

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else.

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using.

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Well obviously something’s wrong.”

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?”

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?”

“I’m not upset!”

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-”

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him.

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon.

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be.

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?”

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins.

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time.

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you.

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-”

“I didn’t get in.”

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke.

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock.

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!”

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has.

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand.

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation.

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say.

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?”

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds.

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.”

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive.

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest.

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to.

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear.

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you.

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you.

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed.

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?”

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving.

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.”

“Where?”

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace.

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.”

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for.

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified.

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.”

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home.

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers.

“You promise you’ll come home, right?”

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too.

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness.

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.”

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did.

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.”

Frankie, Present

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point.

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings.

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you.

Well, he can’t think about you as much.

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him.

He let you take the first shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run.

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you.

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.”

“You barely run the mile in gym class.”

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.”

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you.

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to.

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans.

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day.

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement.

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.”

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings.

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.”

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.”

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).”

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past.

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible.

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him.

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer.

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school.

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too.

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school.

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble.

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed.

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to.

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him.

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage.

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment.

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him.

August 18th, 2006

Frankie,

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage.

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL.

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person!

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha).

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo.

From,

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line.

October 13th, 2009

Frankie,

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe.

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet.

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do.

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie.

Kenzie

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong.

February 4th, 2011

Hey,

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways.

I guess I’ll see you when I see you.

MacKenzie

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business.

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull.

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done?

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

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@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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dadvans · 12 hours ago

Text

seven (+) sentence sunday

from the continued buck finds out he and tommy have a kid 10 years after the fact timeline

Buck shows Mary how to measure out dry ingredients into one bowl, slide a knife over the top of a cup to make sure each measurement is even, mix in the wet slowly and not all at once. She grimaces at the feeling of rolling the dough into balls between her palms, and Buck probably lets her taste test too many chocolate chips.

Mary likes baking fine. She likes the cookie fresh from the oven that Buck lets her have before dinner even better, while Tommy continues to nap. But while she signals her appreciation for the end product by trying to immediately ask for just one more, after a day of seeing himself reflected in her, the overall experience is one of the first things that reminds him that she’s definitely Tommy’s kid too.

The second thing, the bigger thing, is that she’s figured out how to work his TV, and she immediately searches for ESPN. He can hear the sports commentary from the kitchen while he starts finishing the chili, and when Tommy wakes up and comes back downstairs, he can hear her shuffle shuffle pad pad pad from the living room to the stairs and ask him if they’re going to be allowed to “watch the games” during dinner.

“It’s not our house, kid, it might be rude to ask,” he hears Tommy say, voice sandpaper rough from sleep in a distant, familiar way.

“Daddy, we’re in the final four.”

“I have both games recording at home. We can watch them when we get home tomorrow night, even if it cuts into your bedtime. How does that sound?”

A sigh. “I want to know tonight, though. We’re so close.”

“Nothing’s gonna change overnight. This is Buck’s place, baby, we have to respect that. I don’t know what his rules are.”

Buck puts the lid back on the crockpot and steps out into the hallway to meet them. “Some kind of competition happening out here?”

Tommy sighs and scrubs at his face with one hand, but Mary lights up at the opening.

“It’s the semi-finals for March Madness tonight,” she says, like that explains everything.

“Oh.” Buck knows a majority of the guys at his house do brackets every year, but he usually tunes them out when they talk about it, and checks back into the conversation when it moves to fantasy football in the fall. “College basketball, right?”

“Mary and I do kind of a modified competitive bracket,” Tommy says. “Instead of a traditional bracket, it’s just who gets closest overall wins. With the way this year has gone, tonight is more of the decider than the actual championship.”

“If I win, we’re going to Disneyland,” Mary continues, clearly focused on what is most important.

“I didn’t even rig my bracket this year to let her win, and she’s still kicking my ass.” Tommy looks down on her, radiating a kind of pride and fondness that Buck’s never seen him inhabit before, a new part of himself that was born with her, maybe. He gets a big hand in her curls and messes them up, and she gets her hands up to swipe at his forearm, grab it, try to pull him down by sinking him with dead weight.

It’s cute, is what it is. Hits all of Buck’s weakest, most vulnerable spots.

He wishes there were room between them for him too.

#bucktommy #911 abc #mpreg #kid fic #delaney writes

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rootspiral · 2 days ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

Lilia is bickering with Jen in episode 7. she turns around and SEES ALICE, WHO WAS KILLED IN EPISODE 5

alice, don't try to save agatha! but she's whisked ever further back to episode 2 before she can finish the sentence. imagine having the power of communicating with the past but it's never enough to warn them. seeing the dead and talking to them, knowing what's going to come next. and you wonder why she chose exile and solitude.

meanwhile agatha has collected her wits long enough to decide what her short term strategy with rio is gonna be: keep her distracted, isolate her from the others, keep her away from billy. see how she takes a moment to focus and get into character? she knows rio is about to follow her like a moth to a flame

just going on a trip with my best gal pals and a random teen boy, nothing to see here!!!! and agatha knows that rio knows that she's lying. hello, rio is PERFECTLY aware that there's no Road out there capable of magicking her into a glam rock sex den. but maybe, just maybe, agatha can keep her focused on something else. honestly it would be such a waste to not put all that combined cleavage to good use!

there she was, having a chat with sharon down in the dirt, and you guys went and dragged her up. like perfect morons. I love how she brought the flower along and it ends up working really well with the outfit

oh, rio knows. she knows everything.

and agatha SHOOTS UP and GETS TOO CLOSE and FLIRTS. oh my god this bitch. just like she did in episode 1, except now she's more collected and ever more deliberate. flirting is her best weapon of mass distraction against rio. because look, rio might know all her tricks but she's only (very marginally) human! who can blame her if she lets herself be seduced a little bit, just a little bit! for old times' sake! in rio's defense her wife is very hot and she misses her very much, your honor

rio is like, bitch I got you allllll figure out but also lemme gently caress your thigh. to enhance your acting performance. what's a little supportive yes, and between exes

she's sooo hamming it up. compare her face here with the genuine yearning at the end of the episode

oh this is hilarious. the others hear rio's flirting over the PA and panic, but no, girls, enthusing about murder is legit how they talk dirty!! (lol at lilia being like, right in front of my salad???)

"gasp!!!! that's my coVEN you're talking abOUT!!!! I'm not that kiND OF wiTCH anYMOWRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the ham! the ham! she might just bring the whole deli cart over at this point

and rio with her lil delighted laugh again. she doesn't get mad for one second, she didn't expect anything else. oh agatha, you silly goose, you're so damaged and so cute

let's recap what this fucker achieved with her latest performance, because it's always fascinating to study what's going on in agatha's ferociously scheming brain. she 1) distracted rio from billy. or at least tried to. 2) hinted at Rio's true nature to the others - who knows, maybe she can manipulate them into allying against her later on? 3) pretended to flirt but also flirted a lil bit forreal because there was a lot of skin showing and the flesh is weak etc etc 4) backpedaled alllllllll the way out when things got too intimate because she's too scared and resentful to get close to rio again. playing with fire as usual. or, as the kids say today, fucking around, about to find out

alice's trial has the best aesthetic fr fr. the 70s font!

I'm not 100% sure bcs it goes by so quickly but I think rio is dancing to the cursed music???

not the turntable!! that shit's vintage!!!!!!!

*brian de palma zoom*

*dramatic pause*

WE'VE BEEN CURSED (I love you patti lupone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

INJECT THIS AESTHETIC DIRECTLY INTO MY VEINS. also alice is red, billy and agatha are blue with purple undertones. the colors in this trial seem very deliberate

"she's a tourist." "she's a PSYCHO." look she never gets to just hang out and do fun things anymore, let her be!!

rio and lilia having a little staring contest as she plays with the knife. doing their own cute archnemeses thing

agatha shaking her head at billy and going shhh when he says 'maybe this curse isn't so bad.' like KID will you stop speaking HORRORS into existence?!?

alice standing with her back straight for the first time since like, ever? or since her mom died? did everyone in the family have their own personal demon or did it switch after killing the previous person? or wait, wait, was the curse only like, a metaphor until billy accidentally turned it into a disgusting 1970s animatronic harpy??

I'm convinced rio could see the demon from the beginning. look at her face here, she's the only one who sees both lilia burning and what's causing it

poor lilia must be thinking, burning witches? soooo original and not traumatic at all (lol at patti being a pro at screaming and writhing in pain on the floor. PROFESSIONAL ACTING)

no no no that's the reaping knife careful careful careful careful

alice's spell: expelle hoc malum, expel this evil. (rio when agatha tries it on her later: WHO ARE YOU CALLING EVIL)

lol. lmao, even. (just don't think about how jen has grown seLFISH TO SURVIVE AFTER HAVING TO LIVE POWERLESS AND DEFENSELESS FOR A CENTURY AND HOW SHE BECOMES MORE AND MORE GENEROUS AS SHE SPENDS TIME WITH ALICE AND LILIA)

oh noes my character just had a beast's giant talons perched on her shoulders i should flash the twins real quick so you can see it better

everyone else: EXTREME PANICKING

rio: stops reading her magazine to glance at the disgusting invisible harpy flapping around the room. goes back to the magazine.

and with this I'm off to my extreme friday night (tea and blankie and a book). ciao!

go to episode 4 part 4

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #alice wu gulliver #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario #lilia calderu #character study

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shiny-jr · 2 days ago

Note

Any updates on the damnation au ,’)

Actually, yes, there is. Some good news, some bad news. But I'll put this off now, to get it off my shoulders. This is an important damnation update!

Let's start with the good news, shall we? The good news is, Ignihyde is less than ten pages away from completion. I have been able to write a bit for it recently, so steadily that number is going up. It has taken a while to get back into the groove of things, as it's been so long since I've written anything and I had to reread what I had, reflect and brainstorm, all that jazz. However, progress is being made slowly but surely.

Additionally, the follower count is getting closer and closer to 8,000. Like, very close. It's like I'm sitting here, yapping mostly, ranting, and occasionally putting out a post, only for new readers to go "okay, I like this" and follow, despite me not being able to post much. At this exact moment of me writing this, the follower count is 7,821 and usually soon I start reblogging previous damnation results leading up to the moment I will post the new result.

Now, notice I have yet to say anything about Diasomnia. That is because I have yet to begin writing for it, despite the ideas I already have for it.

I want to be real for a moment, and saying that this has generated some anxiety for me, which is never good.

I don't want this fun hobby to become a burden I learn to dread. There's many things I worry about. I won't be able to come anywhere near completion for Diasomnia in time, it'll be rushed and be a horrible ending to an otherwise decent series I'm mostly proud of. At this point to being so close to finishing Ignihyde's damnation story, I worry that it's not good enough. That it's nothing compared to the previous endings. That it won't be well received.

These thoughts about Ignihyde's part are something I often experience before posting something major I've worked on for a while, which I expected. I will go through with Ignihyde, as it should be done well before the milestone is reached. At the pace things are going, I will not be forcing myself to hurry to start and finish Diasomnia.

I do not want to make a mess of things, and create some unsatisfactory ending. That's why, for now, Diasomnia's ending will be delayed. I wish to write a good story, at least to the best of my ability, and I cannot do that in a time crunch while under pressure. I'm sorry if this is disappointing news. I hope I can make up for this in a good Diasomnia damnation ending later on, but not now.

Further updates for damnation, the Ignihyde ending, will be posted soon. Thank you for reading this long announcement.

#shiny speaks #damnation twst au

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alpaca-clouds · 2 days ago

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Arcane Season 2 - How Bad Pacing Can Ruin Everything

So, Arcane season 2 ended. And I am sorry, I need to vent.

I am honestly not sure whether the rumors are true and this were originally meant to be more seasons. The Riot CEO apparently denies it, but then again, I have seen CEOs confidently go out on stages to talk about a project which they knew was cancelled at that point in time. So, sorry, but I will never ever trust a CEO. Lying is like 50% of their jobs. Being greedy is the other half. Sorry, not sorry.

I am gonna write something about disability in Arcane (overall) during the next few days, but let me just talk a bit about the pacing issues of season 2.

Spoilers for season 2 - all of it - obviously.

Believe me or not, but I know the exact issue of Arcane season 2. It is called: Too many characters. Too many plotlines. It is something that easily happens when writing an ensemble story (no matter what the format is you publish the story in - it happens in books, movies, shows, games). At times it works fine if you manage to weave the entire ensemble into the same main plot. But as soon as you wanna give everyone their own little storyarc with a bit of their own themes, it often goes haywire. Either you will end up dropping some characters to the side and not properly finish up their story, or you will end up rushing everything. Neither is gonna be good.

Here I am mainly thinking... Was the entire Black Rose/LaBlanc stuff planned to be there from the beginning? Was it put in later? I mean, given that the entire story felt like it might set up Mel as a Champion for LoL... How do I put it? Mel was too overdesigned in the show, to not be a future Champion. That was my feeling from the beginning. I don't know if they gonna make her a Champion, but man, it feels like it.

But no, the main issue really is the pacing. There is just too much stuff happening.

I will remain, that the thing that shows this better than anything was the second "arc" of season 2. Episode 4-6. And the general way the entire Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx thing plays out. We have the following things happen in the first six episodes of season 2:

Cait's mother dies

Cait swears revenge and asks Vi to assist her as an enforcer

Vi does not want to. Ends up getting drunk.

Vi decides to do it anyway.

They do a bit of chemical warfare for good measures.

They go down there. Fight Jinx. Vi cannot do it - partly because Isha.

Cait breaks up with Vi and becomes the evil fascist dictator

Vi becomes an alcohol addict.

Except, never mind, Caitlin is already feeling shitty about it next episode.

Jinx gets Vi and Magic Pixie Dreamgirls her out of her new-found addiction.

Jinx and Vi are good again. They go help Vander.

Cait meets Vi for the first time since the break up. They instantly are back on the same page.

Like, there is so many plothooks in this storyline alone that do go completely unexplored.

There are two characters here, that do play a role in the last three episodes too and that felt like they were some proper characters at some point. Those two are Maddie - the Scottish-dialect enforcer girl - and... Frankly, I do not feel like looking up the name. The big burly one, who after the break-up takes care of Vi.

Those two feel like they were at some point meant to be more real characters. But because of the pacing, they are barely ideas. Maddie starts making out with Caitlyn because...? I don't know. Because I literally do not know anything about this character but "she is an enforcer", "she is queer", "she is attracted to power(?)", and thats it.

And the other guy goes with Vi because... Uhm... I don't know. I know literally nothing about this chaaracter other than that he is big and an enforcer. *shrugs*

It most certainly feels like there was some planned version of this show, in which Cait and Vi both had a proper corruption arc. In which we really saw the two of them struggle. In which we actually saw Piltover and Zaun under the control of Commander Caitlyn and Noxus, and saw the horrible things they were doing and what it was doing with Caitlyn. In which we also saw Vi struggling with addiction and stuff.

But that was not the version we got in the end. Instead in this version... things go magically well.

Hooray?

Same with Jinx. Her mental health issues just magically get better when Isha is there, because that is what the story needs to happen now.

Here, too, it also feels like huge chunks of the story are missing. It feels like there was a story going more into the relationship of Sevika and Jinx for a bit. But if that story had been there once, it was most certainly no longer there. It was hinted at, yeah, but that's it.

And then there is the entire magic plot.

Look, I think among the fans of the LoL Lore I am not the first one to say: "Yeah, trying to marry the worldbuilding of Arcane to the established Runeterra worldbuilding does not work, because of the magic." Runeterra so far was always a fairly high magic world - at least that was implied by comics and short stories. Magic was a common thing in this world. Otherwise we could not have that many magic champions and a whole place whose entire thing it had been: "We are anti-magic Nazis building mage concentration camps!"

When Riot said, that Arcane was now the main canon, A LOT of fans of the lore were like: "You get that it is not gonna work." And yeah, Arcane Season 2 clearly shows how it doesn't work.

Because the way they put in the entire "Mel is magic, also the Black Rose is a thing" stuff just... It did not fit in the entire plot around it. Because Arcane had been designed as a world where magic was very rare and strange. But now Mel had to be magic and somehow had to be connected to the Black Rose.

Also... What the fuck even happened there in the end? Why put that in? Why make Mel go against LaBlanc? I am sorry, but that was simply too much for this plot. The entire Black Rose stuff stuck out of this plot like - pardon the pun - a thorn.

Generally there are several relationships that feel, like they had at one point been a whole more explored, but then got dropped to the wayside.

As I said, Sevika and Jinx are definitely an example. Ekko and Heimerdinger as well. I also feel like what was episode 7 of the show was probably originally more than one episodes and slower paced - though it still to me was the one episode in this, that kinda worked in of itself. And that the Ekko and Jinx relationship was better established.

I also feel that Viktor and that echo of Skye was probably at some point supposed to actually have talks. Like: "I will miss talking to you." - "No, you won't." Okay? THEN SHOW ME THEM TALKING PLEASE?!

Which kinda brings me down to the main thing that happened because of the pacing issue. Season 2 of Arcane knew only two extremes in terms of "Show, don't tell". Either it goes full "music video" in whcih indeed it just shows us shit without context or dialogue - or we get the information just via dialogue, in a complete tell.

This also shows in the last episode, with the entire thing of Piltover asking the Zaunites for help, after brutally surpressing them forever. Yeah, I see where they were going with this. About being the bigger people and planting seeds and what not. But frankly, there might have been a time and space for a story like that, if properly told (you know, with giving more of the Zaunites a voice in this story, showing more of the conflict and spacing this plot out over several episodes). But a) it was not properly told, and b) a world in which several genocides happen while Trump somehow won a second term is not that world. Yes, b) is not the fault of anyone working on Arcane. That was simply bad luck on their part. But a) is very much their fault - and even if we did not have a Palestinian Genocide and no second Trump term: Without a) being done properly, it would not have worked. It would have just not felt quite as miserable.

You know, the most frustrating thing about this was, that... While I think that one way or another I would still have hated how the show handles the topic of disability (again, I will write about this during the next few days), I generally might have liked the same plot, if it had been given the needed space to breathe.

Like... Sure, I would have never really been on board with "fascist Caitlyn", or rather with "fascist Caitlyn, who gets then forgiven by everyone". But I could have somewhat swallowed it, if that forgiveness had to be earned. But because of the breakneck speed of this show, it never got earned. I am not even talking about redemption arcs here - those are always a headache - but specifically about the fact that Caitlyn gets instantly forgiven by everyone.

Also, lol. The entire thing with Ekko convincing Jinx to come along off-screen. That was unelegant.

Heck, it feels in the first four episodes, as if there was an arc being set up for Sevika in general. And it feels like that arc needed to happen, given that Sevika ends up on the COUNCIL OF PILTOVER in the epilogue. However, that Arc just does not happen. Then, like... why set it up?

That is general the issue. There is a lot of set-up and very, very little payoff to any of it.

And here is the thing. I have heard people argue about whether or not this was meant to have more seasons. But frankly: I do not think that the writers who wrote season 1 would have written this story this way had they known it would be two seasons.

Mind you, compared to some people I would not rate the writing in season 1 higher than maybe 6 or 7 of 10. It was solid, but not overwhelmingly great. But season 2 in comparison is a 2 of 10, maybe a 3 of 10, if I am being gracious.

And frankly, I do not think any writer, who is in any way worth their salt, would write a story where a main character goes evil, and then do exactly nothing with it. I mean, sorry, us writers, we are a dramatic bunch. And we will not resist the drama being served on a silver platter unless we are forced too. I cannot imagine a single writer, who will go with the end of episode 3 and then not write a bunch of angst with Caitlyn and Vi - unless they were forbidden.

And mind you, CaitVi is by far the ship I am least invested in. But it is simply such a glaring example of where the plot is rushed in a way that it hinders the character arcs.

Oh, and also... Lest. Lest in the first six episodes clearly felt like a character, who was going to play a role. Only to then disappear to not be seen again during the finale. What happened to Lest? Is she dead? Is she alive? I guess we'll never know.

*sighs* I am sorry. I really am. I am just... very disappointed. This has been a mess. And I think it would not have needed to be.

Like, the animation is still the most pretty thing ever made in the world. But man... The plot? The plot sucks balls. And not in the sexy way.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane critical #arcane spoilers #league of legends #riot games #media criticism #character writing #pacing #netflix

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 days ago

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bittersweet + ch 45

a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

45. halcyon daze

With Christmas on the horizon you take a break from your Persephone-inspired series to work on a present for John. There’s not a thing in the world you could buy him that he couldn’t buy for himself; but you have two hands, some talent and creativity: things that can’t yet be bought on Amazon. You’d noticed that he’s been working on an old set of Russian Fairytales.

It still never fails to destroy your heart, that John favors mending the binding of children’s stories, as though he can recapture and sew back together some aspect of his own broken youth.

Some of the illustrations in this edition are faded, one is even half destroyed, the paper torn. The writing is in cyrillic, you haven’t learned to read it yet, but with some [you hope] casually peppered questions, you manage to glean enough information to look up what they’re supposed to be. You make some replacements for him, and in the case of the Knight of Night in the story of Vasilisa the Beautiful, the warrior in black might bear more than a passing resemblance to your own dark assassin.

When he opens this gift the wonder in his eyes is priceless to you. “I didn’t make you anything,” he apologizes guiltily, and while you are sitting amidst the piles of your freshly bestowed loot, which you still can’t help but feel guilty about. He bought you a stylish new motorcycle jacket, a fresh set of artist series gouache tubes and paper, an antique gold art nouveau lavalier necklace in the form of a flowing narcissus flower with glowing enameled accents and a dangling pearl –you are filled with so much love you fear your heart might burst.

You crawl across the floor, into his lap. He barely has time to set the drawings aside before your mouth is on his, and you are toppling him back almost into the Christmas tree with your ardor. By the time you are finished with him, you’re pretty sure he knows how happy he makes you, but just in case you tell him for good measure. “I love you more than I know how to say.”

***

As winter drags on you look to John’s in-house gym to get exercise, even though you despise running on the treadmill. You feel like a hamster, jogging your ass off to nowhere. You try to keep up with your yoga practice, though you rarely get to finish a session. Somehow, John always manages to time walking in on you when you have your ass in the air. “Have mercy, I’m only a man,” he teases you, like this is an excuse for toppling you over and pinning you down with his body and his mouth on yours.

It’s hard to get too mad about it, considering.

You suppose you do still get a stretch and a workout, not to mention a belly laugh, in the end.

Continuing your training stays interesting, although he wasn’t lying before when he said he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you. More often than not when you spar, you end up fucking on the floor. He’s never more beautiful than when his dark eyes glitter with anticipation of the hunt; you’ve learned a lot, but you know you stand zero chance against him.

Maybe it’s not fair, when he loses patience and uses his experience and his size to put you down on the ground, sweeping your legs or twisting your arm behind you while he pulls down your leggings, baring your ass to the room. But he finds you soaking wet every time he claims his prize, guiding himself inside you, your growls quickly turning to moans for the way he fills you up and takes you down. “I fucking love it when you fight me,” he admits breathlessly, thrusting until you both cum loudly, your face pressed into the rubber floor.

It’s a game you love to lose.

***

Winter starts to thaw, and you have cabin fever, ready to go outside. John is engrossed in a binding project: you finished your illustrations, and now he seems just as engaged in his side of the collaboration as you were yours. You find him smiling at a rendition of Dog as Cerberus with three heads when you pop into his workshop. “Want to go for a hike?”

He looks around at the mess he’s made on his worktable. “I’m not at a good stopping point,” he admits, and you understand that perfectly well. “You can go, just don’t be gone too long, alright?”

He could have pushed you over with a feather, you are so surprised to receive this clearance for a solo trek.

You kiss him on the cheek in thanks. “I’ll be back soon,” you promise, still hardly able to believe your luck.

“Y/n?” he calls as you’re at the door. “Take Dog?”

“I’m going too far for him.” Long walks hurt his paws.

“Then take your pistol.” You nod before disappearing up the stairs. Once upon a time, the thought of going around casually armed would have seemed like pure insanity to you. Now it’s simply a fact of life. You don’t have an official license for concealed carry, but after your intensive training at the Continental you feel perfectly confident that you won’t shoot anyone–unless you mean to. You live in John’s world now: survive first, worry about getting caught later…and pay off the appropriate officials if you have to.

That’s just the thug life, you suppose.

The air outside is crisp and fresh, leaves and pine needles perfuming the woods in a way that intoxicates you more than any man-made scent. You take off down the trail at a brisk pace, feeling like you have wings on your feet. Knowing you could walk for miles and miles in this mood, you set a timer on your phone so you don’t forget yourself. Scaring John after he’s given you this confidence will not bode well for the future. Once upon a time such a leash would have chafed, but now you understand so much better what his fears are rooted in. You’ve peered into the darkness behind the curtain; there’s no going back.

It’s the middle of the day in the middle of the week and you haven’t seen a soul, and on such a fine day as this, it is easy to forget that there’s a bustling, seething world of human strife out there. Or so you imagine, as you are sitting on the outcrop of your favorite overlook, your feet dangling out over oblivion. Yet, when you think you hear voices coming up the trail a sudden instinct kicks in to hide, to avoid being seen. Without really even thinking about it you tip yourself off the ledge, grabbing a branch of an ancient tree growing out of the rocks to break your fall, and dropping down to conceal yourself flat upon a narrow ledge.

“Dude, where’d she go?” you hear from above, your heart pounding in your chest, the blocky hardness of your little Beretta pressing into the small of your back as you lean against the stone face of the cliff a reassuring comfort. You realize then that John is not the only one with a residual paranoia from your misadventures. As you listen to the obviously harmless hikers above, you feel utterly ridiculous, and you wait for them to go so that you can make your way back in peace.

Maybe it’s good to be alert, but at what point does one just have to get on with one’s life? If you live like a paranoid little rat scurrying around out of sight, then Dante has won in a different way. You think about this a lot, as you make your way home up the mountain.

***

Perhaps it’s fitting, that with the renewal of spring all around you, John finishes the binding of your book. He calls you into the basement to inspect his workmanship, standing behind you as you behold the finished tome. The cover is embossed black leather with gold leaf. There is no title, just a design of an upturned skull grown through with blooming narcissus flowers. Slowly, you flip through the pages, enchanted with how he transformed your loose paintings into something so refined.

“I love it,” you tell him, caressing a page bearing his likeness, the God of Death embracing his consort (that may bear a passing resemblance to you) in a Klimt-esque kiss. He nuzzles into your neck, kissing behind your ear. “But you didn’t sign it,” you complain, noting the lack of his usual This Book was Bound by John Wick plate.

“I thought…we could do it together, as a wedding present?” he offers. You realize he means signing it with your joined name, and maybe it’s silly, but the thought makes your belly erupt into butterflies. You haven’t really talked about the wedding much. Though you wear the ring happily, he hasn’t really mentioned it at all, giving you space or otherwise occupied, you’re not entirely sure.

“I would love that,” you agree, tilting your head for a kiss. His fingers dig into your hips as it deepens, a low moan called up from his throat.

“Have you thought about what you might like?” he asks, kissing your neck again, his hands slipping under your shirt.

“I don’t want anything fancy,” you admit breathlessly. “All I want is you.” You find the thought of bringing your dysfunctional family together in celebration only inspires anxiety. You have no lasting affiliations with any church–you do not feel the need to seek any god’s blessing of your union. You find you are just ready for it to be so.

You feel him pause behind you, letting out a shuddering sigh. You wonder if he’s thinking about the journey you’ve taken, to get where you are today, together. You certainly are, looking at your book, and the allegory it tells of your tumultuous courtship. It wasn’t easy, and you can’t say anything so trite as you knew it would turn out–but you realize you did have the naivety to hope. For once…maybe your forgiving nature has finally paid off for you. You feel like you’ve been living in a halcyon daze, you are so happy. You hope it never changes, even if deep down you know it will.

Change is the only certainty we’re ever afforded.

“Surely you want something nicer than a trip to the courthouse,” he pries, certain there’s something you’re not telling him. You do still feel embarrassed sometimes, about spending his money on things, even though he gives you free reign with unparallelled generosity.

“I really don't want a big ceremony,” you assure him. “But…would you like it, if Winston married us?”

John huffs behind you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “I'm not sure that's something he does.”

You giggle at the thought, and you can tell John at least likes the idea of his father figure–one of his few remaining friends, being there. And, you like Winston too. “I bet he’d do it for you, John.”

“Hmm. We’ll think on that.”

It’s not a no.

“You know what I do want?” you pose, turning a page of your new book.This illustration is a rather explicit one, Death kneeling at her feet with his face buried in her pussy, her back bowed in sweet agony, the dark waters of the river Styx glittering behind them. He offered her the most exquisite pleasures, but withheld release unless she agreed to be his forever. Though deep in her heart she knew she loved him immeasurably, still she refused.

Neither John nor you are immune to the effect of perusing this pornographic work together; his long fingers dip into the waistband of your jeans, his fingertips just nearly caressing your mound.

“Anything,” he tells you, nibbling at your ear. It takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about, your clit throbbing in answer to his seeking fingers and his other hand up your shirt. As a result your answer comes in breathy bursts.

“I want…to go on an adventure with you. A long honeymoon,” you tell him, writhing against him as his hand finds your breast, toying with the taut peak of your nipple. You know he likes to travel as much as you do. Wouldn’t it be novel to go somewhere and not even need to assassinate someone in the interim?

You feel him chuckle behind you, more than hear it. “I might have guessed. Where do you want to go?” He asks you this while his fingers tease your curls, so close to touching you where you need him most. You are past shame, when your voice cracks.

“Where can we go?” You assume most of Europe is off the table these days.

“Hmm. You still have a yen for South America?”

You nod, and he laughs again, though he catches your mouth in a tooth-counting kiss before you can answer–ie defend yourself from the usual allegations. At last his middle finger dips into your wet slit, and the sound of relief that escapes you is barely human.

“Young lady…” he growls, nipping at your ear. “This is quite a dirty little book you’ve drawn. Do you know how many times I had to come find you while I was working on this?” You moan as he swipes up your juices, finally circling your clit as his other hand dips into your bra. You feel his erection straining against the curve of your bottom; you press yourself back against him, wanting what’s yours. Your answer is part laughter, part moan–for the umpteenth time, you feel like life is perfect with this man.

“Probably as often as I had to come find you while drawing it,” you answer cheekily, arching back to hold his neck, opening yourself completely to him. Your knees threaten to buckle as he touches you, but soon you find yourself bent over his table, his corded forearms braced like columns on either side of you as he fucks you silly amidst the smell of old books, leather, and binding glue.

It really doesn’t get any better than this.

***

When warmer weather comes you start to take out the bikes again. After a few outings you feel sufficiently refreshed, and more than ready to take your test. You make your appointment for next week, and you feel like a teenager again, full of nervous energy for the impending exam. John finds this amusing. “You can ride, sweetheart. And if you fail, you can just take it again.”

But the perfectionist academic in you wants to ace it on the first go. When you express the desire to go for a practice ride while John is working on a new project he nods, not even looking up from his worktable. “Be careful.”

“Take your pistol. I know,” you tease. This has become a broken record between you two–remembering a time when he wouldn’t have dreamed of letting you out of his sight, you do not mind. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, before letting you off with that slight smile that still squeezes your heart in your chest.

You gear up in your kevlar jeans, boots and jacket, gloves and helmet. Concealed carry is ridiculously easy, with such bulk about you. You feel a bit like a commando, every time you put on the jacket with its armored panels. You fire up the Kawasaki and potter down the driveway. You like this bike, it’s been great to learn on, but John has been teasing you about an upgrade if you’re a good girl.

Considering you feel where he’s been inside you every time you sit down, you’re pretty sure you’re meeting the requirements. You think about this with a smile as you hit a straightaway, and let the machine open up beneath you.

It really is the closest you can get to flying on the ground.

Exhilarated, maybe even feeling a little cocky, you make your loop of the mountain roads and then decide to make a quick stop down in town. You’ve worn out your three favorite paint brushes, the chisel tip, the angle shader, and the tiny 3/0 you favor for small details. Mr. Morton will get you squared away.

You park in the lot behind the art store, and carry your helmet inside. You don’t dally long, even though the smell of oil paint and linseed oil inside the little store is a marvelous thing. You chat with Mr. Morton, pet the shop cat, and tuck your score into your inside pocket before walking back out to the parking lot.

It’s totally cliché, but the rest goes by in a blur.

A black SUV rolls up beside you, screeching on its brakes, a man jumping out of the backseat making a B line for you. Too late, you realize your rookie mistake. Your jacket is zipped up to your chin–you can’t draw your pistol under your arm in time. But you have your helmet in your hand, and without hesitation, you introduce it to his face as hard as you can.

“At least offer a girl some candy first, asshole!”

The driver spills out next, cursing and trying to grab you, dodging your second swing with the helmet. You side-step him, but he manages to snag your jacket. Rather than pull against his hold you let him drag you to him, meeting his groin dead-on with your knee. As he crumples you hit him in the face with your armored elbow, and run for your bike while shoving your helmet onto your head.

Maybe you should have run back to the shop, to the thoroughfare, to the safety of witnesses. But all you can think in that moment is that John might need you. You have a terrible feeling that something bad could be happening at home, and so you start your bike and tear off faster and more recklessly than you ever have before. The handlebars wobble in your haste but you manage to get a hold of the machine, concentrating on working the clutch and the gears to pick up speed as fast as you can. If you look back, you know you’ll crash. You run a stop sign, veering around a car by the skin of your teeth, leaving the sound of screeching wheels and honking horns behind you.

Out of town, you drop a gear and take off like a rocket up the mountain, passing cars where you definitely shouldn’t. I’m coming, John. Maybe it’s ridiculous. How much help could you possibly be to John Wick? But you won’t rest until you set eyes on him again.

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised, when the G Wagon roars up next to you again. In your peripheral you see the passenger in the window, his extended arm, the blocky black shape of a gun. They veer at you, trying to run you off the road. You brake the bike, letting them whip past you, nearly going off the pavement themselves in the confusion. You decide to turn off onto a sideroad, a winding death-trap of a paved goat trail that you know like the back of your hand, though you’ve never ridden it before, only drove. You hope you’ll lose them in the snarl of tight curves. It will take longer to get home, but if worse comes to worse maybe you can abandon the bike and lose them in the trees.

Home turf advantage, you tell yourself, not entirely convinced. These guys mean business–and you’re fairly sure the driver’s accent was Italian.

You don’t really hear it past the roar of your engine and your heartbeat in your ears, when they come up behind you. You do hear the shot, and you flinch, ducking low to make yourself a smaller target. But he wasn’t aiming for you.

He was aiming for your tire, and when it blows the bike goes wild–and you really get to experience flying.

It’s almost exhilarating, sailing through the air, until you hit the pavement hard, skidding across the unforgiving asphalt, rolling to take some of the momentum. You lay there on the tarmac, alive, but completely stunned. You tell yourself to get up–but your body doesn’t listen. You see the shadow of a man over you. It’s Helmet Man–his face is a mask of blood; it looks like you broke his nose, and he’s pissed about it.

He kicks you in the side before shoving a needle through your jeans, into the meat of your butt. On the verge of puking in your helmet, the world swims, then goes black.

------------

*author's note: Full credit to @discoscoob for suggesting that Winston should officiate, I love it, you're brilliant! 😘 And the yoga scene is totally @treedaddymcpuffpuff 's fault. I love our unhinged conversations boo 🤣 The Brain Rot would not be so strong or so FUN without you!❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ :)))))))))))))))))

**maybe i should also add that certain eXplicit panels in the BRZRKR Bloodlines comic inspired a great deal of this dumpster fire 🥵🤣🤣, y'all should definitely check it out, the artwork is great!

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all chapters

#a long chappy to sink your teeth into #i was thinking about you nonnie while writing this and i hope you're feeling better #and a huge thank you to everyone who's commented and messaged me about this fic #you've kept me going like you have no idea 🖤🖤#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #john wick x y/n #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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rubberbutton · 2 days ago

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So, I have this wacky Javert & Cosette detective agency AU idea that I’ll probably never write…

Post-Seine Javert starts a private detective agency — reuniting loved ones, shutting down extortion rackets, stopping forced marriages, things like that. He doesn’t make any money because he fails to collect payment on the rare occasion he’s not working pro bono. [Very Angel Investigations, sans vampires … unless?] The work is both penance and its own reward.

Bored of social calls and society dinners, Cosette decides to help him in his work. Javert refuses her, but she keeps showing up. She proves herself useful, as no one ever suspects her of being a double agent, she’s clever, and she can cry on command — which is an incredibly effective distraction. Since Paris’s underworld is already familiar with him from his previous profession, Javert has had difficulty making progress on some of his cases. But Cosette is entirely unknown. Grudgingly, he allows her to help on his smallest, safest, most respectable cases. Which rapidly escalates into her running the place. He’s really not an ideas man.

There are capers! Escapades! Daring rescues! A heart-warming Christmas episode!

Valjean and Marius are given to believe that Cosette’s time is spent volunteering with ladies aid societies. When the truth comes out, Valjean is apoplectic, and it’s the first real risk to his relationship with Javert (well, post Seine, haha), especially when Javert makes it Cosette’s choice whether to continue. Marius’s anger burns out much quicker; that boy is nothing if not easily led.

Meanwhile, Montparnasse has filled the leadership vacuum left by Thénardier and has made great inroads in the Parisian organized crime scene. With Javert foiling many of his more lucrative business interests, Montparnasse decides it’s time to deal with with him more permanently...

Other odds and ends for this ‘verse:

Javert accidentally adopts some urchins when he attempts to cultivate them as informants, but they keep showing up like stray cats when they realize he’ll feed them.

Having heard it in her tenderest years, Cosette quickly picks up the accent and argot of the street and becomes a mistress of disguise.

She also purchases an umbrella with a stiletto hidden in the handle, which she mostly uses to underline her better rhetorical flourishes.

Whilst Javert is not an easy man to like, Cosette appreciates his honesty. Granted, that honesty is couched in the most pessimistic, condescending and insulting way imaginable. But after her father and her husband gaslighting her for years, it’s a relief to not second guess the information someone gives her.

They both appreciate having someone to commiserate about Jean Valjean’s idiosyncrasies with. “You know the way he clears his throat when he disapproves, but won’t say he disapproves — and if you ask him if he disapproves, he’ll deny it?” “I know it very well!”

After Jean Valjean is finished being furious, he moves right on into being jealous. He wanted them to get along, but not quite this well. He of course would rather eat glass than admit it.

Also, as many of les amis survive as I can reasonably get away with. Definitely Courfeyrac, because I like him. Probably Bahorel, in case they need some additional muscle when working a case. And Joly because they’d need someone with a medical background to identify the cause of death/provide medical aid. Also no one should die with a cold, talk about insult to injury.

Anyhoo. Everybody lives happily ever after with a gentle ’90s TV glow. Fuck you, Victor-Marie Hugo.

#I just think Cosette & Javert would be a very interesting dynamic #cosette #javert #les miserables #les mis

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bucksboobs · 3 days ago

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don´t know if Tim is harsh in how he talks about bucktommy but I think they were caught of guard by the reaction to the break up and I think Tim could just dislike the implicit critisicm of his work here. OS might resent that this arc is not exclusively seen through the lens of Bucks sexuality but he can thank Tim for that as well. Becasue Tim did not make it an issue on the show at all other than Buck being attracted specifically to Tommy. It was never talked about outside that context. Maybe they also thought the Abby thing would be a bigger deal than it was? Or that people, other than Buddies, would welcome the break up because of it? But it was a cheap stunt and had, in the end, no effect on Buck and Tommy and why they broke up so why should anybody care?

It had literally no bearing on why they broke up except as a catalyst for Buck to move too fast and that to scare Tommy off but Tim has said it was abrupt by design so maybe he’s got something in mind for fixing that abruptness (or maybe he’s covering his ass) but regardless of their intentions, the breakup episode is very disjointed in how it plays out: they set up better reasons for a breakup in Buck being disappointed in Tommy’s treatment of Abby (and then resolve it with a speech from Josh) or in Tommy being weird about women being attracted to Buck and Buck being weird about acknowledging that he still is attracted to women (but God Forbid the bi arc about Buck actually acknowledges that he’s bi) and instead they chose to have the breakup be about them not being on the same page about their relationship (which has its own problems), which is an easily resolvable problem. The fact they’ve managed to stretch it out over 3 episodes to limp it over the finish line of the mid season should give me hope but I wonder if maybe that’s because they’re too cowardly to just shut the door already.

Other people have suggested that maybe the upcoming Buckley Family Drama that’s being teased by Tim is actually Maddie moving away for a little while (again) and they couldn’t write Buck spiraling from abandonment issues if Tommy was around to catch him and that seems plausible but honestly I don’t know that he’s planned that far ahead anymore.

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midnight1nk · 2 days ago

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So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

WOW, a Mario Reacts! It's been a long time, hasn't it? Hell yeah, I can work with this!

(no bc seriously, I just finished watching ep. 7 of Arcane before this and I need an emotional break, yeah I know the rest of Act 3 is gonna kill me)

(the following is my live reaction:)

oh hey, Mario! Wassup?

jigsaw, is that you?

oh nvm, hello Swag! nice to see you again since last episode

I'm about to commit a crime [*strikes a pose then walks away*]

I'm willing to work in a government office just so I can come up with an acronym like, gee idk, Y.U.R.I. or something (I should've been a worker in NASA)

NO STOP STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?!

At this point, Mario, I would just give up

[*clears throat*] mejor me muero, ni modo que sigo con estos porquerías. bueno como dice Mario, bye bye [*drinks some water*] alright I'm back

TADC? ah, just a normal Saturday

no thoughts, head empty

honestly, mood

well, in his own way, yeah

[*echoes announcer voice*] VR, the new era of entertainment

...mr puzzles? nah jk jk

oh, Four's theory may not be wrong here (omg it's jesus)

still can't believe christianity is canon in the SMG4 universe

oh, so I was right! [*jigsaw voice*] "I wanna play a game."

That's actually kinda sweet that he immediately chooses his brother

OH SHIT OOOOH that's gotta hurt

NO MARIO, THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME

[*other me pops in*] emo girlfriend, omg it's smg3

no, we're NOT gonna look too much into this, shut up other me

PPFFFTTT that caught me so off guard

say it with me now: YOU CAN'T CONTROL MARIO [*applause*]

I mean, we've been through simulations before, we can take this one too

unironically, I wouldn't mind a 10-hour video of just Mario (and/or the rest of the Crew) just dancing :)

it doesn't even need to have music, I can just put my playlist on and I would totally join in

ooooh, you want to scan that QR code so badly

but also, how did they get a screenshot of my computer?

Mario 🤝 Mario Buddy from the last episode → destroying PCs for the LOLs

AKLDHLKSAFB;KL just the way Mario goes for a fighting stance just so he could run away will never not be funny to me

LET ME IN LET ME INNNNNNNNN

10 hours, welp I got my wish lmao

Mario morphing his face... hmmmm..... [*flashback noises*]

[SMG4: MAR10 Day]

....

don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it

KIRBO NOOOOOOOOO

NO NO NO SWAG NO

same vibes

meme factory? youtube arc? is that you? /j

(yeah I know that the Team uses the same assets ik)

LET'S DO THISSSS oh welp time to vibe

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

what would that be, Swag? Try not to Laugh challenge? I might win tbh

LET'S GO GAMBLING

laughing because of early victory call? very in character for Swag

oooh that's some good animation (y'know, as always)

HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE

am i thinking too much into this or is this the same military base from last episode?

Alright, my little headcanon: the events of this episode and the last one took place on the exact same day

that's just for me specifically

oh hey, more TADC ref

Also, nice PINGAS STUCK IN A DOOR ref

man Mario can't catch a break dude

Congrats to CMorseu for your art being featured at the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Such a good episode! Not plot-heavy, just a silly episode. I'll gladly take it as my late birthday present. And it's great to have Swag back, kinda was half-expecting Chris to just pop out.

I've said this once and I'll say it again: I wouldn't mind if the rest of the year is just filled with goofy episodes. After all, we just came from WOTFI and we do need a bit of a break so the Team could work on the next arc. (From the looks of things, we might get goop!4 *cough cough*)

Loved the bits of animation and Mario's expressions as always.

Now, I know there is some talk about the SMG4 Crew/Mario Does Things being on hiatus and merging with the Saturday videos. If you can even call it that. Personally, I don't mind it. I completely understand if doing 2 episodes per week is a lot for the Team to handle, though I do wish they would give an explanation for it. I think the best solution would be for the Team making an announcement of the change, the reasons behind it, and how it may be different from the regular Saturday episodes. Also make it clear that "hey, the title says this so it doesn't impact the main storyline".

Anyway, it has been overall a pretty funny episode and I quite enjoyed it! Now, if you excuse me, I'm gonna cry my eyes out watching the rest of Arcane Act 3 and bring that angst to the next episode concept :)

OH THE MISERY EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE MY ENEMYYYYYYY

#smg4 #smg4 mario #smg4 swag #ink reviews #and no i'm never gonna forget the I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE scene

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fyeahnix · 2 days ago

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Ok lemme talk about this season of Arcane, the ending, and most importantly, Sevika. If you don't want spoilers, back away now but I'm leaving this open because people have a tendency to not open or read my posts with read more cuts after them 🙃

[SPOILERS BELOW]

First off, I will say that I like Arcane a lot. Like a LOT. I've watched the first season 4 times (rarely do I watch anything more than once) and I think it's a masterclass in adult animation. Fortiche really put everything into this series.

That being said...

While I did like season 2, I don't think it was enough. Animation wise it was phenomenal, writing wise...I think it could have been better. As I've learned through doing research for my Sevika fics, the League of Legends universe, lore, and worldbuilding is fucking MASSIVE and even if I don't give two shits about that community or game, I have to give it props in that department because they really put a ton of work into it to make it feel alive. Maps? Short stories? Timelines? Race and culture? Apex could never...

That ofc is why it's hard for me to say that the writing is amazing. We had far too many characters to keep track of in season 2 with far too many plot threads to finish in two seasons. I think ideally, this series should have been 3 seasons instead of 2. Acts 1 and 2 could have been its own season, and Act 3 could have been its own season. If not that, then at least one more episode per act would have helped a lot. Things just progressed and wrapped up far too quickly for my liking.

Also not a huge fan of how quickly video game related media tends to dip into the whole timeline and multidimensional business. It def works well for some games but here? Idk I guess it was bound to happen given some League character's abilities, but the stakes just elevated far too quickly for me. Not a fan of Viktor becoming one of the main antagonists at all, and DEFINITELY not a fan of the conflict between Piltover and Zaun being sidelined for an "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing with the war against the Noxians. It makes sense, I just wish "war with the Noxians" came at a later date so we could focus on the twin cities.

And speaking of the generational conflict between Piltover and Zaun, let's talk about Sevika.

As I said before, Sevika is the most qualified person to become the leader of Zaun and I stand by that even after the ending. But first....what about her found family? Isha sacrificed herself and Sevika gets no on-screen reaction? The last two episodes just progressed SOOOO FAST that we and some of the characters didn't even have time to breathe. Did Sevika even get time to mourn for Isha? What about Jinx, who is now gone? Sevika barely even encountered Vander! I would have loved to see some of the aftermath there because I think season 1 did a better job of allowing characters time to process their emotions and grief, even if the pacing was still kinda fast. It was acceptable!

I am sad af she didn't get more lines, but remember, Sevika has always been a side character in this series. An important side character but a side character no less. The promo shot of her now feels like...what was the point? (more on that in a sec) but considering how many characters and plot points and plot threads they had to account for, I am not surprised she didn't get more screen time. Hell, Vi and Caitlyn didn't even get a chance to have a full conversation on eveything that happened and Caitlyn didn't even apologize on screen. The fuck bro.

Now about Sevika's ending....I am very happy she isn't dead. Like dawg, you have no fucking idea how happy I am about it. SHE FUCKING LIVED. But....

I am seeing some people saying they're not happy or they're confused or that her ending doesn't make sense. And I just disagree with those points. Let me explain why.

I posted something earlier today about it, but again, as people don't open my read mores, I'll repost it here:

We absolutely do not know how much time passed between the war and the final few shots of the season. So Sevika joins the council. I DO NOT THINK she would do this unless there's a good reason for it, and that's why I'm guessing she will be Zaun's ambassador on the council. That war probably significantly changed the relationship between Piltover and Zaun and while old wounds will take more than a fucking war to heal, her being on the council now means she directly has a say in Zaun's future. Remember, the council was literally about to hand Zaun their independence before Jinx blew it up, and Mel was in support of it. As I said before, Sevika is respected down there at a bare minimum with all the factions. She would know better than anyone how to lead Zaun at this point. So yeah I get the hesitation, but it makes sense in my eyes. And it makes it likely that Sevika could show up again in a future League animation, if not become a whole champion.

I like her ending. I am sorry but it just makes fucking sense. Sevika is extremely loyal to her home and her people of Zaun. We've seen that time and time again. She was willing to go to war and die for those people not just against Piltover but also the Noxians, so why on fucking earth would anyone believe she's making a bad choice here?

She is now in the best possible position anyone in Zaun could be to advocate for their independence and support their growth. She knows the chem barons and brought them to peace, she gained the respect of the Firelights with Scar leading them in Ekko's absence, and she even got the Jinxers together with them before the Noxian attack on Zaun. Sevika has experience, she has the ear of the people, she knows what it's like down there, she is made to lead and help advocate for them!!!!

Believe me I get that whole "changing things from the inside" angle doesn't work more often than not, but this doesn't feel like "changing from the inside," it feels like "let me advocate for my people's actual independence so we have a starting point to become self sufficient." Again, Piltover was literally about to let Zaun gain their independence, and while none of the previous council members that agreed to it are there, Mel is/was. Who's to say she didn't help negotiate for Sevika to sit on the council and start (or complete!) the Zaun independence process before she left for Noxus? I can't imagine Sevika would just show up to the table and sit there if she didn't have a damn good reason. Like come on now. This woman has seen first-hand what Piltover is capable of and does not like them nor looks like she wants to be there. But she's seen what Piltover has done to her people first-hand, and after learning from both Vander and Silco, this is how she feels she can best protect her people.

She IS the new leader of Zaun and their ambassador at the council.

And lastly, we've been told that some characters will be returning in future League animations. Mel seems like an absolute given, but what about Sevika? Zaun's story is only just beginning, and yeah they said they'd like to branch out to other regions, that doesn't mean a cameo or maybe another medium can't be used to continue that story (a book, perhaps??).

Anyway yeah those are my thoughts...

#Arcane #Sevika #Arcane spoilers #spoilers #spoiler

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mypillowpaper · 2 days ago

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🡻VENT

Hello, this is going to be a rather sad kind of message, the first time I have to talk about a client with such a bitter perspective for me.

Clients are always a reason to celebrate, with many I have developed super long conversations, others have seen me grow on social networks and I have seen them get married, have children or change their lives little by little just like me.

In my community I am always happy to have good experiences with my clients, because even the few times I have not agreed with something, everything has been able to be discussed and come to a good end.

I have been in contact with all kinds of personalities and moods, both my own and those of others, for a long time and I know how to work with that.

Today was not like that. Today I had to deal with something completely different

I had to talk to a person with whom I had accepted a commission 2 years ago, and the last contact or response I had was in March 2023 -1 year and 7 months-

As we are all strangers on the internet and life can sometimes be very fucked up, I clearly did not make any claim and celebrated they return.

Fortunately I saved they files, and I say this because many artists after a certain period of time close them, send them to avoid legal problems or exactly what just happened to me.

I never added such clauses because i have had 2 cases like that and nothing bad has happened (although never for so long)

But with today I think it was quite naive on my part, because this person began to ask me for changes on a work that had been left with the base coloring, and the lineart already finished.

I agreed to change simple things but I also warned that I was not going to accept more changes that had to do with the pose. Not only because of all the time it took (you can change your tastes, and if you liked something before, and now you don't) but it is unfair to me, to my time and my current pending work.

So I limited the changes to the color section, no different from when other clients ask me for changes once the lineart is finished and accepted.

The person first accepted, then deleted the message and asked me for a refund for the commission, since they was not satisfied with my service .

The truth is that I was quite broken down. Because I had never had or experienced those emotions linked to a client.For me it is something incompatible.

But clearly I am not going to do it, my TOS are clear with the no refunds and the situation is clearly cynical, I have plenty of reasons and explanations as to why, but i dont have the objective of humiliating anyone or generate hatred.

That's why I'm not giving names, I'm not giving pictures or anything. I just want to vent because I feel completely discouraged, because I didn't expect a right hook like that. And it's a bittersweet feeling, and finally I hit the wall after 7 years of work.

It's very easy to show up after almost 2 years and ask for a refund when the work is almost finished, and claim that you're not happy with the results.

But being nice doesn't mean I'm going to allow something like that.

So I'm going to rewrite my TOS to make the same clause as my colleagues, and I'm going to keep this low key and private.

My colleagues will know about name and screenshots, because it's important to be careful with these things. But for the rest, it's not fun for me to start any carnage.

I understand the misunderstanding, I can imagine what this person felt when I set a limit (most people don't like it, it's a bitter pill to swallow) but it's also necessary and it's true that during these 7 years, many people have responded well to it and have even given me excellent treatment or negotiated with me.

I have witnessed at least 200 responses much better than the one I had to read today, so I am able to know, perfectly, that nothing that happened was fair. And that it could have gone better if they hadn't demanded things that way, and in a situation where their actions were not supported.

I know this is different, but my head is now like a pressure cooker, and I needed to let it out, to let it go.

Thank you all, for having accustomed me to such nice treatment, that although today I felt naive, I also felt very lucky to have you to have a bar with which to measure correctly.

A huge hug, from your favorite Pillow.

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femhiccy · 1 day ago

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ARCANE SESON 2 ACT 3 SPOILERS!!!!

SPOILERS!!! LAST WARNING!!!

Seven things I can't stop thinking about after seson 2

Most of them are about Viktor because he is my favorite character, and I relate to him so bad ...

1. The parallel between Jinx and Viktor...

Inventors with potential

Both wanted good but end up making fucking disaster

Both turned against their loved ones

Both sacrifice at the end ( we don't know if they are dead, but...)

2. No one in their world would be ever know about this

3. Fucking jayvik butterfly

4. The another will in Jace, what Viktor was talking about in act two, was his own... it was Viktor's will....

5. Viktor wearing Jayce blanket... The blanket he gave him in Act 1, he made from it outfit in Act 2 because it's all that left him after Jayce... and he wore it in his final form after Jayce literally killed him... he is so not over him...

6 Viktor giving up, losing everything

They broke him completely that he lost himself, he didn't really work with ambessa he more use them to get what he wanted becouse then he takes control on her warriors too...all he wanted was better world for everyone, he just lose control on his dream, he was blinded... how the fuck he end up like this.... he was in shook when Jayce show him the true, he realized what he doing.. that it is far away from doing good.... he was so kind, good and ambitious men in the beginning... and he still was at the end, deep inside him, and Jayce found it....

7. " But you were never broken, Viktor.... There is beauty in imperfections, they made you who you are "

That line, just burned out into my heart...

I feel like failure whole my life... like I don't deserve love or anything... I feel like... I just so needed to hear that...

I am actually NOT OKAY....

But...

You know, the show is good if it changes your perspective of the world. Viktor and Jayce just improved my perception of word love. No kiss was needed, no s*x scenes and stuff, without it, I can feel their love...

I loved Viktor's character from the very beginning till the very end.. is he perfect ? No. Do I support all his actions ? No. But I can feel that men, I can understand him, and I feel like he would understand me

The only character I relate to more now is Hiccup...( but I relete to him since I was 15 years old so.. ) but Viktor done impossible he gets close to him.. to me....

The show was fucking amazing and I don't know if I finished it or it finished me ...

Music was a masterpiece. the show isn't perfect, but it's really, really good, in my opinion.

This and HTTYD gonna be my favorite movies/series till the day I die...

If arcane or httyd have 0 fans, i am dead ...

What a show....

Who will pay for my therapy....

#viktor #viktor and jinx #viktor and jayce #viktor arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane series #arcane music #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 spoilers #jayvik #what a show..#i am in love #jayce arcane #jayce talis #jinx arcane #arcane s2 act3 #act 3 spoilers

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ssivinee · 1 day ago

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❥ 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎

ITZY! Racer! Shin Ryujin x F reader x tripleS! Racer! Park Sohyun: After the awkward encounter, you try to avoid the two women, but to your luck, it fails while you're out with your best friend. This seems to work more in your favor, helping your heart get to the finish line.

Word Count: 7.1 k

Author's Note: This is part two of Racing Hearts! I suggest you read part 1 for more background. YOU GUYS HAVE ALSO SPOKEN AND CHOSEN WHO TO END UP WITH, SO KEEP THAT IN MIND😭! ⚠️excessive language is used here⚠️

➳ Character Concept - Jeon Y/n

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

It was a Saturday morning, which meant short work hours at your brother's mechanic shop. You were currently working on a 2005 Honda Civic for an elderly man who brought it in early in the morning.

Since the last time you saw Ryujin and Sohyun, you practically buried yourself in work, doing your best to avoid any interaction with them.

The race was three weeks ago, and that tension… just had you feeling super anxious about it all. You didn’t want to become the wedge between the two girls, but you couldn’t help but perceive it that way. They basically had a standoff before you left, so of course, it felt heavy to you.

“You’ve been staring at the engine for, like, fifteen minutes, Y/n,” your older brother said as he looked at his watch. “How bout’ you don’t time me and focus on that paperwork?” You ask playfully, but your brother wasn’t having any of it at the moment. “Y/n,” you hear Wonwoo’s stern voice call out, and you sigh, shoulders lowering in defeat.

“Yes?” You turn around, trying to show the most innocent face possible, which had him rolling his eyes hard. “What’s up with you? Since that day, you’ve been staying at the shop late, spacing out, and not even taking time for yourself?”

You were just at a loss for words, sitting in the chair before him. “I- I don’t even know, myself.”

“Did you enjoy the race with Cheuksin?” He asked with a worried expression on his face. You furiously shake your hands, “I enjoyed it! That just… isn’t the problem.” Wonwoo’s face softened at hearing you sound tired. “So what is it then?” “I really liked racing with them. It felt new and fresh. I just felt so free again,” as you spoke, a cheesy grin formed on your face, causing your brother to be even more curious as to what was puzzling your mind. “It’s Sohyun and Ryujin.”

You tried ending it there, but as you lifted up your head to find your brother's face, it clearly said, ‘Well, elaborate,’ despite no words coming out of his mouth. You sigh again, “When I won the race, the two just felt like… they were declaring they’d fight for me? I don’t even know at this point. I just wouldn’t want to break a friendship, you know?”

“You can’t exactly help how you feel, Y/n. You're only human too. Besides, if their bond is great, your choice wouldn’t get in the way of that,” he explains, trying to be a good older brother and your voice of reason. Yet, hearing that only stressed you out even more. You lift your hands abruptly in defeat as they fall straight down to your sides, “That’s the thing! I don’t know who to choose. I literally met them a month ago, oppa. Also, adding onto the fact that I broke up with Shuhua on the same night we met.”

Now that Wonwoo was seeing the stress on your face, he never liked seeing you like that. It was always a rare occurrence, and when it did happen, Wonwoo always did his best to cheer you up.

You are his little sister and practically his only family left. When both your parents basically left, he swore he’d protect you, even with love problems like this.

“How bout’ this? You take a day off tomorrow and on Monday. Then, you can hang out with Isa, go shopping, race, and go out of town. Literally anything other than work right now,” you look at him like he’s crazy at the suggestion. “But you’ll be alone, and the store is gonna be bu-”

“You know I’m not taking no for an answer, so,” he shrugs, walking away from you to return to his office. You groan and admit defeat as you head back to working on your car, mumbling, “Yeah, I know.”

Since Wonwoo was doing his best not to hear you argue with him, he let you finish up your work for the rest of the day. As hours passed, it was nighttime, and to avoid you staying longer, Wonwoo turned off the garage lights and locked the door that kept the light switches.

“REALLY?!” You yell as he waves, walking out the door. “Get your stuff and lock up! Thanks!” His grin made you want to slap his face, but you knew your brother had good intentions. So, without wasting another thought in the dark space, you went to your locker, got your belongings out, turned off the lights, locked the store, and drove home.

The ten-minute car ride was quick, as it was late and fewer vehicles were on the road. Once you entered your humble abode, you changed into your slippers and walked sluggishly to your room. As you entered your safe space, you dropped your bag onto the floor and fell onto your bed, not wanting to think about anything anymore.

Your brother gave you a day off, and you didn’t know what to do with it at this point.

You just decided to take a brisk hot shower and lay in bed afterward, scrolling through your phone. As you looked through your social media, you saw Sohyun had posted a new photo. Seeing no harm in it, you decided to look, not knowing what to expect.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

When looking at Sohyun’s feed, it was quite calm, with aspects of her daily life shown. So the selfie of her in a short strapless bodycon dress at a party with her hair tousled out of place was not something you were expecting.

She looked like she was dancing in the picture, a red solo cup in one hand. Her lips in a smirk, and her eyes were squinting, looking as if they were seducing you into a trap. Added with the effect of purple and blue party lights raining down on her head, she had you almost drooling instantly.

Your eyes travel down to the caption, ‘At a party with so many people, but only looking for you.’

That just caused you to turn your phone off and slam it down on the bed. You could just grip your hair with how crazy reading that made you feel. The photo put your brain in a frenzy, so you just had to put yourself in a harder position, huh? You wanted to hit yourself, but try to think of a different way to spend your days off instead to keep your mind off it.

You could do anything, but it was like your brain was on low-power mode.

It was as if on time, a notification pinged your phone, and when you looked, it was Isa asking if you were free to go shopping with her tomorrow. You mentally praised her and responded with what your brain cells could handle at the moment.

YES, you’re a literal lifesaver right now, Isa.

It was the next day, and you and Isa were already out at the shopping plaza two bags each in hand. “Lord, I legit needed this day off today,” Isa tells you, extremely happy with the free time she was given after so many days of work at the cafe. “You literally own the cafe. Can’t you get a day off whenever you want?”

She shrugs at you with a smile, “That’s not my kind of business owner ethic.” Still walking, the plaza was buzzing with many adults, likely due to it being a weekday. “So~”

“Oh, please don’t,” you say, already expecting the topic that’s about to come up. “What? Are you not feeling the two?” She asked, her face looking like a clueless puppy. “No. I am feeling the two, and that’s the issue!”

“Ah, I love a good love triangle,” she giggles, trying to make light of the situation, but she realizes you were serious about it. “Y/n, you just met them. You shouldn’t have to force anything. Just go with the flow!”

“You weren’t there, Isa. It just felt like I added two new problems into my life when I quite literally just finished one,” you say, insinuating your first problem being Shuhua. “Girl, seriously, try not to stress. Whatever happens, happens. You like who you like, and you love who you love. You know, the whole shebang.”

You laugh, “I just don’t want to be in a position where I have to pick from the two, but I just seem to be heading down that path right now.”

“Well, just have some fun with it. Hang out with both, get to know them more, and find who you want. No need to pressure yourself in choosing and finding love when you don’t have a definite answer.”

That was probably one of the most genuine pieces of advice that Isa gave in a long time, making you go into thought. “Maybe… That actually sounds like a good idea.”

The words slip out of your mouth. You guys go to a stall selling bubble tea and wait in line. As if you manifested it out of your conversation, from the corner of your eyes, you see Sohyun walking with a couple of friends. She wore her glasses, some washed mom jeans, and a hoody, making her quite comfy.

While walking, Sohyun feels the eyes on her. She looks around and finds you in the line of people, a smile forming on her face. “Guys, I’ll catch up in a little,” she tells her friends and walks over to you and Isa.

You tried looking at Isa as if you didn’t see the younger girl in the first place, hoping that would save your ass… at least you tried. As Isa stared at you confusingly, your best friend looked behind you, and she saw someone a tad bit taller towering over you. Once she realizes who it is, she stares at you with wide eyes, and your eyes practically signal, ‘SOS, I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!’

" Y/n-unnie?” You heard her voice, and Isa signaled you with her hands to go on, trying to save you from any embarrassment. You coughed, spinning around: “Sohyun! What a coincidence seeing you here.” The tone of your voice evidently confused the young a bit; it was as if you were talking to your pet about how good they were.

One brow was raised, and slight amusement hinted in her face. “Uh yeah, I was just hanging out with some university friends today, and then I got a race later.” You tried to act as if you were interested. Which you were, but all you wanted to do was run away as fast as possible.

“That’s cool. I have the day off, so-”

Shit.

“A day off?” As soon as that sentence slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it. Yeah~, my brother told me I’ve been working a lot, so,” you awkwardly giggle, which makes Isa nudge you a bit. You look at her, and she shakes her head, mouthing, ' Stop embarrassing yourself in front of a hottie.’

Sohyun finally noticed you were with a friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you guys,” she said, “and Isa got startled at the respectable gesture. Don’t worry, you weren’t.”

You look at the two, and Isa gives you crazy eyes for involving her in this mortifying interaction. “Ah, Sohyun-ah, this is Isa, my childhood best friend,” the younger girl's eyebrows raised at the fact, shaking her hand. “I’m Sohyun.”

“Oh, I know,” Isa says, making Sohyun look at you as you just slapped your forehead with quite the force.

“It’s been quite some time since we hung out. Maybe… you wanna come to the race tonight? You can just watch, too, if you prefer that,” she asks, and you look at Isa, not knowing how to answer. The younger notices the hesitance and clarifies, “You can bring Isa too if you’d like.”

You look at her in surprise, slowly nodding in agreement. “That can work.”

Sohyun’s smile grows excited as she does a tiny dace, “Great! I’ll send you the details, unnie!” She then looks at her phone, her friends pinging her every second they could. “I do have to go. My friends are looking for me, but I’ll see you guys there?” You and Isa nod, still unsure about the idea, as Isa looks more enthusiastic.

“You just like how painful this is for me,” the two of you inched up in the line, two spots away from the counter. “Oh, most definitely,” your best friend says with an evil grin as you pout at her, finding this entertaining.

As the two of you reach the front of the line, you order your prepared drinks quickly. You then begin walking in the opposite direction of Sohyun and her friends. Your phone receives a notification while sipping your milk tea and thinking of the race.

You see that it’s Sohyun sending you a direct message on Instagram, but when you read it, it feels like your heart drops. ‘Here are the details of the race later tn. I’m sure all of Cheuksin will be happy to see you. Ryujin unnie and I missed you a lot, so :3.’

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You just mumble and get louder and louder. This had Isa looking around before looking back at you, “Okay, relax before someone thinks you actually needa shit, please.”

“Dude, it totally went over my head that Ryujin is going to be at the race. " As you struggled to process the forgotten information, Isa gave you a deadpanned face. “Ryujin… is literally, like… the leader of her group. You just forgot all that or~?”

“Well, Sherlock, I clearly did,” you roll your eyes at Isa, who giggles. “Stop finding this funny~.”

“I can’t help it,” she says, laughing harder while admitting it.

You and Isa arrived thirty minutes late at the race in your car. Isa suggested that more people be around so it wouldn’t feel awkward. Yet your heart couldn’t stop racing because it likely wouldn’t matter. As your car rolled in, many Cheuksin members remembered the vehicle, giving subtle waves in its direction.

“Well, aren’t you miss popular in these streets,” Isa says, genuinely impressed at everyone waving. You roll your eyes but chuckle, “Maybe I left a good impression.”

“Yeah. After you didn’t show up for three weeks,” Isa cracks at her own joke, and you slap her shoulder, making her give you a fake offensive stare. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The both of you exit your car and stand on the sidewalk, just wanting to be on the sidelines and out of anyone’s vision. You knew someone would tell the two girls about your arrival, but you were delaying the inevitable.

“It’s been so long~,” Isa practically wines, and you smile. When she lived near Incheon as a child, the two of you religiously hung out. So, realistically, she was there for your early days in racing. Isa had seen the triumphs, the disasters, the breakdowns, and everything under the sun at these events and she always loved them. “You always ate up all the drama at these things.”

You laugh, but she makes another joke, “Yeah, but now you're a part of the drama.” That had your face switched up so fast, causing Isa to laugh even harder. “Dude, this just can’t be happening to me right now,” you groan.

“Hey, stranger,” you hear a soft voice to your close left, causing you to whip your head in that direction to find Sohyun with a goofy smile on her face. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“I mean, we were free, so we said, why not,” you tried playing it cool, not wanting to hurt her feelings by being ‘mean.’ “Oh, long time no see,” you heard that deep voice coming from in front of you and it made you nervous.

You see Ryujin walking forward, her strides ever so authoritative. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” she expresses as her head tilts in curiosity. “Cause I invited her,” the younger butted in, and the both of you gave her a side eye, one more hostile looking than the other. “Word spread fast, so I had to see if it was real.”

“Definitely real,” Isa mumbles, but it catches Ryujin’s attention. She glances between the two of you, a bit confused. “And this is?”

“Uhm, Isa. My best friend,” you tell her as you feel your heart racing and your palms getting a bit sweaty. “Childhood best friend,” Isa emphasizes, making the leader chuckle. “Had to establish the title there, huh?” Isa nods in a joking manner, and her hand points at Ryujin.

“Are you gonna stay until my race at the end?”

The question was so innocent, but it felt that it was entailing something more. Your nervousness wasn’t so noticeable, but as an observant one, Sohyun felt the vibes shift once Ryujin walked over. While watching the two of you, the younger didn’t want to accept that her mentor had this kind of effect on you.

The effect that had a person weak to the knees, or as if they were holding their breath. It made Sohyun feel unworthy of your attention, especially since you felt more nonchalant at the shopping plaza earlier in the day.

She decided to butt in, trying to still catch your attention. “Y/n unnie, can you cheer for me?” You were taken aback by the request, looking back at Ryujin, but gave in, “Of course, Hyun.”

You just saying her nickname made her heart skip a beat. Only people close to her used the name, and the two of you didn’t interact much, but it just did something to her. She may have felt like she was overreacting, but these are the kind of small gestures she was looking for from you.

Ryujin notices her protege’s attempts, trying not to glare at the girl. There was no reason to be territorial over you. It felt far too soon for that.

But Ryujin was a woman who knew what she wanted, and she wanted you. She was willing to make that happen, even if it meant of getting in Sohyun’s way.

As a leader, Ryujin was rarely ever mean, aggressive, or power hungry. In fact she was alway nice, sweet, and heroic for a lot of Cheuksin’s member. Yet in her heart, she knew, that it was okay to be selfish once in a while, especially if it was the sake of her love life.

“Make sure you stay till the end, okay?” Ryujin asks, softening her tone. You look at her, perplexed as to why she sounded a bit desperate there, “why?”

“I wanna have a pretty trophy for tonight,” she says, walking away backward with a smirk. She wasn’t telling you nor saying the trophy was you, but you knew exactly what she was implying without saying it. You were speechless at the smooth comment, your stomach filling with butterflies instantly. Isa slaps your arm as she squeals, “that was so hot,” she whispers in your ear.

You hear a slight cough, remembering Sohyun was still beside you. The girl didn’t want to make it obvious but was irritated. She invited you here, so she should be getting this attention.

She would admit she isn’t one to have so much charisma. Sohyun may have been popular, but she was a nerd, shy, and a bit awkward at times. The only way she could probably compete with Ryujin in that aspect was with her driving… and some liquid courage, which was obviously impossible for tonight.

“I don’t blame her,” Sohyun admits to you, and now you are back in confusion. “I’d wanna win a prize as good as you,” she smiles. Now, this was cute, and it made your heart wanna burst as she walked back to her car.

“They’re basically having a rizz battle over you, girl.” Isa laughs at your disgusted face, “Never say that shit ever again, please,” you giggle as she throws her hands up. In your friendship, she had always been the comedian, which was a relief ninety percent of the time, so you weren’t always stressed out.

After a few minutes, an announcement blares from a mega phone, stating the next race with the racers, which included Sohyun. This wasn’t a Cheuksin exclusive event so you were surprised to hear the infamous Yeonjun being there against her again.

“Oh dear,” you mumbled and Isa looks into the street, seeing his fiery red hair in his car. “As in like… Djinn, Yeonjun?” You reluctantly nod at the question. “Then oh dear, indeed.”

As you watch, Sohyun sat in her car, eyes shut as she did her best to calm her nerves. She kept telling herself that she’s beaten him once, but knowing in the back of her mind, you were watching made her heart race. Since seeing you race, Sohyun wanted to do something that could impress and amazing racer like you.

That meant if she had to get reckless in this race… she would.

When the flag girl’s voice was loud and clear on go, Sohyun and Yeonjun could be seen neck and neck right out the gates.

The vice captain of Djinn thought he would take his revenge, so despite the rest of the crew not being there, he was gonna do anything to win. Little did he know that the newbie was feeling the exact same way.

The dron flew around, following the race with its camera and everyone pulls out their phones. The track was insanely harder than the last, their were many sharp turns, a straight line to the freeway, and it was going into many busy streets with many cars.

The four cars hit the first sharp turn, Sohyun taking a smaller drift to stay in front. Yeonjun wouldn’t let her off easy though, as he smoothly follows, almost rearing her car. “I’m gonna win this shit today,” Yeonjun tells himself, the aggressiveness begging to simmer. Everyone dislikes losing, but Yeonjun was one that hated feeling like a sore loser in anything, which was quite obvious with his dirty tactics.

Another sharp turn followed, the street leading up to the free way. Sohyun saw a car double parked in front of her and the smartest thing would be to remove herself from the lane instantly, but when she looks in her rearview mirror, she sees Yeonjun’s vicious smirk basically toying with her.

That made the next decision easy.

Sohyun would clutch her gear shift, moving it down to speed up the vehicle with the car in the way. You watched, eyes widening trying to run over to Ryujin as Isa followed. “What the fuck is she thinking?” You asked the leader, eyes glued to the phone. That decision could end ugly and you wouldn’t want to think of any racer getting hurt.

“I’m not sure,” Ryujin mumbles, slightly worried at the odd choice. Was she doing this to impress you? That thought made Ryujin furious. She was aware that her and Sohyun liked you, but putting her life in danger? That was a line that Ryujin wasn’t willing to cross over a race like this.

“She better move that clutch and get out the way now!” As if Sohyun heard you from miles away, she swerved out the way. Behind her, Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the move, and seeing the car in front of him, he doesn’t have enough time to process, swerving out of the way and into the side walk.

“Crazy bitch!” Yeonjun slams his fist on the steering wheel, and does his best to compose himself as he backed up. Yet the other two cars passing him surely didn’t help his anger. “What the actual fuck was that?” Isa asks, concern in her tone. All the years she had watched you and your brother race, she had never seen someone do such a risky move like that.

She basically had the intent to hurt Yeonjun, which didn’t sit well with you or your best friend. Sohyun on the other hand kept driving, not knowing if she was actually mentally ill or proud of what she had done. As she gets on the freeway, Sohyun successfully weaves through every car.

The young girl was getting confident until she heard cars honking behind her from afar. Sohyun peaks at her right side mirror seeing a raging Yeonjun who was overtaking cars fast, close to making several accidents happen. “What is going on in this race?” You help your forehead, shaking it in disappointment. Ryujin takes a glimpse at you, and when looking back to her phone, she didn’t know what to think. “Your playing a dumb game here, Hyun,” she mumbles.

Sohyun drives past the last car, turning as fast as she can into the race treacks exit. As she reaches the busy streets, she does her best to avoid people and the cars but it seemed that her situation wasn’t stopping Yeonjun from going crazy. In a fit of rage, he started bumping into parked cars, the paint of his car were getting chipped, and little dents could be found all around.

“Yeonjun looks like he's about to go on a rampage…” Isa tells both you and Ryujin, the both of you looking extremely worried. He was gaining speed quick, almost as if her wanted to ram her car so bad. Sohyun was beginning to sweat bullets, until she takes a quick turn, taking a slight short cut which causes Yeonjun to crash a little harder that before. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” At this rate he couldn’t catch up, and the younger sighs in relief.

She comes across the finish line, the two of the races far behind due to the scene and you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. This wasn’t the kind of racing you liked, and as much as you knew of Sohyun’s potential, you’d never want her to race like that ever again.

Sohyun runs over to you, Ryujin, and Isa with a large grin on her face, seemingly proud of her efforts. “How’d I do?” “Well, you won,” Ryujin states the obvious, not knowing whether she should approve of her in the moment, or be disappointed at her letting her emotions run wild. Sohyun’s eyes look at you all puppy like but you can’t help but look at her with such dismay.

Although, you understood emotions getting the nest of you, especially as a new racer so you didn’t want to go too hard on her. You sigh but give a tight lipped smile, “You did good, but please try not to race like that ever again.” The tone of your voice made Sohyun a bit sad but she can only nod, understanding that it was mainly out of concern. Seeing this, Ryujin smiles but then remembers Yeonjun.

“You may have dealt with him today, but Yeonjun will likely have a big target on your back… possibly all of Djinn as well.”

“Well, I guess I’ve officially made them an enemy,” Sohyun whines but you outright laugh. “You don’t even have to worry about that. Djinn has been trying to get at Cheuksin for years, and I mean many years. They won’t be a threat to you guys. Well, that’s not to say Yeonjun won’t be a threat to you, but you have trustworthy members by your side,” you point over at the majority of the crew, her best friends Jay and Jake giving a small wave and some enthusiastic thumbs up which has Sohyun and Ryujin chuckle.

“Well, I guess I’m up,” Ryujin tells all of you, waving off to her car as she gets ready. You then began to think of a big possibility, “Shuhua won’t be here, will she?”

Those words had Isa thinking of the worst. Sohyun shakes her head furiously. “You don’t have to worry. Shuhua seems to have slown down on racing since the Turf Races.”

Isa jokes, “Don’t tell me she’s heartbroken or something?” You laugh at the joke as well, but Sohyun makes this weird face basically saying, ‘kinda?’

“You can’t be serious now…” You looked reluctant to believe it but Sohyun shrugs. “You must’ve done a number on her. Apparently her last race was two weeks ago in Incheon and she lost. Seems to be on a losing streak as well.”

Isa looks at you, quite impressed with your usual, ‘heartbreaking powers’ as she likes to call them. You begin to hear engines reaving, seeing Ryujin’s car at the starting point. From what the drone showed, it seemed like the race track would be quite different. The four cars would be going through the same sharp turns but they’ll stay on the freeway longer, reaching a long tunnel that many vehicles don’t usually take, then they circle around, taking a more curved path while coming back.

You weren’t even paying attention and as the race began, you were so pleased to watch Ryujin drive so effortlessly. It’s so evident in how smoothly she drives her Shelby, no surprising moves, no insane tricks, and it just felt relaxing to watch. Not heart pumping, but still exciting. It was the traditional racing Wonwoo surrounded you with growing up.

It felt like comfort. Felt like home, actually.

You smiled at the way she maneuvered, it looked like watching pure perfection. The close calls didn’t feel like that what’s so ever, just the tire marks looking like perfect curves, and how effortlessly she would speed up when needed.

As the group traveled into the tunnel, the drone flew lower giving everyone who watched a closer view. It zoomed in front of Ryujin who had the relaxed expression on her face, the evident deep breaths she took made her feel comfortable in each spot.

You watched as she made use of her large space, increasing the gap she had with the three cars. They did a fast loop around in a busier road, she would smoothly move out of the way, just her heart at ease. While driving, Ryujin could feel the adrenaline rising, but she regulated her breathing, trying to keep her head clear.

Which clearly paid off, since she passes the finish line further ahead than the other racers.

Everyone begins to cheer and you clap, clearly impressed by her performance. When Sohyun looked at you and saw the significant difference in your face while watching both races, she couldn’t help but be disappointed with herself.

She had a plan, to show of what she’s capable of, but it just backfired with making Ryujin look like the better person. “So~, how’d I do?” Ryujin asks you as she walks up, her forearms reaching out.

You were almost speechless by what you saw, but just almost. “You did amazing,” you say with a smile, giving her a genuine hug. You haven’t enjoyed that kind of racing since Wonwoo’s last race seven years ago. Just watching it all had your heart swelling out of joy.

Sohyun watched from afar, getting annoyed, and just stormed off while only Ryujin took notice. You and Isa couldn’t even tell especiall with all the ruckus going on in the crowd.

“Wanna stop ignoring me now and come to my our races?” Ryujin quipped in a joking manner but those words shocked you. She noticed despite not knowing you for so long.

“Dude, when I tell you she raced like how you used to. You’d have to see it for yourself oppa!”

It was the day you got back to work, and Wonwoo had been given an earful about the races in the past few hours. “I know, I saw everything,” you look at him confused, “how?”

“I think you forget, these races are live streamed. I was fixing up a motorcycle here while watching,” you were gonna say something, but held back your tongue knowing you did forget. “That Sohyun kid… she did some very questionable things out there,” you heard him say as he worked under a car. You could only sigh, “I know! I tried telling her not to…”

“Do you think-” He pauses, not knowing whether he should say it or not. “Do I think what?”

“Do you think she did those things to show off to you?” You halt from working on the engine in front of you, not liking the way your brain was thinking. “I would hope not.”

“Don’t forget, she’s a young, new racer, Y/n/n. It gets the best of everyone sometimes,” you were aware of that, but it still didn’t sit right with you. “I wouldn’t want anyone risking their own safety for me. She also put another racer at risk,” you grunted, more frustrated than anything.

“I know Yeonjun is a dick, but it doesn’t justify why she did. Two wrongs do not make a right,” you emphasis your last sentence and Wonwoo preaches, “That I will always agree on. Never stoop lower. Ever. Because once you do and get into the habit of it-”

“There’s always a high possibly of you getting hurt in the end,” you say at the same time as him, always remembering your older brothers words when racing. Everything Sohyun did went against your morals. Yeonjun does play dirty, theres no doubt about it, but he also had a reasonable excuse to be angry. He just can’t control his emotions properly.

As you were about to switch to pliers, your phone rings and you see Ryujin’s contact name come up. After her race, she boldy asked for your number saying, “Now I think the only reward I’ll accept today is your number.”

You open up the text reading ‘pls come to Cheuksin’s spot tonight at eight.’ And that was it. You rolled your eyes subconsciously, finding her suspiciousness funny, so you reply ‘sure,’ leaving it at that.

Once 7:30 rolls around, you say bye to your brother, and going home for a brisk shower and change of outfit. You washed up and changed into some more comfortable running sneakers, some black legging, and a cropped off the shoulder knitted sweater.

Driving to the spot took no long than twenty minutes, and you see everyone hanging out under the bridge. As you parked your car and walked over, you find Ryujin standing in the middle. Sohyun, who didn’t look surprise at all to see you, makes eye contact. Her eyes were full of sadness, and she looked down to her knees quickly while sitting on a lawn chair.

“Since you were all free today, I decided to call an emergency meeting,” Ryujin looks around, then sees you and gives a small wave. You smile at the small gesture and she continues, “There are a few things I want to speak about tonight.”

“One, Sohyun and your race,” she looks at Sohyun who still hasnt raised her head, knowing she was about to get told off. “I get it,” the leader starts and Sohyun looks up surprised. “You’re a young racer. Less experience, and we all make dumb decisions. Although that doesn’t mean your let off the hook tonight.”

“No matter what you are feeling in the moment, no matter whose around, none of you should be putting your safety at risk for a race. With that being said, Sohyun is suspended from racing for two weeks. What happened that day isn’t against the racing rules, but we have order here in Cheuksin, but we also care about all of our racers, so please keep that in mind.”

Sohyun knew it, it was going to be her likely punishment anyways but she still couldn’t help but be so angry at herself.

Ryujin continued with all her announcements like more races, some meeting with the ‘alumni’ of Cheuksin, and everything she could fit in that moment. She ends the meeting, but everyone stays, enjoying each others company. Ryujin walks over to you and you proceed to look impressed, “Did you invite me here to show off your leader skill?”

She laughs, “I just thought it would be fun, okay?” You carry on the conversation with her, Ryujin keeping a beautiful smile on your face. As the two of you were enjoying yourselves, you catch Sohyun sitting far away from everyone at the corner of your eye. You feel terribly bad and say, “I’ll be back.” Ryujin sees you walking over to her direction, sighing.

Ryujin wasn’t cocky, but she was sure you liked her more than Sohyun, but it was also clear that you had a big heart.

“Well this isn’t a way to party now,” Sohyun hears your voice and jolts up. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” she sounded so out of it, and you just sit down next to her, letting the silence engulf the both of you. It was a comfortable silence, but in Sohyun’s mind, she seemed to be having an internal warfare until she made up her mind.

“You know I like you, right?” After five minutes of silence, Sohyun admits her feelings. “Wha-”

“I like you,” You look at her surprised, it was obvious but just outright saying it was now what you were expecting out of just sitting next to her. “Your kind, smart, experienced, knowledgeable, pretty, and everything I could want in a woman,” she said, lowering her head once she called you pretty.

You didn’t know what to say, “Sohyun I-”

“Just… listen first, please?” You shut your mouth quickly, letting her pour everything out. “When I first saw you, I thought the the world sent me a goddess when I needed it. Any racer, no, any person out thee would find you perfect. I guess, I’m just glad that I feel seen by you, even if it isn’t much.”

“...but I know you like her,” Sohyun voices, her voice feeling frail at the reality. “Like who?” “I know you like Ryujin, Y/n. It isn’t exactly a secret. We’ve both known you for the same amount of time, but you see Ryujin for all that she is. Her talent, her brains, her demenour, her personality.”

She sighs leaning her head back, trying to not let the tears fall, “You guys are perfect for each other,” she whispered. “Sohyun-” “You should go back to her,” She tells you, wiping her tearful eyes quickly, not wanting to cry in front of you. Before you get up and got cut off again, you just tell her, “You’re a greet person, Hyun, and a great Racer. It’s just a small bump in the road. Remember that?” She nodded, looking away from you.

You walked back over to Ryujin who waited while leaning on her own car. “Good talk?” Your face morphs indifferently, “It was something.” She sees the sad gaze you give Sohyun, and decides to do something nice to put a smile on your face. Ryujin begins pulling your arm over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, “Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

You stood there, really confused, “Huh? What about my car?” She pushes you in lightly, but you willingly go in yourself, “We’ll come back for it don’t worry.”

She hops into the driver seat, and the ride was in comfortable silence as the empty roads felt serene. Ryujin stops her car at an abandoned lot that was large yet in the middle of nowhere. She signals to exit the vehicle and lays on the hood of her car, you follow, just leaning on it.

“I wanted to get away with you, even if it was just for a moment,” Ryujin tells you, and you look up at the dark sky, seeing specks of stars. “This is beautiful,” she leans up, looking at your face, “it is.” You turn your head, finding her gaze and blush hard whil quickly looking away.

“I hope… you go easy on Hyun. The girl has so much talent and the moment got to her,” you nod, understanding the situation. “I know, I just always hated racing that way. Wonwoo kind of wired me that way,” you chuckle.

Ryujin wanted to say it now, she wanted to say she liked you, before you could slip out of her grasp. But instead of saying her feelings, she randomly goes, “Wanna take my car for a spin?” Your eyes widen. Within racing culture, letting others drive your car was pretty rare because of how much people cared for their vehicles. “But not anyone should be driving racers cars.”

“You aren’t just anyone, Y/n,” those words made your heart jump, the racing feeling happening in your chest instead. She tosses her keys to you, and you catch it with ease. “Come on~” She whines, making you smile and get in from the drivers side. You start of the car, the feeling of the leather steering wheel making you feel comfortable. “Book it,” Ryujin says, and you look at her. She looks straight ahead with a smile, confident in your abilities. “Well, you said so,” you move the clutch and drive at a high speed.

The lot was enormous, making you drift whenever and wherever as Ryujin just smiles at the experience. She had never let anyone drive her Shelby, but she was glad to give the first opportunity to you. She know she was an excellent driving, but being in the car while you took the wheel felt otherworldly. Your hand looked so delicate on the clutch and wheel and every movement you made felt like you culd do this in your sleep.

“God, how can I not like you?” Ryujin says in the spur of the moment, but doesnt regret it as you stop the car super abruptly, the both of you jolting forward ever so slightly. “Okay, ouch. But what did you just say?” She rubs her neck a bit, the slight pain lingering from the whiplash. “I said, how can I not like you?”

…You looked as if you seen a ghost, keeping your mouth shut tight and Ryujin laughs at the reaction. “Come on~, I knew it was obvious, no?”

“I mean, yeah, but hearing it makes it feel real.”

“But it is real. I like you a lot, Y/n,” Ryujin confesses and you feel your shoulders relaxing, her words fully processing in your mind. “I like you a lot too,” You tell her with a smile, and Ryujin just wanted to kiss your beautiful face right then and there, but she wanted to cherish you and take it slow. “How ‘bout we grab a bite?”

“Is this you asking me out?” Ryujin looks offended, shaking her head rapidly. “First off, our first date will definitely be more prepared. I just want to spend the night with you and have the night never end,” her eyes twinkled due to the moonlight and your cheeks flush a bit.

“Then I’d love to.”

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