#idk it’s kinda just some words that have been related to me over the years thrown together that I got attached too X3

[chibishortdeath]

Strange question, but would you alright with responding to this with your separated username? Im dyslexic and have a very hard understanding what it says ^^"

Sure no problem!!! :D I’m kinda dyslexic too so I understand, I’m gonna put it in bold too cause that helps me sometimes if that’s alright d(^^ ).

Chibi Short Death

[httpiastri]

more than enough – jmm21

you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.

genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort

pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya

warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk

word count: 2.6k

author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)

this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.

also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)

"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"

the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"

pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"

"i must've forgotten to tell you."

"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"

"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."

"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"

you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."

the biggest understatement of the year.

you hate your birthday.

for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.

you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.

it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.

you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.

"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."

your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.

the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."

you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."

he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."

"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"

to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."

"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.

your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.

"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."

"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.

pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."

nora snorts. "what? of course she does."

"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."

pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.

but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.

"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"

"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"

"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.

pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."

nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."

"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."

"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."

you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."

pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.

but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.

most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.

pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.

his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.

the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.

pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.

he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."

it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-

the cake on his lap.

you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...

but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.

pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.

he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.

"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"

you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."

he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.

"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"

pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.

he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.

hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.

but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.

baby steps.

"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"

he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.

"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."

"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."

birthday? eleven.

the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.

"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."

"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"

you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"

"ooh, garlic! thank you!"

pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"

"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."

you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.

"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."

"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."

"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

[gnreadergames]

Weird Science

Egon Spengler x Named FTM!Male Oc

Content warnings: Some sexual tension leading into non-graphic sexual content, mostly sickeningly sweet shit, Egon’s a lil crazy, Alex likes em cooky, doctor kink?? Is that a thing? Idk, either way a PHD title is used in a way no one should use a PHD title. Unless they are freaks like me :3

A/N: Crawling out of my hole I’ve been in for *checks watch* like almost a year to bring you this. I have no excuses guys I just rewatched my favorite movie and wanted to fuck the science man again. Super self indulgent, also for my trans readers because I’ve noticed a lot of yall thirsting after this man are trans. Congratulations my niche little subjects, here’s some food.

Word count: 13,971. - Yes you read that right. I just really wanted to write some gooey porn about the science man okay?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Egon Spengler sat alone in the firehouse, surrounded by the various specimen he had collected from a bust and the various machines created to catch and contain ghosts. He had just finished running diagnostics on the Proton Packs, fixing a bug that Peter had showed him on his, and was in the process of cataloging and tagging some new samples he had collected on their last bust of a succubus in a hotel.

Alex was quiet about accessing the stairs. The door to the bottom always squeaked but he made sure to pull it open extra slowly this time, and somehow successfully managed to make it all the way up to the top of the 2nd floor completely silently. Egon was perched at the main table in the kitchen up top. Its circular surface was covered with bagged petri-dishes, spore samples, and various robotic gadgets he guessed were for ghost hunting. He deftly approached from behind.

Egon’s head was down, nose intently tucked into whatever journal he was writing in now as Alex tiptoed up behind him and every so suddenly crouched down beside him to ear level and said, in a level inside voice, ‘Whatcha’ up to Spengs’?”.

Egon startled. It was Alex. It was rare for anyone to just come up behind him at the firehouse, but given recent events, he wasn't really surprised. He put down his pen, looking to get a better look at Alex.

"Hm? Oh, just going over the findings from our last bust. And the latest samples. It's all pretty...standard stuff, really. Nothing worth getting excited about."

“Yeah? Thought molds spores and fungi were your type of fun, guy-“ Alex laughed a little at his own joke, hand brushing the back of the chair and inadvertently brushing ever so briefly against Egon’s bare neck. Alex blushed slightly and hoped Egon was too focused to have noticed as he took a seat next to him.

Egon glanced up from his notes. Despite Alex making his presence very obvious, Egon had been so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed. Now, he was caught, and clearly flustered.

"Right. It's not that this sort of stuff isn't interesting. It's just..." He paused, trying to come up with the right words. "It's less exciting than seeing ghosts, you know? There's much less danger to it."

Alex cocked his head, curious. ”So is that why you do it?” He asked.

He thought for a moment, considering how to answer this question.

"In a sense, I suppose. There is always the hope that when I'm out investigating, I might encounter something truly new. Something unexpected and unpredictable. Something that could turn the whole study of ghosts on its head. And believe me, it's been a long time since we've had a true breakthrough in ghost related research."

“Is it the danger or is it the superiority? The control?” Alex blurted out without really thinking. When he realized what he said and how odd of a question it was “I just mean…” he stammered, “Do you think you like the danger, or do you like being in control? Do you like feeling powerful over the ghosts? Do you like the chase and the win? Kinda like a game…” Alex mumbled off, blushing. He felt like he only further incriminated himself into his line of thinking.

Egon laughed quietly. Clearly he wasn't offended by the question, even if it was a rather strange one. He was also more than a little intrigued.

"There is certainly an element of control, I must admit. I do like to think that I know what I'm doing out there." He paused, still smiling. "But at the same time, I'm also just as much at the mercy of the ghosts. There's always a certain...risk that I think I enjoy."

“Hm. You work in interesting ways ‘Spengs…” Alex hummed thoughtfully. His posture became a little more relaxed as he rested forward, chin on his elbow watching Egon tag samples and hum along to a janky radio he had sitting on an adjacent counter of the kitchen.

"Doctor Spengler, if you don't mind," Egon corrected, his tone only half-joking.

He glanced back down at his notes, making a few more small adjustments before finally setting the pen down.

"So you just...came over here to bother me while I work?"

“Mostly. It is my favorite pastime as you know.” Alex smirked, almost cat-like. Egon rolled his eyes, he knew the gentle teasing Alex put him through.

“Also, Doctor Spengler? What am I, one of your patients? Or do you just get a kick out of making people call you that?” Alex teased again, this time dropping his voice a little in a lusty tone that made him laugh trying to get it out in one piece.

Egon smirked, rolling his eyes in return. Alex's teasing was one of the things he actually did kind of enjoy.

”The latter, if I'm being perfectly honest. Not that I'll ever admit it."

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"But you have to admit, Doctor is a much nicer title than Mr. Or even Professor. That title's always been a little too pretentious for its own good," he continued to banter.

I like Mr. in…” Alex paused, looking pensively upwards, “certain contexts. Like if you were to get married. Mr. And Mrs. Or er, Mr. And Mr…” Alex said casually. He hadn’t formally come out to Egon but he knew Venkman’s little vermin hands had background checked him enough to know his dating preferences already and his gender. And to be fully honest, he liked Egon more than anybody else here, even if he’d only admit it under extreme duress, or maybe too much alcohol.

So he deserved to know.

Or maybe Alex was a little desperate to share practically anything about himself in hopes of getting closer to the other man.

Egon's eyebrow raised slightly, hearing this. Alex hadn't come out to him directly, but this felt pretty obvious. It wasn't an issue to Egon anyway, but he was curious to know now.

"Alex...are you telling me you're interested in...men?"

He cleared his throat, his tone a bit nervous. He wasn't sure how to react.

“Oh-“ Alex hadn’t expected Egon to ask him so directly. But then again, he never was one for taking hints. “Yeah, I am.”

His face was redder than usual and it was obvious Egon’s bluntness had caught him slightly off guard and flustered him.

“I hope that isn’t a problem with you. I really like…spending time with you Egon.” Alex said. He wanted to leave it vague, for now at least. He didn’t even know if Egon was into men, let alone if Egon considered him a friend let alone a potential romantic interest. He didn’t want to jump the guns too fast here.

Egon looked at him, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Alex...I have no problem with it. I'm very happy to spend time with you as well. I just...wasn't expecting you to say that."

For a moment, he seemed like he was going to say something more. But he held back, thinking better of it, clearly not sure what to actually say right now.

"Just didn't have you pegged as one who...preferred men's company."

“Oh really?” Alex laughed, he could lighten the mood up a bit hopefully. “What did you have me pegged for then, ‘Spengs?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows curiously.

Egon laughed quietly as well.

"Well, you seem like you'd have an eye for the ladies." He grinned, still in an obviously good-natured way. "If you're into guys, then you're not exactly...what I would call 'typically gay' looking."

“Well…thanks?” Alex laughed. “I’m into women too, so I guess I would be in the middle of whatever spectrum you’re thinking of.”

He crumpled up a loose straw wrapper from Egon’s ginger ale and started to flick it back and forth between his fingers, nervously.

Egon nodded. He didn't seem all that surprised by this; if anything he had always got the sense that Alex was at least a little bit bi-curious, given some of the conversations they'd had.

"Right. The ol' 'bisexual' thing." He joked.

Suddenly he looked at Alex again, with an expression of sudden realization.

"Wait. Wait a minute. Are you...are you saying..."

His eyes widened slightly.

“What? Not so blunt now Egon?” Alex questioned.

“Are you...hitting on me?”

Egon looked at him, and this time his tone seemed to be one of genuine curiosity, mixed with amusement.

“Who said anything about hitting on you? Just thought you should know.” Alex was very clearly red around the apples of his cheeks and ears. He was at least embarrassed, if not caught.

Egon felt something warm and vulnerable flutter underneath one of his ribs. He swallowed.

Alex was stubborn and obviously determined not to be caught this fast in this little game they had been playing, the roughly 3 weeks of back and forth bantering, the casual drink after work when everyone else had already left, and of course, decidedly ignoring whatever happened after the attack on New York when he saw Egon exit the building safely, if not covered in goo.

Even though he, and he’s pretty sure Egon too, both remember it, neither of them have brought it up in a serious manner.

Egon laughed quietly, shaking his head. He was surprised sure, but he certainly wasn't upset. If anything, the opposite.

They were alone together, no one to hear or see anything. No one to interrupt them. Egon took a deep breath.

"Okay. I'll be honest," he said, looking Alex directly in the eye. "If you were trying to get me to figure out you're interested in me, then that definitely did the trick."

Alex smiled. It was different from his usually sly cat-like grin. This time, it was a softer, less slick looking smile with some genuine warmth behind it.

“And why would somebody as astute as the doctor Egon Spengler care about such a thing?” Alex asked, feigning being coy.

Egon had to laugh at that, shaking his head. Alex was a lot of things, but one thing he most certainly was not was subtle.

"I care because..." he paused, his smile becoming a bit broader. Despite their teasing back and forth, he was suddenly being completely genuine.

"Actually, this is probably pretty obvious, but..." He let the rest go unsaid for a moment. He didn't know what he wanted to come next. If he actually wanted to stay casual, or if he wanted more.

Alex swallowed audibly with how quiet the room had gotten suddenly.

“Egon….do you….like me?” Alex asked softly. He felt like he was dreaming, like he would wake up at any moment and this would all have been some fevered imagination of a sickly brain, a brain obsessed with this gorgeous brainiac.

Egon's face was a shade of pink now...a very noticeable pink. He shifted in his seat, clearly a bit flustered.

"I..." he said quietly. "...yes." He raised his hands up slightly, as if trying to steady himself.

"I mean...if you're okay with what that means and all that...is it...alright if I'm honest with you?"

“Please” Alex begged, voice wavering. He wanted this so much he didn’t know how to ask with words. He had practiced this scenario a thousand times over in his head as he tried to fall asleep night after night and still, he didn’t know how to respond to this. “Be honest.”

Egon swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts and his breath.

"Okay...well...I...I don't think I could have made it through the last few months without you." His words came out in spurts, each sentence broken up by pauses as he lost himself in his thoughts.

"There's always been something about you. Something I've found...really irresistible. Your mind, your energy...your...your...ahem...your...um...your...looks" He smirked softly as he finished that last sentence.

Alex flushed bright red.

Up until 10 minutes ago he had doubts the doctor even had the capabilities to be attracted to anybody, much less a man, and to hear that he had potentially been being discreetly checked out around the office made a slight sweat break out under his collared shirt and tie.

Not that he hadn’t been doing the same thing to Egon a few times when he worked… who can blame him? He flushed even harder thinking about one specific time and broke eye contact, embarrassed.

Egon couldn't help but chuckle at this. He could tell that he'd caught a very sensitive nerve. A grin spread across his face as he shook his head, still laughing a bit.

"God you're cute when you get like this," Egon said, almost teasingly.

His tone became more serious again, as he leaned forward a bit closer towards Alex.

"Can I ask you something?"

“Y-“ Alex had to swallow, mouth suddenly becoming dry as Egon leaned ever closer. “Yeah.” His eyes couldn’t look anywhere by Egon now, and he was sure his face was visibly red by now if it wasn’t before.

Egon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Before, you said you hadn't formally told me...about...your preferences. Was there a specific reason for this? Because I'd like to know if..."

He stopped there, looking into Alex's warm brown eyes. He took another deep breath.

"Was it because you weren't sure about my preferences?"

Alex caught a nervous laugh. He didn’t want Egon to think he was laughing at him, he was just so relieved they might possibly be on the same page and that this wasn’t another time Alex would be head over heels for another guy that would leave him the first chance he got a hotter woman to look at him.

“Yeah…I was just… curious is all.” Alex looked down at the floor, nervous and a bit embarrassed to be that easy to read. “Took you long enough…I think the others were starting to think I was just weird.”

Egon smirked, letting out an amused sigh.

"Well, they're not necessarily...wrong about that." He said, teasingly as always. But it was clear that he didn't mean it in an offensive way.

When Alex said he was curious, Egon understood. He had always wondered why Alex had never talked much about personal subjects like that. He was starting to see why now.

"Right. Well, I think it's my turn to be honest, yeah?"

“I think it is, doctor.” Alex teased back. Now that he knew Egon liked using that little word he was going to be sure to make it difficult. Especially if this conversation was going the way he thought it was.

Egon grinned, playing along for now.

"Okay. My turn to be honest, then."

He looked at Alex, his expression more serious again.

"I'm still confused on one thing, though. Can I ask you a personal question?"

”Go ahead” Alex said. He supposed he could be honest about it all now since he’d been pretty much found out.

Egon breathed. "Alright. I can't help but notice that after every time we have a bust, something happens between us...how do I say this? More than before. Have you ever...noticed that too?”

Egon paused to take a deep breath, still holding his eye contact. This was the moment of truth. He'd known that for some time now, the two of them were beginning to develop feelings for each other. But he'd held back, not wanting to push it too fast. But now he couldn't hold back anymore. He needed to know if Alex had noticed too.

”I’ve…” Alex had to choose his words carefully. “I’ve noticed it too. When I started working here last year…” Alex shifted nervously and then suddenly became more serious, sitting up and placing his hands on the table. “When I started working here last year I didn’t think much about it. It was supposed to just be a stepping stone to bigger things, being the Ghostbusters official PR manager is nothing to sneeze at and I thought if I just hung out here long enough I could get a job somewhere on Wall Street, bigger things, better pay…” Alex swallowed. “But then I started to like hanging out with you guys. And then we became friends, and suddenly it became a lot harder to see it as just a job. And then after…well to be honest right before the New York attack, that night you walked me home after we were the last two here, I think I sort of thought about you differently than the rest of them.”

Alex didn’t know how to explain it, it was difficult putting it into words. “I think I realized I cared about you more. In a different way I mean. Sure I’m friends with Venkmen and Stanz and Zeddemore, but I didn’t see you like I saw them. I wanted to get to know you more, I knew it when I said goodnight to you and it was snowing on my doorstep. And you smiled at me. I think I knew then. And then of course right after that big attack happened and I thought for sure you were dead, we had no clue how anything was going to play out and I just remembered feeling like I could die of happiness seeing you walk out of that building, and…I guess before I knew it I was already moving to you. I don’t really know why I hugged you, I was just…glad you were okay. I was glad I hadn’t missed my chance with you, I guess. I hadn’t realized how special you were to me.”

Egon's eyes were locked on Alex's every breath, every word. It was like he was seeing him in an entirely different light right now. They'd flirted and teased back and forth before, but everything here sounded so much more genuine and sincere. Like they weren't even playing a game anymore, they were being very real with each other. It was a beautiful thing.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding inside his chest. He felt like...like this was it.

"Can I be honest with you about something, too?"

“Anything.” Alex breathed. He felt like he was going to explode admitting all of that.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding even faster. Just like Alex he was ready to explode. But he had to get this off his chest. Now that they'd started, he couldn't think of a reason to stop.

"I've never...I've never felt the way about anyone before the way that I feel about you. I didn't even realize it at first but I've been..." He couldn't believe he was saying all this. "...I've been thinking about you a lot. Too damn much of the time, actually."

Alex smiled, giddy and carefree. He felt a little dizzy with nerves.

“Really?” He breathed, excitedly. “I’m so glad. I can’t stop thinking about you, I felt like I was going crazy. I think even Venkman picked up on it this past month when you went on that blind date Stanz set you up on.”

Egon chuckled, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah...can't say it was a successful date."

He thought back to the disaster of a date he'd been set up with a few weeks ago. It was pretty damn clear to even Venkman. So maybe they were a little more transparent than they should have been with their feelings of late towards their friend’s attempts to set them up with other people.

"I feel stupid for letting it take this long to acknowledge any of this."

“Maybe we’re both stupid.” Alex thought, dumbly. But he couldn’t let anything dampen his mood right now. He felt like he was floating, almost drunk with happiness.

“So Mr. Scientist,” he said, balancing his chin on his hand and reaching an index finger to fiddle around with the lid of an empty Petri dish in front of him, “tell me about what you think about me. What’s been on that big brain of yours?” He purred.

Egon felt his heart skip a beat when Alex started flirting with him. He wasn't used to it, but he really liked it. What he liked even more was the idea that someone as brilliant and attractive as Alex thought this way about him.

Egon chuckled, his lips curling up into a smirk. "You want me to be honest about what I think about you?"

“Honesty is the best policy” Alex nodded, intrigued.

"Yeah...yeah it definitely is." Egon leaned forward, his gaze even more intense than before.

"I think you're absolutely brilliant. Not just in terms of your science...but your mind itself. That sharp, witty mind of yours is such a...turn on." His smirk became a bit more mischievous as he spoke. "I love it when you try to outwit a person in conversation, when you get all riled up and competitive.... I love even more that I've never seen you lose."

“You have such a way with your stupid words.” Alex giggled. He was sure he was making a fool of himself but he couldn’t believe somebody like the Egon Spengler found him attractive. He could count on one hand the times he’d been this lucky in his entire life.

“You really know how to flatter a guy,” Alex admitted, tracing the rim of the Petri dish with the same finger absentmindedly.

Egon smiled, chuckling at that, but not denying the accuracy.

"I wasn't kidding when I said your mind turns me on."

He leaned in even closer, his gaze burning into Alex's. He looked at the way Alex was tracing the rim of his empty petri dish and had an idea.

"I have a suggestion..."

“Shoot.” Alex said, sharpening the ‘T’ sound, almost bitingly.

Egon swallowed, almost nervous looking. But he thought this would be the perfect way to test the waters, to see just how interested Alex really was before he took it a step further.

"Close your eyes..."

“Okay.” Alex said, cautiously but trusting. He knew Egon wouldn’t hurt him and if anything, not knowing what was coming next and being completely at the will of the other man kind of made him feel safe. It was nice. It made his heart race a little.

He shut his eyes gently, waiting.

Egon smirked, enjoying the game he was playing. He stood up, and slowly started moving behind Alex, his movements very subtle and patient. When he got behind him, he took the same index finger that Alex had been tracing the edge of the Petri dish with and ran it softly, delicately over the back of Alex's neck, sliding it into his hair and slowly running it through.

Alex shivered at the touch.

Christ.

Okay.

He hadn’t been expecting this. Egon wasn’t a touchy person, not even in the throes of victory, so this was new, and honestly thrilling for Alex.

“Egon…” Alex practically purred, keening towards the touch. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

Egon smiled, pleased with the way Alex reacted to it. He decided to go a step further, and slowly, still using only his one index finger, started stroking Alex's hair down his neck, and eventually down his shoulders as he continued to trace a line down Alex's back.

Alex shivered and twitched with every vertebrae that Egon ran his finger past.

“This another one of your experiments, doctor?” Alex teased with a voice lower and slower than normal, but this time the air was thicker with something unspoken and unseen. But it could be very, very felt. Distantly, Alex was glad everyone else had taken this Saturday off.

Egon smirked. He loved that he was making Alex squirm, that he was clearly enjoying this so much. Alex's lower and slower voice made his chest tremble with a mix of emotion. A mix of excitement and fear. He was enjoying this, this flirtatious back and forth, but now he was feeling more daring…

"No experiment...this is something...much more personal."

“And what exactly are you testing here?” Alex asked. He still hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but now he thought he couldn’t bear not being able to see Egon for a second longer. He opened his eyes, and titled his head slightly back and was met with an angled view of his affections.

His heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting Egon to look anything less than well…perfect. But this was new. Egon’s once soft brown eyes looked almost black with how dilated his pupils were, and his olive completion was a richer red tone around his face and ears. He may be more cognitively in control of the situation, but it was good to see that he was just as affected by Alex as he was by Egon.

Egon smirked and stepped even closer, their mouths finally just inches away from one another. He watched as the corners of Alex's lips quivered ever so slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of joy sweep over him.

"My test..." Egon's voice was lower, and more seductive than ever. "...is to see exactly how far I can push it before you can't take it anymore."

As he spoke, he leaned just a tiny bit closer. Their lips were almost touching…

“Egon,” Alex’s voice was barely a whisper but it somehow only came out as a strung out whimper. He titled his head back ever so slightly more and he felt Egon’s breath hot on his lips.

Alex would beg for mercy if he had to. He just wanted Egon. He was so happy he could cry. His entire body felt like it was vibrating with how wired and nervous he was.

Egon knew at this point he couldn't hold back anymore. It was obvious he was just as nervous as Alex was. And in this intense moment, he needed to let him know that. His hands fell to Alex's shoulders and he pulled him even closer, so their chests were pressing sharply up against one another.

Egon's voice was lower than the lowest, as he began to whisper right back.

"God do you know how badly I want you, right now? What I would do to you if I could right this second?"

Alex’s head spun. Who was this? His Egon was quiet and professional, but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t thought of this side of Egon, better said, dreamed of Egon having a side like this. He knew Egon was a man of control, and rules, but he also knew Egon, like every man, had buttons.

And buttons, could be pressed.

“We’re alone for the day.” Alex reminded. Egon was so close their foreheads were pressed together. Eyes locked.

Egon froze at that, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. He felt Alex's body pressed up against him, his heart pounding in his ears. His lips were mere centimeters apart, now. And he was suddenly hit with a wave of...nerve? Fear? Excitement?

Finally, Egon's mind won the war within.

"God damn it, it's taking every ounce of self control I have right now not to just start ripping you apart with my teeth..." he said, eyes darker than before.

Oh.

A little crazy.

Alex could work with a little crazy.

“Please-” let it never be said that Alex was above begging, because he wasn’t. Especially not for Egon. He would beg for Egon to call him worthless and pathetic. He would beg for Egon to spit on him. Egon being nice to him? Practically as strong as cocaine straight to the brain.

Alex leaned forward and clumsily brushed his lips against Egon’s for a mere second before pulling back, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded. He wanted Egon to want this as much as him. He wanted Egon to want him.

Egon stared into Alex's eyes, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute. Just seeing Alex's lips meet his, even for just one brief contact, sent a jolt of pure euphoria through his entire body. He'd never realized just how much he'd wanted this...how much he'd wanted Alex, until this very moment.

Finally, he did it. Before he had a chance to second guess his actions, Egon let his instincts take over. He leaned forward and pulled Alex back into him with one firm and quick motion. He then proceeded to take over this kiss…

Alex gasped into the kiss. He wasn’t expecting Egon to be this rough, but he guessed there was a certain aspect of desperation on both of their ends. Egon felt like he was devouring him. Alex’s knees felt like they were going to buckle, and he was lowering slowly, slowly, with pathetic little noises as Egon kissed the breath out of him.

He broke for a second, as Egon leaned over him, pushing his back into the chair, legs straddling it weakly. “Eg-“ he gasped as Egon went in for another kiss, just as hungry as the last. Alex broke away again, more determinedly “I’ve wanted this for so long. So, so, long…” his legs still weak, he leaned into Egon’s chest and arms, holding him.

Egon was in almost as much of a stupor as Alex, that little bit he'd tasted of him before had sent his heart soaring to new heights. His whole body felt alive, every single nerve. He couldn't believe how much he had wanted this, how badly he'd want to take it even further. But right now, was just the two of them, alone, the downstairs door locked.

As Alex spoke, Egon squeezed him harder by instinct alone. It was only making him yearn for much, much more…

“How long?” Alex asked between kisses. His right knee gave out and he felt Egon pull away. He made a weak noise of protest as Egon’s body pulled from his, until he realized he was being pulled with it and spun around. Suddenly, he found himself being picked up by the hips and sat gingerly and quickly onto the edge of the table, legs straddled and Egon standing in between. He kissed Alex again, tongue slipping into his mouth. He obviously didn’t seem content with the position though, too far, as he broke apart again soon after to grab Alex’s hips and yank him toward Egon’s standing ones, legs locking behind his back.

“Since when?” Alex asked again. “When did you know?” He felt drunk as Egon moved to kiss his jawline.

Egon smirked when he realized what Alex was actually asking him. To have someone this sharp, this witty being so...weak in your hands was an incredibly intoxicating experience. But the time to pick was over, now was all about play.

"God I don't know...it's been a while." Egon moved back in to capture Alex's mouth once again, holding onto his hips for dear life. "Since I started to want to see the sides of you that weren't professional, that weren't strictly business...I wanted to see exactly how human you could be."

“I’ve wanted you since that day in January. The one where we had the poltergeist in the-ah!” Alex winced as Egon moved to his neck and bit at a sensitive spot just under his ear, soft tender flesh. “S-since, that day- when- when you came back to the lab in your- your lab clothes all-” Alex’s left hand, the stronger of the two, came up to grasp at the dress shirt stretched over Egon’s back, “and th-they were all singed and dusty, and you were covered in- mmhp- sweat, and you didn’t even look at me when you-you” Egon kissed Alex to shut him up briefly, and for a moment there was nothing but the noise of soft, labored breathing and the creaking of the wooden table as they pressed against one another, but eventually Egon let him go in favor of biting at his neck again. “You- you didn’t even look at me, just rolled, rolled up your sleeves and went to work in your lab. All serious, brow furrowed, covered in grime but still wanting to get data while- ah- it’s fresh-“ Alex smiled remembering it. He still felt fuzzy and the memory was still fresh. “You’re incredibly toned for a scientist did- did you know that?” Alex asked in a breathy voice. “You have a great- great body.”

Egon huffed a laugh against his neck.

Egon couldn't help but feel his ego inflate and his cheek turn red from Alex's compliment. He'd never considered just how toned his body was, especially with his lack of exercise and all his nerdy, intellectual pursuits. As Alex rambled on, Egon couldn't help but get more turned on.

He smirked as he bit down on Alex's neck again and felt his lips twitch against it, as if Alex was moaning.

"I think you might be the first person in a while who's actually taken the time to notice..."

“How could I not?” Alex asked. Egon had momentarily paused his nipping and chewing to lift his head and look up at Alex. His big, dark eyes were even darker than usual and it was hard to see where his pupil and iris even separated.

He looked, almost animal with it.

Alex had never seen a not very methodically, almost scientifically, controlled side of Egon. This made some part of Alex’s hindbrain flicker with a warmth he had only felt on lonely nights he spent fantasizing with his own hand and brain.

Egon smirked and tilted his head up as he looked at Alex's face, that perfect, beautiful, wonderful face that had eluded him and teased him for so long. He just couldn't get enough. Every part of his body was tingling with pleasure and desire. He wanted nothing more than to take Alex right here and right now.

"You look beautiful." Egon said it sincerely, truly believing every word of it. But then he leaned up and whispered, his voice a mischievous and enticing husk. "I'm going to make you even more beautiful..."

Alex complied limply. Whatever Egon wanted. Alex felt himself slipping quietly under into that mindset he loved so much. He didn’t need control. He trusted Egon. Whatever he wanted. He knew best. He wanted to make him proud. He wanted to do whatever would make Egon happy.

Alex reached his neck desperately towards Egon and caught one last desperate kiss with a small sound before he finally gave in and let Egon do whatever he wished.

As he watched Alex willingly yield to him, Egon couldn't help but smirk. The look on his face was just as he pictured: submissive, trusting, almost worshiping. He couldn't wait to push the limits of this power and see just how desperate his new lab assistant and lover was.

So Egon did just that, pushing Alex's shirt up and kissing his collarbone, slowly making his way up to his neck again. He bit and nibbled at his collar bone, all while rubbing his hands along Alex's back and hips.

“Ah!” Alex gasped. He was particularly sensitive on his hips, and once Egon knew, he used it devilishly. His thumb ran a steady back and forth rhythm over a ridge in his V-line, making Alex shiver. Another hand curled possessively over Alex’s back and made him preen with a particularly fiery feeling in his chest. Alex continued making weak and steady noises as Egon worked over his collarbone, biting and kissing everywhere he could reach, hands moving to grasp the skin he couldn’t cover with his mouth.

The power and the control that he was asserting over Alex was making Egon feel like he was in some kind of haze, like he was just floating around in a sea of bliss, a euphoric dream that he didn't want to ever end.

The way Alex reacted to his touch made his own heart skip a beat, hearing him make those soft little sounds as he nibbled just so slightly harder on his neck and collarbone. It was pushing all his buttons, making him want so much more…

“Please-” Alex begged, not entirely sure what exactly he was begging for. Whatever Egon would give him. Whatever Egon thought he deserved. Alex’s hands, at one point limp around Egon’s waist, now were clenched tightly into his shirt and his hair, respectively, as Alex’s body curled into Egon’s.

Egon shivered again as he heard Alex beg him, heard him pleading for more.

This was exactly what he had been dreaming of. A completely submissive Alex, one who would let Egon take control completely, one who would gladly turn over every inch of his body to Egon for...for whatever Egon wanted.

It was such a turn on that Egon couldn't even form whole sentences, his thoughts were getting the best of him and his body was ready to take...no, to take control.

“Whatever you want.” Alex wanted more. Whatever Egon would give him. He laid flat on the table as Egon pulled away and surveyed him quickly, eyes flitting across his body as a whole, flushed, shirt pushed up, hands clutching feverishly at the flat table finding nothing to grab on to.

Egon smirked, loving the look of desperation on Alex's face, knowing that he was completely and utterly at his mercy now. And as Egon looked over him, his eyes trailing up and down his body, it was like Alex's features became bolder, brighter, more handsome. He looked like a perfect specimen to him, to the point where Egon almost couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"I'm going to make your day today..."

“What are you going to do?” Alex asked, although he really didn’t need to know. He was okay with whatever. As long as Egon was happy with him, he’d do it.

Egon brushed a hand along the side of Alex’s stomach and Alex made a little hurt, punched out noise from his gut and curled into the touch, but it was gone almost as fast as it appeared.

"Just...just close your eyes for me and stay still for a minute." Egon's voice was heavy, and slightly out of breath. He was almost desperate himself, he needed this just as much as Alex, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make Alex want him and love him for the rest of his life.

Alex could almost physically feel Egon's desire in the air, his need for more, seeping off from him as it grew with every passing second. Egon's body was trembling, his breath quick and shallow.

”Okay…” Alex swallowed for the first time in a while, finding his mouth dry but his lips slick with spit. He felt slightly debauched, but he preened at the knowledge that it was Egon who made him this way. Only for Egon.

He sat patiently and waited for whatever Egon had next.

Egon watched as Alex closed his eyes, watching him with baited breath and a deep seated hunger his lips were practically quivering with desire. And as he watched, the hunger inside him only grew more intense.

Quickly, his hands traced along the top of Alex's body, down his sides, all the way down to his thighs, caressing and teasing his body, making sure there wasn't a single inch missed.

Alex whimpered. He felt crazed. Egon’s hands felt so large and warm, almost feverish. Everywhere he touched felt like it was melting. Alex was practically drunk off the feeling as he squirmed with every new press into tender flesh that Egon figured out could make him writhe.

Just the sound of Alex's squirms was enough for Egon to get worked up even more, each touch and each squeeze of his body had him trembling with desire, his body quivering with excitement, ready to explode out in a fit of sheer pleasure.

Egon's hands moved faster, his touches more firm. He was determined to tease every last ounce of sound out of him that he could.

“Please, enough teasing!” Alex begged. He was almost crying now. His heart has been racing this entire time. He still had one more secret to tell Egon and the longer the foreplay went on, the more nervous he got about telling him.

Hearing that voice break out in tears in response to his touches only sparked more hunger in Egon's chest, but when he heard the pleading come from Alex's mouth, that was enough to cause the last pieces of resistance to crumble. He had to. No more teasing, no more playing, this was the real deal. He needed him now.

"All right, yes, I will, just...just let me-" Egon said, but his words were cut short by his own mouth coming down hard against Alex's.

Alex moaned loudly. Perhaps the loudest one yet as Egon’s hands grabbed his hips and seared him against his pelvis firm. He could feel…a certain hardness against his leg as Egon’s tongue explored his mouth and practically stole his oxygen away.

Egon groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. He couldn't hold himself back much longer now, the only thing on his mind was getting more. More of this perfect body, more of the sound of his pleas and whimpers.

Egon's hand moved downwards, squeezing firmly and squeezing Alex tighter against him. It was all he could do to keep himself from pushing him down and taking what he wanted right then and there.

As Egon’s hand moved downward, Alex’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist in a moment of blind panic and clarity. It shocked Alex as much as it did Egon and for a moment they both simply stared at one another, panting, flushed.

“Egon…Eg-I’m…” Alex started, trying to word something but seemingly choking on it. “I need to tell you something before…before we do anything else.” Alex’s heart was in his throat. He thought he wouldn’t even get past the admission of him being bisexual, he didn’t know how to breech this. “Egon…I’m transgender.” Alex swallowed, throat tight with want as much as it was with fear.

Egon froze, hand still in mid air when he heard the words coming out of Alex's mouth. His breathing stopped, his heart beating out of his chest, it was a miracle that he didn't fall off of the table he was sitting on. Egon just stared, his mind whirring a million miles a second, trying to process what Alex had just told him.

All movement stopped.

God.

God.

He’d ruined it.

Ruined it.

Alex’s face burned with embarrassment. He knew Egon wouldn’t want him after this. He just thought…he doesn’t know what he thought…that in some miracle Egon would accept him?

His face burns with more than embarrassment, with shame.

He gets ready for Egon to push off and potentially even hit him. For baiting him. For being…a freak.

"Say that again."

It wasn't the reply Alex expected. It wasn't words that expressed disgust or anger or shame, but something deeper- something that spoke volumes to the depth of his emotions for him. Egon was breathless, his mind a million miles a second, but the intensity of the words in his throat were only getting stronger. He needed to hear it one more time to make sure he wasn't just hearing things.

Alex swallowed.

“I’m…I’m transgender.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand gripped the table’s edge, he could reach it from where Egon had pulled him closer to his hips. He was sweating, both from being hot, so so hot, pressed up against Egon, but also from nerves and anxiety chewing at his gut.

Egon's stomach flipped, his heart racing as blood rushed to every inch of his body. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the news he was just told, and he felt the heat and the intensity growing inside him again. But this time it was mixed with something new, with a hunger that he's never experienced before.

"Just one question..." Egon asked, his voice thick and heavy with desire and love. His body was trembling with need now, his heart ready to explode into sparks and flames.

”Yeah?” Alex whimpered.

Egon reached forward, grabbing Alex's wrist, pulling him closer, almost into a hug so he could whisper something in his ear.

"Are you a man?"

”Yes” Alex squeezed his eyes shut and whispered. Egon was so close.

"That's all I care about."

Egon's breath was so hot and heavy as he spoke, it felt like his words were igniting the room. He finally let go of Alex's wrist, his body trembling uncontrollably as all the desire he felt before seemed to have reached its peak. He was ready to take him, to mold him into whatever shape he found most desirable.

Jesus.

Jesus.

Alex felt like he was going to pass out. Or die. Maybe both.

His head was practically spinning. Egon’s hands grabbed his hips harder and slid down, brushing the waistband of his pants slightly further, exposing his hips and the beginning of a small happy trail.

He could cry.

He was so happy.

He was crying he realized. Tears slipped from his eyes as Egon began biting at his collarbone again.

Egon was like a heat seeking missile, his mouth, his lips, his teeth moving to whatever place he could find that would generate the most response out of Alex. He couldn't get enough of him, his lips trailing down his neck, down to his shoulders, his hand caressing his hips as he slowly pulled him even closer so he could bite, and bite, and scratch, and maul, and love every inch of him like he was a starving animal after the meal that had been denied him for months on end.

”Egon-“ Alex whimpered. His hands clawed at the thin fabric stretched over Egon’s back. He had money to afford the expensive thick type, Alex knew exactly what he was getting paid, but he also knew Egon preferred practical. Something he loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to come back to the lab dripping in ectoplasm or singed with soot.

In fact, maybe now Alex would finally have an excuse to get all those ruined cheap shirts off him.

Alex kissed at Egon’s mouth when he could. Brief, wet, desperate kisses.

Egon's mind was filled with nothing but Alex now, the sweet sound of his cries, the feel of his fingernails digging into his back, the way his body fit so neatly against his own....he couldn't go back, he didn't want to, he didn't intend on letting go of him until he finally saw him broken, broken and his, his alone.

Egon's desire continued to grow with every passing second, his breath getting heavier, his movements becoming more aggressive. He needed more.

“Whatever you want. Do whatever- I Just- ah - I need more” Alex pleaded. He knew it was pathetic. Begging to be taken, especially by someone he admired so much. He wanted Egon to think he was an equal, someone to be taken seriously. Not just some…whore. Something cheap to be broken.

But…maybe…just maybe…

He would like to be Egon’s anything.

He could be Egon’s plaything if he wanted. He’d bend.

He’s submit. He’d even let Egon break him, as long as he put him back together at the end.

And he would.

Because he knew Egon.

He trusted Egon.

So…

“More” he begged.

Egon's mind was just pure adrenaline now, thoughts coming one after another like a machine gun firing. Thoughts of him, of how he made this boy want him so desperately, how he trusted him so much that he'd let him do anything, even let him break him...it was everything he'd ever dreamed of and now that it was actually a reality it was all he could think about.

Egon's hands slid down to his back, gripping him harder, pulling him closer as his breath got heavier and heavier…

Alex bucked his hips against Egon, and the sweet friction that was there for less than a second lit a spark in his mind. He felt like goo. He was a specimen. All for Egon.

Now that he thought about it…he wouldn’t mind being examined like a subject. Put on display for the doctor.

Alex shivered at the thought.

“I really-really want you” Alex breathed, clutching at him.

Egon's movements slowed down as he saw how much he was affecting Alex now, how his actions were making the man absolutely tremble with desire and need. He savored the feeling, enjoying the feeling of his own dominance and the power it gave him. He could make Alex do anything, make him do anything he wanted…

"I want you bad..." Egon breathed, his voice heavy and thick with need as his mouth came down to Alex's neck, kissing and nipping along the way. Egon was trembling all over now.

”Then do something about it,” Alex bit, and leaned back baring his neck to Egon who bit it with a feverish intensity.

Egon moaned, the sound echoing in his ears as he bit and nicked along the sensitive areas on Alex's neck.

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

Egon's grip on him had begun to loosen, but it was only so he could move one of his hands around to push Alex's hips forward and make him buck even harder against him.

“AH!” Alex jumped as one of Egon’s hands slid down his back and into the back of his pants. It cupped flesh, squeezing. Alex rocked against the touch, his front brushing against Egon’s feeling just how excited he was by this.

“I want more though…” Alex pawed at Egon’s neatly tucked shirt, finally managing to ruck the back up enough to grab skin just on the small of his back. He tried to pull him closer. “There are beds just a few rooms away you know…” Alex bit at Egon’s ear and got an almost growl-like sound in response.

Egon's mouth left his neck as he heard his ear being nipped on, making his grip on him tight again. He'd been thinking the same thing, the pull of their bodies together was too much to pass up.

"You know what? You're right..." Egon murmured, the only sound the deep breathing of the both of them as Egon began to push Alex towards the beds, eager for the chance to give him everything he wanted.

Alex stumbled blindly, stupidly, towards the bunk room. He knew which bed was Egon’s, and was suddenly thankful for the twin size, as it meant they would have to be as close as possible.

“Egon…” Alex breathed as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, Egon’s hands cupping his jaw. Alex begun to work on pulling the front of Egon’s shirt out of his slacks.

Egon's heart was pounding in his chest, the sound just loud and heavy in his head as he watched Alex start to pull down his shirt. His mouth was dry as all of the blood had rushed to his lower half at this point, making his entire body feel hot all over. He was practically shaking with every touch of Alex's hands as he held himself back at the moment. He could let himself go later, he had to wait just a few more seconds…

”Can I?” Alex asked, practically doe eyed as he looked up at Egon, flushed with lips wet with spit.

His hands fumbled with the zipper of Egon’s pants and the buckle of his belt. This was the only time he cursed how perfectly dressed Egon was. It got in his way of what he really wanted right now.

"Oh... oh yes.”

Egon's entire body was trembling in anticipation, his entire being was just craving for anything he could get from Alex and now to think that he was going to let him take off his pants to get to him....he was not going to last long if this continued.

Alex deftly and quickly undid Egon’s belt and zipper with a speed that told Egon he had done this before, and a primal, stupid part of Egon’s brain flared with jealousy. He wanted to kill whoever taught Alex that. Alex was his.

Alex yanked Egon’s slacks down and his briefs along with it. Quickly, he nosed along the V of Egon’s hips with the ferocity of a starved animal. He licked and kissed anywhere he could get his mouth to.

Egon couldn't stop the guttural sound of pleasure that came from his mouth, his legs wobbling with every touch of Alex's tongue and mouth. His breath was heavy and sharp, his body trembling with the intense desire now coursing through him.

Alex’s hands moved to cover whatever he couldn’t get with his mouth. He wanted this to be good for Egon. He wanted to be good for Egon. He made sure to keep his teeth out of the way, using his tongue mostly. He was still shy, new at this despite the fever with which he undressed Egon.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy pressure on the back of his head.

Egon’s hand.

Egon shoved ever so lightly, forcing Alex to go lower. He had to breathe through his nose now, which was new. His eyes watered up again, threatening to spill.

He liked this Egon though. This new, dominant, side. He liked the pressure of his hand, he liked being told what to do.

Egon's breathing was hot and heavy as he pushed Alex lower to him, his breath rushing out of his mouth with a guttural hiss as he pushed him lower and lower and lower. He needed what Alex was giving him now more than anything he had felt before. He wanted it, needed it, his entire body was trembling in a mixture of anticipation and pleasure, he was close, and he was close very very quickly.

Alex could feel Egon tensing up. He didn’t want this to end so soon but he didn’t know whether or not Egon wanted to go…that far with him.

Egon’s hand released up on his head slightly. Gently, the same hand came to brush sweaty hair behind Alex’s ear.

Egon was hot in Alex’s mouth. Like melting velvet. Alex could stay here forever, warm and fuzzy, doing whatever Egon says. Whatever makes him make the sounds he’s making now.

"Stop..." Egon breathed, his voice was thick and heavy as it was hard for him to get the words out. He was too close now, he needed to keep control of himself for just a little longer, to hold back a bit before he blew this early.

"Look at me." Egon hissed through his teeth as he grabbed Alex's hair and pulled him back up to his face like a demanding master grabbing his pet's leash.

Alex almost choked, pulling quickly off of Egon. His hands were strong, and huge compared to Alex’s face. It was a pretty picture for Egon. A flushed and hazed Alex, back arched, shirt ruffled and pushed up, midriff showing.

“Egon-“ Alex’s voice was hoarse. There was still spit connecting him to Egon.

Alex’s hands drifted to Egon’s thighs. He felt bad, he’d have to wash these slacks for Egon later. He was pretty sure he was going to have to wash this entire bed later.

"Put your hair back" Egon demanded, using all his strength to keep himself from grabbing Alex and pulling him back down for more.

He couldn't see anything else right now other than Alex. He wanted him. He needed him to be his.

Alex’s hair was short so he simply tucked it behind his ear. He blinked up at Egon and got the cue as Egon began tearing at the buttons of Alex’s shirt.

“Ah!-“ Alex tried to protest his shirt being destroyed but Egon simply kissed him and pushed him further up the bed towards his pillows.

“I’ll buy you a new one-“ Egon mended as he pulled the scrap off of Alex’s back and began working to undo his pants, still almost fully dressed himself.

Egon was now barely thinking, he'd let his desire take absolute control of him. He was practically ripping off Alex's pants out of the pure desire to be able to see more of his body. It was almost animalistic the way he was moving now, he couldn't even see straight. All he knew was that it was time to take Alex as his own, to possess him completely.

“Please-“ Alex coughed as he broke away from Egon to paw weakly at his pants, slug around his hips.

Egon kissed him animalistically.

”Baby,” Alex whined. The blood rushed straight to Egon’s lower half.

"Please what?" Egon said, his hands moving to pin down Alex's hands, taking charge of the situation now. He knew a guy like this didn't want to be in charge. The way Alex had been acting so shyly earlier, the way he'd begged Egon to take control made it clear he was just too…overwhelmed to have any kind of power in this situation. Egon let his mouth roam over his neck, gently scratching and biting wherever he thought would get a reaction out of him.

Alex’s breath was coming in shallow puffs now. His eyes rolled back in his head as Egon continued to make dark marks around his neck. He wouldn’t be able to cover them, they’d know. They’d know he was Egon’s.

“Please- doctor!” Alex begged. Egon’s hand roamed up Alex’s lower half, now completely open to him.

Egon stopped, his hands drifting down to his hips again to grip them. He liked how Alex's eyes rolled back into his head as he called him doctor. It made his heart beat to think that Alex would want him to be his doctor, even if it was just for this moment, because that was exactly the title he wanted right now. He wanted to do experiments on him, to see the inside of him, to break him down into all of his pieces, then putting him together again like a puzzle to make him exactly what he needed.

“Take me…” Alex swallowed, mouth dry, “Take me apart…” He finally managed to pull his lovers pants completely off and his shirt as well, leaving him in the same state as Alex.

He was glad the fire house was warm. Hot, even.

Maybe that was just them two.

Egon's entire body shivered at that one sentence. It was as though he could feel the heat radiate off of his own body, his heart beating so quickly that it almost hurt him.

This boy, Alex, he was exactly what Egon needed. Maybe not just for a few nights, but for forever.

"Then I will take you apart..." Egon said, it was almost a threat. No one else was getting him, he was his.

“Please,” Alex kissed Egon as he felt him move. This position was similar to the table, except now Egon towered even more-so over him.

They hadn’t grabbed any sort of…help…for this. It was just them. Bare. Alex hoped Egon was fine with that. He was on the pill after all.

“I want you-“ Egon kissed Alex to shut him up and moved. He felt hot. Much hotter than anything or anybody Alex had been with before. And his body was, larger. He covered Alex’s whole chest, and he could feel one of Egon’s hands tracing one of his top surgery scars.

Egon shivered again, his body shaking with both the desire he was feeling and the thought that there was nothing to stop them from going all the way, no condoms or contraception, nothing at all. He wanted to take Alex and to make him his, on every level.

Alex's scars were just a bonus to him, something he liked to see on another's body as it told more about who they were. He would always appreciate the scars Alex got, because it made him know Alex even more.

“I don’t need…prep,” Alex breathed. He flushed with the admission but it was true. He watched as the realization suck into Egon’s face and he grinned, devilish.

“Yeah?” Egon asked, petting Alex’s side sweetly. It amazed him how even in such heated moments like this Egon could be so sweet and shy.

“Was thinking of you while I…” Alex admitted in a breathy, sort of out of control voice before he could even think about what he was saying.

"You were?" Egon whispered back, his voice full of shock, it seemed almost impossible that Alex would think of him at all when he was alone.

"Just me?"

Egon's hands began to make their way over Alex's body again, stroking down his sides as he watched for his reaction.

“Only you.” Alex moaned as Egon’s hand teased him.

“Wanted to be Yours” Alex purred. He kissed the bridge of Egon’s nose, something he knew the other man was sensitive about, but to Alex, he loved it, it was strong and regal just like the man it was attached to.

"Oh..." Egon breathed as he heard Alex moaning and kissing his nose, he could feel his heart skipping a beat at that admission. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, he didn't expect anyone to ever tell him that they wanted him, let alone only him. His entire body was trembling now as he felt a rush of emotions all at once.

He lowered his face back to Alex's and kissed him deeply, unable to help himself at all.

“Please, please need you now, needed you yesterday,” Alex began to whine, clawing at Egon’s back freely now. He was sure he would leave faint red marks in his wake. He wanted to mark Egon as much as Egon wanted to mark him.

He drew his legs around Egon’s back and pulled him closer into his hips, barely pulling him in.

Alex grit his teeth. He was so hot. He felt like he had a fever.

Egon groaned at that as his grip on Alex tightened, his breath coming out sharp and heavy as he pressed himself into him with everything he had. His heart was racing and he could feel his vision blurring at the heat now, he was so worked up that it was becoming difficult to keep steady because everything that Alex was doing was sending him straight to the breaking point.

Alex’s whines and moans took a sharp turn into a higher register as Egon pushed home. It felt insane. He felt like he was full to his throat. He wanted to spend and entire eon here in Egon’s arms.

Egon’s moans took a lower register however, as he braced one arm bracketing Alex’s head, hair flung widely out onto the pillow behind him. Alex’s arm flew up to claw at Egon’s nape.

It reminded him of how this started, Egon’s finger slowly drawing up and down his head.

Alex felt drunk. Egon felt powerful.

Egon could feel Alex's back arching as he pushed deeper and deeper, each movement making Egon feel more and more dominant, more and more in control of Alex. He could hear the other man growling and moaning with each thrust as it drove him close to his limit, but Egon couldn't stop himself, he wanted even more.

”Egon- Doctor- I’m so close” Alex breathed. His eyes were brimmed with tears as Egon pushed against a spot inside him that made him see stars. His hand gripped into Egon’s back further, and he was sure his nails were breaking skin as he dug into him and pulled him closer, kissing him harder, teeth biting lips and clacking into each other.

Egon's lips were still locked to his, his mouth moving even as his body shivered at the pressure from Alex's hand. He was on the verge of losing it completely, he needed this release more than anything right now because he had come so far. He'd be lying if he said his actions weren't a bit selfish, but no matter what his intentions were, his mind wasn't thinking like that right now, all he could think about was taking more and more.

“Egon.” Alex’s voice tumbled into a softer tone without even meaning to. “I thi-uh-” he made stupid little punched out noises with every movement. Egon gripped his hand that was on his back and pinned it to the pillows behind his head with his own. He felt just as hot as Alex, if not more so.

“I think- think I’m in-“ Alex gasped and made a long pathetic cry as Egon slowly moved and held his position against him. “ITHINKIMINLOVEWITHYOU-” Alex jumbled out in a moment of happiness and haze induced fog as Egon, the man of his dreams, the guy he’s wanted for so so long, holds him and kisses him and presses into him.

Egon shivered at that admission, his chest feeling as though it were being crushed from the sudden rush of emotions that came from Alex's words. He couldn't even think right now, he wasn't thinking of anything other than this moment, this man he had wanted for so long was in his arms telling him that he loved him. Egon squeezed the boy tighter as he finally released him from the pressure and finally allowed himself to just rest his weight on top of Alex, holding him close.

Alex felt Egon tense, and one of his large hands came to grip Alex’s lower half. He pulled, and a few strokes later Alex’s back bowed and his eyes rolled and he made an absolutely pathetic whimper as he folded.

He was Egon’s.

Egon shivered again, his jaw was clenched tight as he tried to get everything under control and stop his entire world from shaking. Now that he had Alex here, he wasn't going to let him go. He was only his, he was finally his and Egon had never felt this good before as he felt a rush of pride flow through him. He would have to wait to ask if it was just a heat-of-the-situation statement or if it was the real thing, but right now it didn't matter. All he could think of was that he had him.

Egon felt heavy on top of Alex as he laid there after the fact. Alex didn’t have the strength to move him. He really didn’t think he wanted to move him. He felt… warm and full and he really had never been happier. He had the man he loved in bed with him…shit, he had just made love to the man he loved. Alex felt like he may explode despite being so wrung out.

He could still feel Egon’s hands rubbing softly at his hips, even despite him being exhausted. Alex felt a different part of him warm, his heart. Even despite everything Egon was still thinking of him first.

Egon didn't try to move either, he felt so incredibly content just laying on top of Alex, his body pressed firmly against him. Egon's fingers were still tracing over his hips, he couldn't get enough of the boy beneath him. He'd never felt like this before, Alex had a hold on him he didn't think he would ever have over anyone, in this moment he had finally been taken by someone, he had finally been possessed and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep with Alex in his arms.

”Egon.” Alex whispered a few minutes after their breathing had calmed down. Egon had shifted slightly to get off of Alex’s chest.

“I love you.” Alex breathed as Egon played with his hair.

He felt Egon smile against his shoulder.

"I love you too."

Egon's reply was simple, but he meant it with all his heart as he shifted off of him, laying beside him now. He was so comfortable and so content with him, he wanted to hold him this way for the rest of his life and he honestly didn't want to be anywhere else right now. His arm snaked around and wrapped tightly around him as he brought him closer to himself, holding him close while his finger played with the hair at the back of his head.

Alex nuzzled into Egon’s neck. He shivered as the last of Egon pulled out.

“Do ya’ think we could sleep here?” Alex asked, already sleepy. Egon had tired him out, and he was still partially in that fuzzy state in between conscious and pliable.

Egon’s hand wrapped further around him. He was warm and still slightly tacky with sweat.

Egon shivered as he felt Alex nuzzle into him again, he couldn't help but give a soft chuckle when he heard his request to sleep together, he was already getting used to being Alex's pillow.

"Yes, I do."

He was tired too and he let himself drift off with his body pressed against Alex's, his arm keeping him close even when his eyes were starting to shut and his heart was trying to slow back down.

Alex fell asleep peacefully and quickly that night. It was nice. He felt completely comfortable for once. He had half the mind to pull his boxers and Egon’s shirt on before completely drifting off and forcing Egon to at least pull his boxers on as well.

-

He was glad he did, because somehow both of them forgot to set any sort of clock beside any bedside table, and by the time Venkman got to the firehouse the next day, they had just enough time to hear the door on the first floor open to be able to wake up and rush to get things ready.

Egon sat up slowly when he heard the firehouse door slam open from the lower floor. He looked around, seeing Alex pull on his boxers next to him.

He had to be dreaming still because Alex had spent the entire night with him. Egon was already slipping on pants by then and Alex was up as well.

They both looked half dressed but it was enough to not raise suspicions that they had been with each other. For all Peter knew, Egon had simply spent the night in the lab and Alex had had a particularly good date. They shuffled blearily into the kitchenette, and belatedly, Alex realized all of Egon’s work was still across the table. He hoped it could survive a night of no refrigeration, he would’ve hated to have ruined all of his hard work. He didn’t look worried, so Alex was not panicked just yet.

Instead, Egon headed to the kitchen and started pulling down some pancake mix and a bowl from a higher shelf than Alex couldn’t usually get to without going on his tip-toes, and grabbing a pan from under the sink.

Alex sat at the same chair he had been accosted in last night and watched intensely. Egon looked so domestic. He had to borrow extra sweats and an old college hoodie in his locker here since his clothes were ruined last night. He was lucky enough to have another work outfit in his locker. So he didn’t have the luxury of pretending like the two of them had truly spent a night together like a real couple.

Even though they did.

Finally.

Instead, he was already internally preparing to make up some story about someone else if Peter asked about his neck. Thankfully, Alex was smart enough to keep any marks he left on Egon where only he could see them.

Egon was focused on his cooking, he'd made pancakes here a few times before but he was determined to make this a good breakfast for Alex, now that they were actually official.

He was too focused on that to notice just how much Alex was staring at him, watching him like a predator would prey.

It was a nice feeling to know he had this kind of attention. He finally looked over at him though and smirked at the sight before going back to cooking.

Alex knew he had to tear his attention away before Venkman came up here and caught on to something. He was half worried that the place still reeked of sex.

He had quickly thrown the sheets of his and every other bed into the washer with the help of Egon, along with their clothes.

In all terms, nothing was left of evidence.

But Alex kinda wanted there to be.

He really, really liked Egon.

Watching him cook pancakes, for him and Alex, providing like this without being asked, warmed his heart a little bit and he had to catch himself before his brain took off with the thought and started imagining 10 years in the future, to mornings just like this, except maybe with a few little feet running around.

Egon was actually feeling warm at the looks Alex was giving him, it made him feel good that Alex was looking at him like this, that he could make this guy so happy. Egon didn't think of the future, he was just focused on this moment, on making these pancakes. Once he had the batter properly mixed he set the bowl down and pulled out the frying pan, beginning to heat it with grease.

Alex didn’t think anything could ruin his mood today.

That was, almost.

-

After Egon had finished his pancakes, they had both eaten just as Peter finally came upstairs to see them. Apparently he had stopped to check on the car before coming up, so they had more time than they thought.

They conversed casually, and sure enough, as Alex bit into another bite of his pancakes, he watched Peter eye his neck suspiciously.

“WHO gave you those things newsboy?” He asked, smirking.

Alex felt Egon’s leg tense against his, but he didn’t stop eating or show any other sign of being startled, so that was good.

“Just some girl from the bar…” Alex mumbled.

He didn’t know if Egon wanted to be open about it. He wished he had gotten to talk about it with him before everyone had shown up for work the next day. They had a scheduled go over of what they were going to do with the vault and its size soon.

But it was interrupted.

As soon as everyone had crowded around the breakfast nook upstairs, the alarms rang and Janine was yelling from downstairs about some high level poltergeist at the manhattan library. Suddenly, just as fast as they arrived, the boys had taken off in the van, all suited up.

Egon spared him a fleeting glance, and it was packed with a lot, before he had shuffled in and they had flipped the sirens on and pulled off.

Well.

He may as well get some work done for the rest of the day while they were gone.

-

Egon had caught an expression out of the corner of his eye from Peter and Alex's exchange that he didn't like, his jaw was clenching as they were interrupted, but there was no chance to dwell on it right now. He was more worried about Alex, hoping he wouldn't get into any kind of trouble from the lie he'd told. As Egon was going into the van he gave Alex a glimpse of a look that said 'I'll talk to you about it later' before being shut into the van with the rest of the team.

-

Alex had busied himself until the van had pulled up again late in the day.

It was a bad bust. At least a rough one.

There was a loud noise of the garage opening and the van pulled in with the boys in tow. They hoped out one by one.

Peter looked tired, already smoking. Ray was talking frantically to Winston who didn’t seem to be paying that much attention, talking about dinner. And finally, Egon folded himself out of the tight door and seemed to be almost…smoking.

Not, like. Attractive-ness wise.

Like, legitimately smoking.

As in on fire.

Alex rushed over to see what was wrong, but as he approached Egon simply held up the smoking ecto-trap, still steaming from a big catch. He smiled tiredly and looked down at Alex.

Egon looked exhausted and in need of a good shower at the moment, sweat and ash covered him and Alex couldn't find a clean spot on him if he tried. He was panting heavily the moment he made it out of the van since the last ghost they had encountered had been one hell of a fight. His eyes immediately locked with Alex's when he started running over towards him and his face lit up with that tired, sweet smile. He was grateful that the one person he actually wanted to see right now was there to see him.

Alex looked towards the rest of the boys. “Okay boys, beds are freshly made. Go shower and while you do that I’ll order your favorite Chinese takeout!” Alex declared and he could practically feel Egon melt under his touch on his back with his words.

With that, everyone scuddled off to busy themselves.

Egon's shoulders sagged the moment he heard that, his expression suddenly becoming much more relaxed and calm. As soon as the rest of the guys left the room he had wrapped his arms tightly around him again, burying his face down into the crook of his neck.

"I don't feel like you give yourself enough credit Alex, I'm always fed well here."

His words were tired and scratchy, but he was still smiling as he squeezed him tight.

Alex nuzzled back, only slightly bothered by the singed smell of his uniform. That would have to be fixed later.

“Go shower, big guy.” Alex shoved Egon gently off him and towards the showers with the rest of the guys. He wanted him to be clean and feeling good before he gave him a warm meal.

Egon reluctantly let himself be pushed away but he still made good use of the rest room as he stripped off his sweaty clothes and headed into the shower. It wasn't easy to wash the thick layer of sweat and ash from his skin this far in but he was able to at least get it to the point where he didn't smell like he'd been standing next to someone on fire. He got out of the shower after about 20 minutes and put on a clean set of clothes he had kept up here.

As he searched for clothes, he realized a sweater from earlier was missing. He’d have to ask Alex if he’d seen where it had gone, maybe in with the clothes that they ruined last night.

Egon smiled smugly at the thought.

And here everyone thought he had no game.

He shook his head.

It was more than that.

He really, really liked Alex. He felt connected to him, on a deeper level than he did with anybody else on the team. He wanted to come home to him after a long day of kicking ass and saving the world, knowing he was safe and happy.

Egon smiled at the thought happily as he appeared back in the kitchenette, empty save for you even though everyone else had gone off to shower before him.

Egon was content with this moment right now, he was home and he didn't have to worry about his team for a little while longer. And even if Alex was still going through his stuff, and stealing it to wear home, he didn't have any concerns.

"I'm back, how have you been holding up here?" He asked, walking into the kitchenette with a small, gentle smile as he leaned up against the counter. Egon just wanted to keep talking with Alex for a little while longer before they had to actually get busy with work things.

Alex opened one of 3 bags of Chinese food he had ordered while the rest of them were showering.

“I’m okay. That bust looked rough. Wanna’ talk about it?”

Alex asked, bumping his hip playfully against Egon’s in an attempt to keep the mood light even though he knew sometimes talking about scary or close-call busts made Egon get antsy.

Egon's face was still a little bit strained after the bust but he couldn't help but smile when he noticed Alex was trying to keep the mood light, Egon liked that part of him. He couldn't help but chuckle as Alex bumped his hip against him, he knew Alex was trying to help. When the topic of the bust came up, Egon tried to dismiss it.

"Oh it was nothing, the ghost was just a bit stronger than expected but it turned out fine. Don't worry about it."

Alex could tell he was dodging him, but he wasn’t going to push. Egon would come to him when he was ready.

Or, he maybe he could take out his stress with busts a different way now.

Either way, Alex didn’t mind for now.

Presently, he focused on getting the food out of the bags and cleaning Egon’s makeshift science lab off the and onto the counter.

Alex was glad. It looked like they had all survived the night and were doing fine. Egon didn’t seem fussed with him moving them either. Just watched, enraptured, leaning over the rest of the kitchen with arms folded as Alex moved methodically.

Egon's eyes kept on moving from his food to Alex and back again, that sweet smile never leaving his face as he admired the way he went about his work. Egon's stomach was rumbling now that that sweet smell was filling the kitchenette, the smell of the fresh food just making his stomach growl. His hand reached out to try and grab a piece of the food but each time he reached his hand out he stopped himself, not wanting to eat until Alex had a chance to eat something too.

Alex playfully batted at his hand. “Let me grab the others, they went to grab beers from the basement freezer.”

Alex swung himself quickly around the fire pole a few yards away and Egon watched him quickly drop out of view rolling his eyes.

Always dramatic.

Alex was the one that used that silly pole the most despite only being a desk jockey and a PR Princess for the team.

Egon chuckled a little bit as he watched Alex take the fire pole, as much as he thought it was a bit much he was more impressed that Alex could actually pull it off. Egon got too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Alex had left until he was back in just a minute or two with the other guys in tow.

Alex bounded up the stairs and gleefully placed a cold 6 pack down in the center. Janine was even in tow behind the rest of the guys.

Egon smiled gently. It was perfect. All his favorite people.

Alex brushed up against him, smiling with a specific warmth meant only for him.

He clapped his hands together happily. “Okay guys!” He addressed everyone and gestured to the wide spread of Chinese food in the center of the table, with the beer as the centerpiece. “Dig in!”

Egon felt like something had suddenly and unexpectedly popped into place in his life. Like something was just ever so slightly out of alignment, and in this particular moment it all became very, blindingly clear.

It was all perfect.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Final notes: woah!! Okay so that was a long story sorry everyone I have brainrot. Not responsible for my own actions but honestly we need more good ftm shit on this website so I took it upon myself. Hope everyone enjoyed but look out for more stuff soon because I finally feel like actually writing yayyyy :333

[whatsnewalycat]

Designated Person | Chapter 6

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 6: Present

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Series Summary: When posting bail for Frankie Morales, your former employer and former lover, you unwittingly designate yourself as his third party custodian during his pre-trial release. Your often tumultuous relationship with him is given a new set of rules and put to the test. Can the two of you co-exist peacefully, or will you crash and burn?

Word Count: 9.2k+

Content / Warnings: Frankie POV, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship and related flashbacks, angst, food, AA meeting, alcoholism, abuse mention, lying, confrontation, crying, mutual masturbation, panty snatchin' (sorry idk what else to call it)

Notes: Hello hello hello! If you want the taglist, spotify playlist, or AO3 link, head on down to the masterlist. I appreciate your patience in waiting for this, thank you so much for reading. Ok love u have fun!

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Tonight, the AA meeting is being held in the conference room of a value hotel. 

The three-story venue is ripe with families on vacation and traveling professionals who likely booked their rooms as a cost-saving measure. They certainly didn’t choose to stay here because of its charming features, such as the floating island of dead bugs in the outdoor swimming pool, or the dingy low-pile carpet darkened in high-traffic areas, or the generic, faded landscape portraits in shiny golden frames. 

Its conference room is windowless, the only source of light buzzing from long fluorescents overhead, dousing everything in a twitchy, vague sort of green that grips Frankie’s stomach. 

Or, maybe it’s just the story he’s listening to that’s making him feel ill. 

Maybe a little bit of both, it’s hard to tell. 

“She had her heart set on leaving, ‘n’ I told her, nobody fuckin’ wants you here anyway, Mary Beth, go on home!” 

The haggard old man, who introduced himself as Fred, says this in a jovial, rehearsed way that tells Frankie this story has been told many times. Probably over drinks, to coworkers, or friends, or anyone who happened to be within earshot at his regular barstool. 

Fred glances around over his puffy, purpled nose, like he half expects his spectators’ laughter, but the only noise is the squeak of people’s uncomfortable shifting in seats. Either because the story is too relatable, or because these folding chairs are hell on the tailbone. 

“She told me if I didn’t get my ass outta that barstool, she’d be gone when I got home,” he looks at the floor and his cheeky grin falls, “I didn’t go home ‘til barclose. ‘N’ she was still there. Knew she would be. She always was.”

The room is silent as he gathers his thoughts. 

“She passed away, few years back,” he looks around, putting his calloused hands up defensively, “‘N’ I miss her everyday, don’t get me wrong, but—”

The well-weathered skin of his face sags into solemnity, “I kinda wish she woulda kicked me to the curb, y’know? Was always waitin’ for it, for her to get fed up ‘n’ leave, but she never did. ‘N’ I think, sometimes, maybe… she woulda lived a better life if she did. ‘Steada waiting around for some drunk, she coulda really made somethin’ out of herself. And I feel…” he frowns at the floor, trying to pinpoint the correct emotion, a skill undoubtedly atrophied by decades of avoidance.

“Regret, I think? Wasting so much of her life. It’s one thing wastin’ my life, but her’s… I dunno. It don’t sit right,” Fred clears his throat and swallows, then sighs, “Guess that’s it. Our anniversary’s coming up next week, she’s been on my mind ‘n’ I wanted to get that out.” 

The ringleader for tonight is David, as is usually the case at the Monday night meetings Frankie attends. He thanks Fred for sharing, then asks for another volunteer. 

Frankie leans back in his seat and presses his fingers to his lips as another participant clears their throat and begins to talk. He’s stuck on the old man’s story, though. His knee starts bouncing as he turns it over in his mind. 

I’m not that bad, right? I wasn’t that absent. I didn’t go to the bar every night. On the weekends, sure. And on weeknights, I’d drink myself fuzzy and numb, but at least I was at home.

Was he really present, though? 

Before you, when Angie was home with Sarah on maternity leave, he’d come home from work and visit with them for a while. Knock a few beers or drinks back. After dinner, he would continue to drink in the garage, or in the basement. Somewhere Angie couldn’t raise her eyebrows every time he finished a beverage and retrieved a replacement. 

Even after you, this ritual continued. You distracted him enough to slow the drinking those few hours after he got home. But once the table was cleared after dinner, he would tuck himself away somewhere in the house to drink alone. 

It wasn’t always that way. 

He drank, sure, but it wasn’t every day. It wasn’t to the point his mind went blank. 

No, that didn’t start until he returned from South America. 

Every time his eyelids closed, it played on repeat. The mansion. The crash. The village. Redfly’s vacant eyes. Over and over. His culpability hung around his neck like a noose. 

The guys didn’t want to talk about it. A silent agreement not to mention their sins. Angie didn’t want to talk about it. Too pissed at him for going in the first place to feel bad for him. 

It just stayed inside him, replaying again and again on loop. He needed something to wipe the slate clean, and booze worked. 

Not like he was sober before then. Drinking himself blind on the weekends. Fuck, Angie was the same way. Before she got pregnant, anyway. That’s how they ended up meeting, that summer night back in 2018. 

He and Benny went to one of their frequent Saturday spots. The bar was crowded and loud, heavy throngs of people attracted by a popular local DJ. Summer heat crept into the air despite the industrial air conditioner running at full blast, Florida’s relentless humidity hung thick in the air, leaving a dewy residue on every surface. 

The only thing Frankie could smell was that primal, earthy scent of sweat. He pinched his shirt and pulled it away from his chest with a few quick tugs, trying to get some kind of a breeze going. When he looked around the bar, swathes of exposed skin all surrounded him, people wiping their foreheads and fanning themselves. 

He spotted two women sitting at a high-top table, leaning over their drinks and talking to each other. One of them was a pretty, unassuming brunette. The other had glossy black hair that shone in the neon lights, cascading in waves down the open back of her dress. She looked put together and fucking luminous, the way her copper skin seemed to glow. He couldn’t look away. 

Benny was in the middle of a sentence when Frankie cut him off, “Holy shit, look at her.” 

“What—who?” Benny followed Frankie’s line of sight and guffawed, “Her? She would eat you for fucking breakfast, man.”

“I fucking wish,” Frankie gave Benny this dopey smile, nodding towards them, “You getting a feel on the friend?”

Benny glanced her over and shrugged, a smirk turning up the corner of his mouth, “Pretty brunette?” 

“Right up your alley, huh?” Frankie grinned, then nudged his friend, “So?”

“Fuck it, why not?” Benny chuckled. 

“Atta boy,” Frankie smacked his shoulder a few times, then started off towards the table. 

“Hey, how’re you two doing tonight?” he asked as he leaned against the table, looking between the two women, who sized him up scrupulously, “Yeah, uh, my name is Frankie, this is my buddy, Benny. Mind if we join you?” 

“Why?” the subject of his desire asked, her big, round eyes searching Frankie’s face. 

“Why?” he raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “Well, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d sell my goddamn soul for an opportunity to talk to you—”

“Oh yeah?” she smirked and tilted her head, bringing the tip of her tongue to her top teeth before shrugging, “Prove it.” 

“You—you want it? My soul?” he grinned and leaned closer, “It’s yours, beautiful, for the low, low price of this barstool next to you. And maybe, if you’re feeling generous, a dance later?”

“That’s a hell of a deal,” she raised her eyebrows and joked, “For you, I mean.”

“Oh yeah?” he laughed, “What if I throw in a sweetener? I’ll buy your drinks, too, how’s that sound?” 

She scrunched her face up in contemplation, then smiled, “Deal.”

“Yeah?” Frankie beamed, extending his hand to her, and as she took it, he grazed his thumb against her soft skin, “What’s your name?”

“Angie,” she answered, eyebrow quirking as she told him, “This doesn’t mean you’re taking me home tonight, though.”

“Noted,” he smirked, dropping his eyes to her lips, before meeting her gaze, “So what’re you drinking?”

He woke up the next morning in his bed, head spinning, stomach clenching. 

Before opening his eyes, he tried to recount the night, following the path of breadcrumbs his memory allowed him. Meeting Angie, taking shots, flirting with her relentlessly, more drinks, dancing with her. Kissing her on the dance floor. The sidewalk slabs uneven beneath his feet on the walk back to his apartment. A woman’s razor sharp giggle as he fumbled to unlock the door. 

The mattress shifted beside him and he cracked one eyelid open tentatively, releasing a sigh of relief when he recognized Angie as the person tangled up in his sheets. Traces of the previous night’s makeup still held in tact on her face, oily pools gathering in the soft wrinkles of her forehead and eyes, black mascara clinging to her lashes in clumps and flaking onto her cheeks, a faint red outline where her lipstick was before he kissed it off of her. He rolled on his side towards her and brushed some of the sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. 

She hummed and frowned, then took a deep, wakeful breath as her eyes blinked open. They were stunning in the light. Golden streaks like sunbeams stretching from the middle of her iris into a deep, rich brown. 

“Oh, fuck,” she murmured, “We fucked, didn’t we?”

“That’s what it’s looking like,” he smirked, “How’re you feeling?”

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her button nose, “Still drunk.”

“Regret this yet?” he chuckled, half-joking, half-wondering. 

“Having sex with a stranger? Yeah, I’m having some regrets,” she scoffed, shaking her head, then threw her hand down at her side. She sighed and studied his face, “You’re cute, though. Kind of wish I could remember it.”

“Ditto,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with a shrug, “You know, we could have a do-over. Since we’re already here and regretting it. You could… let me have another chance to, ya know, make a lasting impression.” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” her dark eyebrow arched. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She brought her long, red fingernails to his hairline and combed them through his bed head. 

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, dropping his gaze to her lips, “Plus, that way, when this hangover inevitably kills me, I’ll die a happy man.” 

“Is that right?” she giggled. The sound made his heart sing in harmony. 

“That’s right,” he reached out to her under the covers, smoothing his hands along her soft skin, coaxing her closer as he murmured, “What do you think, princesa, hmm?”

“I think,” she wriggled on top of him, the sticky heat of her naked body clinging to his, “I could give you a fighting chance.“

She hovered over him, meeting his eyes for an intoxicating moment before he pulled her lips to his. From there, it was full throttle. Kissing, biting, gasping, moaning. Torrid, frenzied movements that burned bright and hot. 

Their relationship took off at break-neck speed. 

From that day onward, they were doing nightly sleepovers at each others’ apartments. Every free moment spent with the other, most often spent drinking or fucking. Six days into their relationship, Frankie got a text from some girl he was casually seeing. Angie read it when he was out of the room, then confronted him, resulting in their first drunk screaming match, and, subsequently, their first instance of drunk make-up sex. 

She worked at a global manufacturing plant’s central office with hundreds of other carpet-walkers and pencil-pushers as a financial analyst. Her hours often ran long and wound her up tight. 

When she would show up at Frankie’s apartment after work, she’d be ready to burst. He’d fix her a drink and listen to her bitch about coworkers and projects and idiots who used reply all instead of reply, waiting for her to ask him anything about his day. She never seemed all that curious about him, though, which irked him. 

They did have fun together, when they had sex and went out to bars, but by the end of the second month, he found her presence to be draining. That bug of discontentment wriggled beneath his skin. He realized they had little in common aside from their coping mechanisms and combustibility. 

He started to think about breaking things off with Angie, but, by then, it was too late. 

“Who would like to go next?” David asks, glancing around the circle of metal folding chairs and their scattered occupants. 

Frankie meets his eyes and points his index finger at the ceiling. 

“Floor’s yours, Frankie.” 

“Thanks,” Frankie nodded and crossed his arms, sitting back in the squeaky chair, “Growing up, my dad wasn’t around much,” his mouth opens, but a thought occurs to him and he chuckles, shaking his head, “There’s one for the AA Meeting Bingo Card, huh?” 

This actually earns a few amused grins and a snort of laughter from his peers. 

He leans forward, pressing his elbows into his knees with a shrug, “Anyway. Even when he was living with us, whenever I did see him, he had a beer in his hand. And I thought it was normal, like everyone’s dad went to the bar every night, so I didn’t think much of it. I’m not sure when that changed. When I started to notice, I mean, that it wasn’t normal.

“When I’d go to my friend’s house, I thought they were… I dunno, fucking weird? Because they sat around the dinner table and talked to each other while they ate. And—and they didn’t seem afraid of their dad. Like, they didn’t have to walk on eggshells when he was around, which made me… uncomfortable, I guess,” he grimaces and shakes his head, “Jesus Christ, that’s fucked up. But, anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that, to me, my dad’s behavior was normal. 

“There would be times when he would come home and be three sheets to the goddamn wind, and he’d yell and throw shit, and my ma, she would lock me in my bedroom and tell me not to come out. Said my dad wasn’t feeling well,” he crinkles his nose and shrugs, “They split when I was twelve. And I don’t blame her for leaving him, I really don’t, but… I didn’t see him again until I got out of basic.”

He stops and leans back, taps his fingers on his kneecaps, then crosses his arms. A knot tightens in his throat when he remembers that day. Knocking on the door of his dad’s shitty apartment in Orlando. When it swung open, Frankie barely recognized him. 

Seven years left to his own devices aged him decades. Deep wrinkles carved into his droopy forehead. His nose and cheeks were darkened and bumpy, like he had a pubescent case of acne. He looked Frankie over with glossy, barely-there eyes and slurred, “There’s my boy! Hey, come in, Francisco, come in!”

Frankie’s stomach soured when the words hit his face, thick and swollen with whiskey. A warning signal that laid dormant in his veins for years reawakened, gushing hot and electric beneath his staticky skin. 

His father turned and started waddling into the apartment, so Frankie followed him, closing the door left wide open behind him. The apartment was threadbare. A dingy beige couch sat on one side of the living room, facing a small antennaed tv propped up on a milk crate. Some blonde news anchor chattered on the tv, but the gurgling buzz of the air conditioning unit effectively muted her. In lieu of a proper dining room setup, his father had a folding chair tucked into a card table, which was cluttered by piles of unopened envelopes and empty beer cans.

While the stranger pulled two beer cans out of his fridge, Frankie managed to stitch some words together, “So, how’ve you been, Dad?”

He didn’t seem to hear his question, just held one aluminum can across the countertop to his son, “You’re a real man now, huh? Have a beer with me, Francisco.” 

Frankie took a few steps forward and went to lean onto the counter, but decided against it when he realized how sticky the surface was. He accepted the beer and opened it. 

“It’s been too long, my boy, too long. What has it been, four years?”

“Seven,” Frankie corrected, averting his gaze to a tower of dirty dishes emerging from cloudy, gray water in the sink. The wet, bacterial, rotting stench made his nose crinkle. 

“Ah, well. I’m, well…” he trailed off and swallowed three big gulps of beer, then grinned, “So, Special Forces, huh?”  

“Yeah, I—”

“I’m proud of you, Francisco.” 

Frankie’s head jerked backwards and he met his dad’s dark eyes, “Wh-what?” 

“Takes discipline,” he responded, nodding, “I’m proud of you. Your mom, she did a good job with you.”

And he wanted to say a million different things. He wanted to say thank you and I love you and I forgive you and I hate you and fuck you. He wanted to yell: No thanks to you, you drunk old bastard. You woman-beating fucking coward. A different part of him wanted to cry: Why did you abandon me? Why wasn’t I good enough? Am I good enough now?

But when he licked his lips and opened his mouth to respond, his dad shuffled off into the sad living room, changing the subject. 

Frankie shakes his head and sighs, then looks around the room, “When Angie got pregnant, I vowed I’d never be like him. I—I wanted to be there for my kid, to be better than he was to me, and give my child a better life than I had. 

“Ang and I don’t always, um… see eye-to-eye. We have our problems. I’m trying to make it work, but I’m just so,” the word catches in his throat and burns behind his eyes. He takes a deep breath, swallows, and admits, “I’m so scared it’s not going to work. And Ang will take her. And I’ll end up just like him.”

He clears his throat, then takes another wide, cleansing breath before starting again.

“The only things I’ve ever been any good at are being a soldier and being a dad,” he says, staring at the floor, “It’s hard enough only seeing her a few times a week right now. I fucking hate it. I hate not being there when she wakes up in the middle of the night with a nightmare, and not watching Happy Feet with her twice a day, and not cuddling on the couch with her in the morning,” his stomach clenches and he feels a swell of tears starting behind his eyes, but continues, “The only thing getting me through this right now is knowing that it’s temporary. But if it doesn’t work with Angie, and I lose Sarah, I lose fucking everything. And I—I fucking can’t do that. I won’t.”

Frankie buries his face in his hands and feels a sob bubble up his throat. The echo of his crying returns to his ears and he becomes acutely aware of the other people in the room. That hardened part of his brain scolds him, growling at him to fucking get it together. He pushes the chair out behind him and keeps his head down as he walks out of the room, muttering, “I need a minute.”

When your shitty old car pulls into the hotel parking lot, Frankie is still outside pacing, trying to gather the courage to go back inside and face the group. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and starts towards it. You furrow your brow at him through your cracked windshield. When he opens the car door and sits down, you ask, “Why aren’t you in there?”

“It’s fine,” he frowns and pulls his seatbelt over his chest, locking it in place, “Got out early.”

You narrow your eyes at him, then scoff, “Bullshit. What happened?”

“Nothing—”

“Oh my god, Frankie, come on,” you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, searching his face, “You’re all flustered right now—”

“I am not,” he protests.

“You’re such a liar, you are flus-tered,” you blink at him with authority, raising one eyebrow, “All jittery, and your eyes look red—did you cry? Is that it?”

It’s irritating how well you know him. 

He rolls his eyes and looks out the window, muttering against his fingers, “Can we just go?”

“It’s ok, you know, to cry,” you say quietly. 

His leg starts bouncing and his jaw gnashes from one side to the other.

Like you’re one to talk. 

Like you don’t go out of your way to hide from him every time tears pool in your eyes. 

“Hey,” you coo and tug on his hand. He lets you take it, interlacing his fingers with yours. The contact makes his heart skip a beat. When he looks over at you, your brows are threaded together, earnest eyes searching his face, “You’re not the first person to cry in AA, I promise. They’re there to support you. Give them a chance to help.” 

He glances up at the hotel’s exit and sees a few people from the meeting filing out, and shrugs, “It’s over now, anyways.”’

“Did you get your paper signed?” 

“No.”

“C’mon, at least get credit for your work,” you smirk, squeezing his hand, “I’m sure they’ll understand why you left.” 

He groans and scrubs a hand over his face, “Fine.” 

“Atta boy,” you grin, “Do you want me to come with or do you got this?”

“I got this,” he flashes a weak smile, and has to hold himself back from bringing the back of your hand to his lips. 

He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the vehicle, nodding at a few familiar faces as he makes his way back into the building to the conference room. 

In the room, a few people are putting away chairs or talking in small, quiet groups. David stands by the snack table, signing off on someone’s attendance form. Frankie lines up behind them and avoids David’s gaze when it’s his turn to hand over the attendance sheet. 

“That was really vulnerable, what you shared with us today,” David tells Frankie as he unfolds the form. 

His nostrils flare and he scoffs, “I thought I was supposed to share things.”

David frowns as he signs off on the paper, shaking his head, “It’s a compliment. Being vulnerable is good, and I appreciate your vulnerability.” 

“Oh,” Frankie shifts his weight to one leg and frowns, “Thanks.” 

“Yeah, of course,” David hands the form back, and when Frankie takes it, he can tell David is gearing up to say more. His face grows more solemn. He pushes the wire frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, “I know how conflicting it is being an alcoholic father with an alcoholic father. It’s hard to know if you’re doing the right thing. Being apart from them is hell, even if it’s when you’re doing something to make yourself better. I just wanted to let you know that I get it.” 

Frankie nods, searching the man’s face, “Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” David flashes a polite smile, then turns to the snack table and starts picking things up. 

When the two of you get home, Frankie goes into your bedroom to haul the TV back to its normal spot in the living room. 

He finds himself lingering at the foot of the bed, staring at the side he slept in last night. At the covers, still drawn back from when he woke for work this morning. At the stuffed panda bear you set in his place at some point today. 

My place. 

He needs to stop thinking like that. It’s not his place. It can’t be his place. 

Not permanently, anyway. 

Part of him feels guilty for not leaving once you fell asleep. Staying was pure self-indulgence, no matter how many times he tries to convince himself it was for your benefit. 

It can’t become a habit. 

But all weekend he wanted to hold you. To feel your beating heart and shallow, wheezy breath against his body. Proof that you were still here, after seeing you gasping for air, lips tinged blue, eyes wide with fear. 

In his life, he’s faced a lot of scary and uncertain situations. Situations that threatened his own life and that of people he cares about. But this… this was different. At least in combat scenarios, he had training and experience to guide him. 

This weekend he felt powerless. 

If he had to quantify the terror, he was at maximum capacity. Never been so fucking afraid in his life. He felt so helpless, he folded his hands and bowed his head at your hospital bedside, reaching out to something or someone in hushed whispers, pleading for your recovery. 

So, no, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone in your bed last night. Not when you fell asleep in his arms, your head on his chest, curled up at his side. 

The answer to his prayers. 

When he was sure you were sleeping, he pressed his lips to your forehead and told you what he’s only barely been able to admit to himself. 

In a million different ways, I’ve always loved you.

It was indulgent. Undisciplined. 

But mostly, it was a relief. 

Even if his words fell on your sleeping ears. 

Even if he can probably never tell you again. 

With a heavy sigh, he follows the TV’s power cord to the wall and unplugs it. He freezes when he spots something on the floor next to your dresser. You cough at the other end of the house, and he glances over his shoulder just to make sure you’re not around before he picks it up. 

A pile of soft teal lace. Your underwear. 

He brings them to his nose and inhales, the familiar scent inspiring a deep, heated churn at the base of his spine. Without another thought, he shoves them in the front pocket of his jeans, then unplugs the TV. 

Frankie settles on the couch with a groan, then glances over to where you’re curled up into a little ball and asks, “Were you able to get some rest today?”

You nod and your mouth stretches into a yawn, then you murmur, “Still kind of feel like shit, though. Hopefully it’s better by Wednesday.”

“Oh yeah, how’re your kids doing?” 

“Marla said they’re doing better, getting back to their normal selves. Em’s going back to school tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” he leans back and spreads out in his corner of the couch, “You like it, working for them?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, “They’re sweet kids. Whole different vibe than Sarah, though,” you glance at him and chuckle, “Don’t tell anybody, but she was my favorite.” 

A grin stretches across Frankie’s face. He presses his fingertips to his lips and looks over at you, “She is pretty great, huh?” 

“The best,” you agree, a wistful smile playing on your lips, “I hope that when I, um,“ you falter here, smile dropping. You clear your throat and shake your head, “Sorry, I lost my train of thought. Are you guys doing anything fun tomorrow?”

“Not sure yet. Angie, um… yeah, I don’t know,” he frowns at his knee as it starts to bounce, “She’s pissed at me. So probably, you know, dealing with that.”

“Because you skipped out on Saturday?”

He nods, and when you don’t say anything, he glances over at you, “It’s fine, though, she’ll get over it.”

“Sure,” you smirk, raising an eyebrow, “Have things been going ok outside of that?”

“Aside from the alcoholism, my pending felony, and the fact that I’m living with another woman?” he snorts, “Things are going great.” 

“Don’t forget the affair,” you tease. 

“Mmm, you mean the isolated incident?” he corrects, rolling his head on his shoulders to look at you. 

You scoff and shake your head, “Wow. Yeah, isolated. Sure. Just a mistake, right?” 

He searches your face, watching your eyes go dim and your jaw clench, and furrows his brow, “N-no, that’s not—“

You clamp your lips closed with your teeth, like you’re holding yourself back, then open your mouth anyway, “That’s what you tell her, though, right?” you blink, “It was a mistake, it meant nothing to you, it’ll never happen again, blah blah blah?”

His jaw hangs slack and throat croaks as he tries to yield some kind of truth that will both spare your feelings and help him evade scrutiny, “I’m—sorry.”

It’s all he can come up with. 

You roll your eyes and sigh, then mutter, “Whatever,” before turning your attention back to the TV. 

The silence that settles is tense. It writhes beneath his skin and trickles into his stomach, twisting it into knots. 

You start to wriggle in your seat, like it’s bothering you, too. He can feel a jagged energy rolling off your body, and, predictably, you break. 

“If you ever want things to actually work with her, you’re going to have to come clean,” you huff, then glare at him, “You know that right? That you can’t just lie to her forever? There’s no way she fucking believes you.”

Frankie sighs, picking his hat off his head to run a hand through his hair, “Can we not?”

“Sure, we can just not,” you snip and sit up straight, crossing your arms across your chest, “We can just pretend things are cool and groovy and you can get your life back and I can fuck off into oblivion.” 

“Jesus Christ—”

“Well, fuck, that’s what you want, right, Frankie?” you stare at him, “You’ll be nice to me while you’re here, and cuddle with me, and hold my hand, and what the fuck ever, but when this arrangement is over, then what?”

“I don’t fucking know, ok?!” he snaps, then stands and starts pacing the living room, shaking his head, “I don’t know if—if I’m going to fucking prison, or if I’m going to lose my job, or if my wife will fucking divorce me and take my daughter away—”

Frankie stops and turns away from you, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. A few quiet seconds go by as he gathers himself and wrangles the burgeoning tears back into his skull. When he turns back around, he throws his hands out at his side, then lets them fall loose, “I don’t know what anything will look like after this,” he meets your glossy eyes, all wide and pained, and tells you in a hoarse, shaky voice, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a fucking asshole to you for so long. I lied to you. I pushed you away. I fucking—I fucking hurt you and I understand that.”

He takes a few steps forward. Your eyes, pooling with tears, stay glued his, following seamlessly when he crouches down in front of you and pleads, “I’m trying to be better, I swear to god I’m fucking trying. I—I care about you a lot. And I’m sorry I can’t give you a better answer for what you and me will look like after this ‘situation’ is over with, because I have no fucking clue what anything will look like.” 

You swallow hard and nod, then drop your gaze as your face crumbles. A sob bubbles up your throat and quickly devolves into a coughing fit. 

“Ah, fuck,” he mutters, glancing around. He spots your inhaler on the coffee table and hands it to you, “Need this?”

You take it and inhale a few puffs of albuterol. When your breathing evens out, blink the tears from your eyes and croak out, “Sorry.” 

He reaches up and smudges a fat, swollen tear on your cheek with his thumb, “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

A pained expression crosses your face. You lean away from his touch, so he sits down beside you as you exhale a thick sigh and look around the room.

“I understand why you wouldn’t tell Angie everything. I just—” one of your cheeks pulls in like you’re gnawing at the inside. You release it and tell him, “I just hate the idea of you saying we were a mistake. I don’t know. Is that dumb?” 

Your eyes flick to his and they’re so sincere, his stomach flips upside down. He shakes his head, “No, that’s not dumb.” 

“Ok,” you sniffle, nodding as you look at the TV, “Ok.”

A minute goes by, each second amplifying the buzz beneath his skin. He looks over and realizes you’re squished against the armrest of the couch, curled up in a tense knot of limbs, brow furrowed, biting at your lip. 

“Hey,” he coos, beckoning you closer, “Come here.”

You give him this kind of pathetic, kind of cute pout, but accept the invitation. As he wraps an arm around your shoulders, you drape your legs across his lap, rest your head in the crook of his neck. He lays his cheek on the crown of your head and tucks you into an embrace. 

Maybe it’s one-sided, but Frankie feels heat humming between your bodies. 

The floral, minty scent of your hair, mixing with the musk of your soft skin, all dewy from humidity. Your breath rolling hot across the column of his throat. 

You wriggle closer, and the weight of your body settles between his legs. Presses firm down on his half-hard cock. 

His insides twist with a nagging, all-consuming want. The kind that usually fogs his brain when he thinks about booze. It claws at him like an animal caged within his ribs. Teeth bared, ferocious, growing: I need her I need her I need her

In the same cadence it always howls: I need a drink I need a drink I need a drink

The tips of his fingers scrape against your shoulder. A little whimper sneaks out your throat and drips down his spine. Your muscles shift and he can feel your lips hovering over his thudding pulse. 

This is dangerous. This is a line. A tightrope teetering beneath the soles of his feet. 

You breathe his name and it grazes his neck. His body surges with desire, cock throbbing, and he’s unable to stop the whine that croaks out his lips. 

He looks down at you, meeting your darkened, heavy-lidded gaze. You study each other, but neither of you move, despite the palpable current of electricity between you. 

“I—I should go to bed,” you whisper with little conviction, eyes darting to his mouth.

“It’s still light out,” he says, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. 

You shiver and your lips part, panting, “I need to clear my head—I’m… not thinking right.”

Frankie imagines you clearing your head in your bedroom with the door closed. Your fingers working between your legs, eyes pinched closed while you flip through the mental catalogue of all the times he’s fucked you. 

“Can I come with you?” he asks, voice ragged, “I won’t—I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

You search his face, brows pushing together, and nod. 

This is stupid. 

You both know it. 

But he follows you to your room and closes the door behind him. 

Sinks into your bed as you lay out on the other side. 

You start slow, hands roaming the curves of your body. Over your tight tank top, no bra underneath, just the clear outline of your nipples. Along the middle of those little cotton sleep shorts he likes so much. 

He keeps his distance, blood pounding thick in his skull, as you ruck your shirt up your chest and roll a hardened bud between your fingers. You whimper and bite down on your bottom lip, eyes locking to his as your other hand slips beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

In his periphery, he can see the outline of your wrist flicking under the fabric, but he can’t part his eyes from yours. It’s entrancing. Your mouth opens in a moan, lips pouting out into a whimper as you start to gain traction. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans, pushing his palm against his swollen length trapped within the confines of his jeans, begging for attention. He unbuckles his belt and tugs his pants off. At the same time, you pull your shorts down. Some sort of silent trade agreement.

Frankie wraps his hand around his cock and drags his grip down, pulling the sensitive, aching skin taught. His palm is dry and rough as he starts to rut up and down, but the friction gives his touch an edge that makes him shiver. 

You’re watching him do this while you trail your fingertips along the shiny ridges of your sex. Saliva pools in his mouth when he remembers what you taste like. Imagines his tongue tracing the soft folds of you.

Your hips buck and you whimper when you touch your clit. You roll the pads of your fingers against the engorged bundle of nerves, eyelids fluttering as you work yourself. 

You both find a steady rhythm, panting and whining, glancing between each other's legs, hands, eyes. The increasingly frantic movements make your bed squeak. 

The two of you are so lost in the haze of pleasure, Frankie knows either of you could suggest physical contact between your bodies and the other would immediately say yes, but this fucked up little loophole has you both blissfully dangling on the precipice. 

He’s trying to keep his commentary to a minimum, but you’re driving him fucking crazy. 

Your blown-out pupils watching him fuck his hand. The sheen of sweat lacing your skin. A thick, gleaming layer of arousal coating your pussy and fingers. He wants to lick it off of you, taste you, drive his cock inside you and feel that divine squeeze. 

As his heartbeat starts to gallop and the fire in his belly laps its way up his spine, he pants, “You’re so fucking hot, holy shit—do you like this? Like me watching you get off?”

“Yes,” you gasp, meeting his gaze, working yourself faster, “I do, Frankie, I like it.”

His name on your lips is like an electric jolt to his insides. He groans, “Say my name again.”

“Frankie,” you whimper. 

A wave of heat washes over him, “Fuck yes, that’s so fucking good, baby—say it again—”

“Frankie,” you moan, sinking two fingers into your cunt, a sick wet sound squelching out as you start to fuck yourself. 

“Such a good girl, holy fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, pumping himself faster, lightning churning in his belly, “Gonna make yourself cum, sweet girl?”

You nod feverishly, face pinched up with pleasure, hips arching into your touch, “Frankie—fuck fuck fuck—”

“There we go, baby, you can do it,” he rasps, and watches as your movements come to a fever pitch, then your body starts to shudder and you belt out this strangled moan that pushes him over the edge. 

Pleasure ripples through him and he grinds his fist down a few more times, pulsing his load all over his hand, across the bedding, a few splatters reaching your hip. He groans and slows.

His muscles start to melt. He throws his head back into the pillow, then rolls his head on his shoulders to look at you. 

Your chest is heaving and you’re all blissed out, a hazy smile on your lips. 

“You’re not gonna freak out, now, are you?” he pants, searching your face. He reaches over and gives you a playful poke to show he’s only half-joking. 

You meet his eyes smirking for a beat before you chuckle, “I don’t think so, but—could you get my, umm—inhaler?”

“Yeah,” he nods and rolls off the bed. 

When Frankie returns, you’re pulling your shirt down over your tits and propping yourself up on some pillows. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, then take it from him and inhale a few puffs. 

“You ok?” he asks as he rolls onto the bed next to you, wrestling a pillow under his chest. 

A coy smile plays on your lips when you glance over at him, shaking your head, “This was really dumb.”

He chuckles and shrugs, “Probably.” 

“Fuck,” you giggle, burying your face in your hands, “Frankie, why did we do that?”

“Because we’re big dumb idiots?” he laughs. 

“Speak for yourself,” you snort, curling up on your side to face him. 

“Sure, yeah, of course. You’re super smart,” he teases, pointing between him and you, “This is definitely something that smart people do.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you push his shoulder weakly. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you say, “We’re never going to speak of this again, are we?” 

He opens his mouth to make a joke and attempt to sweep it all under the rug, but stops when he realizes it probably warrants a conversation. 

“Do—is that what you wanna do?” he asks instead, stammering, “Because we can, you know, talk about it if you want to.“

“I don’t know what I want,” you sigh, your face folding into a thoughtful expression. A few moments pass, then your eyebrows shoot up and you look at him, “Ok, this is a weird time to ask this, but, I meant to ask you earlier and forgot.”

He nods, “Shoot.”

“My sister is getting married over Labor Day weekend, and because I’m her bridesmaid and family and blah blah blah, she wants me to go stay out there for the week, and umm, I don’t know how that works with your parole and stuff—”

“Do you want me to ask Ralph tomorrow?” 

“Well, yeah,” you meet his eyes, “But—but also, can you come with me?”

It takes a moment for Frankie to register the question, and when he understands, his mind starts whirring with uncertainty. Angie. Court. Ralph. Sarah. Prison. 

“Not, like, as my date or whatever,” you add, waving your hand around nervously as you explain, “I just–I haven’t been home in years because my family is the worst and I—” you sigh, face pinching up as you admit, “I could use a friend.” 

That makes up his mind. 

“Yeah,” he answers, “Yeah, as long as I’m not in fucking jail by then, I’ll make it work. Let me… let me talk to work and Ralph, see what I can do.” 

You give him a restrained smile and say, “Thank you.” 

After the two of you decide to get dressed and watch a movie, he goes into his bedroom to change into a pair of basketball shorts, while you supervise a packet of popcorn in the microwave. Giving his closed door a quick glance, he pulls the bundle of soft teal lace out of his pocket and opens a dresser drawer to tuck them away, but pauses when his thumb grazes something damp. 

His brows furrow, then shoot up as he unfolds the underwear and recognizes the slick substance coating them. He brings the fabric to his nose and inhales, confirming his suspicion. 

You must have noticed them when he was getting your inhaler. And rather than taking the panties back, or saying anything to him, you cleaned your arousal off and replaced them. 

He grins at the present, because that’s what it is, really, then shoves the lace into his dresser drawer. 

“Daddy, look, that’s Mumble,” Sarah tells Frankie, pointing one chubby, blueberry-stained finger at a plastic baby emperor penguin. 

Her collection of penguins is lined up on the edge of the dining room table, in order of smallest to biggest. She wriggles around on his lap, looking up at him with those big brown eyes, waiting for acknowledgement. 

“That one does look like Mumble,” he agrees emphatically, “What kind of penguin is he?” 

“A empreror penguin!” she beams, throwing her hands in the air. 

“That’s right,” he chuckles, “An emperor penguin! How many penguins do you have?”

Sarah’s eyes light up at the exciting new challenge, and she turns her attention to the plastic figurine lineup, counting each one out loud. 

Frankie glances across the table at Angie. She‘s glaring out the window, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Ang,” he rumbles, but she doesn’t respond. A hot wave of frustration weaves through his muscles and pulls them taught. His nostrils flare and he shakes his head, muttering, “Whatever.”

The dining room chair scrapes against the floor as she pushes it out and stomps out of the room, down the stairs like a petulant child. 

Sarah stops counting and tells him, “Mommy’s mad.”

He chuckles softly at this and nods, “Yeah, I think so. I’m gonna go talk to her, ok, sweetie?”

Sarah resumes her counting when Frankie stands and sets her in the chair. He finds Angie in the laundry room, folding clothes with sharp, agitated movements. 

“Can we talk about this?” he asks. She doesn’t acknowledge him, so he continues, “Angelica. Come on. You haven’t said a word to me since I texted you on Saturday. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“The fact that you don’t know what’s wrong is exactly what’s fucking wrong, Francisco,” she growls.

He sighs and steps closer, leaning one hip against the washer, “As much as I would love to be able to, I can’t read your mind. So if you could help me out, maybe give me a clue—”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” she snaps, tossing the small pink t-shirt in her hands into a laundry basket.

His head jerks back and he scoffs, “Sure.”

“You passed up time with your wife and daughter to be with your fucking mistress,” she blinks, then throws her hands up in the air, “Is it really so fucking inconceivable that I’m mad about that?” 

“First of all, she’s not my mistress,” Frankie asserts, crossing his arms, “Second, she almost fucking died, Ang, I couldn’t just leave her alone in the hospital.” 

“So, what, she didn’t have anyone else that could come sit with her in the hospital?” Angie snorts, raising an eyebrow, “I was about to say she’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself, but,” she sucks on her teeth and flashes him a faux sympathetic smile, “That’s barely true, isn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, rolling his eyes, then stares at her, “You know that’s not true, and—and no, ok? She didn’t have anyone else to sit at the hospital with her. None of her family made it out, she doesn’t have any friends. Her boyfriend didn’t even come to visit, so,” he pushes off the washing machine and pinches the bridge of his nose, then drops his hand and lies, “I felt fucking bad for her, that’s all. She couldn’t breathe and was all sick and shit, and nobody cared enough to visit her. It was, I don’t know, it was sad and I felt shitty about leaving.”

She seems to consider this, then gives a little shrug, “That is kind of sad.”

He nods, searching her face, dark eyebrows all scrunched together in contemplation. 

“She has a boyfriend?”

He nods, “Yeah. They’ve been together for a while.”

Not exactly a lie, but he can tell a little truth stretching will bring this conversation to a more comfortable place. 

“I missed you,” he says in a pleading tone, meeting her eyes, hoping she buys it. 

She sighs, “I missed you too.”

The glint in her eyes tells him it’s safe to approach, so he does. He presses his lips against her forehead, closing his eyes as he murmurs, “I love you.”

When Frankie gets home, you and Rory are sitting on the couch watching a movie together. His arm is draped over your shoulders and you’re huddled in his lap, head on his chest. 

It reminds him of how the two of you are when no one else is around. 

His blood pressure spikes and heats his veins. You perk up as you notice him, putting space between your body and Rory’s. A nervous smile spreads across your face. He doesn’t return the smile, just nods in greeting as he closes the door behind him, “Hey.”

Rory looks him up and down, then turns back to the TV. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” you ask. 

Frankie frowns and shrugs, “Fine. What’re you guys watching?”

Your phone starts ringing before you can answer. You sit up and grab it off the coffee table, muttering, “It’s my sister, I’ll be right back,” then tiptoe through the house to your bedroom, leaving him and Rory alone. 

Frankie steps on the heel of his boot and starts to wriggle his foot free. 

“Hey, man, I wanted to tell you—thanks for looking after her last weekend.”

Frankie glances up at Rory as he kicks one boot off, then the other, “Sure, yeah,” then starts off towards his room. Rory keeps talking, though, so he pauses. 

“When she didn’t respond to me for a day I figured, ya know…” he shrugs, staring at him. 

Frankie frowns and shakes his head, “Figured what?”

“Figured she ran off with you, man,” he chuckles, but his eyes aren’t smiling. They’re studying. 

Frankie snorts and brings his hands to his hips, “What, really?”

Rory stands and saunters over, looking the way you left to make sure you’re still occupied, then tucks his hands in the front of his jean pockets and shrugs again, “Seems like y’all are pretty close. She doesn’t really like to talk about you. Kinda weird for someone who’s supposedly a friend.”

What kind of macho man bullshit is this? Is he… flexing? 

“Yeah, she’s pretty private,” Frankie searches the other man’s face. 

“Y’all ever fuck around?” he asks. 

Frankie jerks his head back and frowns, “Uhh, sorry, what?”

Rory doesn’t say anything, just lets the air between them grow more hostile, flicking his eyes around Frankie’s face like a challenge. One that he’s not fucking interested in taking. Christ, what a fucking mess that would be. 

Frankie scoffs and shakes his head, “No, we don’t fuck around. We’re friends. Ok?” He holds his hands up and tries to soften his face, “So, take it easy, she’s all yours.” 

Rory seems to relax a little, then says, “Alright.”

“Alright,” Frankie chuckles with amusement, “We good?” 

“Yeah,” Rory grins, offering a clenched fist to Frankie, “Sorry, man.” 

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” he bumps knuckles with the meathead and tells him, “You two have a good time, alright?”

Frankie retreats to his room and locks the door behind him. 

Every muscle in his body starts to deflate. 

His thoughts are fuzzy and loud. 

He starts for his bed, but pauses, and turns instead to the dresser, thinking of that teal lace. 

Today is one of those rare July days where it’s not just tolerable to be outside, it’s actually enjoyable. 

A slight breeze rustles the palm fronds above. The sun kisses Frankie’s skin. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of a neighbor’s charcoal grill. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He cracks an eye open to find you standing over where he’s laying in the hammock and grins innocently, “What?”

“WhAt?” you mock him and snort, but pull up a chair and drop your little wicker basket in its seat, warning, “Ok, well, you’re sharing the hammock, at least.” 

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” he tucks a hand behind his head and watches you roll into the hammock facing him.

You wriggle around for an entire minute, and when he starts to giggle at your restlessness, you whine, “Oh my god, scoot over.”

“Here,” he murmurs, shifting his weight so you lay roughly hip to hip, hooking one arm under your legs, “Better?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your body calms. 

Then it’s quiet. 

And the silence isn’t anything but peaceful, really. 

“This is good,” you say eventually. 

He’s not sure what this you’re referring to, but he agrees, “Yeah.”

You point to the sky, “That cloud looks like a gator.”

Frankie squints upward, examining the fluffy cotton balls hanging in the electric blue atmosphere, “That one looks like a cloud.”

A snort erupts from your face and you lay a playful smack on his thigh, “Oh, come on, use your imagination!”

“Ok, let’s see,” he clears his throat and tilts the bill of his hat back to take in more of the view. Then one catches his eye. He points to it, “Butterfly.”

You follow his direction and murmur, “Oh yeah, look at that. Neat.” 

He studies it for a while, watching the two wings tumble and morph as it moves across the sky, until it’s just another nondescript cumulus cloud. Then he turns his attention to the basket you brought outside. 

The hammock wobbles in protest when he sits up and lays it across the middle ground of your bodies. Frankie surveys the contents of the shallow wicker basket: a baguette; a dish of soft, white cheese with a little spatula-like knife sticking out the center; a bowl of red grapes and sliced strawberries; a couple of mandarin oranges. 

He rips off a piece of bread and spreads some cheese across the soft inside, then sits back and takes a bite. You do the same, topping the cheese with some strawberries. As the two of you eat in a content silence, looking up at the sky, Frankie starts to ruminate on the confrontation that is surely lingering on the tip of your tongue. 

Neither of you have dared to mention how you got off together in your bed. Surprisingly, it hasn’t changed the energy between him and you. But he’s found himself wondering if he’s just oblivious and unable to sense your disquiet, like he has in the past. 

And now, since it’s Family Dinner, State of the Union, or whatever Ralph calls it, he braces himself for impact.

“Alright, let me have it,” he says after he finishes his second chunk of bread, nerves getting the best of him, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

The hammock shifts unsteadily as you sit up and put the basket back on the chair, then you lay back and stretch out, releasing a heavy sigh, “Honestly… I kind of don’t know what to say about it. I—I don’t know. I don’t feel different or have any kind of strong feelings about what happened.”

Frankie hums and looks over at you, watching your serene, skyward face. 

“What about you? How do you feel?” you ask, leveling your gaze with his. 

“I feel… the same,” he answers, frowning, “Like I should have a strong feeling, but I—I just don’t?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, shrugging, “Well, I don’t know, should we just… leave it?” 

Relief washes over him and he nods, “I’m ok with that if you are.”

“Ok,” you grin, then look back up at the sky, “Anything else you need to get off your chest?” 

Frankie rifles through his brain, pausing to think about Rory and the odd confrontation that happened the other day. It left a bad taste in his mouth. But, he shakes his head, “No. You?” 

“I can’t think of anything.” 

“Alright,” he inhales the blissful breeze that tickles his sun-warmed skin, then exhales, repeating your earlier sentiment, “This is good.”

[ Next Chapter ]

[doginasillyhat]

just found out that omo is specifically wetting things and not general piss 😭😭😭😭

hopefully it isn't weird to ask if u have any other piss related interests/ideas ?????? i am occasionally haunted by the fantasy of being pissed on but im also never going to be ready to unpack that lmao

idr if you've mentioned before or not but do u have any thoughts about/plans for combined kink content? like omo-hic crossover or do u see them separately (idk words)

OMG an excuse to talk about piss! yay!!! i’m gonna talk about pee and also hics so if u come across this from one or the other and u don’t wanna hear abt it im sorry just scroll ❤️

anyway. i love humiliation and embarrassment. that’s really the root of my enjoyment for both kinks. i don’t talk about omo here as much as i do hiccups because the omo community is much larger and thus intimidating, but it’s actually my number 1.

because i enjoy seeing someone else in the situation i don’t find enjoyment in my own piss, like holding or wetting or anything, but someone else doing those?? AWOOGA!!! wetting oneself is probably my favourite ever (whether that be accidentally or because of holding). favourite scenarios definitely include struggling to hold one’s bladder in a public setting. someone also being turned on by their OWN holding or wetting are also so hot in a, like, voyeuristic way. i don’t think i’d ever get myself into a situation like this, but god i’d go nuts over someone letting me piss on them.

the idea of being in control of someone’s bladder, telling someone when and where they can go? oh god that’s so hot and not something i should be thinking about on a public train lest i get so horny i lose consciousness

i can go more into depth into my piss fantasising, and maybe i will when im not travelling in public

most of all i tend to keep hics and piss separate? not because i intended that but just because in my mind i compartmentalise it for some reason. i do have a few concepts for hiccups leading to wetting oneself? drinking too much -> getting hiccups -> too much liquid in the bladder so you piss yourself. something like that cause and effect. or i’d like to write something really self indulgent of characters with the complimentary kinks (a likes piss and b has just wet themself, b likes hiccups and a is currently afflicted) but i don’t know if i could write something THAT stimulating for myself without needing a vibrator break or just getting so flustered i can’t finish it 💀

i do have ideas though! now that classes have been abandoned for the year i have more free time to do writing. and im excited to write some more for both!

kinda rambled i hope i actually answered what u were asking lmao

[fire-but-ashes-too]

(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all their other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ synesthetic bitch

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life :D

[goldenbloodytears]

Do u think Danny would be okay with having his SO be his partner in crime. I feel like it really depends but I think he would be open to it as long as like he was still the one calling the shots you get me? Been thinking about this one all day 😭

An ask in my ask box! Oh boy! Thanks Anon :) So this is actually a concept I've been toying with for a while in relation to the magnum opus fanfic I've had brewing in my head for five years. Gonna put a read more since this got long thanks to my rambling; warning for brief mention of partner murder.

Edit: changed some wording for clarity.

I don't think he would react well to an SO knowing his secret in a regular situation unless he was dead certain this person isn't going to betray him. So, obviously, becoming his partner in crime is going to involve blackmail. If his SO accidentally or purposefully kills somebody? Does some other crime or horrible thing they don't want revealed? That's going to be used. I think there's also just the inherent threat of personal harm... But I don't see him doing that unless pushed into the situation--I think if something did result in the death of the SO he would be sad about it... like very angry sad. Look what you made me do kinda. Like somebody just took a toy away from him. I don't really subscribe to yandere style headcanons for him personally, but I definitely think he is possessive.

Anyways back to my point... I think Danny would enjoy having somebody know. I think it must be lonely and a little isolating the way he lives... and humans are social creatures.

I think when it comes to his SO acting as a partner in crime, doing murders... my personal headcanon on the matter is he's... rather into it? I don't think he would go out of his way to influence somebody into murder/violence (what is he? his old man? lol) but I think there's a kind of... appreciation for a display of strength like that. Even if it was an accident. He's gonna clean the blood of them and it's the most sensual experience he's ever had--his head is gonna SPIN! I actually think he would be completely caught by surprise, like discovering a kink you didn't know you had (I mean that's exactly what it is, let's be real) He's been formed into this person to be okay with violence and it's not something he really gets to share/experience with people. He's not a veteran so he can't share "war stories" of his experiences, the closest he would get to this kind of thing for the average person is maybe hunting... but there's a keen difference in hunting a human than, say, a deer? I think having an SO as a partner in crime would be... like toxic good for him... I'm assuming the SO is a willing partner in crime. I can see him really enjoying somebody gassing up his ego (totally tempted to make a Harley/Joker comparison here). HOWEVER, I do think he would be an absolute pain in the ass about his works, his stories... I don't see him sharing Ghost Face with somebody, so it would be convincing him to either change gears to something else, or putting up with that.

One change I could see happening is having the SO, if they have writing chops or come from a journalism background, taking over the paper-writing/reporting aspect. The original background in-game (not the tome) mentions that some of the articles he's kept were not written by him, so as much as I feel like this is still an imperative part of his modus operandi, it's clear he still takes a nice fat dopamine hit for the sake of his ego from other people writing about him too... and therefore I could see him being flexible with it, because if the SO is his partner in crime, he can still influence what they write--he just doesn't have to work double shifts anymore LOL

Is it too cracked up to make a joke about Danny and his partner-in-crime SO getting a house in some random town and posing as a totally normal man and his spouse by day but then murdering people by night? IDK you decide. I'm kinda just picturing that one song by the Mountain Goats.

[alaydabug2]

I'm in the car and I'm bored en

SO HERES A LIST OF MY MEDICAL ISSUES IVE HAD THROUGHOUT LIFE 😃

Vaugly related to my fanfic

Tetrology of Fallot (tof): congenital (born with it) heart defect that is basically 4 defects in 1 (I do not have the energy to look up or type all those scientific words rn so sorry)

I've had 3 open heart surgeries to fix it o e at 8 days 10 months and 5 years

Died 6 times on the second one 😃

Ngl life isn't too different with it

If you don't count the yearly doctor visits and can't play contact sports

I mean there's more to it that that obviously but it's mainly small things like getting out of breath quicker and I bruise easy because of having to take baby asprin

BUT the doctors ORIGINALLY said I was never gonna be able to walk or talk or do anything for myself

God vetoed that decision 😌

NOW I NEVER SHUT UP 😁

Got a nifty battle scar down my chest as a souvenir ☺️

And I used to be called smurf baby cause I turned blue alot

I make jokes about it now (hush I'm allowed to )

Ngl pretty sure I'm short cause failure to thrive as a baby cause of that 😭

Don't think there's any scientific backing on that tho for tof patients

Imperferated anus + colostomy bag: basically means I was born without a butthole

Not even joking on that i wasnt

But had to have three gastrointestinal surgeries from that

Don't know the ages or many details but I'm pretty sure I was two for the last one

And I had to have a colostomy bag

Thankfully don't remember it

Buy my waste went into a bag that had to be changed out

Ik it got infected so the scar is bugger than it should be

Seizures: if you've read my fanfic that's explained in detail for how it feels

But that was from aged 5-10

We never found the specific reasons for it

But we do hypothesize it has something tk do with possible scar tissue on my brain

Either from a heart attack/stroke/lack of oxygen from my second heart surgery is what we think it could be from

During a seizure my heart would start beating weird (not good description ik but idk how to describe it really) and my vision would start to tunnel out my tongue would tingle and then I'd black out

During a seizure I couldn't hear anything or see anything but my head would completely start to tingle

From my parents I was told during them I would stiffen up and lock my joints and almost seem to hyperventilate

It was control moderately well by medicine but I thankfully do not have them anymore

Hard hearing: im not like deaf or anything nor do I use hearing aids but my hearing isn't what it should be for a normal teenager lol

This is because during one of my heart surgeries they gave me a drug used on horses and a little too much if it at that (ketamine?)

Legally blind: yeah come to find out last year found out my eye sight is actual crap

Without my glasses I am legally blind

I've got 20/200 vision 😭

So I've got these crazy thick glasses now

Tourretts: neurological disorder where I make these random noises and movents

Got diagnosed back in sixth grade

My tics ate ill make various sounding noises (all kinda of variations of a hiccup for visualization) and my head will jerk back

It was awful before we found out what it was

Got picked on for it quite a bit and a certain teacher of mine essentially told me "just stop bro lol" and I'd get sent out of class for it even after we had doctor notes for it

Just get up out of that wheel chair then then buddy ☺️

They'd get set off my certain things

Music being one of them so I would carry around these earbuds when there was music around so it didn't get set off

I'm on medicine now for it and it's a LOT better

And a recent development (in the past 6 months) I've been able to listen to music again!

The tourretts aren't going away tho

If over been without medicine for more than 2 days it's BAD

Ovarian cyst (possible pcos?) : this has happened over this summer so you already got some rants on that lol

Buy I've got an 8cm cyst on my left ovary

Hurts like a beach 😃

In fact this Friday I was holed up in my room hyped up on narcotics cause of it

Fun stuff 🙂

Surgery is supposed to be on October 5th so we'll see how that goes

Yeah so medical history of mine 😃

That's fine

We'll see what comes next to the collection I can add

Also here's some pics of a couple of my scars (that I can show several are in places I'm not keen of people seeing 😅)

That's my colostomy scar

And near the top you can see a scar from a chest tube from my third heart surgery

And here's a really good picture of my heart surgery scar that I have (goes down to under the ribcage)

On my neck you can see a breathing tube scar

At least I think that's what it is

Also the corner of my lip I have a scar from some sort of tube from surgery (can't see it well on camera

Tbh idk what half these tiny scars are from

I just know they're remnants of surgery

Any way I do know kw I have a couple of other chest tube scars

But they are not in places to be shown

Same with a few dimples near my tail bone from gastrointestinal surgery

But those are there too

[peachywritesstuff]

Imma say my thoughts/opinions on the situation and then imma bounce off of tumblr for a hot minute.

First thing I would like to say is that I am staying NEUTRAL. GRAY.SWITZERLAND. IN.THE.MIDDLE. and my thoughts will explain WHY I am remaing neutral. I am not someone who is faking just so I can secretly defend Percy.THAT IS NOT THE CASE!!!

#1. The slur

It's pretty obvious that he said it's clear as a blue sky. I frankly don't know the c-word or know what it means but I have learned that is somthing revolving around Canada and how it's very normalized to say which is sad.

#2. The r- /sa allegations

I am going to try my best to be sensitive as possible with my words with this part.This is where I am very lost. 1. I saw someone say (dont remember who) that dates don't matter when they come to victims coming out with sa or r- but they do. Especially if its a celebrity. This isn't just regular twitter drama this is something very serious that has a lot of 'evidence' (I will explain why I put that in air quotes) And at this rate authorites have(or will) already gotten involved and if this goes into to court they will ask for dates this occurred and if they can't be properly backed up that lead to something else like defamation. No amount of times I re-read all the tweets with all the pictures and text messages will make me feel any less lost. Yes everything is there and it makes Percy look like a very bad person but at the same time....it's all so blended together?? Idk how to explain it. Some of the text messages that i have seen is to fumbled and mushed together like I'm lost with all the ages this happened and apparently Canada has the 5 year law relating to minors???

#3. The nudes

Some of them honestly look like he took them when he himself was a minor which kinda sucks for everybody else who had been spreading his nudes (actual nudes) everywhere on Twitter. Still doesn't make it ok for him to send them to minors ( allegedly)it ALSO doesnt make it ok to release his all over the internet. Because that looks bad for the people spreading them becuase 1. Someone from Percy's team is watching. Do yall not think they are ignoring this? With so much out already I highly doubt they are. They will find people spreading his nudes around just because no words have been spoken to us doesn't mean nothing is happening. And if I wanna butt in this part the ones with him on the toilet and bed honestly look like some teenage boy doing something stupid. However we don't know the context behind those nudes just one where he took a shit at his new apartment (which that one really looks like he was being really stupid but who uses the bathroom naked?????)

#4. Him staying silent is guilt.

This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. He isn't saying anything until he has a lawyer and his team can make up a proper statement. That situation is out of his hands now he no longer has control over his social media.

#5. The 'Evidence'

I will explain why i put evidence in quotations. Half of the evidence is coming from anonymous,and faceless accounts which will be useless in court becuase they cannot verify if they already have them printed out they cannot know who wrote those allegations. If they find the person who wrote those allegations this is a chance they dont want to testify and if those people are real or not. Being a faceless account in a situation like this is kind of iffy but I can get why you don't want people to know you said that stuff. The evidence keeps changing every hour and one minute is this but then actually it's this or wait it's that.

I am trying to think from the pov of the victims and I would honestly be terrified of thousands of people coming at me asking all types of questions but everything is all over the place. The right thing for the victims to do is to step away from social media, sit down and organize everything and make sure everything they have can fall back on something. What is on Twitter is just..... evidence thrown up together.

#6.the vicims

I have been looking on Twitter and learned the victims are acting....odd? Not all of them. One of them made a tiktok about how they canceled a Netflix star in 9 days into 2023 and another one commented "yeah we did that". Idk about yall but that's weird. Sounds like their flexing??? You don't flex about a rapist. Especially with what they did to you.

Next, one of them threaten another person saying she will find where she live and for her saftey she better leave her alone. But then she tweets how she was going to (legally) do it but they messages she sent to the girl was coming off very threatening. She wasn't threatening to kill idk why people are thinking that but she was threatening the girl and she was obviously going to do something. She claims the person was spaming her but the person supposedly spaming her said she was just saying Percy was innocent. Idk if she said that in one text or multiple. I get how she was angry I really do but the way she pharsed it only made herself look more bad.

Third, the same girl(victim) from the pervious paragraph has tweeted in the past about Wednesday and has talked about it not about Percy,but about Wednesday and her mothers relationship. What confuses me is that he has (allegedly) r-/sa this girl but she proceeds to watch the show he has a decent amount of scenes in? Then, according to one of the tweets,20h before the allegations rose she was tweeting about how she gets told she looks like a lot like Wednesday. Idk could be a coincidence, could not be. WE DO NOT KNOW.

#7. Time

It has not been a fully 47 hours since this stuff came out. People are automatically expecting a response from Percy is beyond delusional. I think we all woke up to this so and had a chaotic morning (ik I did) he can not defend himself yet because of his legal team possibly taking over his socials. It will be awhile until we hear something which is why the good half of people are waiting for his side to come out before deciding futher of their place on the situation. I know everybody is waiting impatiently but it's gonna be a while.

#8. Throwing the r word around.

I don't like how everyone is throwing that word around. Calling people who try to remain neutral apologist r- and saying that to basically anyone who wants to think logically. First off nothing has been proved he done anything. Don't be fooled I am equally as disgusted as you are but this is all coming from Twitter. Yes the victims had no where else to go because they went to the police and they did nothing but this is all coming from twitter. No spare videos of anything but him saying the slur,just screenshots and words. We don't even know if the evidence can be used in court guys.

I'm trying to be logical about the whole thing,and I am pointing out stuff that has stook out to me. After this I am keeping my mouth shut and watching from the sidelines.

There is so much more I want to say but it's almost 1am where I am at and I'm tired. If the allegations are true my heart goes out to the victims. If it's not,then even more hell is gonna break loose. Until we can see Percy's side there is nothing else we can do but wait. I am just so sad about this whole thing and wish that everything isn't true but it's really not looking good for him. Only time will tell with this. I hope my way of saying things did not offend any of you and if they did I am truly sorry. I'm taking a risk and leaving my messages opened but please tell me your opinions kindly. I have told mine with minimal to no violence I would like to have the same option when expressing yalls with me.

The last thing I will say is that Twitter is a mess. Idk what to believe anymore. Stuff keeps changing and it gets more confusing. This all just needs to be settled outside of Twitter. I'm sad the victims had to resort to this route but everything is a mess and it's too confusing and I won't believe or side with anyone until an official statement is out. Not something from Twitter.

Hope yall have a good day or night guys :) make sure yall eat well and drank some water. To my followers, idk if I will be back to posting maybe I will maybe I won't ,Xavier Thorpe was quite the reason I started back writing and with him gone all of that motivation is just gone now. I'm sorry to yall becuas I feel like I disappointed yall cuz all fo you were looking forward to my stuff but until futher notice, I will be off of Twitter,and semi off of Tumblr.

Peaches Out ✌🏽❤️

[reverthestarryeyed]

An oc I've been thinking about for 20 seconds

So his surname is Bunshi (分子) and his first name is Sochi (早質)

(I used Google translate so forgive me if this isn't correct, I also have no idea what his last name should be so I just put "molecules" do give suggestions on what his last name should be)

Appearance - I tried drawing his hair to look like an upside down flame, but the hair doesn't really look right to me, idk why. He's not related to the Todoroki family whatsoever but I made him have fire related powers and used Shoto's head as a base as a joke because I want him and Shoot to bond over the fact Shoto's first words to Sochi were "Are my father's secret love child or something? Because I can definitely see my father conceiving with another woman despite already being married. I've always wanted a twin brother so I wouldn't be the only youngest". He also dyed his hair to have red tips because of course Endeavor is someone he idolizes due to having similar Quirks.

He goes to a different school (I'm calling it Ijin Highschool) so his uniform is different. For his School uniform I'm thinking his school dresses up like old school classic superheroes, like cape, emblem on chest, cloves, boots, belt, etc. in red, blue, yellow and black as homage to the original (fictional) heroes that inspired to make real ones (I tried drawing it but nope, it did not come out right 😛)

I kinda took inspiration from Batman, Superman and Wolverine a little, but apparently no, I think it's too much. I'm not exactly good at shading so I just tried filling in the blanks, I'm not even sure if the cape should be long or not.

His school actually gives the costume some functions, like the cape can solidify to a shield and is also fire proof and bullet proof (among other things), and the belt has self-defense weapons, the students can even make/add their own and many more functions.

His hero outfit: His hero costume is made out of a special material that's heat and abrasive resistant (think of the Flash's suit from the Arrowverse). It's made so when Sochi uses his powers he won't accidentally burn himself.

I'm also thinking of giving him a helmet thing so he can try using his Quirk on himself to give him super speed without burning himself. And also gloves because they look cool.

(I tried drawing jeans but black is hard to draw 😛)

i kinda took inspiration from this, I have a weird obsession with these types of coats

Personality - He doesn't wanna hurt anyone, he promised not to, but don't mistake that for pacifism. He's the type of guy that, when being blocked by an obstacle, would beat the obstacle until it isn't there anymore.

Contradicting that; He isn't violent either, he can also be awkward, like teenage awkwardness. He's also shy around talking to new people, he's spent around 3-4 years without talking to new people that he forgot how to, so he appreciates it when someone makes the first move.

When he's with friends or on the internet he's very outgoing, loud and social.

(if you couldn't tell I put minimal effort on the personality, I didn't think too much on his personality)

Quirk - Matter acceleration: He's able to create fire but not just "make fire" or even increasing temperature. He literally speeds up matter to the point they're burning, it's just easier to do it with air (that's how it works, right?) because of it's molecular structure.

I know "speed up matter to the point they're burning" is the literal definition of increasing temperature but it's different compared to Endeavor, Dabi and Shoto since they actually generate fire from their body. Sochi on the other hand is speeding up matter which makes things hotter by a side effect but also does other things. Sochi could theoretically shoot a bullet simply by flicking his fingers by adding more energy to it, a regular pyrokinetic/pyromancer like some of the Todoroki's could not.

Trivia

His favorite snack is ice cream. It helps him "cool down"

His first name Sochi contains the kanji "to accelerate" (早 So) and "substance, quality, matter, temperament" (質 chi)

His original design was going to be very weird, for some reason my imagination made him look just like Shoto except he didn't have a scar, and his hair would be the same shape except it would've been white with red tips and the tips of his hair were going to be a very weird trapezoid

Sochi wanted his hero costume to originally look similar to Endeavor, but after getting harassed for his "inappropriate clothing" he decided to change it and took inspiration from a villain instead

His outfit was a full bodysuit so I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks on why people thought it was "inappropriate"

The villain inspired outfit was going to be his second option if he didn't like his first option

Sochi really likes villains and loves to research on them for hours on end, he's like Deku but with villains instead

His favorite food is junk food, burgers, fried chicken, spaghetti, fries, etc.

His favorite sport is swimming

I took slight inspiration from Iceman from X-Men and Charlie from Firestarter

Sochi inherited his Quirk from his father (I swear gaining a Quirk from 1 parent instead of a combination of both is rare in MHA with how little of it is shown, if there are any at all)

Sochi mostly uses his quirk to create fire since it's easier (as I've said before) so he chose a hero name that's fire related (I'm not exactly sure what to call him I'm thinking either Torch, Fireraiser or Firesetter since they all mean "arsonist", yeah there isn't a lot of names that's fire related that isn't related to arson 😑 though Hearth also could be an option but idk 🤔)

Sochi actually met Dabi when he was 12, he thought he was a pretty cool guy despite looking like he got bruised so hard it didn't heal. They did have a sparring match/contest together to see who's the better fire wielder, which is one of the reasons Sochi stopped training to speed up objects and instead create fire

I also kinda wanna add a little detail that his hair would blow upwards when using his Quirk due to the heat causing the surrounding air to rise (and also because it would look like fire intensifying) but I feel like that'd be copying Firestarter 😅

[ozrockbitway]

If it's not a bother to ask but do you have any like character headcannon's for older characters and new characters in Cfv?

(sorry if I'm bothering or anything.)

dont worry you're good!! idk what characters you wana hear from me so I will just. grab some favs. holds them at you.

OG

Ren - He's like...some wealthy rich kid. I like to think he's an heir and supposed to inherit some company but he's never taken the thing seriously. He'll never talk about his family tho, mostly his dad, his mother left him and Ren doesn't remember her.

tbh I don't think anyone knows he's like rich lol. Maybe Asaka and Tetsu but he doesn't really act the type?? Maybe he throws money around...at cards mostly but man does not live that lavish lifestyle.

Probably gets cut off some funds when he's an adult but idk I can see him saving money or finding a way to have cash so he's p set doing...whatever it is he does as an adult (pre branch chief).

I joked once that he could probably get away with working anywhere and I kinda believe it?? Man says he works here and can play it off like nothing but only works one day and is never seen again...

Would randomly crash into his homies places in the middle of the night. You're sleeping? No problem. Ren is there, maybe grabbing something from the fridge before sleeping on the couch or the bed. It's impossible to Ren proof your home.

Asshole would 100% pick a random box from a cardshop and it has the most expensive Shadow Paladin card in it. Doesn't even need Psyqualia this just happens naturally.

Aichi - He's good with speaking other languages like...he knows the words/phrases/whatever to say but thinking isn't the same as speaking. So he usually trips over his words. Can translate very well just give him a sec so he doesn't mess up words.

100% a lil bookworm. Didn't have a lot of friends in his youth so he turned to books. That was like his escape fantasy along with thinking of Vanguard.

No matter how much more confident he is in his older years...he still struggles with public speaking. Please don't make him go up and talk to the crowd...he's so nervous...

Likes to send Emi and his mom gifts!! Little things from traveling. Would send Emi ocean/mermaid related things and I think in a note somewhere his mom plays Vanguard too (I think it was something to do with hot men?? let it be touken ranbu...) he'll send her things related to what she plays and just whatever she wants lol

G

Kazumi - Hates his family lmao. He's on bad terms with his father and is a little better with his mom but not really. The only good one in his fam was Kazuma (pleading emoji).

Knows how to conceal his true feelings p well?? He has to in the business world and around his parents. So he'll bottle up things a lot. His more childish side peeks through usually during Vanguard or when he's around people he knows he can relax with.

Wants to learn how to cook and kinda be on his own?? He doesn't want to rely on his family's wealth and probably only uses it for housing, away from the main house, but he wants to be able to live on his own and not follow the family name.

Has a lil...dragon collection. Maybe it's cuz of Shiranui but I like to think he collects little dragon trinkets. Please don't let him go off about his collection because he will. Also is v proud of it.

Mamoru - He doesn't make dad jokes, other people make dad jokes for him!! He takes care of Ryuzu and just kinda...adopted him?? Yeah the whole association is supposed to take care of him but legally he is Mamoru's kid.

He needs to take better care of himself. Probably eats fast food or whatever the dragon empire cafeteria has that's quick and can be found sleeping at his desk, especially during the heavier seasons. Tokoha usually helps him out but he's gotten a little better at it.

Probably would have been like...a teacher or something in that field if he wasn't doing Vanguard. That wouldn't be his go to or something he aspired at first but that's what he would have settled upon.

Somehow knows everyone. Could say hi to someone on the street and has seen/spoken to them before. I like to think he's kinda famous cuz of his status and all the stuff he does but like...a lot of locals know him too. Support the community!!

Overdress

Yuyu - Ends up going to the student council because of Raika lol. I don't think he'd go for any of the president or VP seats but would do something like secretary or treasurer.

Would go out of state for college!! He wants to be a pro Vanguard fighter but wants to get a degree for his fam. His sisters all have degrees so baby boy has to do it to!!

Probably genderfluid. tbh? Doesn't mind dressing up as feminine but doesn't quite like the frilly dresses his sisters pick out for him. I think he'd like more of the androgynous stuff.

He's not into max rarity for his decks. He pulls like 1 SP/FFR and is like aight cool. At most he'd would make his sideline bling but wouldn't go insane over it. Also he's a high schooler so he has no budget for this lskfjds

Tohya - Got disowned from his fam. Or at least kicked out of his house due to dropping out of med school. Homie was on his way to the big doctor leagues and then...gives it up for silly cardboard?? Yeah no his fam ain't having that bye bye.

He didn't finish school yeah but tbh he could be like...a roaming doctor. I think he was the top of his class and he knows his shit (and probably studies up on the side but not that much) so he knows what's up. Charges you with a cardfight instead of money. help him.

Stopped eating ramen for a while. Man was traumatized by the ramen challenge. It's okay he got over it and he can eat cup noodles on his own now.

He travels a lot but I like to think he p much lives at Danji's old place?? So if you wana catch him he usually goes back there. He can't officially leave because he has to take care of the turtle. Granted some Blackout members do if he can't but!! turtle is his responsibility.

[luffysprincess]

Hello Princess Amira, I have come to ask selfship questions about you and Izukuuuu.

How did you two meet? Do you have a quirk as well? Is he quirkless in your selfship?

How did he ask you out??? I know that man was tripping and fumbling over his words standing in front of you looking all pretty and crap. Bahahah

Anyway, have a great day Love You💖

Ahhhhhh hi Marq!!!

Ok so originally we met in UA bc I was also a class 1A student and I didn’t really have any feelings for him at first but he grows a big fat crush on me very quickly. And it’s kinda obvious to the whole class so that’s something that ashido and jirou love to tease me about (in private) but I just think it’s really cute of him. He’s always so flustered and stuttering whenever he has to talk to me. Even if it’s just to tell me I dropped my pencil (he’s so cute 🥰)

But as the years go by, I start to reciprocate his feelings and idk if it’s bc I keep getting teased about him crushing on me or if it’s bc he’s slowly become more daring and comfortable around me, enough to flirt with me occasionally, but I accept my feelings for him anyways bc how could I not. Also definitely think he saves me from dying at some point in our time in UA and I think I’d be lovestruck for at least a week if it was one of those situations where I was falling and he swooped in and caught me in his arms seconds before my death ajshskaka ANYWAYS he is just too loveable. His selflessness, his bravery, his intelligence, his nerdiness, his everything is just so 💕✨💖💫💗💞✨💖

So in that au we both have quirks obv, although to this day I have not come up with a quirk I’m satisfied with 😔 (it’s always either too overpowered or too weak to realistically get me into UA) so that’s something I still need to work on.

HOWEVER recently I’ve been dreaming up a different au where we don’t meet till after graduation and he becomes a teacher. But we still meet at UA!! Just this time we’re both teachers hehe. I like to believe UA has a class for costume design in their department of support and that’s the class I’d teach bc in this au my quirk is related to fabrication. Still don’t have specifics on it but I know I want it to be useful in that sense.

Anyways we meet on the first day of school in the staff room and he sees I’m nervous so he asks me to join him for lunch later that day and that begins our friendship that quickly turns into something more. By the end of the semester the whole school is shipping us together. It’s simultaneously cute and annoying bc I obv don’t mind my students gushing about how Mr. Midoriya walked me to my classroom even tho his is across the school campus, but it’s annoying when they start interrupting class to ask questions about if we’re dating or not.

We’re not dating (yet) but in a few years he asks me out by sending one of his students to my room with a mini gift basket with chocolates and a cheesy note. One that’s like “will you go out with me?” with a yes or no option for me to check. And ever since then it’s become a thing where he sends one of his students over to my class to deliver a mini gift with a love note just to remind me he’s thinking of me. (This is inspired by my old ap stats teacher back in highschool who did this for his wife who worked in the art department. It was soooo cute)

I actually really want to write a fic about this au bc it has me twirling everytime I think about it but I wanna finish the manga first. Hopefully soon tho!!

[porcelainvino]

Okay, vino, I need to know more about why you despise Darren criss

surface level: i just think he’s really cringe 😭 one could argue that that’s not a real reason to hate, but i think it’s kinda funny LMAO maybe it’s because he’s a theater kid millennial? (no offense to the theater kid millennials)

here’s a brief, there’s definitely more i just can’t think of anything else right now, collection of his cringe moments IN MY OPINION:

> naming his kid “brother”

> using music metaphors to describe him impregnating his wife/his wife giving birth (fun fact, this was my first ever reason to hate him), “we’ve been making music for years… but this time we made a BEAT” and “💙 out now. 💙”

> doing an ad with shein

> joe biden getting elected tiktok

> frankly ANYTHING he posts on tiktok

> plays a character on hazbin hotel

> using ai art for an ad for his bar, which he deleted the post for after comments were hating on it, but i have the evidence:

some random stupid personal things that i dislike him for, like this effects no one but me:

> paranoia that he’s related to me- his mom is from kinda close to where my family lives, and even if i’m not related to him, i’m scared that my family’s friends with his family 😭

> paranoia that he’ll name his kid my irl name- my irl name is a traditional filipino name and i was so nervous that he was gonna name his kid that bUT he named him brother so idk which is worse but also what if he has more kids 💔

> cringing when he sings- this was really weird but i had an era where i genuinely couldn’t listen to darren sing without physically cringing like i could listen to BLAINE sing but not DARREN??????? i think i’m over it now though. maybe…….

> some mildly distasteful things he said about fanart- this kinda made me sad to hear and (tmi) i highkey had a panic attack about it because i was paranoid that chris colfer hates me because i gave him fanart, i’m fine now my friends calmed me down after. i do understand where darren is coming from though!!!!!!!! it’s just worded VERY poorly in my opinion

‼️ things that *genuinely* piss me off under the cut!! IF YOU ARE A FAN, PLEASE IGNORE!!! I GENUINELY HAVE NO HATE TOWARDS THE FANS!!! THIS IS MY OWN PERSONAL OPINION, AND I BELIEVE I AM ENTITLED TO IT!!!‼️

i feel like he makes queerness about himself

(i was gonna make a list, but turns out all of my points fall under this idea so)

maybe he’s just a super passionate ally or something but like he consistently mentions that he’s straight like.. all the time………. and sure maybe it’s because people think he’s gay or something and he wants to clarify his point, but there are PLENTY of actors who are straight who played a gay character who don’t CONSTANTLY mention their sexuality!! idk why darren always feels as though he needs to talk about how straight he is. the way he talks about it makes it sound like all his “appreciation” for the queer community is insincere

the way he mentions queer spaces is just like.. off to me :( despite being cishet, he tends to insert himself into the conversation about being queer. he doesn’t bring anything important or necessary to the community, besides allyship i suppose, so like.. why is he here….. i just feel like the lgbtq community does not NEED darren with his weird performative activism if that makes any sense

here are some examples of this!:

> a. maybe you’ve seen it but recently he called himself “culturally queer”????? i’ve read the full interview, and i get he was essentially saying “i grew up around a lot of queer people and that effected how i see the world” but like.. “culturally queer”?!? girl…… why would you word it like that………..

> b.

this thing he said is like…. a little insane imo 😃 “none of the responsibilities”????? seriously dude?????????? like queer people have to deal with homophobic and transphobic bullshit every day and he gets to go out and say shit like this

> c.

this kinda shows the point i was making about how he just talks about the queer community weird especially when playing queer characters. like saying that playing a queer character as someone who isn’t queer “glorifies the power and struggle in that”???? like you have the privilege to vaguely understand queer experiences without having to actually have the queer experience i guess?? the wording is off to me :/ ALSO, this is an example of him calling himself “white” despite being half filipino. i know he’s white passing but he tends to bring up his filipino-ness when he want’s to pull the minority card. like he erases his ethnicity then brings it up whenever it’s convenient. i might just be picky with this one, but as a filipino, that’s how i view it

i hope.. any of this was coherent 😭 i’m not good at explaining the thoughts in my brain this just feels like a jumbled mess so i’m sorry if doesn’t make any sense 💔💔💔

in conclusion, i don’t like darren criss. i appreciate that he plays one of my favorite glee characters (maybe, LIKE I DON’T EVEN DRAW BLAINE LIKE DARREN,, NOT REALLY….). to be honest, i don’t think i TRULY hate him really?? which probably sounds stupid after this entire post, but seriously! if i was TRULY a hater, i think i’d block him on all social media, not interact with his fans, ignore any news about him, etc,, but i don’t! i think he’s interesting and deserving of his success, i just find a lot of the things he has done to be weird. i’ve seen a lot of haters be way more nit-picky about things he’s said and done, some criticisms i’ve seen come from strange/distrustful sources, and i’ve seen a lot of darren hate tied to hate on blaine, hate on his wife/family, and hate on other actors like chris colfer, which i believe is uncalled for. if anyone wants to see a couple more points about his attitude towards the queer community, feel free to dm me, but i won’t share those publicly because they’re kinda off and i have mixed feelings about them. so while i may agree with some points from random glee accounts from 2016 or something to an extent, what i’ve listed here is what i SINCERELY believe he’s in the wrong for. all in all, out of all the glee-cast-who-aren’t-actual-criminals, he’s definitely the one i dislike the most.

[ziskandra]

*cackles* 7, 10, 11, 13, and 24

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them? hate is probably too strong a word but i've developed a knee-jerk reaction to fellow anders fans over the years because of the subset that truly seem to think he can do no wrong and that all of his actions were entirely justified and had no negative consequences for anybody in kirkwall other than the templars. on one hand, i kinda get it, because i know anders fans have also gotten a lot of flack because... this fandom is incapable of being normal. on the other, i have a knee-jerk reaction towards anyone who assumes everyone plays these sort of games the exact same way as them (or indeed, the same way each time). i totally respect people doing whatever they want in their games and in their fanworks, but it's when it comes out in harassment of others or making bad faith assumptions about the character of actual living human beings that i'm like. no thank you. obviously there are fans of other characters who also engage in this behaviour, anders is just the one where my negative fandom experiences outweigh the positive ones, personally.

oh also, while i'm being salty (the name of the game i SUPPOSE), i fucking love f!handers but m!handers leaves me cold (especially in canon-verse fic, i don't mind it as much in like, modern AUs and the like?) idk i feel like them being the same gender changes their dynamic in a way i can't articulate--probably that hawke being female shifts the power dynamics a bit and. yeah. 10. worst part of fanon

again, 'worst' is probably a harsh word, but when it comes to pervasive fanon that i personally just don't like, it has to be visibly mixed-race alistair. i don't mind it as much when his ears have like, a subtle point to them or whatever, but speaking personally as someone who is visibly mixed, to the point that i have fielded complete strangers asking "what are you" on regular occasions, alistair's narrative would be. quite different if he wasn't human-passing. and while i get that some mixed-race people find solace in making their blorbos more representative of who they are and their identities not causing any issues, it leaves me cold. and again, i don't care what other people do, but it's when some people act like fellow fans who dare depict alistair as he appears in canon are being racist or what have you that i get annoyed. like, yeah, dragon age fandom does have problems with race, but like... this is imo not one of them, and it detracts from like. bringing awareness to actual issues. yeah yeah people can care about multiple things at once, but by the same token, people can only care about so many things at once, yknow? also this fandom in particular has a real problem with treating poc like we're all a monolith, and that includes both white people and poc. i find it especially frustrating that the dominant discourse centers north american race politics the most, but god forbid anyone try to address that directly .... but that's a rant for another time lmao. 11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered i have about 16 fandoms i'm not in filtered mostly bc they just turn up on my dash a lot, and a handful of characters/ships filtered for fandoms i am in! the one that has been consistently filtered the longest is reyes vidal. 13. worst blorbofication

oooh, this one i think is a toss up between alistair and varric. as someone who loves both these characters more for their flaws rather than their virtues, fandom can be. a difficult time! alistair often gets reduced to this...perfect prince charming, which i think is kind of disappointing considering there is so many different ways for his story to develop depending on the the outcomes of origins? varric, otoh, gets reduced to hawke's bestie a lot. and look. i get it. he is hawke's bestie. he is. very uncritical of hawke, which is not as much of a problem if hawke's a good person but. what if they're not? what if they're not, varric. god, what i would give for like. a fucking complicated characterisation-rich fic which explored like. hawke and varric's friendship and how they're like. codependent messes. (and i say this as someone who loves codependent messes lol). and i guess like.... everyone treats varric being viscount as a meme. and yeah, i get it, the dude is everything everywhere all at once. but i'd really love to see more content focused on like... his relationship with kirkwall, and his feelings regarding his friends and becoming viscount and yeah. anyway!! being a blorbo of mine is the worst because i enjoy pain and suffering. anyway, 24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

mage rights and also the chantry boom. i don't think i even have to elaborate on this do it 😭 🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

[busiest-bee]

I’m scared to post this but if I don’t I’ll beat myself up about it. Fuck it we ball

I’ve been trying to put my emotions into words All day. But then I remembered. Oh right yeah. I can just. Say It.

Anyways Me being a loser (vent? I don’t know) under the cut

(Cool divider made by me using some splatoon assets I got off the wiki btw :•3 )

(This is kinda long. Way longer than I originally wanted. So super sorry about that)

Anyways for a little while now I’ve been considering that I Might be some form of nonhuman/otherkin. Specifically a shapeshifter, but dogs, cats (both big and small), wolves, and bears are things I relate to heavily as well. (Not sure “relate” is the best term for what I feel but ehh I’m having a hard enough time with this as is) The dog, wolf, and cat parts are because of the kind of shapeshifter I..am?? That feels kinda crazy to say (and saying THAT is giving me some serious self doubt. But as they say, Fuck It We Ball).

Edit (8-24-24)- adding in cuz I just remembered: some visual similarities to lizards/reptiles so throw a little bit of That in the mix idk

Anyways yea the type of shapeshifter I’m talking about is actually a species I’ve been Sorta developing over a couple years now, it’s all come about pretty naturally tho. It’s basically just my brain saying “hey I Hate these parts of being a human. Let’s do something else” idk how to word it. So the kind of shapeshifter I am is more so based on what I hate about my irl body. That definitely plays into my gender dysphoria, and vice versa.

The bear part I feel less strong about, but it makes sense I guess. That came around when I had an intense hyperfixation on Splatoon. My favorite character is Mr.Grizz. Who is a bear. That hyperfixation was also the catalyst for me trying tinned fish!! (This is important to me bcuz I’m an Incredibly picky eater. Not fully relevant to the rest of this but Oh Well. I’m already oversharing on the internet in an attempt to come to terms with my identity, why not share a fun fact, Yknow?) Ever since that I’ve also felt very strongly about salmon. My favorite fish (I didn’t have a favorite fish beforehand) is sockeye salmon I LOVE them. They’re beautiful. They’re poetic. I want to eat them. Also my current layout (as of writing this) is splatoon themed. Specifically Salmon Run and golden eggs. I love the way the world of splatoon makes me feel. I want to be completely immersed in it. Golden eggs look so tasty and are so gender I HAVE to eat them.

I don’t know if this is a kin thing or if I’m just thinking too hard about it (that could apply to this entire post but eh) but I also relate (again, maybe not the “correct” term but I’m working with what my brain has so shh) to Chara from Undertale. Idk something about a little kid falling down into a mountain full of monsters, being adopted by said monsters, and giving themself up just to try saving them…their cannonical distaste of humans…something about them as a character really feels so intensely Me. I don’t think I Am Chara, but. Idk. This is all very new to me (admitting that I feel these things at least. I’ve been consuming some kin content for a while now. It’s fun!! Love moodboards and stimboards so much they’re so fun)

And maybe, if anyone has even read this far, u might be asking “bee! Your name is Bee! Your account name is bee themed!! Are u a little honey making freakazoid out to get lost in the pollen sauce?”

To which I say:

All jokes aside. I don’t know man. Bees are very me, I am very bees, but I tried looking at bee kin/therian posts and i couldn’t really relate as well as i hoped. Although I might’ve just not scrolled down enough to find something that I really deeply felt in my gut. So just. Think of me like a fancy car (except creature) with a cool bee themed skin or something idk. (To be fair itd make more than enough sense for me to be a..kin?? Therian?? I don’t know. Of a bee. I have so many bee things. One day I will have more)

I’m still unsure of labels, if anything I just prefer the term nonhuman, gets the point across without being too specific, and doesn’t give me any of the bad icky feelings that make me feel like I’m lying no matter what I do or say.

Anyways yeah this was long and dumb and honestly? I’m terrified to post it. Ive been struggling to get my words out all day and I’ve been posting like a madman. But I guess using my social media as an outlet for all my emotions I otherwise wouldn’t really have anywhere to put will do that.

Sorry if none of this made any sense, I’m really trying to not only understand myself, but also to then Describe that understanding to other people. And I’ve never been very good at having people understand me.

If I end up realizing I was wrong I will promptly dig a hole in the ground and let nature overtake me and cover me in moss

(Also just a note: if anyone sees this, Reads this, and decides to like. Reply or reblog with words of encouragement/understanding or really Anything. I might not reply bcuz I have really bad social anxiety, especially on the internet. But trust me when I say that I read everything people say in the tags of reblogs, comments/replies, all of it. It’s all greatly appreciated, it really truly is.)

(Cool ass Mr.Grizz divider made by me with an asset from the Nintendo online app in Wandercrust I think. Though I believe all the pics u can get from that are also on the wiki) (I should make a salmon themed divider holy shit)