#she was just happy to see her friend in town and now everyone's got moral quandries and queries about stingers & gossamer

[feleshero]

❝ The "Mother Bitten By A Radioactive Spider Who I'd Like To Fuck" T-shirt has people asking a lot of questions already answered by the shirt. ❞

[hkthatgffan]

Hey! You seem like a huge *Gravity Falls* fan, so I was hoping you could answer some of my biggest questions about morality in the show. Since the release of *The Book of Bill* (which I’ve read), do you think Bill could ever be redeemed or seen sympathetically? Is there a possibility for him to get better and maybe even have a happy ending?

I ask this because I see a lot of fans saying, "He's awful," or "He deserves everything coming to him a thousandfold," and "Don't sympathize with him!" But then I watch the show, and I see characters like Gideon Gleeful and Robbie who were also problematic—they did terrible things but still got happy endings.

I know Gideon went to jail, but he broke out and ultimately had a positive resolution. Robbie, for example, tried to brainwash Wendy into a romantic relationship (which is super messed up!). Even though it didn’t work, and Wendy only dated him because she thought he wrote her that song, Robbie knew what the CD was supposed to do. But instead of facing real consequences, he just went through a breakup and still ended up with a happy ending, with friends and a new girlfriend.

As for Gideon, he tried to kill Dipper, manipulate Mabel, and invade the entire town’s privacy—basically doing some of the same things Bill did. Yet, after going to jail and making a last-minute turn toward good, he still got a happy ending.

So I’m super confused. What should I be feeling? Is there a correct way to view these characters? What do you think?

Bill at his core is the personification of denial. We see in the book that the harbours some regret and hatred for what he's done to the people around him but he refuses to try and take it to heart and use it as a point to grow from. I mean, look at what he did.

He killed his entire dimension and family and yet tries to deny it was anything bad and that in fact he liberated them. He manipulated and almost destroyed Ford and yet denies ruining the friendship they had. He tried to kill Dipper and Mabel and yet acts like it was nothing. Bill is unsympathetic. He's a narcissistic sociopath who doesn't wanna admit it.

The difference with Robbie and Gideon is that they changed and grew past their issues. Robbie tbh was more so being a literal teen drama story while Gideon was made that way through his exposure to Journal 2 and how that corrupted him. Once both found a new lease on life, they were able to grow and become better.

Bill is not that. He cannot accept that he's not fine and that he's the sole survivor of his kind and has pushed everyone he knew out of his life through his own actions. We've all probably dealt with people like Bill Cipher. Be it a person, co-worker, significant other, friend, family member, etc. We've all had that person who acts full of themselves and manipulatively but in reality is suffering. But because of how they act and their refusal to do anything, you start to lose any sympathy or interest in helping or being there and just let them go. Congrats...you just escaped a toxic relationship.

As someone who has dealt with Bill Ciphers in my life like many of us probably have, it's easy to feel sympathy for him. Bill make his case out as such that you wanna feel like he deserves better. But he's a trillion year old being that has been doing the same thing over and over again and refuses to make an effort to move on and let himself accept what he did to his dimension and to people around him like Ford.

Ford on the other hand realized that and cut Bill out of his life. He's doing better now because of that and has his family by his side. Ford is an example of how to move on from such toxic situations and people and find happiness in your life again after that. Bill is the example of what happens if you can't.

Life is short. We all will die one day. We all deserve to lead a life free of people like Bill Cipher in it. The best thing we can do is follow Ford and find the people in life that make us happy and let go of Bill.

So, to answer your question, NO!

I don't think Bill Cipher can be redeemed or seen in a sympathetic way. He tried to. But he's shown even in the Theraprism that he can't. He's doomed to live forever with the shit he's done. And it's his own fault.

Bill can say he's fine but in the end...he's not. And he never will be. There is no redemption for Bill Cipher.

[igotanidea]

Taken: Dick Grayson x f!reader x Jason Todd

Summary: he was in love with his brother's girlfriend.

Warning: bit of action,but nothing explicit, somewhat morally grey, angst, pain, hurt no comfort, no happy ending (sorry.....)

A/N: please, don't ask me for part 2, cause I don't think i could take it

***

Being around Dick Grayson was a threat to human life and Y/n Y/l/n was the perfect example of this. She was the youngest one ever to become a cop and as her first post assigned to nowhere else, but the shithole Gotham. The place where most of the officials were bought and on the call of different villains. Luckily, she was one of commissioner Gordon subordinate and that let her keep her objective side and not get bribed.

But that was also how she met Barbara. And once that happened, she was quickly acknowledged to Dick, who seemed to like her after the first glance. Y/n was fierce, never took anyone’s bullshit and knew how to take care of herself. With her quiet confidence, ability to listen, deep caring about people and sense of morality, especially when it came to the abused, Grayson soon found himself falling for her.

Not like he was going to tell her, at least not straight away.

Instead, he started hanging out with her more often and made her met the entire Wayne family causing a little teasing from his siblings and one serious conversation with Bruce who specifically warned him in how much danger he was putting the girl by getting close to the civilian. Dick only retorted something about Batman doing the same to Jim Gordon before rushing out of Bruce’s office. Yet, he was still convincing everyone that he and Y/N were just friends.

And even his vigilante instincts and observation skills didn’t make him see the slight relief on his younger brother’s face every time Dick denied allegations of the situation being otherwise.

But since the first day she got into Manor it was pretty obvious that she would become family friend, regardless of what Bruce may think about it.

Even if she only knew half of the story about Waynes.

***

What finally shifted the dynamics between those two was the moment when Y/n got into some serious trouble while working a work case and stupidly not waiting for her partner to assist her on the field. Her sense of justice and morality simply got the best of her and the girl found herself in the middle of the trap in a heavy crossfire.  Who knew how this would turn if Nightwing didn’t come out of nowhere and, to put it simply, saved her ass.

“Hey!” she yelled slightly agitated, cleaning her cheek from the blood “I was handling it and …..!” she froze the second Nightwing turned towards her and eyed her carefully with the blue orbs…. “No….” The sudden realisation and recognition hit her like a truck.

“Are you all right, sunshine?” he asked taking a few steps towards her, taking her hand in his ”Please tell me you’re not hurt….”

“I…..I….. I’m not.” She stuttered “I think so, at least, but how….why.... what….?”

“Sh.” He silenced her “not here, not now. Meet me at our place in an hour and I’ll explain it all to you, all right? I promise.”

***

And so he did. Explaining everything. Leaving her in absolute shock, but also making her ask whether she could somehow join the team an help them as one of the very few “clean” officers in town. It made Dick wonder but her wide open pleading eyes and pretty face made him relent. And that may have also been what finally pushed him to kiss her. He just couldn’t hold himself anymore, all those emotions held at bay for almost a year finally finding way out. And it just felt so good to not keep it hidden anymore. But it was also terrifying when he pulled out, not sure of her uptake on the situation, ready to apologise and ask for forgiveness. But before he could say anything, she grabbed his neck and pulled him back wanting more and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. And he knew.

She loved him too.

***

For three months they somehow managed to keep their relationship at secret. Even despite her now working with bat and spending even more time at the Manor. But it just couldn’t last forever. Not with all those people around.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for....." Jason started walking into her room without knocking, but the view in front of his eyes made him freeze.

She wasn't alone. She was with Grayson. In a very unambiguous situation. To put it simple - they were kissing and sure as hell wouldn't stop at that if Jason hadn't interrupted them. Dick was already shirtless, hovering over Y/N, his hands on her waist, lips moving over her skin causing little moan to fall from her mouth.

And she fucking enjoyed it.

She enjoyed him.

There was zero room for interpretation, arching back and nails digging into Grayson's back pulling him closer being enough to break Jason's heart.

"Jason!" she hissed pushing Dick away, the cutest blush creeping onto her face as she quickly tried to fix her top "how many times do I have to tell you to knock!"

"Sorry....." he mumbled, not really sure what else to say "Just wanted to......" his gaze landed on the floor, since all of a sudden he became unable to face her.

"Is everything all right, Jace?" her tone became a bit more concerned and he just couldn't take it anymore. But neither she nor Grayson could know that.

"You two are a thing now?" he smirked back to his usual attitude

"We are." Dick nodded, his love sick puppy gaze landing on her face and she reciprocated with the same expression.

"Make sure to keep it quiet then, will you? I really cannot blast the music on full volume to drown you out or I'll go deaf" Jace rolled his eyes and as fast as he could rushed out of her room.

His cheeks were burning, his hands and legs were shaking and there was only one thing on his mind.

He was in love with his brother's girlfriend.

***

Since there was nothing he could do about that feeling he just started to ignore her. Every time he saw her walking towards him, he remembered something important that caused him to escape the room, leaving the girl confused and a bit down. She had no idea what happened to the boy she knew and who was one of her best friends. After all, he was the one closest in age to her and since they shared the love for literature, they used to talk for hours. So she didn’t understand what changed. But when he kept on acting like that for a week she decided it would be best to just leave him alone for the time being. It was Jason after all, he had his moods and phases that came and went. Y/n was pretty sure he would reach to her if he wanted. After all, Jason used to say that she was the only one to really care about him and always support him.

If only the girl knew what was going on inside Jason’s head. That every time he saw her with Dick he was burning inside. Why was she with Grayson? The one who were always there for everyone, helping other people, taking care, making sure everyone was all right and barely having time for his own girl, neglecting her? Jason would never do such thing, he would spend every minute with her, cherishing her, loving her, keeping her close.

If only she was his…..

But she was taken, just because Grayson was the first to act on his feelings while Jason chickened out, hoping, like a silly schoolboy, that she would notice his longing, loving stares from the other side of the room.

***

A few days later, he unwillingly became the witness to one of their conversations. It was the middle of the Saturday and Grayson was duty-free, but apparently he got some serious call from someone in Bludhaven, an old friend (Kory?) and without much thinking, packed his bags and got ready to came for an aid. Once Jason heard what happened, he stopped by the door and peeking through like a maniac, carefully observed the situation unravel.

“I hate leaving you like that….” Dick whispered, wrapping arms around his girl, holding her close on full display for Jason, whose heart was breaking even more, if that was even possible. Todd could swear his heart was beating so rapidly, just because of the thought that she could be touching him, instead of his brother. His fist clenched involuntarily and he barely held himself from rushing inside and breaking that little scene.  

“I know, Dickie.” she hid face in the crook of his neck, pressing herself closer, not wanting to let him go “but you are a hero and people need you, I get that.”

“Say a word I’ll stay with you.’ He kissed the top of her head, caressing her back.

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Richard.” She smiled and looked into his eyes “that would be selfish of me.”

“You deserve to be selfish” Jason though biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood .”You deserve love and attention and not a boy who has time for everyone but you…..”

“I love you.’ Dick whispered, pressing his mouth to hers in the gentle kiss, tangling hand in her hair “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise, all right? And then we’ll do all those things on our list.”

“Love you more. And I hold you to your words, boy wonder.” She unwillingly let him go with a grin, but once he stepped out the door and was out of sight, her shoulders fell and she let out a heavy sigh. She did love him, truly, but sometimes it was tough and exhausting to act strong and not force him to stay with her.

Two hours later Jason found her asleep on the couch with an open book laying nearby. Judging by the force with which she was holding onto her body pillow she was imagining someone else in her embrace. She was imagining Grayson and it made Jason angry.

Grayson fucking left her.

He left that angel. That kind, gentle, compassionate and caring soul. The one who loved him with the love Grayson never deserved. He didn’t deserve her. That idiotic fucker.

If it was Jason to be with her, he would worship the ground she was walking on. She would never have to worry about a single  thing. He would never cause her any pain, nor let a single tear fell from her eyes.

 But she was not his to love and protect. All he could do at the moment was step forward and put a blanket over her so she wouldn’t get cold. Poor boy. And once the warm, soft material landed on her body she stirred in her sleep and smiled softly, causing Jason’s heart to drop even more. 

“I love you.....” he whispered brushing a strand of hair out her face and caressing her cheek, making her lean into the touch. She probably thought it was just a dream, not a reality.  

***

Dick might have been in Bludhaven for a few days, but it didn’t mean that his family wasn’t still patrolling, dealing with villains and getting hurt in the process. And since Y/N was staying at the manor, for safety reasons, of course, she quickly took it upon herself to patch all the wounds that any of the Waynes could endure.

Surprisingly, more often than not, it was Jason who got himself injured (blame the distraction), but her attempts to help him were dismissed in harsh words and by pushing her away. Just to protect himself from doing or saying something stupid he might regret.

“I don’t fucking need your help!’ he hissed, watching her gaze sadden and her whole body to cringe. “I can handle my own shit! Just... get the hell away from me!”

Without a second of hesitation he rushed out the batcave, followed with his family’s eyes.

“What is wrong with him?” Damian scoffed

“I might have an idea....” Tim muttered

“Tell me.” Y/N cut Drake off. “Tell me what this is about Tim. I can’t handle him being so .... hurt. I don’t want him to feel like he’s alone and no one understand him....”

“It’s really not my place...”

“TIMOTHY DRAKE!”

“Stop attacking me! God! How can you look so innocent and act so scary at the same time? “

“I swear if you don’t start talking....” she warned with the most stern voice she could produce

“Just..... I think you should talk to Todd yourself, Y/N.”

“Fine.” The girl shook her head. She was going to clear this shit out.

***

“Jace? May i come in?” the gentle knock on his bedroom door got him by surprise and when she entered, without waiting for the invitation he was sitting shirtless on his bed, trying to stitch the wound and holding an ice pack to his bruised ribs. Once her gaze landed on all of the injuries, he flinched, almost trying to hide himself.

“Go away....” his voice was far more begging and pleading than commanding and strong. He didn’t want her to see him like this. All of a sudden he realised that she would never feel for him the same way she felt for Dick. That with his scarred body and anger issues he never stood a chance.

“Jason.” She never listened and this time was no exception “Come on, stop it. It’s not the first time I will help you get yourself together. I’ve seen all those scars before. It’s all right. Safe place, no judgement. Let me.” Her soft hand reached for the needle and surgical thread and slowly, methodically, trying to cause him as little pain as possible started to stich his wounds. “You’ve been acting strange lately.....” the girl pointed out.

“not much more than usually.” He muttered “I am one hell of a strange person. Dead yet alive.”

“Stop it.” She cut him off, finishing the stitching and putting hand on his arm making him flinch again. “Sorry....” his action stung her. “Sorry, I am out of line, I won’t force you to speak to me if you don’t want. I never should have.....” she moved away, but never managed to get far as his arms wrapped around her pulling her close and his lips met hers.  He just couldn’t hold himself anymore. Not once he felt her touch and care. It was just impossible. She started the fire that no one could contain.

At first he was afraid she would push him away, ready for it even, since after all she had a boyfriend. But much to his surprise and joy, she did no such thing. If anything she kissed him back.

She kissed him back.

Could she.... could she possibly want him?

Jason was not going to wonder about it, instead focusing on satiating his hunger of her. He was starved of her, his mouth brushing over hers with desire, passion, wanting more and more and more. He was completely lost in the moment as he lifted her up, bringing her to his lap, hands sneaking under her shirt, travelling up, up to her shoulder blades, brushing over the clasp of her bra, palms pressing into her back, pulling her closer, closer.

It was so good, so perfect, having her like this, not fighting, not pushing away, but making her melt into him, feeling her body flex, touch him back, mirroring all his actions.

She was the only one for him. The only one he could ever trust, love, care about. He would burn the whole world for her if she ever got hurt. He completely lost his mind for her.

Her,

Her,

Her.

The things were getting so heated so fast, when he switched positions gently lowering her down onto the mattress. Shit. She was so beautiful and touch starved and abandoned by Grayson. And Jason was going to show her what it really meant to love a woman.

“Y/N....” he muttered hovering over her, completely blinded by desire, grabbing her wrist gently and pinning them above her head, kissing her jaw, neck, everywhere he could reach. “Y/N.” he nibbled on her collarbone getting a single, breathy moan, getting so hard for her. To tell the whole truth, he almost felt like crying when her hand tangled in his mop of hair, pressing him closer to her body. He never felt so wanted and needed in his whole life and her action got him completely lost. She accepted him. She agreed to everything he was doing to her, simply following his lead and he just wanted to make her feel so good. He whimpered once the warmth of her affection spread inside his chest and belly, right hand slowly peeling her shirt off, exposing her soft skin to him.

God! He had her. He finally had her.

He was lovesick, his own body acting without any control. He just wanted her to want him, need him, touch him and hold him. But it also made him bold. And reckless.

“You’re so beautiful…..”he whispered, trailing kissed up her stomach and between her breast, making her arch her back and squirm in pleasure. “I love you…..”

“You what?” those words were like a bucket of cold water for her, eyes opening wide as she became aware in a second. “Oh, shit, no, shit, fuck!” the girl hissed, taking him by surprise and breaking free from his grip pushing him away and adjusting her messy look.

“Baby?” he whimpered, confused and hurt

“You cannot love me, we… we can’t do this Jason.”

“But…..”

“I’m in love with your brother!”

“He doesn’t deserve you! He does not take care of you!”

“And what do you know about it? He loves me, Jason. And despite of what you say, he does care. Every fucking day. Even when he’s busy! You’re judging my relationship with him of silly little piece of information, but you don’t know shit about it!”

“So why did you let me kiss you?” he stuttered looking straight into her eyes.

“It was a mistake.” She said coldly, hating herself. She despised herself for those words, but what else was there to do. She couldn’t do this to Dick. She couldn’t do it to Jace. And most importantly, she couldn’t do it to herself. She might as well put a gun to their heads and pull the trigger. No matter what she would do, someone would end up getting hurt. Badly. And she would end up being the unfaithful one. Not fair. She had to cut it right now, even if her body kept screaming at her to let go and let Jason love her. He was so gentle and loving and slow and sensual. Showing that part of him she never knew. So different than his brother when it came to intimacy…..  Fuck!

“How…. How was it a mistake?” he was practically shaking at the moment. He bared his soul to her, hoping she was the one to trust, to take care of his poor, shattered heart. And the look in his eyes almost made her cry as well. But she had to be strong.

“We’re just friends, Jason.” She sighed, barely holding herself “nothing more. There won’t ever be anything more between us” she stood up from the bed.

“Please…..” he begged, grabbing her hand “please, don’t go. Stay with me. Let me…..”

“I’m sorry, Jace. I think we should just forget about what happened.” She yanked herself free and rushed out the door not looking back at him.

“I could never forget. And I won’t stop fighting for you.”

***

She was very well aware that his words were true. That Jason wouldn’t stop. But Y/N also knew that Dick wouldn’t ever relent. It seemed like she got herself in some serious trouble by loving two brothers, each one with different kind of love.

Dick and Jason.

Jason and Dick.

Fuck. Someone was going to end up broken hearted and she just couldn’t choose.

Therefore, she did the only thing that came to her mind.

***

“Hey, do you have Y/N somewhere around? I can’t reach her phone and she’s not responding my texts…..” very disturbed Dick showed up on the other side of the computer screen, reaching Tim.

“Dick…..”

“Is she all right? What happened Tim?”

“She left.”

“What?! What do you mean left?! How could she leave the house full of batman crew?! How could no one notice?!”

“She left you a letter.”

“A letter!? Shit, I deserve better. I’m going to find her! I’m getting back to Gotham right the second and I won’t stop until I search every inch of this city, country or planet!”

“Dick!” Tim yelled interrupting his brother’s monologue

“Why did she leave….?” Grayson’s voice broke. “I thought she loved me…..”

“She did, Dick. She wrote it on the envelope…..”

“I will hear it from her. Come on, Timmy, help me here.”

“Dick….”

“Yes?” Dick looked straight into Tim;s eyes in the camera and he froze. Something was wrong, terribly wrong and his younger brother’s face was screaming bad news “what are you not telling me, Tim?”

“There’s been a car accident and …..”

“NO!!” sudden scream came from behind and both Dick and Tim saw Jason falling to his knees onto the floor, clutching his head desperately, acting completely out of his mind “No,no,no,no,no.” he sobbed. “no….. this is all my fault, this is all because of me…..”

“No.” Dick became pale, sudden realisation of what Tim meant finding a way to his brain.

***

She wanted to be fair to both of them. That was why she left not one, but two letters, explaining why she couldn’t stay and destroy whatever frail relationship Dick and Jace managed to build. She also asked them not to look for her and in a haze, unnoticed, left the manor, planning to stay with her friends in Central City.

What she didn’t expect was that truck, speeding and running into the crossroad on the red light…..

And then,

breaks sqealing

glass breaking

darkness.   

[sednonamoris]

a dark alley and a bad idea

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: After an argument with Abigail, John goes into town to drink his worries away. As always you follow, and as always there's trouble - seems like you bring it with you wherever you go. 

Warnings: Canon-typical alcohol/tobacco abuse, canon-typical violence, bar fight, blood, jealousy, toxic relationship(s), a singular French man, mild angst, pining, sexual tension ;)

Word count: 2,203

A/N: Just a chapter or two to go until we hit the official RDR2 timeline!!! This has been some time coming, and I just have to say a huuuuuge thank you to the people who read/comment on this story <333 ghost story is very near and dear to me, and sharing it with you all has been such a joy!! Here’s to many more chapters, and an eventual spark that turns this slow burn into a wildfire 🥵❤️‍🔥

Series masterlist • AO3

—

John and Abigail are fighting. Again. 

Leaned up against the pole of your tent, you take a long drag from your cigarette that does nothing to dull the headache forming behind your left eye socket. Every word they shout is a stabbing pain. You don’t know what the argument is about, this time, but at a guess it’s John’s failure as a father. Or perhaps Abigail’s incessant nagging. Or, more likely, two stubborn fools fighting tooth and nail not over a son, but over who’s right and who’s wrong and a years old hurt.

Maybe that mattered once upon a time, but the way they carry on now isn’t right for anyone.

The whole of camp is sick and tired of the never-ending arguments that last all day, and the too-loud fucking that lasts all night. It never seems to satisfy them, either, because come morning the fighting starts all over again. Not for the first time, you think about moving your tent to the other side of camp. Even bunking next to Dutch’s new best friend, Micah, would be an improvement. 

“Leave me be, woman! Can’t you see I want nothin’ to do with either of you right now?” John shouts in her face. 

“Fine!” Abigail fires back. “Swan off with Ghost like you ain’t got a family here! That’s what you always do anyhow.” 

“Maybe I will!” 

“Useless man,” she seethes.

She sends you a withering glare as she marches away, Jack in tow. You smile thinly in return. No doubt she’s headed to vent to Arthur, and then ask him with those pretty blue eyes to do something fun to take the boy’s mind off things. Then, once John has come back, they’ll argue over that, too.

John shakes his head and curls his lip in disgust, but does exactly as Abigail predicts. He storms past your tent with a come on, we’re leavin’, then keeps stomping on to where his mare is picketed. He never looks back to see if you follow. 

You do. 

—

These past few years have gone by in a blur, like those moving pictures Arthur told you about once. Hosea’s health has waxed and waned. Familiar faces left. New ones came. Jack is really starting to grow up, and Abigail has blossomed into motherhood in spite of John, who in between arguments has re-devoted himself to gunslinging. To Dutch. He watches over him with pride glistening in those dark eyes of his - a father figure and a moral compass and a leader all at once. Arthur is green with envy and red with an angry sort of shame. You’re just happy that unlike those two, whatever rift once existed between you and John has long since healed. 

And now here you all are in Blackwater.

To hear Dutch and Hosea tell it, this now-bustling town verging on citydom was little more than a trading post the last time they passed through. Following the two murders everyone is charitable enough not to mention, the long arm of the law has chased you relentlessly. A failed venture up North led you here, further East than anyone has been in what feels like a lifetime.

You’re trying to see it as a fresh start. 

John seems like he’s trying to go back in time.

The ride into town has given him a chance to cool down some, but he still carries a tension and a meanness in those broad shoulders of his. Riding just behind, you take a rare moment to admire him. He’s been growing his hair out. It sits lank just past his shoulder, and as much as it needs a wash you think the length suits him. It frames the sharp angles of his face that even the low brim of his hat can’t hide and emphasizes the lean, untamed power of his frame. 

The two of you are wilderness and war, survival and spite. Restless remnants of time gone by. Ghosts, you think wryly to yourself.

Blackwater is just the opposite. Each building is young and alive, cut brick and fresh paint. Wooden scaffolding reveals the newborn bones of structures still being built by construction workers that toil proudly for a city made in their image. Passersby are dressed in clothes that make up for fineness in newness and brightly colored dye. Some of the ladies even have delicate parasols to shield their skin from the prairie sun’s harshness. You spy your own sun-weathered face in the expensive glass saloon-front and manage to suppress a sigh. 

John parks his mare at one of the hitching posts there. You follow suit, not at all surprised at where you’ve landed. You, Arthur, and Hosea came to ‘test out the drinks’ your first week here. They’re good. Expensive, but good. The two of them have been scheming away about some mysterious lead they won’t let you in on. Meanwhile, Micah has bent Dutch’s ear about a river boat. You’re still sniffing out leads of your own, and figure the bar will be as good a place as any to start. It just happens John will be drinking his problems away beside you. 

“Two whiskeys,” he says to the bartender without preamble. He slaps just enough change down on the counter and takes a seat, oblivious to the glares of customers he’s interrupted. You settle in beside him with a poorly-concealed grin.

“What if I wanted a beer?”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t.”

You hold up your hands in mock surrender. “At least let me get the next round.”

At that he clinks his glass to yours and taps it on the bartop before swallowing his drink down with a grimace. You elect to nurse yours, already prepared for a long night.

He quickly outpaces you. While John oscillates between pouring his heart out to whatever working girl is nearest and playing increasingly worse hands in the ongoing blackjack game, you begin smalltalking. One of the off-duty construction workers piques your interest. He’s a burly, hairy, mountain of a man who introduces himself as Pierre with an accent you can only place as foreign.

“You speak real good English,” you blurt without thinking. “Where are you from?”

He laughs, a deep sound that comes from his belly. “I have been told I speak English very well, yes. I am from France.”

“Awful long boat ride to break your back layin’ brick.”

“Perhaps so, but I like the work. It keeps my mind and my hands busy. Surely you know something of this, Cowpoke?”

You snort a laugh in agreement and try to ignore the heat that rises in your cheeks at the nickname. It sounds… nice, when he says it. A little romantic, like you’re some lone figure on the American frontier and not a liar, a killer, and a thief. 

Mischief and delight dance in the dark brown of his eyes when he catches your fluster. “Let me buy you a drink, hm? Then maybe I will tell you about France, and you will tell me about America.” 

—

You’re the warm, happy kind of drunk by the time the sun starts setting. Pierre is kind, and funny, and his stories of France paint such a vivid picture in your mind. You’ve traveled plenty, sure, but never across oceans. It sounds equal parts exhilarating and frightening. He tells you about laying strong foundations, and you tell him about breaking young horses. He explains what to look for in a fine building, and you tell him how to buy decent horseflesh. It’s fun. Freeing, even, to speak to someone outside of the gang like this. Of course he mentions a wealthy old landowner outside of town too paranoid to keep his money at the bank, and of course you’ll rob the place later, but he shares this not to screw someone else over, but because the construction of the old house fascinates him. Because he wants to share that passion with you. Because, you remind yourself, he doesn’t know you are what you are. 

He tells a joke - something about construction, you think. It’s hard to tell because he leans in and places a hand on your arm and your mind suddenly goes blank. His eyes smile with him, just as strong and warm as the rest of him. You smile back. Then in the blink of an eye there’s a shout, and before you realize what’s happened Pierre is cradling his bleeding nose after someone lands a vicious right hook.

“You keep your hands to yourself, partner.” 

“What the hell, Marston?!” you say, scrambling back from the commotion. But it’s no use; John can’t see past the blood red of his tunnel vision.

To your great dismay, Pierre rises to his challenge. He flashes you a look - apologetic or resigned or disappointed, it’s hard to say -  before standing to face off with your idiot best friend, piss drunk and fighting mad. He’s easily twice his size, but what John Marston lacks in muscle he makes up for in meanness. When Pierre swings high, he dives low and takes him out at the legs. And so the mountain topples. Straddled on his chest, John beats and beats and beats on Pierre’s face, until finally the larger man throws him off and comes to an unsteady stand. His face is pulpy. His eyes shine bright with anger and dark with understanding the kinds of company you keep. The bloodthirsty crowd that’s gathered jeer and laugh. They catch John on the fringe and push him back into the fight. Standing opposite, Pierre spits blood in his direction before putting his fists up once more. 

The bartender is still shouting for them to stop. 

You’re just frozen, watching John defend the honor you don’t possess against a man who probably has more than the whole gang combined. 

When their fists collide once again, crowd-goers start passing crumpled bills and calling out bets. Twenty on the skinny one, and I’ve got thirty for Frenchy, and let’s see forty for the cowboy! Even they can see John has more fight in him, no matter how many times Pierre clobbers him with a powerful left hook the idiot can’t seem to block. 

Fools. Goddamn blood-blind fools, both of them. 

John gets full-body thrown against the bar, all sprawled limbs and wind-knocked-out-of-him. He wheezes an insult, goading Pierre closer. Only you can see the writing on the wall, but the cry of warning comes too late; The moment he closes the distance, John whips a bottle out from behind the bar and breaks it over Pierre’s head. He comes crashing down, over two hundred pounds of dead weight lost to the crunch of broken glass and police whistles.

The moment the lawmen burst through the front doors is the moment you finally unfreeze. You rush over to where John stands lording over his fallen opponent and all but tackle him through the back door. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” you hiss at him as you dodge through backalleys and behind buildings. “I was working a lead - He was buying my drinks for Christsakes!”

“Shut up,” he snaps, then tugs your arm and pushes your back to scratchy alley brick with a hand over your mouth.

He crowds close, and you seriously contemplate kicking him in the balls or biting him - maybe both - when three officers run past, clearly hunting for you. His dark leather coat blends with the unlit alleyway, but still you don’t dare move a muscle. The two of you hold your collective breath until the sound of their footsteps fade.

John removes his hand from your mouth, but it doesn’t go far. Rather than retreating, he cups your cheek and lets his thumb brush against your lower lip. 

“He was touching you,” he says, half defense and half confession.

Somehow you find your voice. “What if I wanted him to?”

“You didn’t.” Alcohol and iron sit heavy on his breath. His grey eyes are blown black, drunk and something else you’re too scared to name. It’s hard to breathe. You wish it wasn’t. 

“What do I want, then?”

He tilts his face forward, so the bridge of his nose brushes against yours. Your eyelashes kiss his cheekbones. You can feel how wide your own eyes have blown, can feel the want and the warmth and the desperate, pathetic hope that builds in your chest and threatens to bubble out of your mouth.  

“Someone who ain’t afraid of ghosts.” He doesn’t speak so much as breathe the words into you. 

You open your mouth - to respond, to kiss him, maybe - but before you can say another word the sound of heavy footfall at the opposite end of the alley snaps both of your heads to attention at breakneck speed. 

“There they are!” a voice shouts, and a whistle blows shortly afterward. 

“Fuck!” John curses. “Shit.”

The two of you sprint off into the night, to the edge of town where you whistle desperately for your mounts to follow. Two ungraceful running mounts later you’re off, shaking the police tail with ease on moonlit backroads.

Once the danger has passed you let your heart break to the sound of hoofbeats that lead home.

[dontcallpanic]

Hi there sweetheart! 🩵 as i said on my post, im turning this around

what are some of the things that never fail to make you smile?

and I'll also ask: what are some of the things/people that scream 'love' from miles away for you?

@gege-wondering-around I am so, so sorry this has taken so long – as usual. Life is chaos but I really appreciate the ask! You’re so kind and so lovely and your answer was perfect I hope I can do this justice! Diolch yn fawr iawn and here we go

Family. – One member in particular keeps wandering around singing Life is a Highway very badly and offkey and I just love it! It’s so cosy and fun and I just love it when things are calm enough that people can relax and be themselves. My cat (called Busy) also makes me smile. She’s a floozy cat and loves attention.

Writing – I’m working on something for my absolute best friend which has a bit of a story behind it. It’s a Sterek Au that came about because I went back home. I grew up in among those strange rural small towns where everything is a bit weird and a little left of reality. I was in the local supermarket and for some reason in the back rooms they had this section absolutely chock full of plaid shirts so I snapped a pic and sent it to my friend for fun as a Stiles reference. And from that we just kind of ran with this strange Sterek, small town au where all sorts of strange, odd, supernatural things happened. So, of course I had to write it for her. But I write REALLY slowly. It’s not going to be finished any time soon but it’s 18000 words so far! Anyway, it’s purely for fun and full of joy and bittersweet things and it makes me smile SO much. Have a snippet! He can see it now. He’s going to become a cautionary tale. Parents everywhere will tell their children all about the dangers of running off to find themselves and all because he got lost in the woods and eaten by a bear. My what big teeth you have and all that. Wait – that’s little red riding hood. Maybe he’ll be eaten by wolves, not bears… That would be exactly his luck. Especially when there are famously no wolves in California. What was the moral of that story again? Something about not trusting strangers? Never leave the path? Something else about… not… going… for a walk in the woods… alone? Fuck. Stiles runs an anxious hand down the front of his favourite red hoodie. Double fuck. There was no way he was little red riding hood. The universe wouldn’t be that cruel, right? The colour of his jacket should have no bearing on the likelihood of him being eaten by a wild animal. Absolutely not. None, whatsoever. Nope. Incidentally, has anyone done any research on whether bears are attracted to certain colours more than others?

Adventures – I love exploring and just seeing new places, near or far. It doesn’t really matter where but show me a quiet road surrounded by tall trees and I am just giddy with happiness. I love driving too so that helps!

Music – this is one of the things that I live for. I love how much music can give you, from inspiration, to pure feeling, vibes, joy, drama, beautiful poetry. It’s everything and it’s got everything! Here’s a link to my favourites playlist (that I'm still adding to!) but it’s full of all sorts of everything . Listen at your own risk!

Kindness - I’ll shout out to people on Tumblr too. I love seeing people be themselves and owning their weird, whatever it is! That always makes me smile – especially when something good happens for someone I follow. I loved what you said about kindness too. The words I try to live by are be curious and have compassion. Everyone’s going through something and the world can always use a bit more kindness!

Things that scream love from miles away (loved this question!)

Friends – I have two best friends who are the complete opposite of each other and I love them so much. They keep me going and whatever’s going on, they can always make me smile.

I’m moving away from them both which is breaking my heart a bit but something they both do which, to me, screams love from a distance is they’ll just send me things.

One friend sends memes and funny videos

The other shares her day and sends me pictures of what she’s doing.

I love this so much because its just I saw this and thought of you! It’s quick, it’s sweet, its thoughtful and it just means so much to me that they are going about their day and they take the time to think oh, I thought you’d like this! Now my phone is full of their lives and it makes me so happy.

I try to reciprocate  as much as possible but everyone always says my love language is bread. I’ll often bake bread for my friends to pass on when I see them although I realise that might be harder these days. Posting bread doesn’t seem like the best idea…

I’ll also do a small shout out to my husband here, as we’re talking about things that scream love. We met about 14 years ago when I was 18. I saw him across the room in a crowded bar on my first day of Uni and it was love at first sight. Still can’t explain it to this day. He was just my person.

Thanks so much for the ask! It’s really sweet and I had a lot of fun thinking about this one! It’s always worth spreading a little love and happiness and I hope your day is full of pure joy! You deserve it!

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Christmas Imagine

Imagine: Derek Hale trying to convince you to just elope with him on Christmas eve vs a big family- mainly so He wouldn’t have to deal with your sister. 

you often forget to remember you had a Sister. they didn’t come up in conversation much, you Don’t talk to them, they don’t reach out and you don’t either. your relationship was never like Elsa and Anna’s. you weren’t close. Honestly- they use to Help your bullys. Bully you. Once they left you stranded on the side of the road.. and got a ride home with friends while you were stuck. in the freezing cold and ended up walking home in the dead of winter on the side of the highway. typical Bitchy bratty sister Rival you were told/ Promised by your parents it would get better when you both got older- it didn’t. you were engaged once before. and it was the Day of your wedding. a Nice may day. flowers were blooming when you walked towards the church. dress in hand with your Mother, your bridesmaids that you noticed in the window of the church in the Pastors office your sister’s bare bum pressed against the window, and your groom’s face buried into her neck. you instantly Knew it was him and you Ran off.

that’s how you got to Beacon Hill. you ran until you didn’t have any more money and ended up in the small town. After being betrayed by your Fiance / your former best friend of almost 9 years. and your own sister. you didn’t trust anyone. in fact when you first learned about werewolves. Derek saved you from his uncle. you hit Peter hard in the head with a hammer. while in wolf form as Derek saved you. the bubbling romance started slow. neither of you was open to the idea of Love. Lust Yes! but love? No. it took almost a full year of ‘dating” before you got the guts to say you were in love. Derek never rushed you. after learning how your last relationship ended, he wasn’t in a rush to Rush you. 

Derek knew about your Sister and you dragged him to a Family event out  Beacon hill for moral support. Derek instantly hated your sister. She was eyeing him up the entire night and then during the speeches at the wedding, your sister announced she was pregnant. at the memorial event for your cousin who had a miscarriage full term. Everyone was furious at her. but you sort of figured she would pull a stunt. Every big event. in your life, she stole the spotlight. other by picking a huge fight with your mom or dad. when you had a Dance performance, Or when at you planned A weekend getaway. with your mom and she tagged long. she got wasted the night before and puked everywhere. One in an Experience Purse store and you were forced to buy a Now ruined Designer bag cause she ran off before the staff could catch her. 

Derek instantly came up with a plan. a Plan B for the wedding. Derek wasn’t overly romantic he went all out for the postposal. a nice dinner at Home, playing your favorite musican one he hated, he had the place full of sunflowers your favorite flower. Roses were too “overdone” you once mentioned to him and Sunflowers were a happy flower. who could be upset in sight of sunflowers? Derek was neverous about your Answer and he kept sweating. he went thru all his dress shirt sweating. then you came home and  seeing the entire place full of sunflowers and string warm lights. you started crying. which made him cry. 

After hearing the stories of your sister, and how you just brushed off all the wicked things she’s done. Derek was worried. but at the big family gathering. He knew. your sister would try to screw up the wedding. he could tell you were neverous espically after your cousins funeral. 

your parents kept assuring you that your sister has grown and they wouldn’t ruin your day. but in the back of your mind you were scared. the wedding was Set for June. 

you Shuffled thru the front door grumbling to yourself work was Not Fun! a sixteen year old bite you- right in the arm. you freaked and had to get Scott to check to make sure he wasn’t a wolf. you weren’t excatly sure. but he left a bruise.. then to Boot! you weren’t allowed to give the Snotty brat detention! he was the son of the Principle untouchable. you also felt a cold coming ona nd were grumpy. you got into the appartment seeing Derek leaning against the counter waiting for you ashe smiled warmly. you were the only person who got to see that smile. 

“Hey babe.” you both said at the same time causign you both to chuckle, getting over to Derek you kissed him quckly sitting on the bar stool as he smelt you. “who was all over you?”  you groaned as you spoke, “A boy.. Bite me! Scott checked he wasn’t a wolf. but I couldn’t even give that brat detention. eh broke skin!” you moved your sleeve showing the bandaid and taking it off to show the wound. 

‘Jesus.. why the hell would he do that?” 

‘he’s a massive ass. I dont believe in coropal punishment but that brat could use it.” he chuckled softly. reaching over grabbing your hand, ‘I been thinking.. about the wedding.” 

‘what about it?” your heart twisted. Oh god he was finally realizing how he was far to good for you. he sighed heavily squeezing your hand looking down, “i think.. we should have a test Trail.. with your sister.” 

you instantly breathed hearing that. it wasn’t what you expected. you gasped gripping his arm, “jesus Derek i thought it was bad enws!” he grinned weakly as he’s words sinked in, “what you mean a test trail? we both know she will turn it around. and make it about her.’

“I dont want our day to be about her I want it about you and Me. vows of forever. death due us part. If she can’t manage to go one evening being Kind to you! And Not making it about herself. she can come.. If she doesn’t.. can we talk about elopement? your family would get over an elopement vs not inviting her. and you are stressing over details. I can make it romantic.. i can try.. “ 

secretly you were debuting on bringing the subject up. you could easily see yourself. wearing your dress (that you already hade in your closest)  just you, Derek, the pack.  And just doing a Live feed so your family could watch from home. and that be that. simple. and easy. but you felt gulity you wouldn’t midn the big wedding. but you knew your sister would destory the wedding in some way or another. 

the back of your mind you felt guilty. Guilty that you were planning to Not give yuor mom a picture-perfect wedding, or your dad. all because you didn’t trust your sister. and you hated that you didn’t always wanted a sister. A sister who cared and loved you. you squeezed his hand tightly. it made perfect sense. a Test Run if she could bite her tongue and let someone else be in the spotlight for one evening you would feel better about spending a lot of money and doing a big wedding. 

“you don’t want a big wedding?’ 

“Honestly i just want to see you in the dress and us getting married I don’t care about the other stuff.” 

you tapped your thumb over his hand breathing deeply, ‘fine- but when she fails I’m telling my parents we to run off to vegas or something.” 

Derek was stunned he thought he would have to convince you to give up the big wedding you already found a perfect church. But the relief on your face. he shifted weakly, ‘did you want to Elope?” 

you sighed heavily, “I could go either way- I would love to share our love with our friends and family. but we could easily be attacked by a new threat any day, and my sister- I could easily just say “fuck it” and Elope then come back to have a party.” he rubbed his face taking a second to speak he didn’t want you to know How much he hated your Sister. and didn’t want to push his own wishes. he wanted to be open and honest. and it was killing him.

“so?” he finally said as you rolled our shoulders, ‘It’s your day too babe. Clearly, we both have worry’s about my sister.. So yea.. lest do a Trail Run do a  big family dinner. and if she behaves we will have to talk about if we want a big Wedding. if she doesn’t. no questions asked. elopement.” 

Derek knew your sister wouldn’t be able to contain herself and would screw up the evening in one way or another.  Derek might of expected her to somehow to take their attention from them. But he wasn’t expecting her to fall off her chair right when he was about to make A speech about family and love. She screamed out in pain as Derek headed over to help her, as her boyfriend went to get a car. she was having intense stomach pain. but when Derek got closer he realized he didn’t hear a second heartbeat of how loud the restaurant was. he couldn’t say he heard one all night. but Everyone dashed to the hospital. you were beside yourself. gutted at the idea your sister lost the baby. 

“this doesn’t count.” 

once they were sitting down waiting the family was all over the waiting room as Derek got a pain of annoyance and gulit for being furious they woul dhave to have another dinner. and suffer with your sister trying to steal all the attention. even those even she couldn’t predict but even those. he secretly figured she did this on purpose. 

then Melisa walked out you got up dashing over to her, Derek followed as Melisa spoke, ‘what made you think she was pregnant?” 

“she told us- wait your telling me she isn’t? why she in pain then?” 

Melissa stepped closer, “they can’t a single thing wrong with her.- is this some new threat?” 

“Only to us” Derek stated as you hit him in the chest quickly, as you tried to wrap it around your mind, “wait so she- She isn’t pregnant?

melisa shook her head, “no signs she ever was. No sign of a miscarriage. Nothing.” 

“WHAT!” you screamed out. Derek stepped back stunned as you turned to your family, “she wasn’t even pregnant.. she’s fucking faking it!” 

Your mom tried to defend your sister but your dad said he thought he saw her drinking earlier. Derek has only seen you angry twice. each time shocked him. but this time was different he could smell the anger and hate radiating off you, as you stood tall. and reminded him for when he first met you when you were bashing his uncle in the head with a hammer when he tried to bite you. you rarely show this side of yourself. you were the only person that Derek knew who could let things slide and let it go. but this was different. Derek knew you cried for your cousin when your sister announced this baby. 

“Derek!” you snapped which made him jump as you spoke, “you were Right! we are Not trying again! Fuck it!’ 

“excuse you fuck what?’” your aunt asked as Derek stepped forward grabbing your hand tightly ‘we asked everyone here tonight for dinner to see if Beckie could contain herself and let Us have the spotlight for One night. we made a deal. if she couldn’t we would elope. And Clearly she couldn’t let us have some of the spotlight.” 

the family was torn on the notion your dad said you should of givin her a warning but you were quick to add that she would of behaved tonight and be extra dramatic at the wedding.” 

  by the time your ssiter came out, the waiting room was full of questiosn and threats, your mother was crying. but you turned to Derek. “take me home?” he nodded he’s head leaving your family to deal with your sister. 

after that. Derek started working and plotting. he knew you had your wedding and he Knew you were upset about the dinner so he wanted the wedding to be special. so he planned to rent out a church. it was the one you wanted. it had big windwos and the walls were windows and it was in the middle of the woods it was a small church. he got Scott and the pack to help decorate the chruch on Christmas eve. which it was already pretty decorated for chirstmas but they addded string lights. while Lydia took you to get your nails done, and a Spa day. a early christmas gift. you were finally realxed and at ease. then Lydia took you to the church and you asked why they were there. 

“come on.” Lyida walked into the church as you followed. seeing the soft warm lights, the pews were decorated with flowers, and lights, and the room was filled with just string lights and candles you gasped stunned as Lydia stepped over, “come on.’ 

“where we going?” 

“getting you ready for your wedding.” you laughed as you nodded your head as you let her drag you away. a Few minutes later you were at the back of the chruch seeing Derek standing at the front looking neverous you ran over and pulled him into a kiss. he smiled birghtly cupping your face. “best of both worlds?” you smiled nodding your head ‘best of both worlds.” 

[inbarfink]

Okay, so there's one thing I REALLY like about the ending of the Shock Treatment 2015 Stage Musical Version and while it ties in to most of what I was talking about in my previous post, I just couldn't find a way to incorporate it into the text without it either not getting it's due attention or kinda taking over so I decided to separate it into it's own post....

So like I wrote before, "Shock Treatment" the movie's ending tries to go for a sort of bittersweet tone, with our heroes escaping

While the villains still 100% succeeded in their schemes and are quite literally rolling in they money they made exploiting the entire town's desire for social approval and fame, and are probably going to do this again somewhere else soon enough.

Buuuut... since basically every remotely-likable character has successfully escaped their scheme (including Oscar Drill and the Bits, who are otherwise VERY minor characters), it's actually kinda difficult to actually feel the sense of dread or pity or moral outrage that such a situation would create in real life. After all, everyone that stayed behind in Denton were always characterized as, at best, two-dimensional buffoonish conformist cartoons. We don't spend enough time with them to feel like actual humans whose flaws are getting exploited.

And also, our main foursome doesn't seem to care either! These people were all their neighbors and family and friends just two days ago, and their big happy final musical number just doesn't have any time for them to consider how terrible it is that Farley's plan succeeded or if they feel sad for any of the people they've left behind.

If the characters don't care... and the audience isn't really given a reason why they should care about these people more than the characters do... Then there's just a lot less edge in seeing this kinda 'Bad Guys Win' story.

And now, the Stage version already does better with this first point with their version of Ralph Hapshatt as one of the story's main leads, a very well-developed characters and also the guy who, by the end of the story, got happily strapped into a shock treatment machine that was illegally modified by his own hands just because he cannot refuse a chance to have a starring TV role

And also also, someone that our main characters do care about.

Despite the hostility of... basically all of their on-stage interactions, Betty still comes for her ex-husband, still singing "Anyhow, Anyhow", even if she can't stand him most of the time, she still wanted to save him from his own mistakes

But Janet stops her.

Maybe Maybe because it'll be too big of a risk to try to save him now, or maybe because they have too much to lose at this moment and they can't miss this opportunity to escape or just because Ralph isn't worth the effort and... maybe Janet is right about at least some of this, but abandoning Ralph in the hands of Farley and Co. is not an easy decision for Betty to make, and it probably isn't for Brad and Janet either, and it's definitely not easy for the audience.

Because unlike the majority of the movie's Dentonites, Ralph does get enough depth to feel like a person. A self-centered asshole? Sure, but an asshole person, more than just a caricature. And he's a person that people still cared for, and him dying from a failed electroshock therapy experiment on live television is still a bitter element in our heroes' sweet freedom.

And I just... really love how this is kinda creates new Meaning for 'Anyhow, Anyhow'. Like, in general, this adaptation is really good with subtly modifying and tweaking and recontextualizing songs to fit better within the Context of the story (For example, "Looking for Trade Fame" is REALLY great) and this one is just... really strong.

Like, the original context is not totally lost. I mean, outside of the shift from "our two main couples are totally going to Fuck and maybe have a foursome I dunno"

To "they are DEFINITELY having a threesome"

But this is still the happy ending song about no matter how hard things get, our heroes are going to live their lives and be together and fuck. But also...

"We just gotta keep going" as the thing that Janet tells Betty to stop her from trying to save Ralph. As the bitter reminder that sometimes you and your loved ones remaining free and happy and living their lives means leaving some people behind. Because sometimes life throws a lot of bad shit your way, sometimes the wind blows in a very cruel direction.

Because also...

"We just gotta keep going" as what Farley and the McKinleys say to themselves. They are also 'just gotta keep going', keep on going on exploiting and harming more and more people.

And this just does such a great job at conveying a bittersweet tone to the story's ending. It still conveys the happiness and freedom and love and triumph of Brad, Janet and Betty's personal victory, but also the personal tragedy of Ralph's story, and an ominous reminder of what Farley and Co are doing and will continue to do.

It's just.... the Shock Treatment Stage Musical is SUCH a great adaptation of the story and I really hope it gets more performances at some point.

[lovedlovingly]

also last night I went to bed and I tried to figure out yet again, as I've tried since I was 16, what I wanna do with life, what I'd like to "accomplish" to feel like life is worth living, and yet again I still have no clue. which lead me to go "life is too much for the living" and it reminded me how suicidal I was growing up, that I made a pact with myself at 22 to wait til 25 to see if life was "better" and THEN I could kms because I was tired of having my brain tell me to do so constantly. so the next mantra became "youre not 25 yet" and then I turned 25 and it was WEIRD and by then I'd rewired my brain so I wasn't thinking suicidal thoughts 24/7 but still got low at times. and had by then kinda found the interest in what new music existed or art or movies to watch and if I died I'd miss out so I was like alright let's stick around for that. and by now I'm just. why do I even need any purpose at all, I'm alive, when the odds were always against me. i survived a family that wanted me actively dead, I survived a brain that wanted me dead, I survived a town that wanted me dead

often I think about that story about "is it morally ok to sacrifice a child if everyone else in town becomes happy from it" because I always felt like that sacrifice, and that child accepted their role in that town, died for them, and then stood up on their own two feet and walked to the next town and next town and next town. always careful to not be the next sacrifice here aswell, to make sure no one else was sacrificed. i think that's all I am. not all I have to be, but I kinda find comfort in surviving and yeah

I'm expected to have done more by 30. more than survived. but a whole family a whole village wanted me dead. and I died. and here i still am. i think I'm doing fine with those circumstances. i think I'm allowed to be insignificant, just "some guy", a part of life. instead of the one who had to die for everyone else to be happy. but I did die. and I will always have to carry that child with me, and her screams. and I feed her everything her little heart desires, whatever family friends and society refused to. i will make sure she survives

[silverislander]

hello hello im here to learn about juno please 🤲 2, 10, 12, 18, 23, 28, 30, 33 and 34? :3

FUCK YEAH THAT'S SO MANY

2. what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favourite song?

yes!! i have playlists for p much all of my dnd characters inc her. i know she likes classical music, a lot of instrumentals, she has a much more formal taste than most of my other characters (cal gets rock music, neri gets pop). the playlist tends to be more so stuff that i like listening to that fits them than stuff they'd listen to tho, so it's not very representative of her tastes. the song i usually associate her with is nuvo orchestra's merry-go-round of life from howl's moving castle, mostly bc i see it playing during One backstory scene

10. if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favourite gem?

she doesn't tend to wear much! that's a little surprising given how formally she tends to dress and less surprising given that she's butch and watches haven't been invented yet. she usually only has earrings (usually just plain black ones, sometimes gold if it's an Occasion) and a gold tie pin. that pin was given to her by her best friend who she is Gal Pals with (they're not together but god they should be. Circumstances keep them apart) and it's her spellcasting focus as well. i think she'd probably like tanzanite! she likes dark purple and blue

12. how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

iirc i made her two years ago during the summer! mostly made her up while i was bored at work knowing that my friend group was planning on playing strahd soon. best i got for her birthday is that it's midwinter, i didn't specify beyond that. i think she likes birthdays but she's not going to go crazy abt it. she's introverted so she'll probably stay home or just walk around town, get herself a small treat and head home again to read for a while (unless keziah, juno's not-gf and government assigned extrovert, interrupts her to drop by and demands an actual celebration), but she'd be happy to plan a party for someone else who would enjoy one more. probably plans keziah's every year

18. their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

ok so unlike cal (and neri, who is an impressionable child) juno actually has Morals. she's never killed a person and doesn't want to, lying is wrong, stealing is wrong. Unless. and this is a big unless. it's necessary and unavoidable. if lying will save your life, it's ok to lie. if you have to kill to survive, then you have to do what must be done. if, like juno, you're a dhampir who has to feed on human spinal fluid in order to live without blinding migraines and what is essentially withdrawals, it's ok to steal that/ask your best friend to do medical malpractice a little bit so you don't lose your mind from hunger. this is going to be really fun in practice bc her whole party are almost all "violence won't solve this problem but it might create newer, more fun problems so we can't rule out the possibility" people

23. how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

bc it's dnd i regrettably have to do juno's voice so it's a bit hard ghsdfdjkk. i do an australian accent while playing her (probably not a good one. but who cares) and i think i tend to speak at around the same pitch i usually do. she sounds kind of shy and can talk a bit on the slower side. i don't think she's an excellent singer, but she can probably carry a tune!

28. how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

oh i think abt this a LOT. so it's hard to get juno to genuinely admit that she hates someone bc she wants everyone to like her and think she's a good person so fucking bad. the guy who turned her by literally injecting her with vampire blood? now she does hate him, he ruined her life. but the worst she really does abt it is give him the cold shoulder, trash talk him to friends and hold a lifelong grudge. she won't blow up on someone she dislikes unless they do smth awful first, she's going to keep all of that inside until it eats away at her and try to remain civil

she is a big acts of service person if she likes someone tho. my favourite example is w her and keziah bc keziah bakes, but she's really, really bad at it. the only thing she's made successfully is sugar cookies, everything else burns, is undercooked or just tastes awful and she won't stop bc keziah needs to be good at this and also everything else she does ever. and juno eats anything keziah gives her. no matter how bad it tastes juno will try to choke it down, at least some of it, to make her feel better. she has literally gotten food poisoning over it and she'd do it again. like if juno is friends with you you're gonna know bc she's going to be trying to do your chores for you or offering to deal with that thing you didn't want to do. every time she goes home to visit her parents she winds up weeding the garden w her mom even tho she hates gardening

30. do they smell like anything notable?

probably tea! she really likes tea, also uses it to hide the taste of spinal fluid when she drinks it so she has it often. i think she likes fruity kinds like apple or raspberry :) and/or ink, bc this is the era of writing with quills

33. if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

it really depends on who you ask, bc people have some varied ideas of her. i think most of her coworkers (who she was around most of the time) would say she seems nice enough but they don't really feel like they know her, maybe kind of cagey/nervous but really into her subject. the party, at least as of rn, would probably call her an uptight nerd. they're both pretty correct lol

34. how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

i think she'd be like... objectively correct, just on the facts? but her self image is just FUCKED. juno calls herself a teacher first, introduces herself as dr vanidestine half the time, would probably talk abt her job more than her personal traits. the problem is that 1. she is very self conscious but also 2. literally thinks she can outsmart the demon she's bound to serving. she won't say she's smarter than anyone, but she does really think she's smarter than most of the people she knows. it's kind of insidious bc she can't know how incorrect her self perception is, and it's abt to bite her in the ass

[the-corvidae-know]

Drabble 2

Prompt: “I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.”

The fire at their camp, which had still clung to some form of life when Faithful left, was now fed and happy, even this late at night. She internally groaned. Someone was up.

“Faithful, I can see you. The cover isn’t that dense.” A perturbed voice called out from the camp.

Niveus damn it. It was Tarius. The man was much more of a rule follower than Alastor and cared too much for Faithful’s safety than they would like. It was sweet when he doted, but get frustrating after a time.

She tried to pull on some modicum of innocence and pulled the package she had brought behind their back. “Oh hey, Tarius! How has your night been? Sorry if I woke you, I just had to use the little girl’s room. I’ll just be heading to bed now then-” As they were speaking, they slowly backed towards their tent, But in a few quick bounds, Tarius loomed over them and said, “You’ve been gone for almost an hour. And you’re covered in- what is this? Soot?”

He brushed a hand over her cheek, wiping away some of the soot there. That just made her want to leave more. Lately, they had been grasping to understand their feelings for Tarius. She had always thought of him as a good friend, but it had recently changed into something… other. And right now, in the middle of the night was certainly not the time to deal with those feelings.

“What have you got behind your back? It must be important if you went out at night to get it.” Tarius reached for the package as Faithful moved away, resulting in a little dance that ended with Faithful in a chokehold and the package in Tarius’s other hand. After releasing his friend with a “Sorry,” he removed the thin cloth concealing it.

It was a shining longsword with a golden guard and pommel, and deep green leather wrapped around the grip. While simple in its adornments, Anyone with half a brain could feel the magic emanating from it. Tarius held it in a reverential tone while Faithful quietly said,

“It’s for you! You broke your old sword, so I got you a new one.” While before they looked innocent, now they just looked guilty. While stealing wasn’t exactly against her moral code, she didn’t do it unless she absolutely had to.

In their defence, Tarius had looked crushed when he broke his sword. Apparently, it was his father’s. Swords were precious to Tarius and Tarius was precious to Faithful, so this made the most sense to her.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then Tarius spoke, sounding more confused than anything. “Where did you even get it?”

Faithful told Tarius how she went to the Smithy in the closest town to first try to purchase it. Quickly realizing they did not have enough money, they broke in. But since Dwarves need hardly any sleep, many were still up and bustling. They used their magic to put everyone asleep, turned off their fires so nothing burned, and grabbed the sword that emanated the most magical energy.

She hesitated a moment in the middle of her story but then continued to tell that while she had been leaving, She tripped not once, but twice over the dwarves she had put to sleep, and got covered in soot in the process.

Tarius and Faithful were smiling at the end of her story when Tarius suddenly stood up and frowned.

“No, I can’t smile at you, I’m mad. You can’t sneak out like that. You could get hurt or worse.” He looked into her eyes before letting out a tired sigh. Go to sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.“

Faithful, not really that chastised, turned to head to go back to their tent.

“And I’m keeping the sword. Thanks, that was really great of you.”

And Faithful went to sleep smiling.

[dippedanddripped]

Old Nollywood aesthetics and fashion may be considered trendy today, but the films were not always so well-regarded. In the 90s and early 2000s, when these movies were made and watched in parlours across Nigerian homes as they were shot, straight-to-video, they were considered as bad entertainment, or ‘low culture’. To watch and enjoy Nollywood films was to celebrate mediocrity. But today, nostalgic young Millennials and Gen Zers are overlooking the jarring audio, grainy pictures, and sometimes hammy acting, to appreciate not only the grooming and style of the actors, but the original and diverse stories that reflect unique Nigerian experiences.

It was for this reason that sisters Tochi and Ebele Anueyiagu started Nolly Babes, a nostalgic Instagram account dedicated to celebrating the cinematic period’s women. Started in December 2017, their first post was of Nollywood’s biggest star Genevieve Nnaji; a still taken from 2004 film Sharon Stone In Abuja, directed by Adim Williams. Nnaji plays the titular character, a sexually liberated young woman who uses her beauty and charm to ensnare unassuming men into doing her bidding.

The account is an ode to the female characters of old Nollywood who were often portrayed as warning examples. The storylines were steeped in moral principles rooted in the patriarchal culture and the dominant Christian religion of Southern Nigeria. A large number of the female characters were considered immoral because they kissed other women, challenged men, smoked and drank, or wore mini skirts. Today, Nolly Babes and similar accounts are reimagining these women, taking their scenes out of the moralistic context of the films, and turning them into iconic feminist personas.

The first time Nollywood content seeped into the mainstream internet consciousness can be traced back to 2017 when videos of Nollywood’s favourite comedic duo Chinedu Ikedieze and Osita Iheme, better known as Aki and Pawpaw, rose to popularity due mostly to the influence of a now-defunct Twitter account @nollywoodroll ran by Nicole, a woman based in Brazil.

Their memes became the go-to reaction videos for expressing a wide range of emotions: joy, disappointment, sadness, frustration. The appeal was in seeing children making mischief or in adult situations – drinking beer and smoking cigars, wooing bigger women, or in oversized suits shouting instructions at people twice their size. Although both Ikedieze and Iheme were in their 20s in the early 2000s when most of the films were made, they mostly played children because of their body stature. By 2019, the memes had achieved such virality that brands like Rihanna’s Fenty would use them for social media clout.

Theodora Imaan Beauvais is the curator of Yung Nollywood, another archive of clips and stills from old Nollywood paying homage to its controversial female characters, after screenshotting moments from Nollywood she found “appealing or inspirational”. Yung Nollywood is remarkably distinct from Nolly Babes for its subtitling of the films’ stills from Nollywood films, something she attributes to Tumblr. While the idea to give witty captions to the actors’ facial expressions came from watching Netflix. “I thought, ‘If someone could describe Nollywood reactions in short phrases it’d be an art form on its own,’ and I became that someone.’”

In December 2019, Tochi and Ebele hosted a Nollywood-themed party in Lagos. Nollywood actor and musician Nonso Bassey attended the party dressed in a two-piece jean set and bucket hat, a signature look of the bad boy/alpha male archetype, and a role reprised multiple times by older actors such as Hanks Anuku, Emeka Ike, and Jim Iyke. Since that party, Nonso has attended social functions and premieres in outfits that make a nod to the fashion choices of that era of Nollywood. He insists, though, that he isn’t cosplaying Nollywood characters of that era. “I’ve always been attracted to the idea of merging old world charm with a new school approach,” he said.

The party caused a cultural stir amongst Nigerians and Africans both at home and in the diaspora – every other week, there seems to be a Nollywood-themed party held either in Lagos or London. Take for instance friends and business partners Imani Okunubi and Aseosa Uwagboe, two Nigerian-British kids who grew up in the UK. Nollywood was one of the ways they could connect back to their roots. That experience informs their event brand, Lasgidi to London, targeted at Nigerians living in the UK. “We wanted to create events that were reminiscent of the Naija hall parties (Owambe) we attended as kids, as we don’t want to see that culture die,” Aseosa said. Their next owambe is a Nollywood-themed party and guests are expected to come dressed in their “best nolly Y2K aesthetic”.

Below, the Nolly Babes sisters talk about creating and hosting the first Nollywood-themed party and the cultural moment it has inspired.

How did that first event come about – please take me through it, from the planning to how it turned out?

Nolly Babes: From the inception of Nolly Babes, we knew we had to throw a party. Fashion is a huge part of what makes Nolly Babes different from other Nollywood-themed pages and we knew we were the only ones that could set Nolly Babes as the dress code and have people commit as they did. There are many iconic Nollywood scenes and scenarios. The daughter meeting her evil mother-in-law, the ominous visit to the Babalawo, the campus stroll – just the mere mention of these scenes evokes images that have been embedded in the minds of our fellow Nollywood enthusiasts. The party scene is probably the most iconic of them all. Whether it’s in a club, a mansion while mum and dad are out of town (but coming home early to crash the whole thing) or poolside, the Nolly Babes party scene has its staples: mad music, dancing, and sick outfits.

December in Lagos is notoriously hectic. On each day, there are day parties, beach hangouts, concerts, and we just knew we had to be a part of it. Our flyer was the first thing we made sure was done right, and that has been replicated (but never duplicated) many many times. We went through at least six drafts of that until we got the flyer to be a realistic replica of the home video covers from the golden era. The DJs Kemi Lijadu and vIVENDII Sounds understood the assignment and played music from the Nolly Babes era. We’re talking Tony Tetuila, Mo Hitz, Wande Coal, Plantation Boyz… We curated a special cocktail menu: Genny Colladas, Jim Iyke’s Hard Lemonade, MargaRita Dominic, and our Lagos Island Iced Tea, in tribute to Nollywood stars Genevieve Nnaji, Jim Iyke, and Rita Dominic respectively. We had a video projection on the famous red wall at Nok showing a mashup of emblematic scenes. We were partying while seeing images of a young Jim Iyke dressed just like many of the attendees were dressed. It was magical! We have an event we’re planning in New York for the summer – it’s going to be a madness.

Did you envisage it becoming the cultural movement it’s now become?

Nolly Babes: We really didn’t. We hosted the party because we knew people were taking inspiration from our page for styling jobs and music video treatments, and wanted to give everyone a chance to recreate some of their favourite looks. Now every week we see people planning Nollywood-themed parties and sending people to our page for references. It’s awesome. Toke Makinwa even recently attended a Nolly Babes-themed party and she was dressed as a character we have immortalised – Regina Askia in President’s Daughter. She killed it! Even though the character wasn’t referenced, it was clear as day and it was awesome to see that she pulled it off! Honestly, when we see people really pay attention to detail and execute the theme well it’s so, so dope.

How has TikTok helped grow Nollywood's influence? You posted a scene from Girls Cot, the famous “you stink with poverty” clip on TikTok and it went viral and birthed these recreations even by non-Africans.

Nolly Babes: We’re just happy to see that another aspect of Nollywood that we champion – the iconic scenes and one-liners – is also resonating across the world. We see Nolly Babes as an archival work and as much as we focus on beauty and looks on Instagram, it’s nice to be able to point people in the direction of the scenes that are forever embedded in our brains. These are scenes we recreated in jest ourselves before there was even a Nolly Babes to begin with, so to see it catching on TikTok is exciting and a new frontier for us to fully explore. I think what distinguishes Nolly Babes from other Nollywood pages and what contributes to our TikTok success is that we really watch Nollywood movies. We grew up watching these movies and continue to do so now so we can capture those moments in films that the casual consumer or poster of Nollywood content might not.

What are your thoughts on Nollywood’s influence on the Alté scene? Music videos of artists such as Lady Donli and Odunsi nod to the aesthetic and fashion styles of that era.

Nolly Babes: Nollywood, and specifically the aesthetic we have shone a spotlight on, is probably one of the biggest influences in terms of visuals in that scene right now. I have never seen so many Eucharia (Anunobi) eyebrows on TV and we love it! It’s awesome to see our images and scenes being used in treatments and storyboards. If we’re being candid, we think it would be great if we got the chance to step into our stylist/creative direction bag and help with the execution of the aesthetic.

“The bottom line is really that Nolly Babes has brought what was already an international cultural influence to the modern social media realm with a new lens” – Nolly Babes

How far do you see Nollywood's influence on pop culture, beyond Nigeria and Africa?

Nolly Babes: When we moved to New York we found our Dominican and South American friends had also grown up watching Nollywood films. The bottom line is really that Nolly Babes has brought what was already an international cultural influence to the modern social media realm with a new lens. Nollywood clips were online everywhere – but it was always in a comedic way. Aki and PawPaw are meme gods now, and that’s because their expressions transcend cultural boundaries. Black Twitter eats that stuff up.

Nolly Babes chooses to center the beauty, style, and iconic imagery, even the home decor with our #NollyDecor hashtag of the golden era of Nollywood. We share the makeup, accessories, fashion, iconic phrases, and scenes in a way that isn’t just comedic but inspirational and aesthetically groundbreaking. I see Nollywood being at the centre of this Y2K resurgence that is happening all over the world, from TV to runways and fashion collections. That era is coming back around and, this time, the Black experience is being revisited and centered in a way it wasn’t back in the late 90s and 2000s. (Black people) were always the originators of the trends and this time they’re tapping into the source and Nollywood, particularly the era we celebrate as Nolly Babes, is a great resource for that.

Follow Nolly Babes on Instagram

[ohheyitsokay]

trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

>>

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

-

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

-

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

-

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

-

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss. 

“You.”

-

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

-

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue. 

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option. 

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them. 

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

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@grogusmum

[themand0lorian]

Take This Sinking Boat

Summary: A wedding of an old friend leads to self-realization and new beginnings.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating:  PG-13

Words: ~4600 (Part 1 of 2)

Tags: FLUFF, reader and Frankie meet in a bar, weddings, mentions of pregnancy, beaches, mentions of infidelity, reader has a life plan that mentions ages but works for all (18+) readers!

Notes: A little late ont he draw but I did it! 5 fics in 5 days! This one even turned into a two parter! Thank you again to everyone for 300+ followers!!

Based on the song Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard (from Once)

I don't know you

But I want you

All the more for that

Waves crashed along the shore in the distance, the sound wafting its way up to the outdoor bar you had posted at for the night, blowing in with the salty sea air. You took another swig of your fruity cocktail, appropriately beach themed to go with the rest of this quaint shore town, and looked out at the coast, stars reflecting in the rippling waves as you got lost in your thoughts.

Tomorrow was your college roommate’s wedding. Not quite a destination wedding, but still out of town, you had taken some of your accrued time off from work to make the beach stay into an actual vacation for a few days, before you had to grin and bear the true purpose of the trip, and now that it was tomorrow, you were dreading it.

It’s not like you weren’t happy for Jenna. You had spent plenty of nights lying awake, giggling and talking about boys in your tiny dorm room, only a few feet away from each other. You still consider her one of your best friends, though time and distance had brought you further apart than when you lived together, but you had always kept in touch. You never met her husband to be, Ben, but you figure if she loves him, and he loves her, they must be good together.

It was more of the idea of the wedding getting you down. Getting back together after all these years; you remember telling Jenna your life plan. By now, you should’ve had it all figured out—dating then married to the love of your life by 27, pregnant by 30. A great job, a big house with a yard and maybe a dog. Instead, you have none of that--a mediocre job that was going nowhere fast, no love life to speak of, a tiny studio shared with your three-legged cat Ralph. Your life was far from the dreams you used to talk about late into the night, and facing the future you thought you’d have by now felt more like a failure than a celebration; like you were drowning rather than flying.

You had spent most of the night nursing a single cocktail, reflecting on things and trying to ignore the rowdier bar patrons as the night wore on. There were men playing darts, hooting and hollering as each one made a throw; a group of older women on their third glass of wine and giggling like children; an elderly man sitting alone at the bar, a paper tucked under his cup. You came to the hole in the wall because you wanted to make a new plan for your life, but you had felt so stuck for so long; you hoped the crash and fall of the waves could shake you from your routine.

Instead, a man shakes you from it with a shy hello. You didn’t even see him come over, didn’t hear him over the rolling of the waves, but when he speaks, all your attention turns to him.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before—I’m Frankie.” You introduce yourself politely and take him in. He’s ruggedly handsome; tanned skin, auburn hair curling from under a worn cap that he places and replaces on his head nervously. He has a dazzling smile, shining teeth exposed to try to ease some of the awkwardness he clearly feels.

“I think you’ve got the best spot in this place,” he says quietly, looking out over the ocean like you just were. “Can I sit?” He gestures to the empty stool next to you, and you nod wearily. When his butt hits the chair, you hear more hollering from behind you; both you and Frankie turning to find the source. The men playing darts have now given up on the game, and instead are watching you with rapt attention, cheering as if you were the next big match.

“Friends of yours?” you ask somewhat sarcastically, and Frankie shoots them a death glare before giving you a sheepish look.

“Yeah—I’m the DD tonight. They bet I wouldn’t come up and talk to you. And then Pope bet even if I did you’d turn me down.” He rolls his eyes as you laugh.

"Turn you down for what? All you asked was if you could sit.”

“I guess for anything,” he replies, a full laugh escaping his lips to match yours. The two of you converse for a while, mundane conversation between strangers; his friends eventually losing interest and going back to their darts. You find out that he’s ex-army like most of the people in the area, that he used to be a pilot, that he moved to the beach after service when he was a little lost on his future. He tells you about his history in the little beach town, how everyone knows everyone, and that’s why his friends had set their sights on you, a clear outsider.

He clams up around his current work, only indicating that he works for the Beach Public Works Department, and you choose not to press, changing the subject to a funny story about Ralph instead. When the conversation turns to your work, you explain in as little detail as possible how miserable you are, how it was never something you planned on doing. Despite just meeting, Frankie’s presence is soothing and trustworthy; he listens emphatically, nodding and reacting at all the right moments, and you feel like you could tell him a secret and he would take it to his grave. When you finish explaining your woes, you finally make eye contact with him again; its piercing, like he can see directly through you, through your polite conversation to every feeling inside.

“Sounds like—sounds like you need a fresh start,” he offers, clearing his throat. His hand dances closer to yours on the bar top, fingertips close to touching, when one of his friends saunters over, clearly plastered.

“Fiiiiish—it’s time—to go. Say goodnight. Big day tomorrow,” he offers by way of explanation, and Frankie looks to his lap, trying to dismiss the drunk man.

“Sounds like it’s time for you guys to go,” you chuckle, and he smiles warmly, but is clearly disappointed as his friend stumbles back to their group.

“Yeah—I guess so. Listen, I know this is fast, but—could I take you out sometime? I could show you around, we could—"

“Frankie, you don’t even know me,” you chuckle, swirling the ice in your forgotten drink. Since Frankie arrived, you hadn’t touched it.

“That’s—that’s what I like about you,” he whispers like a secret between you, running a soft hand over your arm. “I know everyone in this town, but you? No history. My fresh start.” You shiver into your straw, but Frankie’s friends are causing further and further raucous, and you know you only have a few more moments before this is all over.

“I’ll tell you what, Frankie. I leave on Monday. If I see you again before I leave, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,” you wink. You know how unlikely it would be, fate bringing you back together, but Frankie smiles broadly and agrees, saying goodnight as he leads his particularly smashed friends out to the car.

Words fall through me

And always fool me

And I can't react

You choose a seat in the back of the ceremony. You’re a crier at weddings, this much is true, but it seems like an unspoken thing that the back is where you should be; the very front reserved for family, the next few rows for adoring couples who think of their own weddings and smile. And you, alone, in the back, fiddling on your phone to keep busy. Soon, the music swells, signaling the arrival of the bridal party, and you’re already teary, watching as each bridesmaid walks down the aisle, flowers in hand. When the chords change in the song, you know it’s the signal that the bride will enter soon; a young girl in a frilly white dress struggles to throw petals on the ground, eventually dumping her entire basket half way down the aisle to the laughs of the crowd.

A lot of people tell you to look at the groom when the bride enters, to see his face as he sees his future wife. The groom and groomsmen are always unceremoniously ushered to the front of the space, no fanfare or frills like the bridesmaids, so that’s really the only time most people look to the groom. You, however, have a different plan.

First, watch Jenna walk in on her father’s arm, absolutely glowing. Her broad smile and beautiful gown get the tears in your eyes. Then, look to the groom. Ben is glowing as well, grinning from ear to ear at his future wife. Finally, your favorite part—look at the groomsmen. Usually hungover, uninterested, or half asleep, they are by far the most entertaining. Your eyes wander down the line of men—one who looks none-too-happy to be there, one who’s making googly eyes at a bridesmaid across the way and one—one who is staring straight at you.

It’s Frankie. He’s dressed up, no ball cap or mussed brown curls, but you know its him. Your heart cinches in your chest; you’re too shocked to even react, and he looks almost the same. The rest of the men are the friends from the bar last night, Ben probably the most drunk of them all but the most composed now. You can tell his moment of realization, too, his eyes widening as he fully recognizes you. You know you can both play it off like a reaction to Jenna, but somehow, it feels like you’re the only two in the room.

The ceremony goes as expected, a grand kiss followed by Jenna and Ben walking out hand in hand, the bridal party following. Frankie has one arm hooked with a bridesmaid, keeping her upright as she toddles in her heels, one arm carrying the flower girl, but his eyes stay on you as he descends, almost in awe of your presence as you give him a shy smile.

You choose to leave right after the ceremony, not stick around for pictures or small talk. You know it’s a little childish, trying to escape Frankie when you will be at the reception in a few hours, but you need a few minutes to yourself. You breathe deeply, lost in thought again.

You had told him you would go out with him if you saw him again. Now that you had—was that really what you wanted? You know he’d never force you into it, he’d leave the ball in your court. But you knew, deep down—you wanted more than a fling, more than a casual date on vacation that would turn to a story later in life. You wanted to see your own future husband at the end of the aisle one day—and if he would be wearing a tattered ball cap, you couldn’t be sure. But you weren’t from the area, you didn’t even really know Frankie to know if you wanted something more meaningful. Taking deep gulps of air, you drove yourself to the reception.

-----

Frankie searched for your endlessly in the receiving line. He’s pretty sure he’s ruined every photo, looking over the photographer’s shoulder at any sign of movement in hopes it would be you. Will is nursing his hangover, Santi has set his eyes on the maid of honor, the bride’s younger sister—Frankie doesn’t even know her name. Genevieve? Julia? She makes Benny happy, a broad smile splitting his face and lovesick eyes that the guys will rib him for later.

He thinks of when he had that. When he looked at his ex-wife like that, when he thought fate had brought him to her. It’s hard for him, to be at a wedding. To be standing at the altar, to watch two people swear their lives to each other when he knows how quickly it can all be taken away. He sees the bridal party come in the ceremony, but instead of girls in matching dresses, its him walking through the door; it’s him seeing her with the neighbor, it’s him begging forgiveness for problems he didn’t even know they had. Everything was his fault; he was always working, he had too much baggage. He cared too little, he cared too much. Ending in a messy divorce and a permanent goodbye, Frankie wasn’t exactly keen on marriage.

Then, the only good thing in his life walks in; in a white tulle dress, spreading petals individually down the aisle. If there was one good thing that came out of that relationship, it was Marisol, their daughter. Sure, her mother leaving, a bag in her hands and an infant she wanted nothing to do with in his, had made things difficult, but Marisol was his everything. He moved to the beach, to be by the boys. He got his act together, raised his girl, got help in every sense of the word. For what she was lacking in a mother, she made up for with a doting father, three obsessive uncles, and the seaside as her playground.

So when the bride walked in, and instead of her, he looked to the side--anything to forget about that previous white dress that had brought him the best and worst of his life—and saw you, the beautiful stranger from the bar the night before, Frankie was pretty sure fate was trying to sway his opinion on weddings. When he couldn’t find you afterwards, he realized once again that fate, however prolific, is still just as cruel.

-----

Your eyes scan the seating arrangements at the reception, finding your assigned table before walking through the doors to the ballroom. You know Jenna enough to know this is her dream wedding, each touch some mix of her and what must be Ben’s style. You can’t believe Ben and Frankie knew each other—you figured what Frankie said was true; everyone in this small town knew everyone. You settled at your table, introducing yourself to the relative strangers to either side of you; all around your age, one couple was newly engaged, practically taking notes on what to do for their own wedding. The other was expecting, the woman clearly about to pop as her husband stroked her pregnant belly lovingly. And then there was you, and the empty chair next to you, a glaring “and guest” missing from your invitation.

You listened to the couples chat about their weddings, about whether they would be having a boy or girl or when the newlyweds would be next, staying mostly silent. You didn’t really have much to add to the conversation, mostly focused on schooling your expression into excitement rather than bitter disappointment. They should have been you; your husband at your side, pregnant with the product of your love. The followed the plan. The wedding venue did the same, and at promptly 7 PM, you were saved by the announcement of the bridal party.

-----

Frankie walked in with a young woman on his arm, barely smiling; he was searching the crowd, eager to get away from Jackie? Jessica?’s overeager coworker who had been talking his ear off about how she hoped she’d be next, despite having no romantic prospect to speak of. He was looking for you intently, searching rows and rows of tables, but with the commotion of the entrances and everyone moving around, he couldn’t find you. Soon, Jane? And Benny entered, arms held up in triumph, and all eyes shifted to the couple as they started their first dance. Frankie knew the motions; stand around and watch them, dance with his assigned bridesmaid toward the end of the song, then he’d be free to sulk in his chair for the rest of the night, wedding duties over.

Becky stepped on his toes during the dance. She crooned about what she would pick as her first dance song, she hinted that she was on the lookout for ‘the one.’ She cried when Benny kissed his bride at the swell of the song. Overall, Frankie couldn’t have been happier when Marisol toddled up to him, outstretched arms requesting he danced with his girl instead. She was shy, like Frankie, almost a carbon copy of him; she didn’t say anything to Becky until safely in her father’s arms, puffed dress spilling over his suit, where she gave a stunted, 3-year-old wave as if to say “bye now;” and Becky, surprisingly, listened, allowing the father-daughter duo to sway until the girl released silly giggles into her dad’s shoulder.

After the song, Marisol requested to get down again, eager to run around the open space with the ring bearers and to get spoiled by each of her favorite uncles, and Frankie obliged, setting his sights on his table instead. He had given up on seeing you again; figuring you wouldn’t even show up. You had said you would go out with him, but maybe you were rethinking it now. He got lost in his mind as he searched for his table, thinking of you, thinking of his past mistakes, but then he saw it—one empty chair waiting for him, and you sitting politely next to it.

His steps increased in speed as he made his way over, counting his strokes of luck as he started to overhear the table’s conversation. When a heavily pregnant woman stood to get to the buffet, her husband and another couple following, you were left alone at the table, looking around almost nervously until you caught his eye as he made it to his seat.

“This is my seat,” he almost whispered once you looked at him, doe eyed and stunning under the pinkish up lighting in the room.

“What—what are the—” “I can’t believe—” You both speak in tandem, quickly laughing and breaking the tension between you. You close your mouth, gesturing for him to speak.

“I—I’m not too great at words,” he admits, and you smile. “But—I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you repeat back, falling into your easy rapport from the night before. “I was Jenna’s roommate in college.”

“I was in Special Forces with Benny.”

“I guess this town is just as small as you said it is,” you laugh, and the flower girl comes sprinting up to you both, patent leather flats clicking as she runs.

“Papa! Papa!” She offers him a stemmed flower she somehow found, likely pulled from a centerpiece, clearly still in her floral duties. Frankie thanks her, and when she hears you laugh, she ducks behind his arm.

“This is Marisol, my daughter, and the flower girl,” he says, holding up his flower like it is proof.

“Wow, Marisol—you did such a good job today. Best flower girl I’ve ever seen,” you coo to the girl, trying to get her out of her shell. She smiles smally, pushing her father’s arm from behind to extend the flower to you until you take it.

“I guess it’s for you,” Frankie chuckles, and you take it in stride.

“Thank you, Marisol. And thank you to your Papa too for giving it to me.” You shoot Frankie a smile, and Marisol gets distracted by a shout of her name, running off again to continue on her self-assigned duties. You twirl the flower in your fingers wordlessly, looking at it when Frankie breaks the silence.

“She—she’s three. Her mom left us when she was 6 months. Cheated while I was overseas, then didn’t want anything to do with us.” Frankie offers by explanation, nervously fidgeting his hands on the table. Dating as a single father was nonexistent, and he wanted you to know that her mother was no longer in the picture, however tactless it may have come across. One of the men from the bar lifts Marisol up in the distance as she squeals happily. You run a soothing hand over his suited arm, squeezing lightly.

“She’s seems like a sweet kid—and it seems like you’ve got all you need right here.” You’re talking about the men who are fawning over her, clearly his best friends, but Frankie’s eyes meet yours.

“Yeah. I guess I do.” 

And games that never amount

To more than they're meant

Will play themselves out

You spend most of the night with Frankie, Marisol occasionally making her presence known when food appears on his plate for her own bites. You feel like you’ve known him forever; for a second, it feels like you were there as his date. The other couples at your table have practically disappeared, and as you’re learning is the usual when you’re around him, you feel like the only two in the room.

After some well-timed pouts, Frankie humors both you and his daughter with dancing; upbeat, happy songs with clapping and jumping that work to get the girl’s energy out. At one point, she’s standing on your toes, laughing gleefully as you dance her around the room to what she insists is her “favorite song.” When the music turns mellow, lilting ballads starting to fill the space instead of party anthems, you both freeze; Marisol lets out an exaggerated yawn, and is promptly led away by her Uncle Will, leaving you both to awkwardly decide what comes next.

“Would—would you want to dance? With me?” he adds at the last moment, thinking you needed clarification.

“Yes, Frankie. With you,” you chuckle, and he does too, grasping your waist with one hand and intertwining your fingers with another. You move slowly to the beat, swaying gracefully as you both shyly smile and look away when you get caught. After catching Frankie a second time, another shy laugh and shake of your head escaping, he speaks again.

“I—I really like you,” he murmurs almost directly into your ear. “I know after last night, you said if we ever saw each other again—and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do—but I—” he takes a deep breath, and you feel his chest move, you’re pressed so closely to him. “I’ve got a kid. And a life here, and I’m finally back on track—I don’t want any games or weird up and downs. Marisol—and me, too—we need stability.”

You don’t have a chance to respond, Jenna and Benny making their way over to chat mid-song. You’re pained to let Frankie go, but a raise of Jenna’s eyebrows says everything she won’t out loud; you’re falling for him. Hard. So hard even she can tell. But under her gaze, you swear you see it; that slight tinge of pity, that look of sympathy. You knew Jenna meant well, but you were overwhelmed by all; by all of what could have been.

You don’t know if you can do this; the lights, the stringed music, the white dress and the pressed suits, the flower from Frankie and Marisol tucked behind your ear. You see the girl dead asleep on a couch in the corner, knocked out completely, and you wish you could do the same; wish you could escape the way she has. Instead, when Frankie’s chatting with Benny, you excuse yourself from Jenna, rushing out the venue with hurried steps. Your feet don’t stop until they hit sand, and even then, you push on, waiting for the nip of the frigid ocean to hit your toes before you finally break, sitting into the sand aimlessly.

You don’t know what you were thinking—who you were kidding. This perfect man, with his greying whiskers and his precious daughter, who danced and loved and lost; he deserved someone better than you. Someone stable, someone with their life together, someone who met their goals, like he had. The waves crash in front of you; you wish they would deafen your thoughts, but instead they scream louder, begging to be heard over the ocean.

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We've still got time

Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice

You'll make it now

You don’t hear him come up, the sand muffling any footsteps or noises he would have made. You’re so lost in your own world you don’t notice him until he sits down next to you, disturbing the sand around your seat and bringing attention to the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, instead fiddling with a stick to draw shapes in the sand.

“Look, I’m sorry if I came on too strong, I know—”

“It’s not that, Frankie,” you huff, looking out over the glistening water. The moonlight ripples through it, only disturbed by a spotlight as a ship floats by. “You’re fine. Great, even.”

"Okay—then—what is it? Do you want to talk about it?” You take a deep breath, drawing your fingers through the wet sand to make abstract shapes. He thinks the answer is no until you speak again, eyes tracing the boat in the distance.

“I just—I don’t live here, Frankie—and I like you, and of course you need stability, and I—I don’t know if I’m that,” you sniffle. “I’m a mess, and you have everything together. I’ve had this whole life plan forever and so far I have yet to meet any of it, and every time, it just feels like another hole in my heart. And I was thinking about that saying, about ships passing in the night or whatever, and if that’s what we are—I’m worried this is the hole is going to make my ship sink.” You know you’re not making sense, mostly just an outpouring of emotion, and you think he might just leave you here in the sand to rot. Instead, he inches closer; a hand placed behind you as he leans back onto it, outstretching his legs. You fight the instinct to lean into him, the shoulder of his pressed shirt barely tickling yours.

“I can’t believe you think I have it all together,” he chuckles, and you release a watery laugh too. “Marisol left without the flowers today. The flowers.  For the flower girl,” he accentuates, and you chuckle a little more heartily. “I—I think I misspoke before. I don’t want you to have it all together, I want—I want you, whatever that means. I just--I don’t want it to be a one-time thing. I want to know I'll see you again after tonight, instead of just hoping.”

“Frankie, I don’t—” You move to sit up straight, Frankie readjusting his position as well now that your shoulder is no longer brushing his.

“I know you don’t live here. I’m okay with that. Jenna said you’re only 45 minutes out.” You take a moment to think about what he’s saying, the cold sea breeze brushing your hair from your face. “It’s your decision, in the end. But I wanted you to know where I stand.” He literally stands at that, brushing sand off his back before taking one final look at the ocean and turning to walk back to the wedding. His kid is in there, he can’t exactly leave for extended periods of time despite the fact that she’s sleeping.

“Frankie?” You clear your throat with his name, almost hopefully. He turns around slowly, almost like he can’t believe you said it at all, to find you standing as well, the hem of your dress covered in sand and murky sea water. “I want you, too.”

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 5

I have so many feelings about these two, Spills & Francis may be two idiot babies but they're my idiot babies and I LOVE them. Lots of yearning in this chapter, and maybe a different side to Claudia.👀

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, mentions of alcohol / being drunk (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4 Part 6 Playlist

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

Age 18:

His truck was full.

He was driving, you were shotgun - like always - and there were three more friends in the back. The trunk held boogie boards and towels, sunscreen and a cooler full of food and drinks.

You got there early enough that you found a good spot and within half an hour you were completely set up. There were three big beach blankets spread out with two big umbrellas to hide under when the sun got too hot.

“Spills, can you get my back?” He was handing you the sunscreen as he pulled his shirt up.

You were momentarily taken aback, you’d known him for so long, this wasn’t your first beach trip but he looked… good.

You spent a little longer than you should have making sure every inch of the golden skin of his back and shoulders was covered in sunscreen. Making sure to dip your hands just under the band of his swim trunks. When he turned he had a big smile and you had to ignore the way your stomach flipped.

Get a grip, it’s just Francis.

You couldn’t get a grip though, not with the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach whenever you paid attention to him. His hair was growing out a bit, curling slightly at the edges. You’d never thought about him this way and you had to keep reminding yourself to look away.

Later on in the day when you were in the water you played the same games you’d played since you were kids and when you jumped on his back he didn’t push you away; his skin warm from the sun. Instead he let you wrap your legs around him and everything felt right.

“You okay back there?” He laughed as he held onto the back of your knees.

“Peachy.” You smiled as you held on.

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

**Present Day**

“Hola Mijo, you better go in there and calm her down.” His mom greeted him at the door when he walked in, her eyebrows raised at him.

“Hola mami, what happened?” He kissed her on the cheek like he always did before making his way further into the house. She couldn’t say - just that Claudia was upset. He was walking towards her, but his mind was still back with Spills. He could still smell her hair as he made his way into the den.

It’s the same shampoo, she still uses the same shampoo. Focus Francisco.

Claudia was almost shouting into her cellphone.

“Well I need it here sooner than that. My wedding is in three weeks and I need everything to be perfect - so I don’t give a shit what you have to do to get my dress here in time but you better find a way to do it!” She was looking daggers at him and he let her finish the phone call before he spoke.

“What’s going on babe?” He put his hands on her arms and started trying to calm her but she shrugged out of his grasp.

“What’s wrong Francisco, is that I told you this would be difficult.” She wasn’t yelling but her tone was icy. “How am I supposed to get married without a wedding dress. Would have been fine if we were back home.”

Not this again.

“Claudia, I told you when we got engaged that I wanted to get married here and you agreed. I explained to you very clearly that I’ve been away from my home, my life, my family - my friends for years and I wanted to get married here. Now tell me what the problem is.” He wanted his feelings to be clear. He loved Claudia, he really did. She was sweet and beautiful and she treated him well. She could be a little spoiled though and if he didn’t put his foot down now, he’d never have a choice about anything ever again.

He would not live his life that way.

“Yes I know I agreed, and for the most part I’m okay with it. I know your whole life is here, but it would have been so easy to get married there.” She pouted and it didn’t invoke the feeling it should have. It didn’t spur him to try to please her, it annoyed him.

He momentarily thought about when Spills pouted up at him, it never annoyed him. He pushed the thought away.

“Maybe, but we’re not getting married there. We’re getting married here, now what can we do? Let's look for a solution.” He softened up at her a little bit, after all he wanted her to be happy.

She sighed loudly and put her arms around his neck, her voice got a little higher as she tried to appeal to him.

“Frankie, baby- I just want everything to be perfect.”

That doesn’t work on me.

“Let’s just try to have everything go smoothly. It’ll be our day regardless, right?” He put his hands on her waist to bring her close, trying to get her out of her head.

“How long do we have to stay here Francisco?” She leaned back to look up into his face and he sighed.

“We have to talk about that, after the wedding we’re going back to stay with your family for a little while but then we have to talk about where we’re going to live.” He held her, but she pulled away.

“I don’t want to live here after Francisco. I appreciate that you grew up here and everything and we can visit but I do not want to live here.” She crossed her arms petulantly, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. They’d spoken about this before and she had agreed to give it an honest try, but they’d been in town less than a week and already she was telling him she hated it.

“You can’t know that in three days babe.” He sat on the couch.

When they agreed to get married - he’d been scared of this, he’d been scared that she’d do this. He knew she loved him, and he loved her - as much as he could - but the look on her face when he’d put his foot down about spending this time at home should have told him everything.

She didn’t say anything, she sat with him and reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss home. I’ll give it another shot.” She sounded genuine and he wanted to believe that. “How was your night with Spills? Is she feeling better?” She smiled at him, putting her hand on his thigh and he placed his over hers. A silent truce.

“She’s doing much better, we ate dinner and watched a movie.” He held her hand as he spoke and she smiled at him.

“I’m glad to hear that - hopefully she doesn’t get that drunk at the wedding.” She laughed lightly.

He knew she didn’t mean it in a nasty way, but he bristled at her words.

“She was just nervous about meeting all of you, and even if she did it would be fine. Everyone gets drunk at weddings.” He tried not to sound defensive but she raised her eyebrows at him. “I just don’t want you to think that she’s a mess. She’s like a-” He couldn’t say sister, he’s never thought of her as a sister. She was so much more. “She’s just really important to me.”

“I know babe. I didn’t mean it like that, she seems sweet.” She smiled at him. She was still trying to get back in his good graces, taking his defensiveness as residual anger. Thankfully.

“We should plan something for all of us to do together. It could give us more time to bond.” He thought about it momentarily then agreed, he knew exactly what to plan.

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

There was something playing on the TV, you caught vague flashes - people talking but you weren’t taking anything in. Your sweatshirt smelled like Frankie and all you wanted was to cuddle up to him. He had been so sturdy beside you, so strong and comfortable.

What the fuck is a wedding emergency?

The mature - adult part of your brain said she was a nice person and if Frankie was with her it was for a reason. Obviously he was happy with her or he wouldn’t be marrying her. Frankie had never been the kind of person to settle.

The other part of your brain, the jealous possessive part told you she was a bitch. She was ruining the life you’d planned out with Frankie. If he’d never met her you’d be together now, laughing and planning the rest of your lives together. He’d be in your bed, or you’d be in his.

[Francis]: Hey Spills, we’re planning a get together for the wedding party - day after tomorrow - beach day. I’ll be there to pick you up at 7am.

It was like the universe was testing you. How many memories could he taint with Claudia?

[you]: sounds good, Claudia, you, me and who else in rustbucket?

[Francis]: Just you and I, and don’t call her that. Claudia’s family is coming so she’s going to ride to the beach with them. I’ll grab coffee on the way. =)

[you]: Hope you have a new tape in there, if I have to listen to queen I’ll jump out of the car

[Francis]: lol a ride is a ride Spills, see you then

[Francis]: was really nice hanging out with you today btw, goodnight

[you]: I had a great time with you - like always, thanks again for all the food, goodnight Francis!

--------

It was easy to ignore everything when you were getting work done, you had taken off a few days when you knew Francis would be home and you were taking advantage of it. The day before your beach trip was used to do all those little tasks you tended to put off.

Your laundry was done, the kitchen was clean, even the fridge had gotten a bit of elbow grease. Everything was ready and packed for the trip.

You tried not to think about the ride to the beach with Francis, you tried not to think back to your previous trips to the beach with him. Those memories were so precious and thinking about how your next memory would be with him, and his new in-laws was tearing you up inside.

Please let this go well, please don’t let me make a fool of myself.

You hoped someone was listening.

The anxiety didn’t let you sleep and you watched the clock crawl closer to morning; it seemed pointless to lay there.

Might as well get ready.

-----

He wasn’t nervous, but he wasn’t excited.

He made his way over to her house, stopping to grab coffee on the way. He thought about his conversation with Claudia, about the possibility of leaving this place. He really didn’t want to. He wanted to be close to his mom, he wanted to be close to his friends and his home.

I want to be close to Spills, I want to see her everyday.

He scolded himself, he was going to marry someone else. He kept trying to remind himself, but when he saw her walking towards his car it all went out the window.

God Spills, you’re killing me.

She put her beach bag and a small cooler in the backseat and got into his truck with a big smile, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind. He handed her the coffee he bought and she took it gratefully, brushing against his fingers, even now - she affected him so much.

Snap out of it Francisco, you aren’t a teenager anymore. This is your friend.

“Hazelnut?” She asked as she smelled the steam floating around her pretty face.

“Of course.” He pulled away from her place, making his way towards the highway. It would be an hour or so until they got to the beach.

“Open up.” The buttery bagel half she put into his mouth as he drove tasted better than he remembered.

------

The drive was over much too soon.

If only it had lasted all day - catching him up on all the gossip he’d missed out on while away. Watching his excitement when he talked about flying, you could have listened to him talk forever.

“Finally!” Cheers rang out when the two of you arrived. The boys had set up a bunch of blankets and umbrellas and you suddenly remembered the state you’d been in the last time they saw you and you felt the blush creeping up.

Benny smiled big when he saw you, tapping the place beside him after you’d all said your hellos. You had no reason to deny him so you sat, setting up all your stuff within the space he made for you.

Blessedly, Claudia hadn’t arrived yet and you cherished this time without her, maybe it was mean - maybe it was selfish but you couldn't help it.

“Hey - Thanks for the other night, for getting me home and making sure I was okay.” Pope set up his stuff on the other side of you.

“No problem, glad to see you feeling better.” He was talking to you but you noticed him give Benny a curious look. Benny ignored it. You watched as Will and Frankie set up a volleyball net, you studied both men and there was no denying that Will was gorgeous; but your eyes were drawn to Frankie. You couldn’t help it, your eyes raked over him greedily.

He was so broad, stronger than he had been in his teen years and his belly had gotten a little softer with age but it suited him. He was gorgeous, he had always been gorgeous. He felt your eyes on him then and he smiled at you, walking over to you with the sunscreen in his hands like he always did. His smile faltered slightly when his gaze landed behind your place in the sand.

“Hey babe, how was the drive?” Claudia and her family had arrived and they were setting up just behind you.

Do you have some sort of alarm? How are you always ruining every single goddamn moment?

“It was hectic! Left a little later than I meant to but we survived.” She was breathless as she came to greet him. You busied yourself with something, anything in your bag to avoid watching them kiss. When you looked back she was squeezing sunscreen onto his back, rubbing the lotion much the same way you used to whenever you’d come to the beach together.

He didn’t meet your eyes when she did it, and you were thankful. You didn’t think you could handle seeing him enjoying her touch so much. Instead you focused on the people around you. You focused on Benny and Will and Pope, trying your best to ingratiate yourself to them. Hopefully erase the memory of you as a belligerent mess.

---

As the day went on you found that you liked these guys, not just as an extension of Francis - but because they were fun. They made you laugh, they spoke to you like they’d known you your whole life. They almost distracted you enough. You also noticed that Claudia was only here to lounge in the sun. She had absolutely no interest in getting in the water, no matter how many times she was asked by Frankie to join him.

He played it off like it didn’t bother him but you knew it did, and that in turn hurt you but your heart leapt when he turned to you.

“Spills, wanna come in the water with me?” He smiled and held out his hand and you gladly accepted. Following him in like you always had.

“Not much of a swimmer?” You couldn’t help but ask when the two of you were in the water.

“Not really, it’s a shame - the water's perfect today.” He floated, making sure to splash you and you waited until he was perfectly relaxed to splash him back. “God I love it here.” he spoke as he floated closer and closer.

“Me too. I want to live near the ocean one day.” You spoke absentmindedly, trying to feel for little shells or rocks as you walked further and further from the shore. He followed you.

You felt him splashing you from behind and you tackled him. The two of you turned into children in the water and it ended with you wrapped around his back like always. His hands on the back of your knees as you held on. You both watched the shore in silence, everyone too focused on whatever they were doing to notice your closeness and you were thankful for it. It made you hold on tighter, trying to get closer and he wrapped your legs around his tummy.

Maybe it was inappropriate, maybe if Claudia had been watching she would have had some words for him, or you, or both of you - but it didn’t stop you.

“Let’s just stay out here Spills. Let’s stay in the water forever.” He stroked the skin of your shins under the water and it was so hard not to cry right then and there. “Just you and me, living in the water.” He laughed but it came out sad.

“I’m game.” You rested your chin on his shoulder briefly and he bumped your head with his. This one little moment made the whole day worth it, and when he pulled away as you knew he would, your heart broke just a little bit more.

You were both wrong in your assumptions however. The moment you had thought was private, that you thought you’d stolen without anyone knowing had been seen and catalogued by someone on the shore. Pope had seen the whole thing, and he had some words for Francis.

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

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

[controlledchaosetc]

Ask game

Tell me about your favourite npccccc

Alsooo tell me about a time the party took you by surprise

(Im a playerrr if there be spoils tell me I'll eat my hat but I won't look)

Favorite NPC

So my favorite NPC is probably the hardest question to there are so many of them and I love them all, so ill just list a bunch of my favorites

So I created an NPC adventuring party to mirror everyone's characters. I dont remember exactly where the idea came from, but for a party of characters who are mostly NPCs (shady sellsman, mysterious fortuneteller, stripper clown) and morally gray, it would be funny to have an actually good traditional adventuring party to go up to each of their characters. They were just going to show up very occasionally, but my partner cried at me to have them in every arc just somewhere, you also agreed on that, so here we are XD

Sorcha Fiddlecloak is a happy go lucky trickster cleric gnome who is the head of that party. She hates when people don't like her, so she will go out of her way to have them do so. She's a direct foil to Todd, a PC who is a fiendish warlock, capitalist enjoyer, and gnome hater. She currently thinks they are friends, and will continue to annoy him for the foreseeable future.

Palen Nightvale is a werewolf blood hunter who's kinda the bitch (figuratively and literally I guess lmao) of the group. Pulled from an old character sheet of Yikes' when he was a COMPLETELY different character, she now serves as his foil by dealing with acceptance and perception issues. She ask Doesnt Like Him after Yikes messed with her a little after she misspoke on changelings. She has a whole tragic backstory and mission and stuff that the party hasn't learned yet, so I'll keep that for a separate reblog with all the spoilers lol

Roza Vova is the newest addition to that party after our newest member, @sleepyforestbeast , joined with their character, Husk! She literally only got talked to last session, but there's a WHOLE lot surrounding her after Yikes thought she was the person who tried to STEAL HIS SKIN. Thankfully, she isn't, but she's the identical triplet (there's another sister out there in the world lol) of her. The party has some suspicions of her, but that and her tragic backstory will again probably be a separate post to not give you direct spoilers XD

Anzor is the last member of the party, a human paladin of Kelemvor, and I think he narrowly beats Roza in being my favorite of the party (but I love all of them and wanted to talk about them lmao). He's the foil to Azule (the person asking the question's character actually!!), a mysterious fortuneteller and medium who's actually a fraud and also a changeling and also a necromancer. Anzor is probably the character talked to the least, or at least the one who's gotten the least info talked about him other than what you can just see. He has A LOT with him, NONE of which has been revealed in game, and he is probably the best foil imo to one of the characters, and I can't say why that is here, which again, probably going to get that in a separate reblog.

There's a lot more characters I seriously love, but I think my top two outside of the adventuring party are Gleam and Frizzle

Gleam is an elf wizard who is based on the character from the Witchlight campaign. She was given to me by my partner to have as a member of The Eclipse, the traveling circus Yikes is at. I, however, have never read Witchlight, and turned her into an exploited child star who grew up to be a mall goth. Her interactions with Yikes are immaculate, protective of him but ready to insult him at a moment's notice. I think I described it as "annoying kid next door who always annoyed you, but now he's grown up and hot now???" She also keeps having to deal with problems, the most reoccuring one is Kera, a runaway from a town that joined because she's also into the goth aesthetic, and Gleam hates kids. She's great, love her.

Frizzle is a fire genasi warlock, and an NPC from the original mini campaign that kicked off the game. She was a maid at the mansion that everything originally went down at, and for most of the game, kinda in shock and non-functional. She does not do well in extremely stressful situations, especially not in those where her closest friend at the time dies when you weren't in the room and then you get accused of his death. However, after leaving the mansion (which was set on fire) with all of her belongings gone and burned, she's hit the "ok what the fuck do I do with my life". I stumbled onto this character motivation/aspect with her, and I've really been enjoying putting that to different use. She's currently just working as a cook at the Eclipse because she has culinary experience, but she just doesn't know what she wants to do, and that's really interesting to me.

Party Took Me by Surprise

Honestly, half of the Husk has been doing has made me go "ok we're doing this now" in the best way possible XD. It's been a really great exercise in improv and doing things on the fly which I've been getting much better with!!!

Probably the biggest time I've been taken by surprise with the entire party is still just how impressed I was with how you guys did with the original mini-campaign. Many more people were intended to die, but you did a great job keeping everyone together, and only 4 people of the 12 in that house died.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going back home {Chapter 2}

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy hormones, pining

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

“You know your childhood home is for sale?” Claire sat on the patio next to Pope who had decided to catch up with her.

“Seriously?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. It looks bad though.”

“Like every house in this area that’s currently on sale,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah there are not many people moving down here, though there seem to be getting more in the last few years.”

“I mean it’s beautiful here,” she let her eyes wander over the landscape. She had always loved it here. Whole summers were spent on the Morales ranch when she was younger. Could have to do with the fact that Pa’ Morales made the best BBQ ever.

“Yeah it is. Better for your girl to grow up here, than in the big city huh?” he asked. She looked at Pope. He had gotten older. The lines around his eyes deeper than before. He always loved to laugh.

“Yeah. Though I didn’t picture it like that. I…” she sighed, feeling silly for the tears in her eyes. Fucking hormones.

“Hey. It’s okay. You gonna be fine,” his hand came down on her knee, squeezing it in comfort.

“Yeah you all keep saying that but it’s not you who has to push a baby out of your vagina without the father being there. It’s not you who has the responsibility to take care of a helpless kid for the rest of your life. I just… why? Why does he get to decide to walk out of this? It’s my pill that apparently didn’t work but it was him fucking me without a condom. He should take the responsibility just as much as I have to. Fuck…” she let her head fall back.

“Fuck him,” she looked up, hearing Frankie’s voice.

“Fuck him. He’s an excuse of a man. You don’t walk away from the woman you love. From the woman who’s carrying your child. Fuck… I was going through rehab while Liz was pregnant and I didn’t walk out…” he kneeled down next to her. She sucked her bottom lip in.

“I just feel so… so…” she shook her head.

“I know. But you’re not alone. You got me,” he looked at her. He was planning on taking her out for lunch when he walked in.

“But it’s not your job to take care of me Frankie. You got your own family.”

“You are family,” Pope said, now standing behind Frankie. “And if you want us to kill him, just say the word,” he teased and she had to laugh at that before she looked at Frankie again.

“I told you. You don’t want a hormonal woman living with you,” she joked and Frankie chuckled.

“I can take living with a hormonal woman,” he reached up to brush away her tears.

“Now what do you say? Lunch?” he asked and she sighed before she nodded.

“I gotta head out. But i’ll bring the house offers I found over tonight, okay?” Pope asked and she nodded. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek before he left.

“I mean it. You’re family. Don’t ever think you’re a burden or alone. We’re here for you. I am here for you, okay?” Frankie said. Claire breathed in deep and nodded.

“Gotta get used to people caring. I was pretty lonely the last few years I guess.”

“Yeah. Better get used to it quickly,” he winked before he helped her out of the seat.

“Gotta get dressed I guess,” she shrugged.

“And I gotta shower. I can smell myself.”

“Yeah. You stink,” she grinned before she walked past him, leaving Frankie head shaking on the patio.

“Lunch is on you,” he called after her and she gave him the finger, making him laugh before he followed her inside to take a shower.

“So what made you open up a gardening business of all things, Morales?” she asked, sitting in the old diner they used to spend so much time in when they were younger. It might be lunch time but she couldn’t wait to have her ordered pancakes.

Frankie shrugged.

“I like being outside, keeps my mind off things.”

“You any good?” Claire teased and Frankie huffed.

“Let’s just say if you need any gardening I won’t be able to help you before the end of the year,” he winked.

“Impressive. I’m happy for you. Even though I still wanna hear the story as to what exactly happened in the last two years…” she said quietly, hearing Frankie sigh.

“Only when you tell me your story.”

She sighed and smiled sadly.

“We have a lot to talk about huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. But in time. Now we gotta eat and then we got to head to the store. Still need some stuff for the BBQ.”

“Fuck how many people are coming to this BBQ? I only have like 5 friends left here and I already met 4 of them,” Clarie groaned, leaning over the shopping cart as Frankie loaded another six pack of beer in.

“Pope kinda invited everyone over he knows so you can get to know everyone.”

“Because I like hanging out with people so much?” she asked, letting her head hang, earning a chuckle from Frankie.

“You and me both. But they’re all okay. Promise,” he squeezed her shoulder in comfort and she smiled a little, bumping her shoulder against his as he came to stand next to her.

“So what else do we need?”

“I got everything. Anything you need?”

“Ice cream?” Claire asked after thinking about it. Frankie only nodded as he grabbed the cart from her and pushed it towards the freezers with the ice cream. Like he had done it a million times before he walked towards the freezer, picking up Claire’s favorite Mint & Chocolate Chip ice cream and threw it in the cart.

“Still your favorite?” he asked as he saw the surprise in her face. She only nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

“But pick up the mango ice dream too. Been craving that lately,” she grinned and Frankie nodded only before he reached for the biggest container.

The car ride to Frankie’s was quiet, both of them hanging on to their thoughts. It was strange how they seemed to fall back into their old dynamic as if no time had passed. It made Claire aware of just how much time she had spent with him when she was younger.

“This house is for sale,” Frankie said quietly as he stopped in front of the house just down his road.

“Charming…” Claire made a face and Frankie laughed. With lots of imagination she could see herself living here. But not within the next 4 months. This would be harder than she thought it would be.

“Maybe I should have stayed in New York…” she groaned to herself, her head falling back against the seat. She felt a hand on her thigh, her head tilting towards Frankie, unable to see his eyes behind his dark aviators.

“It’s been one day since you got here. We gonna find a house for you,” he squeezed her thigh and she sighed before she looked out of the window again. Frankie felt a weird feeling wash over him, his eyes dropping to the swell of her belly, before he released his hand from her to bring it back to the steering wheel, driving the car the short distance to his farm. A part of him wondered if the choices he made earlier in his life could have prevented some of the stuff he had gone through. Maybe he should have at least tried to go to college. Maybe he would have had a job that wouldn’t have required him leaving for months at the time. Maybe he would have had the guts to tell Claire that he wanted to be more than friends before he left for basic training. But he had found out that she had slept with Santiago, shattering all kinds of hope he might have had, that there was something more between them. To this day he wasn’t sure if maybe there had been more all these years back. He had always been too scared to tell Claire, scared that this would ruin their friendship. A friendship he had missed in the last years. He had wasted years on sleeping with women he never called after until it was a woman, Liz, calling him to tell him that she was pregnant. And he tried to make it work, he really did. A part of him loved Liz, because she was the mother of his child. But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he looked at Claire.

“Is it okay if I take a nap? I’m dead on my feet,” Claire asked as he stopped the car. He blinked at her, so lost in his thoughts. She yawned and he found himself smiling at her.

“Of course. As long as you make your guacamole later?”

She laughed, shaking her head with an eye roll.

“Wake me in two hours?”

“You got it,” he got out of the car, opening the door for her, helping her out. He had noticed her struggling to get out of his truck before.

“Thank you Frankie,” she kissed his cheek before she turned around to walk towards the door. He looked after her until she disappeared inside the house, shaking his head to himself.

“Get it together, Morales,” he whispered to himself before he unloaded the car and got inside himself.

Claire was in the middle of explaining to Frankie how to open an Avocado without killing himself worked, when the door flew open and the Miller brother’s barged inside.

“You got problems with your pipes?” Ben grinned at Claire and she snorted.

“In your Dreams, Miller,” she seasoned the avocados. Frankie shook his head.

“Come on, I show you my pipes,” Frankie teased, making Ben gag while Claire laughed loudly.

“You okay Claire?” Will asked, sitting down at the kitchen island in front of her, after he put the steaks in the fridge. Claire sighed.

“Didn’t think it would be this hard, but Frankie’s a big help,” she smiled a little, tasting the guacamole she was making. She reached for more salt.

“Yeah, he’s awesome. But be gentle with him. The whole custody thing is still pretty fresh,” Will said quietly.

“He hasn’t talked to me about it.”

“He will, I’m sure he will. Just… I mean you probably know him better than I do…”

“I’m gonna take care of him. Promise,” she whispered with a soft smile and Will seemed relieved as he nodded at her.

“Miss Beck. Your pipe problem has been solved,” Ben announced coming back soaked through his shirt back into the kitchen. Claire tilted his head, nodding approvingly at the muscles she could see through his white shirt before she looked up into his eyes with a teasing grin.

“I’ll make sure to preach about your plumbing services, Mr. Miller,” she winked and could swear she saw him blush for a second.

“Enough with the puns, we got a BBQ to prepare. Claire your shower is working,” Frankie emerged from the hallway, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and now it was Claire’s turn to blush before she became very invested in the guacamole in front of her while trying not to think about Frankie’s sunkissed skin on his chest, the little tummy or the dark trail of hair she most certainly didn’t want to lick.

She didn’t see Will’s knowing look before he got up from the seat to follow his brother outside.

Claire was so focused on the guacamole she only saw Frankie’s hand in the last second, slapping it away as he tried to steal a taste of the guacamole.

“Mean,” he pouted.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she grinned before she picked up the bowl to put it into the fridge, bending down to open the freezer for her mango ice cream. Frankie bit his lip as his eyes wandered down her body, averting his eyes before she turned around.

Fuck he wished that good things would be coming to those who waited.

Chapter 3