#we only watched the first episode. they p much know what happened but not the details of how things got there so yeahhhh

[caramelmochacrow]

something my older sibling made while we were looking for ds games to put in our ds lol

[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[sehodreams]

a good girl's paradox

TW and Tags: plus size!coworker!reader x coworker!lee tang (he changed his name to Gyeong-su in the episode), mentions of violent acts (stalking, killing, bullying), smut, p in v (with protection), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), suicidal thoughts, trauma, related to the series but it changes the storyline for the fic purposes, unclear descriptions of the place (Busan) because I have no interest into learning more geography for a fic.

WC: 10K

Summary: Everyone goes to that province to hide, and you’re not the exception, but it’s also said that everyone wants to leave, and perhaps, you’re the exception to that.

Comment: Sorry guys I know I have a lot of requests and other drafts waiting, but I love this man so much I couldn’t help it, I started it yesterday and finished it today because I've been having so many problems finishing other fics and decided this was not going to be one of those half done. It's long so there are definitely mistakes, please be kind, again, English is not my first language.

Feeling the ocean breeze mess up with your hair and leave little particles of salt on it, you sat over the bench and watched the sun appear over the horizon. It was incredibly calm, and beautiful, and you inhaled the aroma of the sea in front of you, an aroma your mother used to love when you were younger, always carrying you in her arms to take you there and watch the sunrise together while eating marmalade and butter sandwiches.

You stopped completely going there once she passed away, and everyone knew why you tried to avoid its existence as if it woke up all the melancholic memories you had with her.

The truth was, you always hated it, and you stopped completely going only because you had no reason to do it anymore. You could make your own decisions once she wasn’t around anymore, and your father never cared enough to keep you company even on important events, so for as long as you could, you just didn’t go.

However, now that you saw it in front of you, you did remember some moments with your mother, her smile, and her excited voice telling you to wake up and watch the sun appear.

‘’Fucking sea’’ you said once the sun completely stayed up there, an orange light showering the whole scenery making it even more breathtaking, but still hating it.

You stood up, grabbed the suitcase handle, and walked alongside the sea, trying to catch a cab in that part of the countryside little city, different from Seoul, which was always awake, you saw how only a couple of people were walking around there, and most of them where fishers getting ready for work, or maybe they were coming back, but you, a city girl your whole life, didn’t know.

You found a taxi not much later and telling him where you were going, the driver rolled his window even more, and giving you a good look, he nodded for you to jump in.

‘’It’s not far from here’’ he said, and you nodded, not feeling like talking much with him. ‘’When you leave, don’t let them charge you too much, never pay more than 15 dollars for any cab, and never go to the sea at night.’’

That last sentence caught your attention, sounding like advice but with a hint of uninterest, assuming that you were going to leave one day.

‘’When I leave?’’ you asked.

‘’You’re going to a rented apartment, I know that building, we know everyone here, and you’re a city girl, I can hear it in your voice, all pretty and clear, something happened to you there so you came here to hide, it’s always the same thing, but your kind never like it here enough to stay’’ he answered sure of his statement.

You looked out the window, the sea was blue, pure, immaculate, and the sun wasn’t orange anymore, a clear sky showing the clouds up there, which you could see reflected into the sea.

But it all looked so grey to you, after all, a beautiful thing like that one still killed people every now and then, fishers who tried to make a living, tourists curious of what was deep inside, or simply people who tried to refresh themselves with the cool temperature of it in the summer, so you nodded.

It was beautiful, a dream, but you would never fall in love with it, if you never did it before even with the memories of your childhood, why would you do it now?

‘’Thank you’’ you said, agreeing with him.

You’d never like it enough to stay.

Still, you kind of appreciated his words after living there for almost a month.

Something you never forgot was how that driver, only with that short conversation, helped you so much, because it was true, you never had to pay more than 15 bucks for any cab, and every time the drivers tried to take advantage of you because of your accent, you only had to spit a short fuck off before they called you a bitch and accepted your bills before driving away.

At first, it was hard, you had never cursed in front of another person and you felt almost sick whenever you did it, but after deciding no one knew you there enough to have the right to judge you, or reminding yourself to just say what went through your mind to not punish yourself later with an I should’ve done something different, you started to feel better with your life there.

Also, he had been right about city people hiding there.

There weren’t many, but they were there, and it was incredibly easy to recognize them.

Apart from the dialect, which was pretty much obvious, there was just something about them that screamed I’m not from here that you always noticed.

Perhaps it was the way most of you were programmed to be colder than most of the countryside people, always being respectful and polite, but always lacking that warmness they had, most of them treating each other like friends or family, while all of you were from the exterior, uninvited guests that one day would leave, and knowing your place, all of you said thank you, hello and goodbye without smiling or eye contact.

It wasn’t that bad for you thought, you had already told yourself to not be involved with people at all if it wasn’t necessary to avoid useless problems, but again, you were only a girl, and Gyeong-ah was just a girl too, and girls, as much as you tried to deny it, feel easily alone.

You met while buying groceries, and you knew immediately she was from Seoul because instead of choosing the detergent almost all the residents there bought, which had a powerful, almost heavy aroma of flowers to mask the sea smell, she chose the softer version without aroma that most girls that lived alone in Seol used to not mess with your perfumes.

You didn’t wear perfume, you never liked it, but you recognized the brand as if it was general knowledge taught at school.

‘’You’re from Seoul’’ you said before you could think it, and it wasn’t a question at all, it was a fact that she, when she heard it, couldn’t even deny because she recognized you too.

‘’You too’’ she said, and suddenly you had a friend.

Just as city girls, you two knew how to talk to each other, never crossing lines and being as cordial as you could, wanting to know but never digging too deep unless you were sure the other deserved to know delicate information about yourselves.

In a month you became best friends, and you started to like to live there, the grey color the area had wasn’t as grey anymore, taking a brighter variation now, almost becoming white, as white as her ceilings, or as the smile she sometimes showed you.

Both of you had really white teeth from performing as perfect city girls before arriving there, religiously visiting the dentist to get expensive treatments at least twice a year and using the famous toothpaste that girl group promoted on TV between music shows, with the phrase ‘’a pretty smile is a pretty heart’’ pushing half the population to buy it, effective, an incredibly overpriced.

Both of you stopped using it, but you respected how it still showed its results.

‘’The supermarket is opening a new position as a cashier, you could come if you want, you receive discounts as an employee’’ she said to the air when you were rambling about almost not having enough savings.

Even if it was the countryside and rent wasn’t even half of what you paid before, with everything you spent after unsuccessfully trying to fit the beauty standards when you lived there, your savings weren’t enough to live unemployed for too much time.

Next week you, instead of waking up to take a little walk before breakfast, now got ready to go to work and be a useful human being to society again.

And with that, both of you took a step further into your friendship, being able to reveal, after drinking a couple of beers, why you escaped from the city.

Gyeong-ah told you everything, from the pretty sequence of how she and her boyfriend met, to then what he did to hurt her, and how she suffered until she had to go through all those surgeries before she moved to Busan.

You told her everything too, how your boss pushed his hand under your skirt, how you reported it and how everyone looked at you as if you were crazy, ‘’She’s the one that reported the sexual assault case? She should be grateful anyone wanted to fuck her’’, and how, being completely alone, you were bullied until you had to quit.

‘’I was the first place in my class’’ she said.

‘’I closed the best deal the company ever had’’ you said.

Both of you cried until you fell slept together on her bed, and only woke up because both of you had to get ready for work.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new job, you were already a seller before arriving there, you knew how to talk to people and how to fake a good smile, charming customers into buying products they didn’t need and quickly gaining the manager approbation, because, after all, as everyone said, you were a good girl.

Sadly, Gyeong-ah didn’t have the same luck, and you understood her, she studied to do something different with her life, and you did it too, but she was younger and never had to learn how to make people love her before because she was incredibly gorgeous, but now that beauty wasn’t as useful anymore, and not knowing how to pretend as much as you, she couldn’t gain the appreciation you did, getting more scolds than praises.

It was on one occasion that her inexperience got her into a big argument with a client, and sadly you saw the first crack of your friendship appear.

That client was demanding a refund for a product without the receipt, and you wanted to run to her and repeat how you also couldn’t find the purchase on the system, but that woman was screaming so bad you got flashbacks of your boss’s wife screaming at you to take back the complaint, how her husband would never touch a disgusting pig like you (calling you that when she was as fat, to not say more, than you), and how you should just ruin your own life if you wanted to ruin someone’s.

She had the same voice tone, and even looked exactly like her, with dark red lipstick, a failed perm and all those cheap accessories, she was her spitting image.

You couldn’t move, watching the situation happen from afar, feet stuck to the floor and hands shaking, you repeated inside your mind to go and help her, to take her side, but you couldn’t, and making eye contact with one of the boys from the fish section when he walked in front of you, you closed your eyes to ignore the situation and not feel as pathetic as you did.

Later, when your break came, you went out to breathe as much air as you could, and trying to erase the memory of the past moment from your mind, you tried to think what could you do to apologize to Gyeong-ah.

Out there, between a couple of cars, in the middle of the immense parking lot, you tried to hide so no one saw you spiraling into a thousand thoughts, and there, almost breaking down, you stopped yourself from doing it when you saw the guy from before talking to that woman.

It looked as if she wanted to discuss with him too. He was beside her car, and she started to get closer to him while talking, you couldn’t hear it, but you saw her mouth moving as fast as before.

You were about to get closer to hear them, but you stopped once you saw a disgusting string of saliva being spit on the concrete by him.

It was so long and thick that you didn’t doubt it was a consequence of all those cigarettes he smoked every day.

You didn’t smoke, but Gyeong-ah did, and sometimes the smoke got impregnated in your clothes, so you could easily identify the Marlboro smell of the pack the two of them chose all the time, but he, unlike Gyeong-ah, had a smell a lot stronger.

Your thoughts were left aside once you saw the woman moving around nervous and he trying to take her phone. What the hell, you thought, and you were about to intervene when the woman jumped into her car and drove away.

Making eye contact with him again, he watched you for a couple of seconds before he turned around and completely ignored you, continuing to smoke his cigarette in peace.

‘’I don’t have time for this’’, you whispered to yourself and walked inside to talk with Gyeong-ah and not overthink anymore.

The first crack wasn’t deep, she said she understood it, and you hugged before finishing your shift and going back home to drink and badmouth that terrible woman, especially you, not thinking much of the woman from the supermarket, but of your boss’s wife.

She laughed while hearing all the insults you had about her appearance, going to sleep with a smile on her face and telling you that she would understand if the situation happened again because it wasn’t your fault, or hers, it was theirs for not understanding you two.

Little cracks continued to appear on the frame of your friendship, but it was still solid enough to survive everything.

At least, until Sangnim appeared, and completely smashed it to leave no trace of it.

That fucking bastard, as you used to call him, ruined everything with his existence.

The minute you saw him you knew something was off with him, you couldn’t help but notice small details when the two of them gave you a lift home, sensing the aroma of a perfume you used to smell a lot in Seoul inside his car, it was impossible Gyeong-ah was the only woman riding it, and you tried to slip a question without looking suspicious.

‘’Sangmin-ah, do you have sisters? I can’t believe how much you understand my Gyeong-ah’’ you said with a smile.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror and showed you a wide grin.

‘’I don’t have any sisters, but you’re so sweet, I really try to take care of Gyeong-ah as much as I can, she deserves it’’ he answered immediately.

‘’You’re right, she deserves it’’ you repeated, still smiling.

Shut the fuck off, you contained yourself from saying that out loud, nodding and looking around to find any other clue.

You couldn’t find anything, but he was definitely a cheater, and you, not having any solid proof, didn’t know how to break the news, so you pretended to not know anything to find the correct moment to say it.

Still, you left little comments every now and then, not blaming him, but leaving a trail of doubts around, doubts that sadly were never enough for Gyong-ah, fracturing too much your relationship.

You even thought that maybe you were exaggerating too, maybe deep inside you just tried to find a reason for her to end things with him, he was never going to stay, he said it before when you three had dinner, he’d go back to Seoul next year, and contrary to all predictions, thanks to your friendship, you liked it here enough to stay.

The future wasn’t bright at all, but it was enough for you, maybe in a couple of years you could escalate to a better position, you’d get benefits, you would walk around the beach every Sunday morning, and then you’d go and have breakfast with Gyeong-ah.

You had to apologize, for the sake of your friendship.

However, you didn’t have to, or more than that, you could never do it, because three days later Gyeong-ah passed away.

Waking up in your free day, you sent her a text to ask for an hour of her time to talk, but she didn’t answer in fifteen minutes, and you just knew something was wrong.

Taking a cab to her house, you saw the ashes all around, and how her room was the one who started it.

‘’It seems the oven was on’’ you heard one firefighter say.

Dropping to your knees, you denied it, because she always checked everything at least three times before going to sleep, it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she would check the door, the kitchen, and would unplug her phone charger from the wall.

‘’I saw on the news that chargers can get on fire’’ she said, and you laughed in her face because that only happened once every thousand times, ‘’Well, with my luck, I could be that one time.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you said while knocking three times on her wooden headboard.

 It had to be him, it had to be him, it’s the only answer, she would never do it, she wouldn’t let her oven on in a million times, they didn’t know her like you did, and sadly, soon no one would remember her like you did.

Calling her mother was the hardest part, you couldn’t remember how the hug of a mother felt in real life, and when she wrapped you into her arms, you broke down with her, because even if you didn’t know her, Gyeong-ah had been telling her about you, always finishing the calls with the same sentence, ‘’Don’t worry mom, my friend’s is taking care of me here.’’

‘’I’m so sorry, I should’ve taken more care of her, I’m so sorry’’ you repeated in her arms, and her mother denied it, saying how that wasn’t your fault at all, but you felt as it was, because you could've stopped her from seeing him, you should’ve stopped her the minute you figured him out.

You didn’t, and it didn’t matter how many nights passed, you couldn’t sleep with the guilt consuming you.

Looking at the beach at night one day, not being able to sleep again, you remembered how the first day you arrived you were told to never go to the sea at night, and right there, you understood why that driver told you that.

For the first time ever, you thought that maybe, maybe, you should just get lost in it, like the fishers, like the tourists, like the innocents.

You weren’t none of them, none of them deserved it, but you were convinced you did.

And you were about to go meet her, until you realized that, there, on earth, you could continue taking care of her, because even if she wasn’t there with you anymore, you could do what was necessary to make Sangmin pay for what he did.

You wouldn’t survive another I should’ve, so you would do it, you would do what was necessary, and nothing would stop you.

Finding Sangmin’s information wasn’t hard, you just had to do a couple of clicks on the internet, and you had everything you could need.

If only you had done that before, but you refused to go back into social media, all your profiles were flooded with hate comments from people you used to work with, or your boss’s family, or people who didn’t know anything at all but felt the right to talk about your body, and she had also deleted all kind of social media for a similar reason, so none of you knew how he was about to get married, and how you had been right about the smell of her fiance's perfume and all the little comments you had left around.

It was simply impossible how they met was a coincidence, getting sex extorted just like Gyeong-ah? He knew how to get close to her and break down her walls, he planned everything, and finally, you had no doubt about doing something.

You planned to wait for him out of his job, you wanted to do it quick and easy, and no one would suspect you, you looked like a good girl, you were a good girl, you were one until he appeared and stole the little family you had, he stole your whole life, and you would do it too.

With a knife in hand, you waited for him to get out of work, and you thought that he would drive his car, but he didn’t, so you followed him down the dark street to an unknown place.

Gripping onto your weapon, you felt your heart punching your ribcage, nervous as never before.

I can do it, I can do it, you repeated inside your mind, trying to convince you again.

But you couldn’t, and entering an alley, letting him go, you started to cry while hugging your knees, apologizing to Gyeong-ah for not being able to do anything for her.

You felt a cold sensation touch your nape and you jumped away from it surprised, looking up at the sky night and watching the guy from work you never liked.

‘’Drink this’’ he pushed the water bottle to your face, almost obliging you to take it, and your heart started to beat again, knowing he had seen what you tried to do, knife on the floor easily to differentiate even in the dark.

‘’Gyeong… Su?’’ you tried to remember his name.

‘’Go home, sleep, and tomorrow go to work, the manager keeps calling you and leaving messages, your position is still yours’’ he said, almost immediately walking away, but you stopped him gripping his jeans.

‘’You saw me’’ you affirmed,

‘’I did’’ he didn’t try to lie.

‘’Don’t you think I’m bad? I tried to do something really bad.’’

Your voice almost broke, and your hand on his jeans was trembling.

He looked down at you, maintaining eye contact and scanning you, and you felt as if he was inside your mind, finding exactly what he wanted to know.

‘’You’re not bad’’, he said after a long silence.

‘’You don’t know me’’, you replied as soon as he finished talking.

He shrugged and pulling apart from your grip, he talked one last time before leaving, ‘’That’s true.’’

Completely alone there, you cried again until you felt satisfied, and looking up to the dark clear sky, you apologized one last time to Gyeong-ah, and to your mom, and to you, and after drinking the whole bottle of water, you walked to the beach, burring the knife into a hole in the sand you dug with your own hands, to then go home, take a shower, and sleep.

The next day you had to go to work, and you needed to sleep at least a couple of hours.

When you arrived at work the next day you told yourself to completely ignore Gyeong-su, not wanting to talk with someone who had seen you in such deplorable moments like the ones you had.

However, again, you were just a girl, and not having anyone around you anymore, he was the closest thing to intimacy you had.

The relationship you had wasn’t deep enough to be called a friendship, he rarely talked about himself, only keeping you company when he smoked a cigarette in his break and when his turn finished.

You can’t remember how you started to get closer to him, you just remember seeing him smoke near the plastic table behind the supermarket, near the entrance in which all trucks left the daily order of products, and sitting next to him in silence, missing the smell of the Marlboro Gyeong-ah used to smoke.

Somehow, it brought you a calm feeling, and your mind stopped thinking, becoming a blank sheet that didn’t need to be filled with anything, not memories of her, or your past life in Seoul, or Sangmin, only breathing and watching the ugly metallic green bars that surrounded the place as if it was a prison, separating it from the outside world.

He didn’t mind you staying there, and days after days, you started to notice his presence around more often inside the supermarket, and the little behaviors he had.

‘’A man of few words’’, you called him when he didn’t answer your question if he was from Seoul too, thing he never acknowledged, but it was too obvious.

He didn’t have the province dialect, he had a soft way of slurring words whenever the manager or his superior in the fish section made him questions, like most boys in the city did, especially those who worked as part-timers in convenience stores, a polite but tired tone, and you were sure he had received some kind of superior education because when you carried a copy of Justice written by Michael Sandel, he followed it with his eyes until you pushed it inside your bag.

‘’Those who insist that only bleeding wounds should count believe that post-traumatic stress reflects a weakness of character unworthy of honor. Those who believe that psychological wounds should qualify argue that veterans suffering long-term trauma and severe depression have sacrificed for their country as surely, and as honorably, as those who’ve lost a limb’’ you quoted the next day while he lighted his second cigarette and seemed more relaxed next to you.

‘’I’m too dumb for that’’ was the only thing he said before exhaling a long line of smoke.

You don’t know why, but after hearing him so sure while saying that, and after such a long time, you were able to laugh again.

Things were slightly getting better after two months, you could sleep at least four hours now, and you were doing things again, not only staring at your TV when you arrived home. You opened old books she had left at your house, cleaned your place more, and ate proper meals, and you still cried, but at least you were able to smile when you saw pictures of her in your phone.

Still, there were moments in which you crumbled, and one of them was when you heard what happened to Sangmin a long time ago, only a couple days after you tried to do… that.

You heard it from one of the clients, how weird things were happening, first the death of a former worker there in the supermarket, and then the death of her boyfriend, and how now there were other two girls dead.

‘’This never happened before those people started to move here’’ her companion, another elderly woman said, and of course they referred to the people like you, people that weren’t born or grew up there, but you couldn’t help but only think in what you had heard about Sangmin.

Sangmin was dead, and what should’ve brought you joy for fair karma, instead made you hide in the warehouse, crying and spiraling into your thoughts about Gyeong-ah, and how you didn’t even make an effort to make sure she got her real justice, cleaning her name from everyone’s mouths.

‘’What’s going on?’’ you heard Gyeong-su’s voice come from behind the shelf you were leaning to.

‘’He-He’s dead’’ you answered, you didn’t need much to think of how to phrase it, he knew who you were referring to.

‘’Isn’t that what you wanted?’’ he asked you.

You stayed silent, muffled cries hiding in your knees.

‘’I don’t know, but I’m hurting so much, and all I keep thinking about is how Gyeong-ah must have suffered more than me when she left this place, and how I’ll never be able to know if he received what he deserved, even more, how because of that I’ll never be able to clean her name, and now no one will remember her as clearly as I do’’ you then confessed.

Feeling like a sinner telling a priest all of her secrets, you felt as if something had left your chest free, your mind finally was out there, formed into words and tears, and you didn’t see his face, but that let you speak your mind even more free.

‘’I see’’ he murmured, ‘’and you’ve thought that all this time, I guess.’’

‘’Yes,’’ everything was out, your tears sliding down your cheeks and your body lighter, almost numb.

‘’Well, you shouldn’t compare your pain, or hers, or his, each of you went through things none of you three know, she doesn’t know how you’re mourning her death, you don’t know how she suffered the process of it, and none of you know how he suffered his, those are things none of you will ever know, so it’s okay if you hurt, but you don’t have to think much into what he deserved, because you’ll never have an answer, and you shouldn’t condition what you feel into an answer you’ll never receive.’’

You sniffed your tears, looking at the packages of toilet paper in front of you, wishing you could take one to clean your face.

‘’And I do remember her, not as clearly as you do, of course, no one will, she was your friend, but I remember she liked to buy fresh tuna every Friday to eat with you, she always had a blank face when the manager scolded her or when she talked to rude clients, and she would rarely smile, but with you, she would do it in front of others sometimes.’’

You exhaled.

That was exactly her, she liked tuna when you hated it, and you picked on her for having an old man's taste buds, you preferred chicken over it, but you let her win every time one of you had to choose, and yeah, she did stare blankly at others, including you, but if it was a good day, she would smiled at you with those white pearls she had inside her mouth.

Feeling as if some heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders, you exhaled and let your head fall to the shelf you were leaning into.

‘’You two were the city pair’’ he finished, making you laugh.

‘’You’re also a city boy’’ you said, and he coughed, ‘’and you’re a liar, you said you were dumb.’’

‘’I am, I never understood that book’’ he said before grabbing the box between you two, lifting it, and going out, leaving you there alone.

You felt as if finally, you had taken a step in the right direction, moving from your position, you cleaned your tears with the ugly blue vest, too hard for your cheeks, and waking you up with the pain.

A week later another girl died, and your boss had to organize a meeting.

‘’It seems the current situation is getting dangerous, especially for young girls, so the superiors have ordered all the women to leave while the sun is still up’’ he said, and you don’t know if it was because of an empathy people from where you grew up didn’t have, but you got surprised when none of the men argued with it, everyone nodding in unison.

You had permission to leave early, so you did it, not being able to share Gyeong-su’s company when your turn finished, only seeing each other in the first break.

‘’You’ll miss me’’ you said the first day, and he never made any sound to acknowledge your silly jokes, but this time he let a soft snicker, almost imperceptible, that made you smile too.

You tried to always do what you were told to, so you left before the sun went down, but that day you were in charge of counting merchandise in the warehouse, so you didn’t see how late it was until you checked your phone.

It was even later than the time for everyone to leave, so you quickly grabbed your things, said good night to your male coworkers, and left.

You tried to not get paranoid with the news, they specified that the killer only directed its attention to pretty girls, loving long legs and soft features.

Gyeong-ah and Sangmin cases were mentioned every now and then to repeat how dangerous things were getting, but they were never related to the girl’s deaths, being two different situations.

That’s why, you tried to convince yourself you would be okay, you didn’t share any of the characteristics the killer loved in their victims, and he supermarket wasn’t far from your house, but you didn’t dare to walk alone anymore between all the buildings, so you waited for a cab to appear and take you home.

You made sure to always be careful when you were alone, yes you took cabs, but you always had a pen on your hand and your phone ready to call 119 in the other, checking the routes and if the driver looked at you too much.

Everything was okay, you were already relaxed when you saw your building in front of you, so you shoved your things in your bag, pulled out the bill, and paid, walking home with an easy mind.

You never thought you would get snatched right next to your door.

With a hand on your mouth and the other on your tummy, you felt how you were dragged into the alley next to your building, darkness surrounding you while you felt a disgusting presence behind you.

The one who pulled you in was a man, taller than you, with big hands and an erection already ready to make your worst nightmare real.

You started to cry, muffled by his gloved hand, you couldn’t say anything when you heard his voice calling you sweet treat, ordering you to be silent if you didn’t want things to get ugly.

Begging Gyeong-ah, your mother, and God to send you help, you nodded when he said he would let you go if you were good.

‘’Promise?’’ he murmured.

‘’Promise’’ you agreed, closing your eyes and letting his hand cup your pussy with force, not making a single sound, only trembling with tears running down your cheeks.

He pushed your face to the wall and made you show him your bubbly ass, touching it as much as he wanted without an ounce of shame.

You thought this is it, my karma, repeating inside your head how this was your punishment for all the things you should and shouldn’t have done.

The man couldn’t even open the button of your jeans before you heard a loud bang and his body fell to the floor.

Staying in your position, you pressed your face to your hands and didn’t dare to turn around to see what was making all that noise, it was metallic, and it didn’t stop even when the man didn’t make a single noise anymore.

When things got silent, you, still trembling, turned your head to see what, or who stopped the man.

You never expected to see Gyeong-su covered in black clothes from head to toe, paint all over the floor, covering the man's body and face, and the can totally smashed and tossed to the side.

‘’Uh?’’ was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

‘’I knew he was going to come for you, this sick bastard’’ he said.

You didn’t understand why he thought that, and watching your white sneakers get ruined with the blood and the red paint, you started to cry even more, still in silence.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay’’ he said, giving you your messed bag and, once again, leaving you alone.

You called the police, the number still there on your screen ready to only press the green button, and when you did it, you said your direction as clearly as you could.

‘’Did you see who did it?’’ one of the officers asked you, and you stayed silent for a good minute before answering.

‘’I didn’t’’ then you said.

The two cops keeping you company looked at each other and then the one writing things down nodded.

‘’I see’’ was the only thing he said before leaving you alone.

You didn’t have much to do, the man was dead, and now nothing could be done.

Was that justice? You thought.

They immediately recognized him as the killer, he had a patron, pretty girls who lived alone, and all the bodies showed the same signs of abuse before dying.

Perhaps he had lied to all of them, and he had lied to you, convincing you that if you did no sound you would live, but you’d have died just like them at the end.

But did he deserve to die? Just like Sangmin, wasn’t there another way to get justice for your pain? For yours, Gyeong-ah’s, and all those girls’.

Still, what you knew was that, even if it was contrary to all your values, knowing how valuable life was, Gyeong-su didn’t deserve any punishment, he had saved you, and justice for you, was that he continued free out there.

The next day before you went to work, you saw rests of the red paint still over the cement, thin layers already dry after so many hours, cracked with the breeze of the sea, and you thought how, if Gyeong-su hadn’t saved you yesterday, what anyone else would have seen in daylight was your cold body lying out there.

All your coworkers hugged you when you arrived, and your manager told you to take the day off if you needed, but you couldn’t go back home or you’d start to overthink things again, if what you did was the correct thing to do, if he deserved to die like that, if you were a killer too, taking into account how you saved Gyeong-su’s secret.

When the first break came you walked out to the plastic table, but Gyeong-su wasn’t there, and hugging your coat, you sat to wait for him, but he didn’t come.

He avoided you for days, and you thought the pseudo-friendship you had was over, until a detective arrived and started to make questions about what had happened to you that day.

‘’You really didn’t see who did it?’’ he asked, and you denied again, already used to say that lie as if it was an unchanging truth, ‘’Do you mind if I walk around here a little bit?’’

You didn’t have a reason to say no, but your eyes caught how Gyeong-su opened the curtain separating the counter from the freezer where all the fish waited to be cut and packed to be sold, and how he immediately took a step back, not letting himself be seen.

You don’t know why, but you knew Gyeong-su didn’t want that detective to see him.

‘’I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to see any more cops lurking around, he’s dead, and looking at you only brings me back the bad memories of that night’’ you didn’t know why you said something like that, it didn’t make any sense, all the older ladies loved to see the cops near, feeling a lot safer, but you didn’t know what else to say to make them leave.

His younger companion frowned and was about to say something before the detective stopped him and nodded, leaving you his card and telling you to call him in case you ever needed help or remembered something.

You didn’t answer, shoving it into one of the numerous pockets your vest had, and turned your back to continue writing down the stock you were counting.

‘’Ugly girls should learn how to talk prettily at least’’ you heard the younger say.

‘’Shut up, she’s a victim, she doesn’t have to entertain you with pretty words’’ the older quickly replied, ‘’and you don’t know what you’re saying, her face is very pretty.’’

Jand Nam-gam, you read in the card he left you.

He seemed like the kind of person who was only respected by the people who were near him, used to receive no as answers, and a bit blunt and unsophisticated, from the city, just like you, but without the calm and respectable vibe a detective from there usually had, and too honest and correct to survive there for long.

When you went out for your break a couple of hours later you saw Gyeong-su sitting on the table, smoking and waiting for you.

You sat next to him and for the first time, you showed him your palm, asking for a cigarette too.

Without looking at you, he gave you the one he was smoking, still new and ready for you to take it.

Your fingers brushed his when he gave it to you, and you tried to not think much about it, but you always thought too much, so to shut your mind up, you inhaled the cancer stick and held it as long as you could, slowly letting the grey cloud appear in front of your face.

The city had the same grey color it used to have before Gyeong-ah, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay there.

Your imagination wasn’t filled with a future there, you didn’t want to walk around the beach anymore, you had no one eating breakfast with you in your head, and you were afraid every time your turn finished and you had to go back home, running the few steps to open your building door, and only feeling safe once you checked that your oven was off and you put a chair behind your secured door.

‘’I didn’t ask for your help’’ he then said.

‘’Me neither’’ you answered.

He nodded, still looking at the metallic bars surrounding you.

‘’How did you know I didn’t want him to see me’’ he asked, breathing the air and pushing his hands inside his apron pockets.

‘’How did you know he was going to come for me’’ you asked back.

He shrugged like every time you asked him anything he couldn’t ignore.

‘’I just knew he would come for you, after all, they said he followed pretty girls.’’

It felt completely different from when the detective said it, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a warm sensation reach your cold hands.

‘’I just knew it too’’ you said, tossing the rest of the stick to the floor.

It tasted like shit, and you couldn’t understand how he and Gyeong-ah smoked it every day.

‘’I won’t come to work tomorrow.’’

You felt incredibly alone again, you knew he meant that he wouldn’t come back, he would, again, leave you there on your own.

‘’Can you walk me home today? I’m afraid of going on my own.’’

He knew why you asked him that, a goodbye, a farewell, so he nodded and told you to wait for him at the front door.

Your turn finished and then you were waiting for him right where he had told you, a good girl following his words exactly like he wanted.

You stayed there, hands playing with the leather strap of your bag, the bag you used when you lived in Seoul, too noisy in the province, reason why you preferred to go around with your canvas tote bag, a lot more discreet and common, but that one had been ruined with the red paint that day, and just like your white sneakers, you had to toss it away.

When he appeared he nodded at you, indicating you with a tilt of his head to lead the way.

You two walked on silent, you couldn’t make any question or comment or silly joke, and it was obvious, by the grip on your bag, that you were nervous.

He noticed it, and pulling out his hand from the pocket of his bomber jacket, he grabbed your left hand and held it all the way to your house.

You felt incredibly calm, thinking how you shouldn’t because you knew, deep down, that he was dangerous. It was impossible, by the fear of facing the detective, that he hadn’t killed more people, and it was clear he was being followed.

That makes sense, you thought, if you weren’t sent to that province because of work, like Sangmin, you were hiding, and he was just like Gyeong-ah and you, escaping from things that had happened in the past, or perhaps, things that were still happening now.

But you hadn’t felt so safe in so long, because you knew that, with him, nothing would snatch you next to your house, and that no one would be able to enter your house, or that your oven was never going to magically explode.

With him by your side everything was okay, you were okay, and that was enough to make all those preoccupations disappear.

When you got to your entrance you let his hand go to open the principal door with your key, and he was behind you, observing you, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head, but when you turned to him, he let his eyes fall to the floor.

‘’Do you want to drink some coffee?’’ you asked, and he nodded, following you inside and walking up the stairs until you got to your little apartment.

It wasn’t amazing, but it was yours. You didn’t have an elevator, and you always had to go up to the fifth floor to let your clothes dry with a big basket, but it was okay, you liked your building, your neighbors were quiet, and you felt safe and sound there. Until that happened.

Inside your room you let him close the door for you, and you didn’t feel the need to immediately put the secure on, leaving your coat on the hanger instead, and taking off your shoes, you walked to your little kitchen, putting water in an electric kettle to boil it.

You could cook in your kitchen, but you never used the oven, and you preferred the electric kettle over the traditional one because once the water was done, it would automatically turn off.

Then you sat on the floor, leaving two cups, sugar and coffee over the little wooden table you had, and turning on the TV, you looked at him in the eyes until he sat beside you on the floor.

He was wearing an ugly grey sweater that kind of smelled like fish, mascaraed with what you identified as the cheap deodorant you sold in the store, but you were used to the fish smell he had, so you didn’t mind.

‘’Do you mind if I take a shower?’’ He said not much after.

You nodded, the news had just started, and you mindlessly changed the channel to try to find anything interesting.

 ‘’Sure, there are towels in the cabinet, I’ll get you some clothes, they’re mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit you’’ you said, and he didn’t waste a second to walk to your bathroom.

You gulped while changing the channels, you knew what you were going to do, but you hadn’t done it in so long, you needed a second to recognize what that sensation forming on your abdomen was.

You hadn’t done anything at all, and you felt yourself already getting wet inside your panties.

The click the jug did after the water was done caught your attention and you stood up to get the water, pulling out the cord from the plug, but knowing you had to get him his clothes, you walked to your little closet to find a t-shirt and some pants that could fit him.

He wasn’t buff at all, but he was lean, a normal guy there, not fat, not big, not small, and taller than normal, so you decided to find the biggest clothes you had.

You were choosing when you heard the door open and you felt him walking behind you, hands surrounding your waist and wetting your back with the drops that were still sliding down his chest.

‘’I chose this’’ you said, lifting the clothes so he could see them, feeling his breath touch the side of your neck and his nose brushing your skin.

‘’I’ll wear them later then’’ he answered, pushing you to your closed closet and making you turn to him.

You weren’t that short, but just then you noticed how much taller than you he was. He made you lift your eyes to him with a touch to your hands, taking the clothes from your hands and letting them fall to the floor.

‘’I- I don’t remember much how this was… it’s been years for me’’ you admitted, and he nodded.

‘’It’s been years for me too’’ he said, not as ashamed as you.

With the same hand that tossed the clothes, he made you look at him and accept his mouth over yours, taking the lead in the kiss and erasing all your thoughts.

It felt good, his lips were chapped, and he had the taste of smoke in his mouth, but you didn’t mind, it finally tasted good, and moving your hands to his neck, you let him press his body against yours, the lower half of his body only covered by one of your towels.

He wasn’t hard, but you could feel something poking at the front of your jeans, and you wanted him to lay on your bed, so after a couple of long minutes, and just after he had enough of your mouth, you murmured something.

‘’Let’s go to my bed’’ you begged with hazy eyes and weak legs, leaning onto him, who was holding you with his body against your closet doors.

He nodded, and taking your hand, he guided you there, making you sit and look up to him.

Your lights were on, and you felt nervous, you had never had sex with the lights on, you only had a couple of partners, and they always turned them off before fucking you.

‘’You can turn off the lights if you want’’ you said, looking at him in the eyes.

He didn’t answer, his hand went to your cheek, and he pressed the tips of his fingers over your skin, caressing it and then brushing your wet lips after all his kisses, slightly red and plump thanks to the way his lips covered them.

He didn’t acknowledge what you said, bending down to retake the contact between both mouths.

Full of life, unlike his usual demeanor, eager, he pushed you to your back, making you receive him between your legs.

Slightly harder, you felt the border of his boner only covered by the fabric damp your jeans, but he didn’t stop kissing you, one hand lying on your neck and the other helping him stay still over you to not let all his weight crush you.

You opened your legs as much as you could with the jeans stopping you from going too far.

 ‘’You know what I’ll do to you’’ he said after a minute.

You nodded.

‘’I won’t stop’’ he warned.

‘’I don’t want you to’’ you answered.

You knew no one was going to save you from that place, it wasn’t his job, so you’d accept this as enough, and you’d let him go without resentment and an I should’ve done it.

‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked, afraid of hurting you more.

‘’I want this to happen’’ you said, making him look at you, caress your cheek once again, and give you another kiss before his hands went to your button and helped you take your jeans off.

Sliding the clothing off your legs, he pushed your thighs wide open, and feeling the texture of the towel, his now hard cock against your clothed clit made you whimper.

‘’It feels good’’ you said, to what he agreed with you.

‘’It feels good’’ he affirmed.

He did soft movements to stimulate you with his cock, only letting you feel what would soon be inside you.

Looking at your eyes flutter, he pushed up your shirt, showing him your black bra hugging your chest.

Touching the skin uncovered by your cups, he pressed his thumb to see how far it could sink into your skin.

Your chest was bigger than normal, just like your tummy, but he liked it, it looked comforting and soft, perfect for him to rest a little bit, after his exhausting life, it looked like a taste of paradise.

You pushed his hands while taking your shirt off without asking, to then unhook your bra and toss it to the floor.

‘’Touch me properly’’ you said, making him snicker.

You had forgotten how that little grin looked like, and you smiled when it appeared again.

‘’Okay,’’ he replied, unabashedly grabbing both tits and groping them, looking at how the skin flooded his grip between fingers, and feeling good with both sensations, his cock against your cunt, and his hands in your chest, you closed your eyes and moaned, moving your head to your side and cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He didn’t let you hide yourself for long, making you open your mouth for him and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, obliging you to let the moans out.

Your panties were incredibly wet, and he left one of your tits free to sneak a hand inside them.

Juices gladly receiving him, he groaned when he felt you dripping all over his fingers.

Without asking, just like when you took your shirt, he introduced a finger.

You cried with his mouth over yours.

His finger was long, and it sent a delicious shock to your core, making you frown at how good it felt.

‘’More’’ you begged, and he gladly obliged, pushing one more finger to make scissoring motions and prepare you for him.

‘’Shit, it’s begging for it’’ he groaned when he heard how much your insides were squelching, asking for him to fill you up.

‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, listening to his nasty approbations telling you how good you’d take him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill that sweet pussy of yours.

Fucking you with his fingers, you moaned as much as you wanted, not caring to hide anymore, it was your only night with him, so you decided to not hold anything.

His mouth went to your nipple, tits falling to the sides of how heavy they were and shaking with his attention to your cunt.

He licked them, first with just the tip of his tongue, but then let it flat so it covered your buds and made you shake even more.

‘’Su- so good’’ you cried.

His fingers were making you dizzy, and you had to get up on your elbows to see his hand inside your panties moving to make you cum.

It was hard to see yourself like that, so naked, so exposed.

You couldn’t hide the way your tummy rolls were in front of his eyes, the marks on your skin, or the way your big tits didn’t look perfect on your body, but he seemed to not care, even liking it, guiding his mouth to your nipples again and looking into your eyes when he left soft pecks over them.

‘’You’re going to cum for me, right?’’ he murmured when you started to clench over him.

‘’I-I don’t know’’ you cried, never having an orgasm with your partners before, you didn’t know if that was an orgasm, or what the hell was it.

‘’You’re going to’’ he didn’t ask, ‘’and it’s because of my fingers, so good’’ he pushed his fingers faster and harder, stretching your panties with how brutal he was.

You couldn’t maintain your position and dropped over your back, crying with your walls pulsating around him.

‘’That’s it, so fucking good, my good girl’’ he said still moving his fingers.

You tried to push his hand away, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tears falling down your cheeks of overstimulation, and he stopped when you left a singular loud cry out, but only to take off your messed underwear and toss the towel wrapping his hips.

He let you take a second to breathe properly again, and pushing up your legs, he made you show him your glossy cunt, lips open and ready for him.

He couldn’t help it, it was all shiny and pretty, he had to taste it a little bit, and sinking to his knees over the floor, he pulled your body to the border of the bed, mouth going directly to your pussy.

Drinking your orgasm, the slurping sound was so nasty you had to put your hands over your face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘’That’s too much’’ you tried to stop him, but he, mouth still stuck to your entrance, and nose poking at your clit, denied with his head, smearing your arousal over his face.

‘’You have no idea all the things I want to do to you’’ he replied, pushing his thumb to your opening, and pressing his tongue over your clit this time.

You cried, hands going to his wet hair and trying to pull him away, but he was stronger than you, and you never had a chance to stop him.

You couldn’t fight him, so you wanted to finish quickly instead, hips jolting to feel him more and grasp that sweet second orgasm you felt coming.

About to call his name, he separated and said something before going back to his work.

‘’Lee Tang’’ he said, and that was enough for you to know what he meant.

That was his name, not Gyeong-su, but Lee Tang, and you thought, that fits him a lot more.

‘’Lee… Tang’’ you said as you could, and then the only thing that came out of your mouth was a ton of Tang, Tang, repeating proudly his real name.

You were so close that you could feel your toes curling, walls ready to let your orgasm free and relax again, and your back was curving, your body needing to cum once again because of him.

But he was so cruel.

He stopped, and getting up his knees, he thumbed your clit, flicking the little button a couple of times before he slid his dick between your lips, making you feel his length resting over you.

‘’Please, I’m so close, please’’ you saw the light of your room above him, watching his dark eyes examine you, searching for another answer in your eyes.

You left a disappointed cry when he, instead of touching, walked away to grab his jacket hung next to yours, and sitting, you saw him pull a little box from his pocket.

So that’s why he made me wait for him outside, you thought, he didn’t want you to see what he was buying.

Opening the film package, you saw him sliding the condom over his member with experience, walking back at you and showing you how it looked, slightly jumping over the air, standing hard and thick, and pushing you to your back again, he pressed his tip on your entrance, making you clench over it, and nodded to your past pleading. ‘’You deserve it’’ he said before pushing his member inside.

He didn’t let you adjust, but you didn’t need it, you just wanted him to keep moving, and soon that soft pace wasn’t enough for you.

‘’Fuck’’ you couldn’t hold the curses in your throat.

It felt so good, the weight of his member inside, pushing the limits of your walls, taking what he wanted from you, it was so good your hands searched for something of him to grip, finding his hands over your hips to maintain you in your place for him.

‘’Tang, so good, please make me cum’’ you cried.

One of his hands interlocked with yours, helping you find comfort between all the intense sensations your insides were feeling.

You looked so good under him, your chubby torse facing him, showing him everything he wanted to see, and your thighs jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You were close, and so was he, but he needed something more, a little thing that had been wandering inside his mind since he started to see you differently.

‘’Can you turn for me?’’ he asked, needing to see your pretty ass taking him.

Not answering, you immediately crawled further in your bed, and searching for your pillow, you hugged it, pressing your face to your bedsheets and showing him your ass without any ounce of shame left.

‘’Fuck me’’ you begged again, opening your lips with your fingers and showing him your entrance gaping around nothing, ‘’Tang, please fuck me.’’

His breath stopped, he had never seen something that bold and hot before, and he admired your needy side calling for him to calm you.

Going to you, he pushed his entire length inside, bottoming out and pushing it inside in a single thrust to see your gorgeous back and thick thighs trembling with his cock.

You were crying and hugging your pillow, shoulders becoming smaller and one of your hands on your back searching for his to hold it again.

Lee Tang, not daring to ignore you, his good girl, like that, held your hand.

‘’You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you, and now you can’t take it?’’ he teased, not liking how much he was spoiling you.

‘’No, I can take it, please don’t stop’’ you implored, feeling his hard and fast thrusts pushing your sanity away.

He didn’t care how weak he was to you, feeling your walls wrapping around him like that was like nothing he had felt before, watching the curves of your waist interrupted with your little fat rolls, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with his strength, taking his cock like a gift, and your hand not letting him go even with how hard he was being with you, was everything he ever needed.

Hearing your sweet moans and cries all out when you came, with your sweet walls fluttering around him, pushed the last string inside him, and he pressed his cock inside you to let everything out in the condom.

‘’Tang-‘’ you gripped his hand harder.

‘’Yes baby, I’m cumming’’ he exhaled, letting all inside you.

 ‘’Okay’’ you said happy.

He wished he could stay connected to you forever, but he couldn’t, and he had to pull out of you to make sure the condom, and you, were alright.

Going to the bathroom to toss it in the trash, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself with how relaxed he looked.

Tense all the time, he saw his eyes drowsy, ready to rest the whole night.

You, lying on your side to catch your breath, hoped that he could at least spend this night with you, his last night there, but maybe that was too much to ask.

When he came you didn’t look at him, and he simply accommodated behind you, spooning you with a hand over your tummy, letting his hand land there, and sighed.

‘’Let’s get inside the covers, the night is cold’’ he murmured, and you followed his request.

Under your bedsheets, a lot warmer thanks to the fabric and his skin, your mind started to drift away, so you looked at him one last time before falling asleep, closing your eyes when he left a last kiss over your lips.

When you woke up you were alone, feeling incredibly sore, and sad.

You stood up to drink a glass of water, not thinking much about how lonely you felt, concentrating on what would you do later that day to fill your head.

Would you be able to stay? You doubted it, you had too many memories here, and maybe the driver was right, all of you would leave one day.

You were about to go back to bed when you saw a little note next to your electric kettle.

I’ll come back in three weeks was written, and you closed your eyes, happy to not be abandoned again.

You had to stay so he could find you, that was your home now.

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16 Dissection

Wow. Just wow. What a way to end off the chapter. (/pos)

I wasn't expecting to have a whole lot to theorize about with this one (especially given its relatively shorter length), but buckle in, because I'm sure I'm going to have a lot to say about the way that the end of this brilliant chapter played out...

Enough to call this a Part 1 again, much like I did last time. That means I have a rate of way over one image per minute...

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time through the end of Chapter 2. (wild) Also spoilers for SDR2 through the beginning of Chapter 4.

When I was first watching the episode, I definitely had the thought, "I wonder if MonoTV is just saying this for the sake of engagement with the theoretical audience, because it seems like MonoTV should already know what the answer is due to its role and what the students just said." Based on what happens later in the episode, that was probably about correct? I dunno, there's a lot to unpack with MonoTV here.

Who Voted Teruko?

(For all two people who would understand the reference, please read that header in the tone of "who voted Sifu?" from Survivor 45. Or, really, I should probably say one person, because it's probably just Venus :P)

So, it's happened once again. While the clear majority of the votes are on the correct blackened, Ace, we have a single straggler who decided to vote for Teruko instead. But, who is this mystery person? Let's talk possibilities.

First, however, I think we should take a look at last Trial's voting results.

What I find strange is that the order of the students, even those who weren't voted for, changed. My guess was that students who receive votes are put at the front, students who are dead are put at the end, and the middle seems to be alphabetized by last name order?

Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Markey - Nageishi - Rosales - Tobisa - Young

Interestingly, if true, this means that J was being categorized as "J Rosales" even when she was still going by "J Moreno" in Chapter 1. Fascinating.

Anyways, the Chapter 2 board has shuffled things around. Obviously Min and Arei have been moved down since they died, and Ace was moved to the top because he now has votes. However, the end of the lineup also changed, for some reason.

Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Young - Tobisa - Rosales

What does this mean? Honestly, I have no clue. None of the students stayed in the same positions relative to each other (as in, Whit is no longer after Eden, Eden is no longer after J, etc), so I don't think it can be used to particularly suspect any of them? If anything, I think Eden would look the least suspicious, because at least she stayed in the middle while J and Whit swapped who was at the beginning or the end.

It's possible this was just an editing mistake, but I figured I'd point it out in case it helps anyone with their theories. (Clearly, it's just evidence that Whit is one step closer to becoming a Cuevas--)

Back to the original point, who was the one Teruko vote? In Chapter 1, I think it's pretty widely agreed upon that Min voted for Teruko. However, Teruko got two votes in Chapter 1, so the possibility remains that it could be the same person who's voted for Teruko twice now. I've gone on the record to say that I thought Arei was the one to provide Teruko her second vote in Chapter 1, but thankfully numberoneanika helped me to see how there could have been other options.

Obviously, Arei wasn't the one to vote for Teruko this time. So, with that in mind, here are my best theories:

Ace

Pros: Doesn't want to die, and therefore might not want to vote for himself. Probably the most obvious option.

Cons: At the end of 2-15, Ace was, all things considered, pretty accepting of his upcoming death. He said that the only reason he was fighting back was to stall for time, but that he knew that there was no way he'd get out of the Trial alive. Voting for Teruko doesn't help him delay the inevitable at all. If he were trying to cast a vote in the vain hope that it would save him from death, I would have expected it to go to Eden. Also, I doubt that Ace would have been the extra vote for Teruko in Chapter 1, to the extent that's important.

David

Pros: Dislikes Teruko and wants to cause chaos. It's also possible he could have cast the extra vote on Teruko in Chapter 1, if he had already made up his mind about wanting to take the killing game off the rails.

Cons: Honestly, I don't know if there are any direct cons to it being David who cast the vote. He might have been able to get more emotional damage for his buck if he'd voted for Eden or something? I don't know.

Teruko

Pros: Believes herself to be at least partially at fault for the deaths of her fellow classmates and doesn't like it. Therefore, if she can't bring herself to have another hand in their deaths by casting a vote on them, she could vote for herself (believing she can't die) instead. This is also an option that could easily be repeated across all Trials, if important.

Cons: If Teruko wants to proceed with not helping all of her other classmates die, it's in her best interest to vote correctly, instead of swaying the votes to an incorrect answer and having everyone but Ace die.

The Mastermind???

Pros: While it's not a guarantee, the mastermind likely has a grudge against Teruko (assuming the mastermind is not Teruko herself), due to the "kill Teruko Tawaki" missive/note. Therefore, they could be voting for her due to their grudge. From a narrative sense, this would also "ensure" that this phenomenon can happen at every Class Trial, if that's what DRDTdev wants.

Cons: Although I just laid out their motive, this would be an incredibly petty thing for the mastermind to do and could potentially give the innocent students needless additional information about their identity.

Conclusion? I think it's most likely to be David. After my blunder last time, though, I'm definitely willing to hear out other options if people have candidates to propose!

Also, it's nice that they updated David's portrait to include his new Look. I imagine some art intern scurrying around behind the scenes trying to find a good screenshot of David to use on the board in the last hour of the Trial.

Yo, wait, is that an anti-MM-coded line for Whit? Because the mastermind would obviously expect there to be more than one Trial? Can we get some more of these??? (/j)

Also kinda anti-Whit-knowingly-being-in-a-time-loop lines, for anyone who's been considering that theory. Unless he's just really deep undercover, to the level where he's interjecting lines that go against the theory to a group of people who have yet to suspect him for it at all.

LET'S GO NICO PARALLELS!!!!!!

Hu: How could you say it's just misfortune? Arei wasn't killed because of an accident. Bad luck or not, Ace had made up his mind to go through with this murder! So we can't possibly blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.

🔥🔥🔥THE BLAMING YOURSELF SISTERS🔥🔥🔥

Well, more or less. Teruko is fully blaming herself under the name of "misfortune"-- that much was made clear by the end of the episode, if nothing else. But Hu is coping by continuing to blame Ace convincing herself that there's nothing she could have done, and therefore isn't actually to blame. It doesn't matter how reliable she was-- because she was reliable, she promises-- because Ace was going to kill anyways. Basically, it doesn't matter how much of an immovable object she was because Ace was such an unstoppable force. Ignore the fact that the whole debate is about which of those would win.

Hu's stance is fascinating, though, because it means that she's somewhat buying in to the idea of fate. Arei was fated to die, Ace was fated to kill, no skin off your back. Given that MonoTV itself represents fate, it seems clear that one of the main messages of this story will be fate doesn't exist/is what you make it, which means that, to some degree, all of the characters will have to be representatives of or affected by that, with believing in the concept of immutable fate being represented as the villain. (I'm sure I'll talk about this more next time I talk about mastermind candidates.)

Therefore, Hu cashing in on the fate idea could be good or bad for her. It might be important that we establish that she does believe in fate, much like Teruko does, because she'll need to face it and denounce it on her way to survivor-hood. Or, this could be a subtle indicator that Hu will always lean on fate to protect her own sense of self, a red flag for her being a killer or possibly even a mastermind in the future.

Hu is clearly being set up to be a major player in Chapter 3, though, which is great for me, because that's exactly what I wanted! Let's get you some real daily life screentime, girl :)

Absolutely raw line here.

Eden: I... I can't forgive him. He killed Arei, after all. She was innocent, and he killed her for unfair reasons. But... those unfair reasons were unfair to him as well. Veronika: [...] When we first met Ace a week ago, he was the same person, certainly, but he was also different. He was happier, and he trusted people more. And he wasn't a murderer back then. Still, between then and now, he changed. He had to. Like adding stones to a pane of glass, one after another, until eventually, the glass cracks. The only thing anyone can do in this killing game is to shatter.

And another raw line from Veronika at the end of her section. I can't wait to see both of those lines used as captions for people's fanart.

Still though, on top of being true (and highlighting how Ace did actually change for the worse), this also feels like a reminder to us that the characters are changing over the course of the killing game. Therefore, a character who said one thing in Chapter 1 might not feel the same way once they hit Chapter 3 and beyond. Being in the killing game takes a toll on everyone, and the self-discovery it inspires can lead people to do things that they never would have done before. Case in point, Levi sacrificing himself for Teruko later in this episode.

SO true Veronika. Casual reminder to you all that this is literally only overall Day 8 of the killing game. Xander was alive less than one week ago for these people.

If I had a nickel for every time that Ace was compared to glass in Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

(Also, the clock-themed music is back. I wonder what it's supposed to represent...? *adds it to my already way too long list of theories to write now that the Chapter has ended*)

Genuinely WHAT was acevi cooking this episode. (/pos) I had never been super into the ship before because of how seemingly incompatible they were after the first trial, but seeing how much they clearly care about each other (or at least how much Ace cares about Levi) I'm kind of compelled to now. This truly was the toxic yaoi Trial ever.

Hey, FF called it in the "Blackened's Blaze of Glory" idea! Also, WOAH WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!

Let's go, Ace animation! It's nice to see that he was able to participate in one before he died. And wow, did he participate indeed!

It's kind of crazy how breakable MonoTV is due to its screen face. Like, you can't just do that to a Monokuma; his head is likely too hefty. But, even though MonoTV is breakable, it doesn't mean anything in the end. False hope at its finest.

This is the face of someone going, "wait, was it really that easy?"

HOLY SHIT

Out of all the lines and events of this episode, it's quite possibly this line that has made me go the most insane. Just goes to show that I am way too invested in the lore of this series. (/j)

So, this is a direct confirmation that XF-Ture Tech was involved in the creation of MonoTV, and therefore, quite possibly the implementation of the killing game as well. That's huge. I mean, not too unexpected given how important it clearly was to Xander, Min, and even altDRDT, but I wasn't expecting to get confirmation here and now of all places.

Given this, I would not be at all surprised if the altDRDT character known as XF is the one who created MonoTV. Like, she might be the Ultimate Roboticist or Ultimate Software Developer or something. It also means that the mastermind very likely has some sort of positive association with XF Tech, so sus on Min (sponsored by XF), Rose (has connections to one of the Spurlings), and possibly J (family runs in wealthy circles). Of course, if XF Tech is directly partnered with HPA in some way, it could also be someone who's particularly associated with the school-- although, that would most likely be Min again.

There's also the question, "why did MonoTV have a different personality than the default driver," which is related to the question, "what was the default driver created for?" My immediate thought was that XF Tech might just have robot assistants that generally help them, and that was the default personality that was assigned from MonoTV. However, XF (or whoever else) found that boring for the sake of entertainment, and decided to jazz MonoTV up, possibly to make it more like Monokuma.

Then again, it's been highlighted again and again that MonoTV is really incompetent. Surely, that's not something that someone who wanted the killing game to succeed would want to program into their host. It could have been an accidental side effect, but if MonoTV really was made by the Ultimate Roboticist, would that person really make mistakes? Is it possible that MonoTV's personality could have been made that way to subtly sabotage the killing game?

(I understand I'm furthering logic off of a string of assumptions-- not trying to lay down the law here, just running you through my initial thought process upon considering this evidence.)

Given that MonoTV told us in Chapter 2 Episode 3 that it has a lot of limits and there's a lot it still doesn't know about the killing game, I don't think that this is a situation in which MonoTV's AI expanded so much over time that it developed a new personality. Especially because that means that all that development would have needed to happen before the killing game began, off screen. That's why I think that MonoTV's alternate personality needs to have a human explanation, which I believe might be tied to XF.

I don't have any "answers" to this question because I don't think we're meant to have any at this point, but I also can't make any particularly compelling guesses about it without reviewing a lot of the evidence we already have. (*adds another theory to my mental theory list*) I am thinking about this though. I'm thinking about it a lot...

MonoTV: Full restart scheduled in one hour.

Also, I take this to mean that MonoTV will likely be back to its usual personality come Chapter 3. It might have a slightly different design to take into account the broken screen, but I think the personality will remain the same.

(If MonoTV's body does get fixed, would that mean that there are multiple copies of MonoTV out there, or that someone fixed MonoTV within that tight time window???)

MonoTV is in your walls.

Also, here's a list of all the students who are shown reacting in a confused/scared manner after MonoTV begins to restart: Eden, Rose, Ace, Nico. Doesn't mean that they can't be the mastermind all of a sudden, but it is probably evidence to the contrary. After all, the mastermind would likely be the one most aware that this could happen. And, if you only build in four slots of people reacting in disbelief (such that there are plenty of people who could slip under the radar), it might make more sense to give those lines to people who are actually genuinely shocked, much like the audience.

Also also, I think that the text on MonoTV's screen reads, "Falling back to default driver. Restart in an hour." AKA, not much lore to be taken from there, other than that it's once again called the "default."

It's MonoTV Time Again

More absolutely essential information when it comes to cracking what exactly MonoTV is. This is a killing game that is, first and foremost, designed to kill everyone, not going for anything like "redemption" or "revealing the truth."

It's also fascinating that it says "every participant." Not even "every participant except one"; the killing game wants to kill everybody. What does that tell us?

This killing game is likely NOT an attempt to imitate Junko. In that case, they would be prepared for the possibility of multiple survivors.

The mastermind, assuming they're amidst the cast, is willing to die for the bit. Every participant includes themselves.

XF-Ture Tech also default wants everyone to die. This likely means that they were willing to sacrifice Min for whatever this plan was. Sorry, Min :(

Now, it is definitely possible that any of these ideas are an overstatement. Killing all of the students is stated to be MonoTV's purpose, NOT the purpose of the killing game as a whole. Therefore, it could be that MonoTV is programmed to want all of the students to die, to minimize the chance that it would develop any feelings of sympathy and start to work against the killing game. Meanwhile, the mastermind is expecting there to be one or more survivors, potentially including themselves.

However, that is just a minor potential discrepancy, and I find it likely that DRDTdev intended this scene to comment more on the rationale of the killing game as a whole. In which case, this is a fascinating look into the mastermind and XF Tech's rationale.

He cares about Charles so much :,) <3

I know some people have been using this as reason to suspect him ("why would he be more focused on Charles not getting traumatized than telling Teruko, who he theoretically also cares about, to run"), but personally, I didn't read it that way at all. (I say as, like, the #1 Whit Isn't Evil defender lmao)

First of all, from a pacing perspective, I think it was nice to have a quick break from people just telling Teruko to run. We have Eden saying that, followed by Charles saying that, so having the third instance be something a little different helped break up the repeat information, in my opinion. J tells Teruko to run immediately afterwards anyway, so you still get the same effect of everyone warning Teruko as the clock ticks down.

Secondly (and more importantly), I think that this could easily be an indication of Whit seeing Charles as sort of an extension of his mom. Not in the sense that he sees Charles as family, but that Whit had one person who he really, really cared about, and he couldn't stop them from dying or being hurt. Even though Whit does generally care about the others, after Xander and Min died, he realized that he wouldn't be able to save everyone. And, he wasn't even particularly interested in trying in the first place-- after all, he said that solving the fights between others wasn't his business, so it's not like he's trying to be everyone's savior.

If Teruko is already dead, then that's how it's going to be; there's nothing he can do about it. But he can try to protect the person he cares about most in this killing game from suffering, because he refuses to have that person exit his life again. The fact that Whit is prioritizing Charles' safety over anything else in this moment will only make it all the sadder when Whit fails to prevent Charles from dying in Chapter 3, and make the impact of his returning loneliness all the more catastrophic.

Obviously, that's just my theory and not a fact, but I do think that it's one reasonable way to explain why Whit said that here without having to cast him in any sort of suspicion. It's a possibility.

Yet another instantly iconic line. I'm so happy that DRDTdev is doubling down with this being the reality of Teruko's talent, because pushing the abilities of someone who's talented with luck is so fun!

Although, not gonna lie, in this moment, I was actually flabbergasted and frantically running through options of who I thought the replacement protagonist might be. Like, Eden? Charles?? When people said they thought David might become the protagonist, THEY DIDN'T MEAN FOR CHAPTER 3!!!

Also, absolutely diabolical to hide Teruko's execution in plain sight as the thumbnail, under the guise that this was meant to represent Ace's death. Gosh.

But it was actually Levi who got shot, which is fascinating! I also thought they might kill him here as sort of a pre-emptive double kill (as in, "keep on pace with the typical number of fangan survivors while not actually having to explain why a double kill occurred"), but from the way the rest of the episode plays out, I think it's pretty clear that he'll live through this experience.

He'll almost certainly have some sort of design update, though, which I'm excited to see. Let's hope he doesn't suddenly turn into a robot, a la Nekomaru. (I imagine this scene may have originally been inspired by creating an alternate take on Nekomaru taking a bullet for Akane.)

As for why Levi did this for Teruko, Venus explained to me what I now believe is probably the most likely reason: he's repaying a perceived "debt" he owed to Teruko after she saved him from being executed back in the Prologue. (Other people may have reached this conclusion as well, but I heard it from Venus first)

Teruko already saved his life once before, so now, he believes he owes it to her to save hers. Obviously, Teruko seemed pretty confident about surviving the execution, but he may have still thought that causing her to suffer a coma or the loss of a limb was big enough of a threat that she shouldn't have to suffer through it.

That sort of idea would also tie into what I originally thought might have been some of his reasoning: that he doesn't think very highly of his own life, and was willing to sacrifice it for someone who he considered "good"/more important than him. It would also allow him to die as a hero saving someone's life, rather than a heartless monster who ended lives. Not saying that this is a healthy rationale, but, well, the guy just threw himself in the line of fire for someone who said they'd be fine. Also, it's DRDT. Nobody here has a healthy rationale.

Btw, this ⬇

Levi: I don't understand. I can't understand you, no matter how hard I try.

Is the last thing that Levi was ever able to say to Ace (as well as Levi's last line of the Chapter). Have fun with that, acevi nation.

My heart broke in half when I saw Rose react in this way. Hang in there, queen...

MonoTV: Don't worry. I shut off the gun as soon as I detected that Levi was in the way. His injuries are not fatal.

Also, MonoTV's default programming still includes it saying things like "don't worry"? Fascinating.

Motherfucker Not Another Clearly Important Info Jumpscare-- (/j)

So, uh. Whit got a new sprite in Chapter 2 Part 2 other than his trying not to laugh one. Yaaaaaaay... (dissolves into tears)

Points of interest about the sprite itself: obviously, this is the closest thing that we've gotten to a scary/breakdown sprite for Whit thus far.

If you look at his eyes, you'll see that they've gone gray/black as opposed to his usual blue, and his heart-shaped pupils and arrow-circle design have gone completely missing. This makes him I believe the third character whose eyes turn gray when they're experiencing negative emotions thus far, after Xander and David. Another knight at the table of Sir Light Pollution! Although, notably, Xander and David's eyes always had some gray in them, while Whit's, prior to now, were 100% blue.

Whit is also holding one hand behind his back, which could be concealing something? I saw a comic (which I thought was drawn by gooseagain8, but I checked their account and I couldn't find it--) where he was holding a remote to keep the Trial doors shut behind his back, and now I can't think of anything else, haha. However, I also don't know where Whit would have gotten that remote from, so it's probably not that specifically.

I don't think I even have to explain why people would use this to think that Whit is the mastermind. It's pretty obvious. However, I do think that this probably diminishes the odds of Whit being your standard "revealed in Chapter 6" mastermind, because it's so obvious. Fangan authors, naturally, can do whatever the hell they want, but it seems unfitting for DRDTdev's behavior so far to give such a massive hint for something that's so far down the road. I say this because, with the mysteries of Mai, and XF Tech, and who says the quotes at the beginning of the Chapters, and LGI, DRDTdev seems to have a track record of enjoying a long-running mystery, and making complex, layered puzzles that the most insane of fans can go back and forth on for hours.

If this was meant to be a hint that Whit will be revealed as the mastermind in Chapter 6, I'd think we'd get, like, a sprite with Whit's hand behind his back but without the scary expression, or he'd say something more subtle like "don't you just love it when you can't get the door open?"

Instead, we get this incredibly in-your-face, obviously suspicious sprite, that even someone who had never seen an episode of DRDT before in their life could easily point out to suspect that Whit is evil. So then, why else could it be included?

One option is that it is meant to foreshadow that Whit will take on a more villainous role, but in the shorter term. He could be revealed as a mastermind or traitor in Chapter 3. My problem with this sprite as evidence of Whit as a late-game mastermind is that this is a really big hint. Generally, with a reveal like that, you'd probably want to build up to the reveal with bigger and bigger hints. For instance, you could say that DRDTdev started off with the small hint that Whit knows a lot about what people think, then move up to the medium hint that he and MonoTV have similar styles of humor and meta jokes, then move to the bigger hint that Whit suddenly knows a ton about how hanging works, for some reason. This piece of evidence is such a big hint that Whit is the mastermind (under the assumption that it is that) that I don't really know where you'd go from here without just saying that Whit is the mastermind. We've eliminated the possibility that the hints could grow any bigger, cutting the trail off early. Therefore, at the moment, I think this only (narratively) works if this is the last hint we get that Whit is the mastermind, which would mean that Whit would have to be outed soon.

Alternatively, I definitely think it's possible that DRDTdev is setting up Whit as an intentional red herring, a bait with which to divert the audience's attention away from whoever the real mastermind is. It could just be a fun game for the fandom, or actually come into play in the main plot in the future, if someone accuses him of being the mastermind on these charges. That's sorta the assumption I'd been operating off of before witnessing this scene. However, if that's the case, then DRDTdev shouldn't just have Whit do all of these things without creating an in-universe explanation for why he did them. Whit would have to have a completely innocent reason for striking this pose at this point, which... oh boy.

Not gonna lie, it's been difficult for me to come up with a non-sus explanation for this sprite that doesn't make it sound like I'm 100% coping, but I'll try my best. Anybody got some more of those spare anti-MM-coded Whit lines I asked for earlier?

Given the presentation of DRDT, when we see this sprite of Whit, we don't know what he's looking at. It's easy to jump to the assumption that he's looking at the students who are trying to open the door, but it's also possible that he's just looking at the door itself. Like, he's also just expressing his anger at the door for not opening.

If that's the case, it would probably be for the same rationale that I used to justify his line protecting Charles earlier. He doesn't want Charles to suffer, which means that he wants Charles out of this room now. The hand behind the back, then, is a tad confusing, but there are a few explanations I can think of.

The first is that this sprite was created with further uses in mind down the road. For instance, if Whit later hides a gun behind his back (don't ask how or why he would non-suspiciously have a gun), then this sprite may have been prepared to handle that circumstance so that it doesn't have to be redrawn later. Of course, to this point, DRDTdev hasn't held back with creating unique sprites for unique situations-- check out how many sprites Teruko and Ace have for likely just this episode. So, it's probably more likely that, if Whit does need to hide something behind his back later, it would have been drawn then.

The second is that just the hand is a red herring. The facial expression is real (being mad at the door), but DRDTdev made him hide his hand behind his back so that people would think he was concealing something. Overall, I think that's an acceptable level of red-herring-ness. You aren't faking something as big as the facial expression itself, but you still throw in a little false lead to throw the audience off of the scent. However, in an ideal world, there would still have to be an in-universe explanation for why he did it. Unless he just chose this moment to scratch his lower back, I don't know what that would be.

That's all I have for now, but I don't necessarily think that this sprite means that Whit has to be evil in some capacity. However, it's done the best job so far of making me think that he is, so I'll keep my mind open to that in the future.

This is such an excellent end to Ace's character. Like, I was already nodding my head along with all of the people who expressed why Ace's death here was narratively satisfying, but having him finally accept death in order to save Levi's life is a beautiful cherry on top.

I like it because it doesn't make Ace's death as overall depressing as everyone thought it would be. Ace was about to die believing that he was a piece of shit who never changed, even when everyone else wanted him to and was able to themselves. But, even if he might not have realized it, accelerating his own death for Levi's sake means that he did change. He was finally able to conquer his fears by looking them straight in the face. And, if the theories are correct that Ace had a hand in Taylor's death...

Ace: Because... because Levi is gonna fucking die, and I'm going to have a third goddamn death on my hands!

(Here's iistardust-and-sprinklesii's post, which first brought the idea that "third death" might mean that Ace was adding Levi on to his kill count of Arei and Taylor to my attention, at least.)

...it means that he also got to save a friend this time instead of killing him.

Obviously Ace's death is still a tragedy-- every death in the killing game is-- but just like Arei, he was still able to improve himself from who he was before he died. It's a really poetic ending that really hammers in the point that everyone has the capacity to be a good person, even in their last moments.

Really really really loved Logan's performance as Arturo here. This is the most... I don't know, human? Arturo has ever sounded. He sounds really young and afraid, which is totally befitting of the scene. It's not like I now believe that Arturo is a great guy and shoo-in survivor or anything, but it endeared me a lot to his character.

Also "I have no experience with saving lives" Felicity OOF.

This CG goes so fucking hard. First of all, I love the way that DRDTdev drew the hair and the fabric folds. They're always great, but I think that the extra sharpness and blockiness going on here serves the pointedness yet bluntness of Ace's words. Second of all, THE COLORS. Not only has everything become more red to highlight the fire and passion behind Ace's words, but it's also ACE'S COLOR. Ace is literally dyeing Arturo with his final message before he dies. I don't think we've really seen Arturo and Ace interact before (other than implied horror trio, I guess), so this was a fascinating move to make with regards to Arturo's character moving forward.

This is another way that Ace's character ends satisfyingly. Kind of funny that he's parroting this message when he just internalized it from Teruko, like, 15 minutes ago, but I understand why it resonated with him. And, like Levi, why he might have overstated this lesson so that he could go out as (even more of) a hero.

Execution Rambling Time!

This execution had a lot going on, so I expect to have a lot to say about it. We'll start here, with the name: Thanatophobia. For anyone who wasn't aware, it means, "fear of death." Totally makes sense, especially given Ace's eventual cause of death. I guess MonoTV/the mastermind/XF Tech(??? INSANE) knew enough about Ace to know that he was going to die of fright at the end? Eh, that's how most executions work, so I don't think it gives us too much to work with.

However, this is a confirmation that executions in DRDT are more based on what will cause students despair than directly what their talent is. It was kind of hard to tell with Min, given that her talent (Ultimate Student) and her fear of failing and being wrong kind of went hand in hand. However, horses were not the focus of this execution; Ace's personality was. Cool to keep in mind for future executions.

Drdtblingsceo (and perhaps others, but they were the first person I saw) was able to make out that not only does the grave on the left say "Taylor Riley," but the two other graves also say "Felicity Giles" and "Elliot Cuevas." (You can't really make it out in my screenshots, but you can see it better in the linked post. Sorry, I have a fairly old computer :( ) Terrible news for Mr. Riley, but great news for us when it comes to speculating about Ace's past. I wonder what caused Ace's secret to be about his eating disorder, rather than his dead friend that he seemingly blames himself for?

I was very closely inspecting this frame to see if it would contain any easter eggs about what happened in Xander's past. As far as I can tell, the article titles read, from right to left:

Unexplained Illness Kills Thousands

More People Are Dying of Cancer Than Ever Before

Flu Season Claims Thousands of Lives

Chronic Kidney Disease Mortality Death Toll Continues to Climb

??????? (I don't think this one actually has any text)

Falling Rates of Survival for Hospitalized Patients

Antibiotic-Resistant Infections a Growing Threat in Hospitals

Article #1 is the article that's zoomed in on for dramatic effect. As far as I can see, none of the actual paragraphs of any of the articles are legible.

We can fully rule out #2, #3, and #4 as being related to Xander-- those are all real-world diseases that don't really match up with the sickness Xander described. #5 is also out, because, even if it was meant to relate to Xander, it has no content, and therefore, nothing to analyze. I don't know why it's there, but it gives nothing.

#1, #6, and #7 all have the possibility of being related to Xander-- most likely #1, given that it was the one that was zoomed in on-- but that's only because they're vague. Therefore, we can't really learn anything more about the North C and Chariton incident from them. Still a good idea to check them, in my opinion, but they don't seem to bear any fruit.

Goddammit, do I really have to run out of images *now*? Like, in the middle of the execution? Fine, I'll be back to finish what I've started in a bit. Thank you for reading this far, and look out for the reblog hopefully later today!

[random-potat]

and they were roommates - kjs. - pt. 4

part 4. moving in (wc. 456)

Packing your belongings that's enough for six weeks in forty-five minutes is definitely easier said than done, but alas, it is not completely impossible. Honestly, you can't really tell if you are overpacked or underpacked. What mattered most was that Bada didn't kill you for procrastinating.

With five minutes to spare, you rush down to the parking lot to store your luggage in the trunk of the car.

The rest of your members come down to say goodbye. Let's just say the dramatics were turned on, that's for sure. 

“I'm surprised you actually packed quickly,” your leader says. 

“What can I say? I'm serious about my cookie dough.” 

"I can't believe you’re leaving me behind,” Ria dramatically wails. 

Rolling your eyes, you pull her in for a hug. “It’s not like I’m permanently moving; I’ll be gone for like six weeks.” You pat Ria’s back and say, "Plus, we’ll still see each other for practice.” 

“That’s only if there is something to practice for.” Eunwoo interrupts, hugging the two of you. 

Bada lovingly pinches Eunwoo. “Don't say that, Eunwoo, we still have festivals to practice for,” Bada says as she joins in the group hug. 

“As much as I would hate to break this group moment, we really have to go now, YN,” manager Woo interrupts. 

After saying what seems to be but isn’t really your final goodbyes to your group members, you head into the car for a long one and a half-hour drive away from the city.

After a long ride that only involved sleeping, you arrive outside of the shared villa that you’ll eventually be sharing with five other people, who also happen to be idols. “Can’t wait to get cancelled,” you thought. 

Manager Woo begins to give you a quick debrief of what is going to happen.  

“Everything is already set up in the house. The producers will be in the hallway guiding you where to go, and you guys will all be entering individually.”

“Wow, this is some Love Island-type shit. Minus the love part,” you quickly look around your surroundings, “and the island,” you respond.

Manager Woo gives you a stern look and says, "After that, everything is going to be directed by the producer. Schedules will be sent to you like normal, but most things won’t interrupt the filming for this show.

You nod your head.

Manager Woo gave a small smile, "Just enjoy the experience, don’t take everything too seriously, okay?”

"Sir, yes, sir.” You send a mocking salute.

Getting out of the car and dragging your luggage towards the house, you take a deep breath in and out. “Of course I’m the first one going in. Well, here goes nothing. A hot new bombshell enters the villa.”

a/n: very subtle love island references cause that was my hyperfixation when i was writing this in the summer :p but other than that hope you guys are enjoying it so far. really just creating this as i go but i do have ideas that i know i want to be in the story, so we'll just have to see where this ends up lmao!! also school has officially started as im posting this so that's really fun :)) much more writing to do although essays aren't fun

synopsis: With long-time K-pop fans asking for another season of the infamous variety show We Got Married, MBC brings it back with a spin-off, We Became Roommates. As a way to bring K-pop fans together, the first season involves six idols born in 2005. With seeing each other every day, doing missions for every episode, making memories, and fans watching and shipping, blossoming friendships and a bubbling romance can't be helped. pairing: idol!jongseob x fem idol!reader genre: idol au, crack, fluff, humour, coworkers to friends to lovers

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likes and reblogs are appreciated ⋆˙⟡♡

taglist; open 📌: @yoizhrs @sunoostripletriple @seobluv @sirenla @chuuswifereal @rkivegirlsblog @tkooooop @forever-atiny @i03jae @bludzk1llzyuzu @downmainstreet @astro-doll-the-star @rinaforstars @ssweetreveries @finnbbl @keropiimp3 ~ (send an ask or comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊)

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E01 - L'âme perdue

i have some thoughts, but before we get to it and explore the episode, i just wanna point out that the writing is what stood out for me. after seasons of mediocre writers and writing on TWD, it felt like a breath of fresh air. that ain't saying much, but it's a big improvement. also the cinematography, plsss!!

i will digress, this will be long, boring and full of spec for s2!!! read more after the jump...

the best part of it for me was Daryl. Daryl is finally using his words, keeping some things close to the vest he ain't no longer wearing, but he is actually speaking up, telling shit how he sees it, being his observant self, and not taking that religious crap bullshit they trying to feed him. he is also done with it all, and his goal is always and will always be getting back home.

"You deserve a happy ending, too." the ep starts with Judith voiceover, which is repeated in Daryl's feverish dream, and once again by Laurent. Carol isn't mentioned directly, but you can feel her presence throughout the episode. it's sort of a quiet energy that hangs in there whenever Daryl mentions he wants to get back home, he needs to use the radio, he needs to get to that possibly active port. and of course, her smiling face in his dream, with one of the last things he said to her "it's not like we are never gonna see each other again."

"witchy shit;" "dead priest and creepy kid," "you've been fucking with me," while putting his finger in Isa's face and storming out to borrow some cool weapons will always be hilarious to me, but it also felt like genuine Daryl is back. this is the Daryl we fell in love with. he is changed by his experiences, but he is still the OBSERVANT dude with the sass and zero tolerance for bullshit. i like this Daryl, so i will thank Zabel and Norman for bringing him back to us!

NOW let's get to the spec: i think the first episode tells us all we need to know about what is really set to happen, it's so in your face, you may not even notice and just assume they are talking metaphorically - i'm talking about the nuns, the nest, the kid, the whole conspiracy you shouldn't see coming.

for some reason it will probably never be clear, they think Daryl is the one, the messenger to deliver the new Messiah, and he's got an important role delivering the kid to the Nest, like he is the only one who can do it. i mean Isabelle watched Daryl fight and lose, and now she thinks he's Messiah's protector. PLEASE, bitch! maybe he is chosen simply because he is American, he made it across the Ocean, he must be special??? ok, i'll buy that.

now when Mother is dying she agrees Daryl is the one (to protect Laurent) and says "reasons are everywhere." YES, there's a reason Daryl had to come back to protect the kid, there's a reason he doesn't get on that boat to return home, too - and that reason is CAROL is coming. he cannot leave, she's coming to him, and i believe that TOGETHER they are the ones supposed to save Laurent.

WHY Carol, you ask? Daryl just may be to close to the Nest, their people to see them for who they are - some sort of cult who believes "the kid is the cure for a sick world," Mother's words. but how are they dangerous??

they literally tell you, if you're listening. the monk, possibly Losang, says the kid is special, says the kid is the NEW Messiah. Isabelle tells Daryl they need to take the kid there cause he needs safety, teaching and nurturing UNTIL he is ready. ready for what, Daryl asks. ready to be the new Messiah and lead the REVIVAL of humanity.

now Laurent said they had walker!Father Jean there because they were waiting for him to rise again. say what, kiddo? but Father can't rise again, cause he ain't special, he ain't the new Messiah. so there you go, i think the Nest, they're planning to turn Laurent and wait for him to RISE again (be the cure) with help from praying and poetry. maybe the good guys ain't so good.

and this is exactly why the kid is also valuable to Genet. perhaps she also wants to test whether the kid is special or not, knowing his history.

i can see Carol making it to France and figuring out their nefarious plans in like the first 5 mins. and that's why she needs to come to help save Laurent. that would pretty much bring their story full circle, and allow them to deal with the guilt and the trauma of not being able to safe loved ones.

[mikuni14]

Phee and Tan sitting in a tree P-L-O-T-T-I-N-G 🥳

I already rewatched episodes 1-4 once, when it turned out that Phee knew Non, and I even joked that when it turns out that he was working with Tan (there were already theories that Tan was New), I would have to watch these episodes ONCE AGAIN 😄 Not that I'm complaining! I love this series and when I like a series, I love coming back to it. I was going to do it now, especially after episode 10, where the characters were behaving weirdly, but after reading @tbhimnoteasyonmyself fantastic post, I don't have to do it anymore (although I still plan to, maybe after the finale?) because everything is written there 😍

While watching Phee's telling his story to Jin, illustrated with his scenes with Tan and SCENES OF TAN HIMSELF, I kept thinking, wait a minute. What? This is his story, why is he telling shit about Tan, where's his version? Later someone pointed out, that so far, the series has shown events as they are. And yet, suddenly we have a story, and only from one POV. And this story surprisingly whitewashes Phee and makes Tan a monster.

There's a lot that can be said about Phee, but I never got the impression that he was a coward, that he would gossip about someone he was so close to, just like that, even with Non he wasn't a petty bitch. No matter how angry Phee was at Tan, his pretty much nasty behavior as a friend, exposing him to Jin and then the rest of the crew, was completely ooc. And who would he do it for? For them? His "friends"? Are we sure Phee considers them "friends"?

That's why I watched episode 10 again, and the second time it seemed even more strange and raised a lot of questions. Like that scene in the temple:

how easily Phee accuses Tan. He thinks that Tan created a whole complex and based on a series of random coincidences, yet effective plan to kill Por, he thinks that Tan killed Deng by stretching a wire in broad daylight when someone could have noticed him, he thinks that Tan planned another complicated, based on a series of random coincidences, and yet a super effective action with a scooter, luring Top to the temple, poisoning him, hypnotizing him and sending him home to kill people???

Phee talks the most about Tan, portraying him as the biggest threat, and then starts telling a tearful story, "you don't know what I did", "it's all my fault", "I was so terrible towards Non". What's interesting is that Phee doesn't cry in this scene (at least I don't see any tears, although the lighting isn't good), and as we know, Phee cries easily when he's in pain

what effect does Phee achieve? JIN CONFESSES

TA DA! 🥳🎉🏆

what is Phee's reaction to this - a sigh that sounds like a mix of relief and triumph. And disbelief.

another interesting fact: Phee reacts the same way as to Non's "betrayal", at first he seems unable to believe what he hears, then he starts to pace around furiously, trying to control himself. The only difference is that Jin, unlike Non, does not fuel his anger by staying quiet..

During this time, Tan:

tries to calm Tee down, he wants White to take his gun 🤔

interestingly, later he doesn't stop Fluke when he has a gun! 😏

When Phee and Jin show up at home:

Phee informs everyone that Tan is Non's brother and that he WANTS REVENGE

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH 🚨

Phee creates an atmosphere of threat, revenge that they deserve, and that it's about Non

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH 🚨🚨

and what's happening? Phee conveniently doesn't have to say more about Tan and Non, because right after that Fluke takes action, steals the gun, has hallucinations, and kills Top

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH, they just saw a murder, emotions are running high and they feel trapped 🚨🚨🚨

I watched Tan because I love him from that moment on, he is very pleased with the development of events, he is not angry with Phee at all, Phee also suddenly forgets that Tan was supposed to be the biggest monster and a threat

they both actually behave as if they were playing roles, they recite their lines like they're children in a school play, they play the good cop and the bad cop?

what is the effect of all this: TEE FINALLY STARTS TELLING THE TRUTH!!! 🥳🎉🏆

So I have to ask: How were Phee and Tan supposed to get information about Non after getting the boys high on the first night at the party, as Phee said to Jin? They were supposed to be having a great time and then suddenly Phee and Tan would start questioning them about Non and they would just... blurt out everything? 😆 When did Phee and Tan start getting information? NOW.

So, isn't it the case that Phee and Tan rightly guessed that only Tee could know what happened to Non, because the only one capable of making someone disappear is his uncle? There's a lot to be said about the other guys, but they probably don't have the ability, strength, or stomach to "disappear" a person. Probably not even Tee, but he may have something else: INFORMATION.

Did Phee betray Tan in this ep? I'm 99% sure not. They both watch calmly as the rest of the "friends" accuse each other. Phee pays special attention to Tan AND to Tee:

Isn't the most important thing for them (or for Tan especially) is discovering the truth that Tee knows, and the rest is just an accidental casualty of their war? Jin may be important to Phee, who might even want to protect him... but maybe not? Maybe Phee has a moral problem with all of this, but he doesn't feel morally better to stop Tan, seeing what all their "friends" started has led to, and even though he doesn't agree with him, he won't bother him?

(While watching episode 10 again, I also noticed this:

The shadow in the left corner was moving, it looked like there was someone else in the temple with Tan and Top. Non? Perth? Or maybe that woman Keng was working with?)

EDIT: so what I'm trying to say is that Phee and Tan could work together and manipulate others to obtain information about Non, regardless of the costs, and in Tan's case even enjoying the "costs". At least I would like it to be so 😉

Of course, I may see something that isn't there, want to see something more, have too high expectations of DFF. I'm pretty sure that's not the case, but like my dear friend @italianpersonwithashippersheart I've also seen too many good shows that screwed up the ending... But I still have hope 😚 DFF maintained a high standard for me throughout its 10 episodes. Even if they fuck up the ending, even if everything that surprised me in this episode turns out to be me cosplaying Fluke and seeing things that aren't there (and cosplaying Top, because I'm hypnotized by Tan), it's still 10 episodes of excellent content 💖

[dgaftilwedie]

SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF WAS FUCKING NUTS AND I WANNA BE ANNOYING N TALK ABT IT BC I LOVE SCOTT PILGRIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT OBVS XD

OKAY SO??? THE FACT THAT THEY LITERALLY SET UP THE FIRST EPISODE LIKE IT WAS GONNA BE JUST LIKE THE COMICS N THEN SCOTT "DIED"????? literally had me questioning fucking EVERYTHING i was watching that episode with the most quizzical look on my face?? also the fucking funeral scene was hysterical bc the way rammy n knives were abt to have a verbal face-off n envy's bitchass shows up n steals the whole show?? i have such a love-hate relationship with her.............

also lucas lee is fucking adorable and i love him :33 rammy becoming friends with roxie n making up with her after everything was something i really needed to see. cuz like for as much as i loved the movie n the comics, i feel like they could've done their relationship so much better. like seeing ramona take responsibility for hurting roxie made me so happy and im so glad they got a redemption arc.

ROXIE IS LITERALLY ME BTW??? her whole interaction with ramona n kim at the end kf the episodr was so silly N THE LEG LOCK HELLO????? also the way she walked off singing the HAMSTER DANXE SONG I LOCE HER

the toddlace thing was also so unexpected but holy shit?? i loved it. bi todd has been my fav headcanon for YEARSSSS and seeing jt happen right in front of my eyes?? WATCHING THAT EPISODE WAS SUCH A TRIP THO I CAN'T STOP QUOTING WALLACE'S "LINES? TRAILER?" BITS BC THEY'RE SO FUNNY

uhmmmmm what elseeeee OH YEAH young neil is a fucking goof n i love him, i really like that gideon (gordon ig 🙄) became like this not evil guy who just lived with julie n kicked it with lucas. the old scott stuff kinds fricked with me but i think it's cool that he became chill with the twins

LMFAOAO THAT SCENE AT THE END WHERE SCOTT'S TRTING TK FIGJRE OIT WHY HE CAN'T KISS RAMONA N HE TRIES TO FIGHT THE TWINS AND THEY'RE LIKE "our robot says we become bros in the future, so we have no intention of fighting you. see ya bro ;)" WAS SO SILLY

obligatory matt mention i love him he's so dumb i love that he took over gideon's entire empire only to turn around and change his mind :3 glad he got his broadway moment....... silly pirate headass

knives n stephen becoming the best brother/sister duo ever was so dope bc like. knives had someone to look up to n make music with n they had a lot of chemistry both personality wise n musically wise

my only critique is that i wanted more lisa ;^; i know she probably would've been out of place but it would've been cool if kim mentioned her to ramona and ramona interviewed her just like she did with her exes yknow :P she was one of my fav characters in the comics n she wasn't in the movie AT ALL so i was hoping she would've appeared in the anime, but alas 😞😞 i also kinda wanted to see where kim's love life went...... i know she's not the focus but she had undeniable chemistry with knives and that moment with roxie... i love that she's totally very queer and open to the idea of experimenting with girls n i wish that would've been expanded upon like how todd n wallace had their moment :33

other than that, i LOVED the anime. i love how we got baited into thinking it was just like the comics and i love what was done with it :3 it was such a goofy show and a lot of it was so jaw-droppingly surprising that i couldn't believe it, but it also had some really sweet, serious, n heart-warming moments which is something i really appreciate in a show :33 it's hard to keep watching something for so long but i binged the show in one day xD i'd give it a solid 9/10 (deducting points just for the sake of what i think was missing and how i don't recommend it for like "beginner" fans)

oki rant concluded!!!!!!! ^___^ there's so much more i wanna say but this is already sooooooo long as it is xD

[cbrownjc]

As an older fan, I’m starting to get some major Sherlock-vibes from the show, in the sense that fans are coming up with all these big-brained theories to explain weak writing that we have to have faith will come to fruition in some future season. Why make the change to Lestat saving Louis? Why is Louis seemingly stronger than Armand?  Why have the Loustat reunion, only for Louis to leave and challenge the entire vampire world (despite the fact that he’s apparently in a better place mentally-speaking)? Why publish under Daniel’s name, when that would clearly paint a target on his back, especially now that he’s a vampire? What’s going on with Daniel’s eyes?

The whole “spite” thing seems like a clear mis-direct, but with only like 8-ish episodes a season and Dubai-era Devil’s Minion being 100% subtext so far, I don’t think the writing team can do DM justice. All the inconsistencies seem like they’re being written off because it’s the unreliable narrator show, when they’re actually just plot holes.

Like…I 100% think the writing team forgot makers can’t telepathically talk to their fledglings, and that’s why they had to add in the throwaway line of Lestat actually whispering to Louis in 1x02. There was no hidden reason we were meant to find, it was just inconsistent internal logic justified because Louis can’t remember anything correctly.

IDK. I don’t want to be a downer, but a lot of my hype for the show just kinda fizzled out with the finale. I'm still gonna watch S3, but I think I'm just gonna wait til the whole thing comes out this time.

Hi!

So I never watched Sherlock nor was every in that fandom, though I did hear about some things after the fact. So I can't compare it to that fandom. But I can compare things to another book series that was being adapted fandom I was in which was Game of Thrones. And I think wrt things we are at least nowhere near that level of things and theorising. Yet.

Maybe because, unlike ASOIAF all the VC books are written and done. So that's a plus.

And see, the thing is? I can actually see a lot of methods to the madness of some of the things you've listed. Especially given the nature of how the story in the show is told through POVs. Where the issue comes into it is not ever knowing if what you are seeing is true, false, or just an interpretation of the truth -- as in Louis' POV of the play-trial rehearsal.

And I'd really like to know if how they ended this season is how they plan to end every season when a full book has been adapted? Something that wraps up the main character arc and story, but just leaves a host of other questions that, if we weren't getting a Season 3, would have never been answered. And who knows if they will all be answered in Season 3? As far as Devil's Minion goes, or Armand himself, I'm not expecting it to be now, given that Season 3 is The Vampire Lestat adaptation and Armand is a straight-up villain/antagonist in that book and Daniel doesn't appear in it at all, so anything we get with him will be extra anyway.

Now, as to whether Rolin Jones and the writers have a plan, Rolin says he pitched an 8-Season (or so) Arc to AMC before he was given the show to run. So at the moment? That is the only solid thing we have to go on right now wrt if there actually IS a play or not for the show.

But see (and oh boy, please forgive me as am I about to go into a big digression here), plotting a TV show is much harder to do than a book or a movie. TV writing is way more organic given that unforeseen circumstances can occur that you've never planned for when you go into a new season of TV production. Such as the studio asking you to split the first book you're adapting into 2 seasons instead of one, leaving you with only a month to rewrite the scripts. Or, a writer's strike and then an actors' strike a few weeks later, delaying production for months. Both of which happened to IWTV wrt Season 1 and then Season 2.

So organic things beyond the show's control are why it is much harder to plan out every little detail of a TV show in advance over multiple seasons. Take another AMC show, Breaking Bad. It's known that Season 2 of that show was intricately plotted out in advance but then, after that, the writers plotted and wrote the rest of the show as things came along for the remaining seasons, with no grand design to it -- even though the creator of the show, Vince Gilligan, knew way in advance how the show was going to end. And the show was able to get there, to that ending, without having a meticulous plan over seasons on how to do so.

I mean, the character of Jesse on Breaking Bad was originally supposed to die at the end of the first season. But instead, he lived through the whole damn thing. That was not planned at all.

And I think that might very well be the situation we have going here wrt IWTV. I think there are larger things they already know in advance about the show -- which books out of all of them will adapted into full stories vs which will only get references. Which characters in the show will make it into the show as full characters vs which characters will either be cut or combined with other existing characters (as Sam Ried revealed in his interview with Autumn Brown that that is going to happen -- that some characters will be combined with others). And what end point they want each of the main four characters -- Louis, Lestat, Armadn, and Daniel -- to be at when they get to at least Season 8. (If not Season 10, which is what AMC wants, 10 seasons). I think those are things Rolin and the writers very much know.

But I don't think the show has every single little detail plotted out for every little thing wrt how they are going to get to certain things. Not super far in advance at any rate.

I do think they'll purposefully put in seeds for later -- that they very much know they are going to need later -- though I think at most they do it one season ahead if it's a little thing. I very much do think that is what the things from episodes 1x02 and 1x03 very much were, since Season 1 and 2 were supposed to just be one season originally. Or the fight in 1x05 only being shown from Claudia's POV. I think that was also deliberate and they are very much planning on visiting it once again in Season 3, as they did in Season 2.

But I also think there are some things the show has not plotted way in advance and only figured out when they are writing that particular episode. Or maybe just decided to do that season as they were writing it, and not before then. Just like how almost every other TV show works, even ones that might very well know the ending they are working toward.

So I in no way think the show has figured and plotted out every single moment and beat of Armand and Daniel's relationship. Why? Not only because much of it happened in the past -- which yes I very much still think it did -- which covers 12 years of time, but because if you look at this clip, Rolin Jones kind of hints that they haven't plotted it out completely point for point even though there are some things they've thought and figured out:

video credit: Rei Gorrei on Twitter

So as far as Devil's Minion goes, I think Rolin and Co -- mostly Rolin -- has an endpoint for it in mind. But how they get to that endpoint is probably not planned out to the letter, super far in advance. And something they very likely just come up with as they are writing that particular season. At most? I'd say they've put things in this season that will be relevant next season and that's it.

So, I'm not going to say they can't do it justice. Not yet. I frankly don't have enough data to call that in a yes or no fashion since we haven't seen anything adapted from it aside from the 3-4 days Daniel spent in a cage, which is just the very start of how Devil's Minion begins. Basically one or two paragraphs. That's all they've really adapted when it comes to it at the moment.

And hey, it's okay if you feel down about all of this. If it helps, I'd say try and take a pragmatic approach to the show season by season, and if you feel it's better to binge it than watch it episode by episode for a time, that's good too. This is going to be a long journey after all.

[sigruned]

Trying and failing to be normal about it but listen, as hard as last episode was to watch I am convinced that drinking that tea was the best thing that could have happened to Ruby after everything.

This is true for the sole reason that Ruby coming to terms with who she wants to be before anyone can move on isn't just necessary in the abstract character development sense, but also the primary throughline of the volume cannot resolve without it. By it's nature, the Ever After physically cannot let them leave until she does.

The Ever After mechanically operates by what we would recognize as narrative logic and has a demonstrated empathy with those who are present within it. The physicality of the space is defined and altered by that empathy as we've seen on many occasions now (the rain when Ruby gets sad, the entire nature of the punderstorm. The acres exist as they do to facilitate the afterans' purposes, not the other way around). That said it doesn't have a will of it's own, it's a passive. The plasticity of the environment is prompted by the feelings and desires of those who inhabit it, and the world reacts in turn. It looks like nonsense coming from the "real" world but makes perfect sense once you establish this as a fundamental rule of reality here.

We still don't have a reliable source of information the claim that the tree is how the team gets back to Remnant and a lot of different perspectives on what it really is. From the fairy tale it is the way home, for the afterans it is rebirth. According to Jaune it's death (which says more about him than the tree but I'll get to that in a bit). None of them are completely wrong, I think.

The first time we see anyone 'interact' with the tree is in the herbalist hut with the smoke. I don't think this was just some shadow self vision. We see that the smoke is made from the tree's leaves. Drinking the tea swallowed Ruby up the same way the Herbalist was at the end of this scene. So we have an established pattern here of what returning to the tree looks like, and how ingesting the leaves call out to it, for lack of a better phrase. The important part of this here is the stark difference in how wby interact with the tree, via the images of their past selves, as opposed to Ruby. I'm not going to harp on it too much because better meta than mine circulated when the episode aired, but we're shown how the losses from the previous volumes have ultimately helped to galvanize wby rather than weaken their sense of identity. They don't presently need to initiate a full deconstruction of themselves to find what they want or who they want to be: they don't need the tree and therefore will not be able to find it.

This is in contrast with Jaune's stagnation while in the Ever After, but is ultimately to the same effect. He's spent decades cementing his identity in his guilt. The tree is death because he can't conceive of being himself without that guilt. (We see this exact same concept with Ruby's first visit to the blacksmith. "I'm fine, I can handle it." She's not happy with this, but the tree cannot help her change until she wants to change herself. "If you change your mind...") Until he's able to crack this image of himself, there is no desire for change and thus he couldn't find the tree even if he wanted to.

Between them all, they lack a desire or need for substantial change to their sense of self, and do not have the ability to make it to the tree until they do. Despite her internal turmoil, the narrative has positioned Ruby as the only one who can lead them all to the tree and ergo out of the Ever After, because the Ever After itself has made this journey one and the same with her journey of self discovery.

"The tree isn't a place you go, it's a place you know."

All of this to say that the tree facilitates change, whatever that may mean to those who find themselves there. Deconstruction can be painful, it means stripping away things you thought were key structural components of yourself (Penny's sword, the emblem, maybe even the cloak ???) to find what's left. I am certainly not arguing that Ruby is in a good place right now, but on its face, not wanting to be me anymore is a statement desiring change, not erasure. And change requires destruction and creation both.

So, narratively, Ruby is being deconstructed, broken down to her core elements (a phase of the process we'll probably see conclude next episode because she still hasn't acknowledged Summer in the mirror-). It's hurt, it's not always come from a healthy place, Neo's torture circus certainly pushed the issue, but it is happening. So what is 'Ruby Rose' when you look at what's left?

I don't know but I'm excited to find out.

Ruby doesn't have to answer that question by the end of this volume, nor do I think she will, but what I do think will satisfy the Ever After's "requirement" before it can let them leave is a desire to answer that question. We're seeing the story of "a girl with a lot of problems" in this volume. When the Ever After no longer has a role in that story, literally, it will physically manifest whatever it needs to progress that story.

Like, say, a door back to Remnant. It's that simple.

[ironspiderfics]

tick tock

by @iron--spider for @savvysass

~

And Peter stares at him, watching the panic seep into his shoulders.

 “Why did you come to me first?” Ned stammers. “Me, I mean, I can’t do anything—I mean, I can say it sucks, and that doesn’t help—”

 Peter leans back against Ned’s pillows, clearing his throat. He’s going for nonchalance. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. 

 But sometimes there’s something that’s nagging at him and he knows logically it’s nagging at him because it’s important, but he downplays that nag because he thinks he’s being paranoid or he thinks he can handle it. Maybe it’s both of those things at the same time. 

 But he mentioned his problem anyway, because of course he did, and Ned has been standing frozen in front of him since, like he got struck by lightning.

 “It’s fine,” Peter says, his voice going a little high, but not enough to give him away. He clears his throat again. Nonchalance. “Do you have any of the tamales still?”

 Ned’s brows furrow, like he’s primed and ready for an argument. “You are the only—the only person in the known universe who climbs through my bedroom window and tells me he’s been poisoned and then says it’s fine and asks for tamales.”

 “You know I like them so much,” Peter says, shrugging at him. “That’s why we got so many, and I already ate the ones I had stashed—”

 “Peter!” Ned yells, drawing out the word like a wiggling worm. “Poisoned?”

 “It’s fine,” Peter shrugs again, and he swallows hard, and he mostly believes that. His head hurts, but that’s normal after a fight. Rattling his brain around.

 It’s all normal. It’s fine. 

 The room isn’t shimmering at the corners. No way.

 “Peter.”

 He keys back in. “That guy…is a weirdo,” Peter laughs, and Ned takes two steps closer to him, still poised, eyes still wide under a stern, furrowed brow. 

 He analyzes him, like he’s looking for something Peter’s hiding. “All of the dudes you fight are?” he says. Asks. It’s a statement phrased like a question. “Which one was it? You could be referring to any of them?”

 “The guy who thinks he’s a snake,” Peter says. He winces. “No. A scorpion.”

 “Worse,” Ned says. “And what exactly did he say? Did you know you’re bleeding?” He’s getting worked up, and his cheek spasms a little bit. “You’re trying to be too casual I don’t trust you right now you’re doing that thing where you’re under—you’re under—I’m gonna tell Tony I’m gonna tell May and MJ—”

 “Ned!” Peter yells, scrambling off the bed and reaching him before he grabs his phone from the desk. He holds onto his arms, and Ned is still looking at him like he’s grown another head. “It’s fine. I swear. I was just…telling you…the events, I was close to your house and I thought I’d tell you the events of my, uh, night, my patrol—how was your night, did you get to that episode of Survivor where—”

 “What exactly did this guy say to you?” Ned asks, slowly. “Like, in words. His words.”

 Peter swallows hard. “Well, uh, we were fighting, and he—he ‘poisoned’ me, right?” He uses air quotes.

 Ned glares at him.

 “And he said we were gonna play a game—”

 “Bad—”

 “And he said, uh, if I couldn’t find the antidote in three days that I’d, uh. Die.”

 Die. DIE. It lands like an anvil.

 Ned gives him a piercing look.

 “That’s everything he said? Those were the words—that’s it? No clues no map no—three days—three days is nothing—that’s not—that’s not even four days—when does it start does it start at like midnight or the second you—”

 Peter clears his throat again. He needs to refocus. 

 He feels like the walls are moving—no. Not happening. He’s fine.

 He shakes his head. He wishes he hadn’t mentioned it at all, but here he is. “Ned, that—I mean, this is normal.”

 Ned scoffs. “Norm—”

 “This is just something that happens. Spider-Man gig. He’s—this is part of the rapport.”

 “Rappo—Peter what if you start dying? What if you can’t find him? What if you find him and he won’t give you the antidote? What then? What if there is no antidote? There isn’t enough time—”

 “There’s probably not even a poison,” Peter says, shrugging again. Brushing it off. Being normal. Managing the situation.

 Ned pauses for a second. Then his eyes bulge. “Probably?”

 Peter gets this shit all the time. Every day, it’s some guy in a weirdo costume telling him they’re gonna kill him or he’s gonna drown tomorrow at noon or they’re gonna take his powers away or they’re gonna launch him into the sun, and none of those things have ever happened. And this guy, this Scorpion has threatened to poison him dozens of times—it’s his deal, it’s his thing, since he showed up a few months after the world ended, and he’s never good at it. He said he was gonna poison Harlem’s water supply and that didn’t happen, despite days of monitoring. He said he’d poisoned the mayor’s family and that they’d die in five days and they’re currently vacationing in Kokomo. He’s even said he’d poisoned Peter before and that his skin was gonna fall off and that never happened. 

 Tony has always told him to take threats seriously from everyone that threatens him, even if they sound stupid. But when it winds up being a lie or a fluke, over and over—

 The only thing that’s worrying him is that this guy did get him with his stupid stinger this time. 

 He had a better costume, one that didn’t look like it came from the November discount at Spirit Halloween. And it was a knockdown dragout fight, because he was threatening to poison this bank manager to steal his codes, blah blah, bad guy shit, but then he got Peter in the shoulder with his stinger and he seemed surprised that he got him and that’s when he said what he said and he did what he does best: disappear. Peter can usually find these guys, and he actually got a few of them and their gangs locked up. But this asshole falls off the grid really easily, and doesn’t leave much behind. Peter doesn’t even know his real name.

 And Peter’s shoulder is pulsing. But only a little bit.

 So he’s just—he’s not concerned. Maybe slightly. But not really.

 He’s just got a headache. He feels fine.

 He’s fine.

 He manages to convince Ned that he doesn’t need to tell anybody, and they bandage up the things that need bandaging, including the spot where Scorpion got him, which is only a little green and angry, not nearly as bad as Peter was imagining. Ned huffs and puffs at it, but he doesn’t try to restart the argument. And then they share tamales and Peter goes home.

 “You okay?” May asks him, when he kisses her cheek before bed.

 “Yep,” Peter says, smiling, and nodding at her, because he is. 

 He feels fine. He texted MJ that he was fine, even though that seemed to make her suspicious, but she’s always suspicious of him even though they’re together now. She’s paranoid.

 The ceiling is absolutely not slowly lowering. It’s just the light being weird that’s it nothing more than that—

 May gives him a look, similar to the look Ned gave him earlier. “You sure?” she pushes. “Look a little…peaky.”

 He shakes his head. 

 Only a little dizzy. 

 Three days…

 “I’m fine. I just had seven tamales. I’m fine.”

 ~

 “Boss,” Friday says, pulling Tony out of a dream. “You have an incoming call from Ned Leeds.”

 Tony groans, and opens his eyes. 

 It’s Saturday. 

 Ten in the morning.

 He glances to the side. Pepper is already gone, and he’s gotta check the calendar for the where-to, and he clears his throat and rubs his eyes.

 A call from Ned usually means trouble.

 He closes his eyes, and grapples for his earpiece on the bedside table, and Friday indicates for his heart rate with a polite little trill. He ignores it, and tries not to jump to conclusions about Peter or the call, and he taps on the earpiece and answers.

 “—no, it’s okay. No, I don’t need anymore, Lola, I’m full—”

 “Nedjamin?” 

 “Mr. Stark?” Ned nearly yells. “Is that you?”

 “Well, this is my number,” Tony says, rubbing his face. “As you know, or you wouldn’t be calling—”

 “Sorry, I—I’m always shocked that you actually answer. Like even your personal lines must have somebody to like screen calls for you—”

 “You’re on the list,” Tony says, and he can hear Ned’s little gasp—the same little gasp he always gasps when Tony says that. “What’s the problem, where’s the fire? What’s Pete done now?”

 “Listen,” Ned says, and suddenly he’s whispering. “I don’t know when to take him seriously. But last night he showed up here and he was being all nonchalant and shifty about some scorpion bad guy poisoning him and telling him they were playing a game and that he had three days to find the antidote or he’d die.”

 Tony’s eyes snap open.

 “He was just saying it was fine and he was probably not even poisoned and like he was a little beat up but not more than normal, you know, his normal amount of—either way, he’s not taking it seriously and he’s not telling you and three days is not a lot of time—like, it’s not even four days—”

 “Mmkay,” Tony says, sitting up, feeling like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. “Okay. I’m gonna go get him. I’m gonna handle it.” He stands up, knees creaking, and worry is already coursing through his veins.

 “He’s gonna be mad at me for telling you but it’s for his own good,” Ned says. “Three days is not a lot of time, like—to handle something like this—even if it’s fake I mean—”

 “Even if it’s fake, you did the right thing,” Tony says, grabbing a gray shirt and some sweatpants. “Always better to check it out.” He sucks in a big breath, trying to focus. “Friday. Get me a lead on Peter.”

 ~

 And it’s never Tony’s favorite, when Peter isn’t where he’s supposed to be. 

 And Tony can’t exactly say the kid is supposed to be somewhere in particular—it’s the summer time, he’s been dealt a raw hand with all the end of the world bullshit, and he’s a good kid despite Spider-Man —and not that Spider-Man makes him bad, exactly the opposite, but it…sends waves of danger into his life on a daily basis that Tony wishes he could wash away a lot better than he does. 

 So when Tony can’t find Peter at home, he tries not to—go off the deep end. 

 It’s probably fine. Peter’s had a lot of close calls that weren’t close calls at all—the type of dickheads he encounters lie a lot, to try and puff themselves up, but Tony worries that’s made the kid complacent. He himself brushes things off far too often, and he’ll wind up kidnapped or thrown in a ditch or lost on an island because he didn’t take something seriously.

 Three days

 When did that timeclock start

 Ned was right to be concerned—

 “It’s fine,” he breathes, driving around in New York’s torture tactic they call traffic, “it’s fine—it’s fine—”

 He thinks of a ticking clock, thinks of three days and how that’s not a lot of time and how many times Ned repeated that, thinks that this guy could very easily be telling the truth and it could be a slow-acting poison that doesn’t even kill Pete until the last possible second, and it’s not even a week, it’s three days, and it’s less than that now because Peter decided not to call him immediately, decided to terrorize Ned instead, and tick tock, goes the clock, and Tony hasn’t even seen him yet—

 “Friday,” Tony says, his voice strung-out with anxiety, “are you—”

 “Boss, I was about to cut in,” Friday says, “Spider-Man is three blocks away in an apartment that does not belong to him. He broke in and he is in distress.”

 Tony sucks in a breath, his eye twitching. “An apartment—dist—am I going in the right direction—”

 “Yes,” Friday says, sounding too goddamn calm, even for an AI, and she trills again, for his heart rate. “I will let you know where to park.”

 ~

 Tony is incapable of relaxing. It isn’t the time to relax. Nobody’s telling him to but he always feels like people are telling him to, he’s heard it so many times in his life.

 The only saving grace in this situation is that the goddamn owner of the apartment isn’t home, and Peter is too savvy to let the alarm go off to alert anybody, and Tony doesn’t know why the hell he’s here why here why now does he know these people did something happen here and of course he doesn’t know why he hasn’t seen him he hasn’t gotten to talk to him yet—

 And he can picture it now—SPIDER-MAN CHOOSES A LIFE OF CRIME, MORE AT 11—

 “Kid,” Tony breathes, and he tries not to touch anything as he slinks inside the open door like an accomplice to a robbery, “kid—”

 “TONY!” 

 Peter screams his name, booming and loud, louder than he’s ever sounded before. And Tony hears him before he sees him, and he staggers back and shuts the door when he hits it, and he clutches at his chest and Friday trills twice for his heart rate, a little more urgently.

 And Peter is standing there in the middle of this plush, eggshell-white Central Park view.

 And he doesn’t look good.

 He’s pale as a sheet, his eyes bloodshot, and it looks like there’s throw-up on the front of his suit. His hair’s a mess, and his breathing is hard and wheezy.

 “Don’t move,” Peter says. “Just stay right there. Stay on—on that spot right there that spot is uncompromised.”

 Tony stares at him. “Uncomp—Pete, we gotta go, we can’t—we don’t know this apartment, we weren’t invited here.”

 “How do you know?” Peter asks, looking at him incredulously.

 “Well, were you?” Tony asks, mouth agape, feeling like the stupidest person in the world.

 “This place was pulsing,” Peter says, too fast, all manic. “It was ready for liftoff, okay? That’s why I’m here but now there’s a problem. There’s a problem with the floor and it burned me three times. They say fool you once, uh fool you twice but three times, so… the whole apartment is a problem. The whole thing, I could see it from the outside and it might have fallen so…I had to go up. Here. Up here.”

 This isn’t good. This isn’t good. Tony stares at him and he can feel the very very not good hanging all over the room in tendrils. “Kid, you’re not making any sense at all, okay? Can you—can you just…slow down a little bit and—”

 “It’s too windy,” Peter says, shaking his head. He looks at him, sort of—looks through him, and then he focuses on him again. “Okay. Break. Team, uh—Tony. We can’t fix it now. We just need to abort, okay, just—spider, uh—spiderweb on out of here—you need to—listen, we can jump off the roof. That might be the right—the right, uh—”

 “Okay,” Tony says, more concerned with every new word that leaves his mouth. “Okay, Pete, I’m gonna come over there—”

 “No no no don’t move!” Peter yells, his hands outstretched in Tony’s direction. 

 “What?” Tony shouts, his heart slamming in his ears. “Peter.” 

 Peter stares down at Tony’s feet. “It’s gonna get you. It’s going to—it’s gonna start eating you like it’s been eating me.”

 And Tony knew, when Peter started talking, but in that moment he really knows, like a ding ding ding game show buzzer. It sinks in his gut.

 This is the poison’s fault. 

 And he’s stupid he’s so stupid, and suddenly it’s blindingly real and not at all a false alarm, it’s the ticking time clock in his head that he’d been tamping down on the way over here. It’s ticking, sand is running down, and it’s a race now. 

 A race to save him. 

 Too short. Not even a race. A fucking thousand yard hurdle.

 Will he really die if they can’t—can Tony figure this out on his own—who the hell does he have to call who should he get—they’ve never been able to track down this scorpion asshole before and why is this gonna be any different—

 He’s wasting time—

 Focus, for him—

 “Pete—”

 “It’s like acid like a river of acid it’s everywhere,” Peter says. “You’re gonna. Just. We have to like, leapfrog—maybe I can carry you on my back—”

 “Look, it’s gone,” Tony says, gesturing to the ground. “Not there, gone. Just floor.”

 Peter narrows his eyes. “No, it’s still there—Tony Tony Tony—”

 And he’s freaking out because Tony is walking towards him now, through—whatever LSD trip awfulness he’s imagining, and he’s gasping and gripping his hair and he reaches out and tugs him towards him when he’s close enough.

 “Okay, I don’t know how you did that,” Peter says, and his eyes are wild and a little glazed. “Did it get you? It’s green. It got me, it’s some sort of—acid, acid—you’re not even in the suit, you’re—”

 “Pete,” Tony says again, getting more desperate—and he holds Peter by the shoulders—

 “My legs are burning, this stuff, this is stuff—it’s everywhere—are you okay?” Peter asks, breathing hard. “It—you walked right through it—we’re in trouble, we’re—”

 “You’re hallucinating,” Tony says, trying to hold his gaze. “You got poisoned, and you tried to brush it off, and it’s here to kick your ass.” Too harsh, but it’s out already. 

 He doesn’t mention anything about three days. He doesn’t mention anything about death.

 Peter’s eyes cut to the side. “No, it’s, uh—it’s real. The apartment was—and now there’s—green acid, like an entire—like it’s an ocean of green acid in here and probably outside too and it’s consuming—and it’s in here it’s like—when water comes in during a hurricane—not that I’ve ever been in—but May had that one unlucky vacation in Florida—”

 “Listen,” Tony says, because he can hear the tick tock in his head. He has to get him to focus. “Listen, do you trust me? Pete, can you—”

 Peter stares at him. “I think the green acid ate Ned,” he whispers, tearing up.

 Tony heaves a sigh. Tick tock. “Buddy, close your eyes, and hold my hand, okay? Hold my hand, hold onto my shoulder with your other hand, and close your eyes. I have a way out.”

 Peter’s eyes only go wider. “You have a way out but I can’t see it?” he whispers.

 “That’s right,” Tony says, swallowing hard. “Just…trust me, okay, just—let’s go, we gotta get out of here.”

 Peter stares at him for what feels like an age, and tick tock tick tock, and then he grabs Tony’s hand and latches onto his shoulder and closes his eyes. 

 “Okay,” Tony says, squeezing his hand a couple times as he maneuvers towards the front door. “Okay, we are—skimming over the, uh, the surface—we are walking on water—”

 “Acid—”

 “Acid, but it’s fine—”

 ~

 He has Peter keep his eyes closed until they’re out of the building, and his heart is hammering in his ears. 

 Friday trills. Tony ignores. 

 Peter isn’t wearing his mask and he’s got the rest of the suit on and there are people around and goddamnit. Tony holds onto him and ushers him into the car and hopes he isn’t drawing too much attention.

 Peter sits like he’s frozen solid, and Tony runs red lights.

 Tick. Tock. 

 Peter grits his teeth. He’s antsy. “Are you not concerned about the roof being gone?” he asks, his voice wavering. “Because those things are…they’re all over the car, the things with the antenna and the beady eyes and the little stingers—”

 “Peter,” Tony says, swerving around a slow driver in front of him, “I don’t know whether to play into this and pretend but I guess—I’m—kid, you have been poisoned by that dickhead, that scorpion guy. He poisoned you, and he—he put—” a time limit on it and you’re gonna die if I don’t fucking find his ass or synthesize a cure—

 And you didn’t tell me you should have told me but I’m not gonna give you shit for it right now while you’re actively dying—

 “Who?” Peter nearly yells, and he reaches up and bangs on the roof. “Tony, Tony, it’s phasing in and out now—does that mean—are we gonna quantum leap—like that show—”

 “Pete, it’s not,” Tony says, reaching over and grabbing his arm and trying to keep his eye on the road. “None of these things are happening that you think—Peter—”

 “I think there’s one on your—far shoulder,” Peter says, holding onto Tony’s arm. “A big one, he looks—he’s got plans, Tony—”

 Tony has to pull to a stop at the next red light, and he sighs and holds onto Peter’s arm. “Kid, can you hear me? Can the logical part of your brain break through the fog and hear what I’m saying?” His voice wavers with the worry that’s trying to rise to the surface. 

 Peter just holds onto his arm and stares at him. His eyes are bulging out of his head and he’s clinging onto Tony’s arm like it’s his last lifetime. There’s sweat gathering on his forehead and in his hair and he looks like he’s getting paler.

 Somebody honks behind them and Tony sighs, putting on the gas, still holding onto Peter’s arm. 

 “Tony,” Peter breathes. “I think one of them just climbed inside your ear.”

 ~

 Tony puts on an actual timeclock when they get back to the new facility, and he calls Ned to get the right timing on it. Currently, he’s got two days, five hours, and fifty-three minutes.

 “What is it?” May asks, over Tony’s shoulder. “Do you know what it is yet?”

 Tony shakes his head. He’s still going over Peter’s bloodwork, and Helen is doing the same in her lab. He can see the tests she’s running on the screen, and they’re both cross-referencing with every known poison and every run-in any of them have had with something like this. It isn’t often that Tony gets poisoned, with his suit of choice. He wishes Peter would wear the goddamn iron spider more often. 

 He wishes he could keep this shit from ever happening in the first place, to any of his team and his friends but to Peter especially, but what is he gonna do? He can’t swing around in a steel box, or in a bubble, like that movie—

 Tony rests his elbows on the table and rubs his eyes. He feels that pressure all over him, like he always does when Peter is in danger, but this one is different. He doesn’t think he’s been—on a time clock, with Peter’s death at the end of it.

 Peter’s death, last breath, eyes going glassy—

 No, no—

 It sends chills down the back of Tony’s neck, it makes him feel like he’s gonna throw up—

 Tick tock—

 It was bad enough the first time and that wasn’t even a proper death—this would be, this could be bloody and gasping and—

 “How’s he doing?” Tony asks, spinning his chair around and looking at May. He tries to keep the horrors out of his eyes.

 “Um, not great,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “It seems to be just—getting worse. He still thinks there’s water rising in the room and that he’s trapped and he still thinks the ‘acid’ earlier burned up his legs, but you know that—”

 “Nothing there,” Tony says, clawing at his own throat a little bit, anxiety choking him. 

 He cracks his jaw and blows out a breath and glances up into Peter’s room. The kid is still pacing, and he’s in there with MJ and Ned, talking close to their faces, all wild-eyed and gesturing, pulling his IV pole around. He already sweat through his shirt and he’s hardly retaining any fluids. None of the trial antidotes they’ve got lying around have worked. None of the preventative measures have prevented shit. Peter’s been rambling about someone having cloned the Avengers years ago, and how the floor keeps rumbling because there’s going to be an earthquake in the building. He keeps lifting MJ up and putting her on the bed because he thinks there’s a monitor lizard trying to eat her. 

 And the original wound on his shoulder is full of pus and bruised, black in some spots. They’re trying to treat that too, even though Peter barely recognizes Helen and her team when they come into his room. He always squares up, like he needs to fight them.

 “This isn’t a fair game,” May says, with venom, watching Peter. She wipes her eyes and looks at Tony again, like it’s too hard to keep focusing on the problem. “But I guess we can’t expect fairness from people who want to…hurt others.”

 “I’m gonna fix it,” Tony croaks, because he’s getting teary-eyed now, too, and he turns around and faces the computer and sets up the new ingredient trials. He’s still got a bunch he needs to test, it’s fine, they’re out there looking for this asshole in teams, it’s fine, he wishes he was out there looking too and that’s not fine, and if Peter was right about the clones Tony would leave his clone here and he’d be out there searching and they’d swap—

 “I’m gonna fix it,” he says again, eyes cutting over to the time clock.

 It’s not enough time it’s not enough time it’s not it’s—

 ~

 Peter is—

 The world floats and—

 Of course it floats, and no, it’s not floating, it’s gravity, stupid, and—

 He’s walking down the hallway one minute MINUTE HEY LISTEN YOU’RE and he’s dragging something along with him one minute and HE SAID THREE DAYS STOP LETTING IT TAKE and then the next his arm is bloody and he leans against the wall and he falls into the next room because there are no more walls and—

 He braces his hand on the tile and the tile crunches into wet sand and his hand presses into it an imprint hand and footprint Hollywood Humphrey Bogart and Ben saying he had big hands for a tiny guy huh

 And then there’s the monitor lizard again. Hissing and rampaging towards him.

 “Stop,” Peter says, pointing at him. “She’s not here she’s—”

 Then he’s in bed again. And there’s Tony. And there’s a big fire flames in the corner licking at the wallpaper and it's hot on Peter’s face and trying to singe Tony’s hair. It’s so hot it’s blue. It’s so hot it’s burning Peter’s eyes out of his head.

 “This is the third time,” Tony says, and his voice is echoes, inside one of those water tubes, water spouts? Itsy bitsy spider? “No more getting up and roaming the halls, Pete, please, okay? Jesus, and stop taking out your—”

 The fire gets really big before Peter can even say anything about it and it explodes in a big fireball and tries to consume the entire room, and Peter grabs Tony and tries to cover his head and hide his own face at the same time and—

 “Buddy, buddy, relax, relax—”

 But Peter can barely hear him above the explosions and it’s hot it’s burning it’s all over—

 He groans, screwing his eyes shut, and how’s he supposed to fight fire? “It’s burning it’s—we have to get out we have to—”

 “Nothing’s burning, it’s in your head, it’s in your head,” Tony says, and he’s ruffling Peter’s hair, a gentle feeling amongst all this big and bad and fire, and he’s squeezing Peter’s shoulder and then water—water is trickling out of the walls. Peter can see it over Tony’s shoulder. 

 “It’s in your head, okay?” Tony says, softly, and when he pulls back he phases a bit. In and out. On top of himself like a copy. Like a bad copy like when Peter used the copier at May’s work for his NYC transit project and it spit it out all inky and Peter covers his eyes with his hand. 

 “We can’t stop it,” he breathes, breathes, is he breathing still—

 “Lemme try this one,” Tony says, and he’s still gentle, voice calm waves. “This should help, okay? We’re trying the natural steroid with the anti-toxin—it should—it should work—if the tests—if I know anything at all—”

 And the room changes again.

 Tony isn’t there and the room is smaller, the walls are trying to. Trash compactor. Rectangular and square and there are windows and they move and they morph and he can see the green acid is still outside and it’s rising out there, and that means people are dying, that means—it burned Peter and he’s—he’s who he is, with them they’d be burning—burning alive—

 “It should have worked,” Tony’s voice, but he’s not in here. Is he in the walls? Are they squashing him? “It should have, goddamnit—”

 “It’s close, everything improved there for about twenty—”

 “He was practically catatonic and now he’s worse again—has Sam updated you yet, Helen, because I think he’s afraid to tell me he hasn’t found anything—I gotta fucking get out there—Happy’s out there driving around and Pepper is too and I’m fucking useless—”

 “TICK TOCK,” a voice says.

 A bad voice. Sounds like a stereotypical New Jersey background actor but this one Peter knows, and then he spins around on the spot and all the windows go and then the room shrinks and it shrinks fast fast fast fast too fast a not-fun funhouse and he can’t even try to stop it and he throws his arms out but the walls crush him into something small—

 “FUN GAME, HUH, SPIDER? CLOCK IS TICKING DOWN. THEN I WIN.”

 Peter is running—

 —but there’s nothing, there’s nothing it’s blackness and echoes and nothing anywhere, except when he steps on something it zaps him, like a taser, and it makes him tremble and his face sags and the aftershocks run through him and he feels off course, and he tries to run in the opposite direction but what’s the opposite direction in a void and he’s zapped again, and he tries to go—a couple steps back and—it’s so dark he can’t see and when he tries to yell nothing comes out, nothing, and he grabs at his own throat and tries to pull his voice out and—

 A full body zap and he collapses, seizing—

 In the room again.

 In the bed.

 Handcuffed, to the bed. Soft straps, around his wrists and his ankles, connecting to the bars of the bed.

 “How the hell did he even get in that room?”

 “God, I don’t know—how does he get anywhere—”

 Tony and May are on either side of him, and the acid is in the room again. They’re sitting on the bed so they’re out of the way of it but it’s rising, and Peter swallows hard, peering down at it.

 “I can get out of these,” Peter says, and he tries to concentrate and break them, and it’s usually so easy, it’s usually very easy, and he breathes hard, watching the acid break and splash against the wall. It eats away at it. “Tony, May, why would you—”

 “You keep getting up and hurting yourself,” May says, and she sniffles, and she—her face is in darkness. He can’t see her face. “You don’t have much time and you keep—”

 “May—”

 Tony’s voice, but he can’t see his face either, they’re both, they’re—their faces, they don’t have faces they don’t have faces no eyes nose mouth nothing nothing—

 He closes his eyes and keeps rattling the handcuffs. Why aren’t they breaking? Why aren’t they?

 “You’re weak right now,” Tony says, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut because he can’t—he can’t look he can’t—

 ~

 “We didn’t wanna do it, Peter,” Tony says, feeling shame, watching him thrash around. 

 And if this was normal, he’d try to convince him to stay still, to stop getting up and breaking into storage rooms and labs and they’d take them off, but he’s—he’s barely in there. Barely lodged in his own head. The hallucinations are too strong and they barely have a day left. They haven’t found Scorpion and they haven’t figured it out themselves—

 And is Peter going to die like this? Wasting away, handcuffed to the medbay bed by two of the people who love him most?

 He’ll uncuff him if he’s dying and what kind of thing is that to fucking say what kind of thing is that to even think to even fathom—

 A wave of horror goes through Tony’s entire body and he reaches for the right cuff—

 “Tony, he’ll be out in five seconds flat,” May says.

 “Not if we’re in here—”

 “We were in here before and he got past us—”

 “Please, Tony,” Peter says, and he’s still trying to break them, and he just might, if he keeps trying. Not all of his strength is gone. Not yet. 

 Peter’s eyes are teary and pleading, and he looks so pale, so tired. “Please, the acid is—it’s rising and if I’m cuffed here I’ll—you guys can get out but if you leave me cuffed here it’ll—it’ll burn it’ll kill me—”

 Tony feels insane. He can’t take this. He leans forward, holding Peter’s shoulder with one hand and cupping his face with the other. “Listen,” he says, and Peter is looking at him, but that hasn’t meant much, since this started. “Listen. There’s no acid. You’ve been poisoned, and you’re dying, Pete, you’re dying. We’re trying to help but we—we…” His voice gets caught again and he shakes his head, but Peter is still looking at him. 

 He doesn’t wanna say that out loud he doesn’t want to acknowledge it because it can’t be true it can’t—

 “It was Scorpion,” May says, and she’s rubbing Peter’s left arm up and down. “If you know, anywhere inside you, baby, if you know where he might be—anything, any possibility—”

 “May, you gotta let me go,” Peter says, and he shakes them both off, thrashing harder. “The acid, the acid, I’m gonna drown—I gotta—”

 Tony gets up, turning around and covering his face with his hand. He can’t stand it. He can’t fucking stand it. He’s shaking and he feels like he’s gonna pass out.

 “Peter, baby, please,” May whispers.

 “May, please let me go,” Peter pleads. “Please, please, the acid—”

 “I’m gonna go fly around,” Tony says, dizzy and sick, the time ticking away in his head. “I’m gonna go—search for myself.”

 “Tony,” May calls, but he doesn’t look back.

 ~

 The acid is licking at the edges of the bed now, splashing up onto Peter’s legs and burning him. Peter sobs and grits his teeth and keeps trying, keeps trying, thrashing and wearing rug burns onto his wrists and ankles and maybe this wasn’t Tony, maybe this was the clone, and the acid is rising up and rising up and Peter tries to hold his arms up as much as he can and the windows are back and swapping around on the walls like bad Tetris and he’s about to yell out for May when—

 Scorpion. Big Scorpion. In the corner of the room.

 Laughing at him.

 And the acid seems to cling to him when he moves. Like a neon sign.

 ~

 And after six hours of looking all over God’s green earth, after watching Peter’s time dwindle to just under a day, May calls to tell Tony that Peter is gone.

 “Gone?” Tony screams, nearly crashing into One Vanderbilt.

 “Not dead,” she says, and the crying doesn’t help. “But gone, he—broke out of the cuffs when I went to get him something to eat. He was really bad off, it was getting—so bad, and I left and I wasn’t gone for long and he just—now we can’t—everyone is looking, everything is activated—”

 “Friday,” Tony stammers, and she confirms by throwing it all up on the screen.

 May gasps and tries to keep talking. “He—doesn’t have a suit, we didn’t—see him take one, and there’s not—no tracking, but we’re—”

 “I’ll find him,” Tony breathes, changing his trajectory.

 ~

 And it feels like another lie.

 He couldn’t come up with an antidote. He couldn’t find Scorpion. He couldn’t even make Peter comfortable, couldn’t soothe him, couldn’t counteract anything, and worse yet the last thing he did before he left was handcuff Peter to the bed, a severe breach of trust no matter what the hell’s going on, and he shouldn’t have done it, he shouldn’t have, he should have just kept chasing him down, bringing him back, but he was going into other rooms and electrocuting himself on old machines, for God’s sake—

 And Tony searches and searches and he doesn’t even register the time until the clock runs out.

 The clock runs out.

 It runs out, all zeroes, and Tony is in the air in Queens and everyone else is scattered and the time runs out. The three days, they ran together like watercolor, like broken glass in the trash bin, and it’s over and it’s done and he’s—he’s—

 He’s not in front of them, so they don’t know. 

 Tony gets a few calls, but he ignores them, setting his jaw and trying not to cry.

 He can’t be dead he can’t be he can’t be—

 They’d send messages if they’d found Peter, if they’d—

 Tony keeps searching. He can’t breathe but he keeps searching.

 “Friday, take that shit off the screen,” Tony rasps, trying to see through his tears.

 The zeroes disappear.

 ~

 And Peter doesn’t come home.

 Tony doesn’t like the phrase ‘presumed dead’, and yet, somehow, the news starts splashing it across their headlines about seven hours after the time clock runs out. 

 SPIDER-MAN PRESUMED DEAD, and it’s everywhere, on all the networks, to the point where reporters start showing up at Stark facilities, including their new home base. And Tony doesn’t understand why, or what the fuck happened, and he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t gone back and he hasn’t stopped looking, so what the hell do they know that he doesn’t?

 “Nothing,” Rhodey says, on the phone. “They don’t know anything, Pepper and I interrogated Don at CNN and he just got a tip, a bunch of them did, but they don’t know anything for real.”

 “They don’t have any actual information?”

 “Just a story,” Rhodey says. “No sightings, no anything, I don’t know why they’re taking it seriously. Pepper is with May, she’s—not dealing with any of this well, and I know you’re not either, so you need to—you should come home, just for a little bit, okay? Just to eat, just to see us, and then—”

 “No, I gotta keep looking,” Tony says, continuing his scans and sweeps of the street. He’s sure Iron Man’s presence in the sky isn’t doing them any favors in terms of the story. 

 And what is he looking for? A dead body? A miracle?

 “Tony.”

 “Rhodey, I gotta keep—I gotta keep looking.”

 ~

 And he does, and he doesn’t find anything. He essentially starts going door to door and he doesn’t fucking find anything. He shakes Electro out of his cave and he doesn’t know shit, he finds that rat gang of assholes and they don’t know anything either. 

 And Tony comes home after a day and a half and nearly passes out. From not eating, from exhaustion, from grief, from too many zeroes and too much silence. That headline. Failure.

 The ghost of Peter’s face—

 You need to come to terms—

 No. No.

 He sits in a dark room with half a bagel and he can’t face May. He can’t face MJ or Ned or his own wife or anybody that loves Spider-Man.

 He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything, at all. He was completely and utterly fucking useless. No wonder Peter didn’t come to him.

 Where is his body gonna be? Who’s gonna find it? What will he be wearing in his casket? The kid doesn’t like suits. 

 Tony covers his face with his hands. His breath comes out in tremors.

 ~

 And Tony feels like he’s hallucinating now. Everything moves in stop-motion. 

 “Come sleep,” Pepper says, kissing his forehead. “Just for a little while.”

 He says something back to her. He doesn’t know what it is, and she gives him that look, like she pities him, like she wishes she could take it all away. But she kisses him again and leaves, and he’s alone, terrified he might see May around the corner.

 He drifts, lost in his own pain and failure, and the memories and Peter’s chit-chat and everything he’ll never get to say again, and Tony’s just about to leave to suit up again when he gets the alert.

 “Boss, Peter Parker is at door B5 on the second level.” 

 Everything comes to a screeching halt. It catches up with itself. 

 Tony leaps to his feet, and Friday trills for his heart rate. It seems like the world is thrown off its axis for a second—or it’s reset back on it—

 Tony reaches for something that isn’t there, trying to steady, trying to—

 Peter. Peter. Peter at the door?

 Not dead. Not dead. What the fuck is going on?

 “Peter?” he breathes, already moving, not of his own accord. “Friday, it’s—are you—are you sure—”

 “Peter Parker, B5.”

 And Tony races there. Doesn’t think. Races through the empty hallways and nearly busts his ass on the stairwell. And when he reaches the door he can hear someone trying to scan in, and failing, more than one time, and he feels like an alarm would have already gone off if Friday didn’t know who it was.

 “Friday, let him in—”

 And the door opens just as Tony grabs the handle, and Peter stumbles inside.

 Tony catches him when his legs give out, and Peter laughs a little bit, holding onto Tony’s arms. 

 He laughs. A laugh.

 “Hey, hey,” Tony stutters, and he kicks the door closed and gets a hold of Peter around the waist. “Jesus, Jesus Christ—sitting or standing? I can do either one. Expert at either one.”

 Alive alive he’s here—

 “Uh, standing,” Peter says, gripping Tony’s arm and his shoulder. “Geeze, sorry. Still…wobbly.” He finally looks up at him—his eyes are so much brighter, and he’s gotten some of his color back.

 Alive. Alive, not dead. Alive, solid, real.

 How? How?

 “What the hell happened?” Tony breathes. He glances around, panic rising in his throat, and he feels dizzy. “No, you know what, I choose sitting, I forgot there was a couch here—c’mere, c’mere bud, easy, easy—”

 Peter snorts. “Okay yeah—good idea, uh—”

 “Tell me what happened,” Tony says, moving them over there, sitting down. He keeps an arm around him, and brushes his hair back from his forehead so he can see his face better. 

 Disbelief. He can barely breathe he can barely think—

 Peter shakes his head, closes his eyes, sags into Tony’s side. “Um—it’s still like, a mess, in my head, but I think like—I don’t know, I saw Scorpion, in the hallucination, and I—the acid, that I thought was there, it like—it pointed to him. And when I broke out of the handcuffs—”

 “I’m so sorry,” Tony says, his face burning. “I’m so sorry.”

 “No—I—listen, I get it, it’s okay—but the acid, it kept—even when he disappeared, the acid was neon and made like a trail and I—found him. I don’t know. I don’t know why it worked. Maybe something like a signature in the poison he made and my brain and him—I don’t know.”

 He really looks at Tony, and Tony can see he’s bloody at the corner of his mouth, and he’s got a black eye. 

 Tony’s heart lurches. “Are you okay?” he asks, tipping Peter’s chin towards him, and Peter nods. “You got the—”

 “I got it,” Peter breathes, nodding slowly. “Antidote. He actually seemed impressed—”

 “Where is he now?” Tony says, blinking, feeling displaced. 

 “I left without a suit, so—I—he was in this warehouse. They’re always in a warehouse. I just piled as much shit on top of him as I could without killing him. He was knocked out, it was—hard but it’s—he should still be there.”

 Tony nods. He’s gotta get somebody on that. 

 He’s shaking with the emotion of it all, and he stares at him, tries to believe it, tries to live in it. He’s here. He’s here. 

 Tony deflates a little bit, and he leans forward and presses his forehead to Peter’s, closing his eyes. “Jesus, Pete, I thought you were dead.”

 “Me too,” Peter says, laughing a little bit. He pats Tony’s knee. “Can’t get rid of me that easy though, so—don’t, uh—sorry, my brain is still mushy peas.”

 “It’s okay, it’s—we gotta tell May, she’s been half insane—”

 And like clockwork, Tony hears her coming down the stairs. 

 “Tony,” she’s yelling, and Tony peels away from Peter to look. “Tony, I heard—Friday sent a notification—”

 She sees Peter, stuttering in her tracks briefly, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. But then she’s running again, at full speed, and Tony helps Peter stand up.

 “Hey May,” Peter breathes, and she rushes at him, wrapping him up in her arms. 

 “Oh, my baby,” she says, clutching at him. “My baby, Peter, you’re alive. You’re alive, thank God, thank God.”

 “Yeah,” Peter says, rubbing her back, looking a little unsteady on his feet. “The news, uh—I told you they get it wrong a lot.”

 “Come on,” Tony says, patting Peter’s shoulders. “Let’s—let’s go get you checked out.”

 ~

 Happy goes to pick up MJ and Ned. Pepper deals with the news and the police. Rhodey heads out with Sam to get Scorpion and put him away for good.

 And Tony and May watch while Helen checks Peter out. His levels are all getting back to normal, for real this time. His body is recovering, and the hallucinations are gone. Peter still has the “antidote bottle” that asshole gave him, and Helen takes it to test, to make sure they’ll have everything covered for next time. 

 Next time. There better not be a next time. Tony’s heart can’t take it.

 “He did it all himself,” Tony says, when he and May are heading back into the room where Peter is. “I didn’t help at all—actually, I hindered. I actively hindered.”

 “You kept him safe, and he felt safe, even if he didn’t really know it,” May says. “He feels comfort in us, even if we can’t—fix it, every time.”

 Tony blows out a breath.

 “And I know you want to be able to fix it,” she says, as they reach the door. “But you wanted him to be better than you, didn’t you? You said that to him once?”

 He freezes. It hits him like a pile of bricks, but all she does is smile. She opens the door and they walk inside and Peter is already getting out of bed.

 “No more acid?” May asks, glancing back at Tony.

 “No more acid,” Peter says. He crosses his arms over his chest, and shakes his head. “I barely remember any of it. Just sort of like—flashes of a very bad movie.”

 “Yeah,” Tony croaks, emerging from his shock. “You broke into Beyoncé’s apartment.”

 Both Peter and May whip their heads up to look at him.

 “Beyoncé?” they both nearly yell, in unison, and Tony snorts.

 “No,” he says. “I don’t know.” He feels hazy still, and he swallows hard, trying to focus. “C’mere, I need a—real hug, real quick.”

 “You mean not quick at all?” Peter asks, smiling at him with that bright, familiar smile that was lost the past couple days.

 Could have been counted down to being lost forever.

 Tony hugs him, squeezes his eyes shut, and doesn’t think about that. He rubs Peter’s shoulder and sways them both a bit, and doesn’t think about that. There’s no more ticking in his head, and Peter’s…Peter’s back. 

 “Maybe it was Beyoncé’s apartment,” Tony says, before the emotions overwhelm him, cradling Peter’s head. “It’s not out of the question. We’re gonna have to find out.”

 “Yeah, we’re gonna have to—resolve that before the Beyhive finds me,” Peter says, still hugging him. “They’ll figure out my identity immediately.”

 Tony pulls back, shaking his head at him. “I don’t know what a Beyhive is.”

 “Don’t cross them, that’s what I’m saying,” Peter says. “And the other thing I’m saying is, I’m extremely hungry, and I might…I might die, if we don’t resolve that sooner rather than later.” He raises his eyebrows. “Tick tock.”

 He’s trying to be cute and funny, to make them feel better, like things are getting back to normal after another round of hell courtesy of Spider-Man’s enemies. But Tony and May look at each other with a different kind of understanding of that phrase now.

 “Okay,” Tony says, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulders, while May gently takes his elbow. “That, I can help with.”

[sunchaserwings]

Incoming rant about The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Herlock Sholmes from The Great Ace Attorney, and the BBC Sherlock (no major spoilers ahead I promise).

A preface before I begin; I was never a big fan of Sherlock Holmes or any adaptation of the stories. I've seen Elementary although I was very young so I only have the vaguest of memories of enjoying it, and my roommate had me watch a couple BBC Sherlock episodes when I was a tween/young teen. My mother claims she tried to get me into Sherlock Holmes but I'm rather skeptical. Anyhow, onto the story.

Back in March my boyfriend bought me the Ace Attorney games for my birthday which included the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles (or Dai Gyakuten Saiban for those who are still stuck on the pre-localization names ;p). I was on my flight home from my birthday trip after I got the news my manager fired my brother while I was out of the state and figured why not, I'd start playing the first TGAA game on the flight. I'd probably enjoy myself and I couldn't sleep.

Second biggest mistake of the year (first biggest was trusting Les Schwab to do my brake job). I. Was. Hooked. I played the first case and fell in love with Kazuma instantly (he's so Zero shaped!). I played the second case and realized that calling him Zero shaped was way too accurate. We all know what happened there. Most important to this rant, I met Herlock Sholmes (more on my opinions on him later). I could barely put the game down but I had to take a break due to finding a new job and getting adjusted. I ended up finishing the game in June or July, one of the two. I finished the final case of the first game in one long 12 hour gaming session it was that good (my back didn't thank me though).

Now, the man of the hour: Herlock Sholmes. I didn't think much of him initially. He was simultaneously charming and annoying in the second case but as I played more he grew on me. I cried when the start of 1-5 happened. He clawed his way up into like the top 7 favorite characters at the time. The ending of the game with him playing his violin made me bawl my eyes out. I. Loved. This. Game.

It took a few more months to start and finish the second game. In between Adventures and Resolve I played Skyward Sword, Minish Cap, and some others so I had a healthy break. I came back to play Resolve and finished it like two months ago. It hit me in the gut just as hard as the first game did although there are a great many things I'd tweak and do differently. But Herlock Sholmes... man, he's not my favorite but he's up there underneath Kazuma and Van Zieks.

Anyhow, I finished the game but the hyperfixation had started and would not let me go. I've never been one to go out and seek fanfiction due to... personal stuff but I had a feeling I didn't want to go probe the depths of AO3 yet for fear of crying. I started a graveyard shift at my job which severely limited my ability to talk with people about stuff and also there's so many major spoilers but very few people I knew had played the game. A thought occurred to me, however. What about Sherlock Holmes audiobooks? I have an auditory processing issue which has made listening to audiobooks hard but I decided to give it a go. Perhaps it would satiate the TGAA hyperfixation hunger.

I found the ones produced by Magpie Audio, expertly narrated by Greg Wagland. Go check him out, he has over 77 videos of Sherlock Holmes audiobook recordings and all of them are a minimum of 40 minutes, often times far more. I went through over 30 hours of audiobook in a few weeks listening to these. Sherlock Holmes is such a good character and I can understand how and why he took late Victorian England by storm. And you know what the best part is?

Herlock Sholmes is the most faithful adaptation I have personally seen as a character of the original Sherlock Holmes.

They got so many of Sherlock's little idiosyncrasies right and you can tell the entire team were genuine fans of the books. I listened to Mr. Wagland's narration *and I saw 221B Baker of the games*. Especially the jack knife impaling the communications to the mantle being referenced in the game? The sheer mess of the flat? It's so good!

My roommate (whom is also a Sherlock Holmes fan) noticed my newest hyper fixation that spawned off of TGAA and that reignited his Sherlock Holmes obsession. He was a fan of the BBC Sherlock and now recognizes it was not a very great show but it's a comfort media for him nonetheless. He just dragged me into rewatching it and... okay, it's playing into a lot of inaccurate Sherlock tropes I don't like but goddamn Martin Freeman carries the whole show. I love his John Watson because it feels like a reasonable version of a modern, younger Watson. He feels real in a way. I do like the fact that even in the first episode, it's established that John and Sherlock can make each other laugh and smile just like in the books. I don't forgive them calling Sherlock a sociopath, however (speaking as someone with a brother that has been diagnosed with being a high-fuctioning sociopath). He's AuDHD to the max and deserves recognition in that department.

All of this to say, I can trace my current Sherlock hyperfixation back to Mega Man. Finding Mega Man in 4th grade led to watching the Ace Attorney anime in late 2021 which led to playing The Great Ace Attorney and that led to listening to Sherlock Holmes. I don't know why I decided to make this post but maybe I might start live blogging this shit? All in all, this is going to be a wild ride.

[abbyromanoff]

first of all, hiii :]] I really adore your writing and how you take Marilyn requests because my girl rarely has anything written bout her !!! I also just finished watching Wednesday and got really attached to Ms. Thornhill but wanted to forget what happened in episode 8 for my own sake.

Is it possible if you could write g¡p Marilynxfem!reader where reader is in Ms. Thronhill’s room and they kinda just had too much to drink so reader starts to wander her hands around Marilyn, but she thinks that it’s a bad idea, but gives in to reader when she starts to palms her crotch? could you also maybe add in Marilyn using keywords like ‘hun, sweetheart, darling’ and stuff like that when doing the deed with reader? Also having praising and degradation mixed in? Mostly degradation :]

Thank you and have a good day !!

Temptations

Pairings: Marilyn Thornhill x reader

Word count: 1231

Warnings: Marilyn has a dick, blowjobs, degrading, praising, slightly public sex, crying kink (kinda),

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“So, what do you think of the party so far?” Marilyn inquired, attempting to put an end to the tense quiet between the two of you.

You looked over at her, her head hanging low in embarrassment. “It’s great, I think it’s amazing they’re doing this stuff for the kids.” She nodded along, agreeing with your statement. She moved a tad bit closer to you, trying not to make it obvious.

“So, would you like a drink?” You thought she meant punch until she showed you a flask she must've been hiding all this time. She pointed further back in the room with her head, placing her hand on your lower back to bring you with her. Neither of you could have the students seeing you, you could get fired. Even if most students were doing it themselves, you couldn’t risk it.

You both stood there, occasionally letting each other have sips before handing it back. Marilyn tried not to stare at your lips, but it was so difficult. The thought of kissing you was unbearable, she wanted to feel your lips against her own.

“Would you want to head back to my room? You know, to discuss work.” She nervously asked. You knew there would be no talking there, she wouldn’t invite you to her bedroom just to talk about work.

“Well, why don't we just discuss work here? Why go to your bedroom for that?” You teased further, holding back your smile at her blushing face.

“Well, it is deafening in here, mine as well go somewhere quieter.” She waited for your response, only to feel a hand tugging her towards the exit. She smirked lightly at the thought of what was to come. You were halfway to her room before you pushed her up against the wall, licking your lips while staring at her. You leaned in, giving her time to back away if she didn’t want it. She met you halfway, connecting her lips with your plump ones. Her fingers went under your chin, holding it delicately as her tongue entered your mouth.

The two of you stood there, making out in the hallway like horny high school students. Her hands went to your hips, her knee going between your thighs. You grinded ever so lightly against her, moaning when the clothing hit your bundle of nerves. Suddenly, it all stopped. You stared at the woman with confusion, only to see her looking around worriedly.

“What’s wrong?” She sighed, looked down, and removed herself from you.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, anyone could catch us. And, you’re my coworker, it’s probably best we don’t make things awkward.”

“Mars, if you really don’t want this, I won’t force you. But, I don’t think that’s actually what you want.” You palmed her crotch, using the pads of your fingertips to rub over her bulge lightly. She hummed, her eyes shutting softly.

“I knew you wanted it. C'mon, no one’s around, let’s have some fun.” Your knees buckled as you dropped, your face lined up directly with her confined length.

“Y/N, we can’t! What if a student walks by? Or Weems?” You only chuckled, continuing to remove her pants as only her boxers were left.

“They’re all at the dance. And if someone does, I’ll just stand up and you can put your clothes back on like nothing ever happened.” You reasoned, smiling when she nodded. Her hands were behind her back, picking the skin near her nails. You removed her undergarments, leaving small pecks all over her throbbing cock.

“Wait.” You stopped, ready to repeat your words from earlier before she spoke once more. “I’ve never gotten a uhm, a blowjob.” You smiled warmly, grabbing one of her hands and kissing the back of it.

“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to.” She shook her head, keeping you down when you tried to stand.

“No, I’m fine. I just wanted to warn you, but you can continue.” You complied, staring up at her as you took the tip in your mouth. You wanted to make her first magical, the best she ever had. You moaned around her, sending vibrations through her shivering body. Her head lurched back and she sighed with contentment, letting out a few whimpers every few seconds. A popping sound could be heard as you released her from your mouth, admiring the way she chased after you. Your hand wrapped around her, stroking up and down to create a rhythm.

“Mm, you taste so good, Mars. Can’t believe I’m the first, I’m so damn lucky.” Your lips went back onto her, sucking the bulbous head as you continued stroking her cock dripping pre-cum. She gained a bit of confidence, gripping your hair to push you down further. She looked down at you, making sure this was okay and she didn’t overstep. Your moan was all the approval she needed, she used your mouth like a fleshlight, forcing you to take as much of her as you could. Your droopy eyes spilling tears made her smile.

“Fuck darling, am I too much for you? Too big for this tight little mouth.” You gagged, feeling her hit the back of your throat.

“That’s it, sweetheart, gag on my dick. Cry for me, you little bitch.” Her soft tone didn’t match the harsh words leaving her, but you found it unbelievably hot.

“My god, your mouth feels so good! Am I the first to fuck this mouth? Hm? Tell me, hun, am I the first?” She let you breathe for a moment, before slapping your face as a warning.

“Y-yes! You’re the first!” It was a lie. You’ve had many encounters like this before, but the way she begged to hear you say it, you couldn’t deny it.

Before you could lower yourself back down, Marilyn stopped you. Her hand replaced yours, her coil snapping as her release painted your face. You opened your mouth, letting some of it hit your tongue before you swallowed. Her hard breaths returned back to normal, she looked at your now covered face and smiled. She stroked your cheek, gathering her juices on her finger. She made you suck on her digits full of her cum, shutting your eyes and basking in the taste.

She picked you up, wrapping your legs around her hips as you were slammed against the wall. Before she could line herself up with your awaiting entrance, a loud ringing came out of nowhere. You both panicked, looking to where the party was as you heard the kids' screams. The two of you put your clothes back on hastily and ran to the room, finding everyone covered in a red substance. You shared a look, acting as normal as possible when your boss walked up to you.

“Where have you two been?” She angrily whispered, seeing your slightly ruined makeup.

“Uh, talking?” Marilyn nodded, her face turning red. She was thankful it was dark, so you couldn’t see how red she was.

“Well, let’s go clean this mess up.” Weems shook her head and walked off, leaving the two of you alone. Marilyn looked at you with a smile, patting your back.

“That was close, we could’ve gotten caught.” You grinned, looking up at her with a smirk.

“Yeah, but it was worth it.” She smiled, kissing your forehead before helping you clean up.

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 4

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: As you learn things about Frankie, you wonder how much Anna realizes how she affected you. Frankie is adamant about getting to know you more, exposing you to his life in ways Anna hasn’t been exposed to Santiago’s

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 7k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, protected p in v, oral (m and f receiving) dirty talk, breast play, eating, mentions of missing meals, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! I hope you're just as excited as I am for their first date :) Things will continue to get heavier as we progress, and I might start putting out drabbles of back stories? Like Anna's reactions or Santi's observations? Idk, let me know what you think about that before I do it lol. Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot

You’ve been dreading seeing Anna. 

She came to your job to “just buy a coffee” to set up a girl’s night with you, and it was forced beyond belief. 

You really do love her like a sister, and sometimes sisters need space. You put on that face that your mother taught you early on; smile and deal with it. 

“I was thinking we could watch something silly, like just a couple episodes of a cartoon or something?” She asks at the end of the coffee bar, sipping from her matcha latte, that she requested you make because you “make it best.” Oat milk, a couple pumps of vanilla, light ice. You glance up at her as you wipe down the counter–even in just a t-shirt and jeans she looks effortlessly put together. Her hair is down, soft curls framing her face with a dewiness you’ve never been able to pull off. 

You sigh, setting the rag back in the sanitizing water. “Sure, that sounds okay. Do we want to cook?” You suggest, trying to show you are putting in effort. 

The bell above the door rings as you continue the conversation with her, smiling at all the right times and helping move the conversation along. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hat, and whip your head over to see Frankie and Benny, Santiago already coming over to Anna. 

“Hey!” Anna squeals, hugging around Santi. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you were going to stop by, and we just got done at the hangar so we thought to pick something up,” Santiago says quietly, looking up at you and giving you a knowing smirk. “Frankie wanted to have a drink made by his girl anyway.”

You can feel your face flush red at the implication, looking over at Frankie’s smile. Santiago seemed to be just as forward as Anna, suggesting that you were “Frankie’s girl” even though you and Frankie had only been around each other a few times. Benny is watching the interaction, standing back to get the full picture. His eyes flick to yours briefly as he gives you a nod of acknowledgment. 

Frankie is at the counter, tilting his head as you come over. You’re suddenly nervous, wiping your hands against your apron that has chocolate sauce splattered on it. Ugh. “Uh, hi.” You say quietly, clearing your throat. 

You can hear Anna tittering, laughing with Santi and it makes you feel more embarrassed. Like you have an audience and you can’t escape this show that they have decided to watch– “You look beautiful, hermosa.” Frankie says quietly so no one else can hear it, eyes resting on you with not a care in the world. 

If you could blush more, you would at this very moment. You clear your throat, shaking your head. “What can I get you, Frankie?”

“Are we still on for this Friday?” He asks, smirking at you as you look down at the counter. You go to look over at Benny, Santi, and Anna, but Frankie pulls you back with his words. “Don’t worry about them. Just you and me right?” He’s just as quiet as before, smiling at you as you nod in confirmation. “Can you make me what you make for yourself?”

You sigh in relief, that Frankie isn’t asking for something overly sweet, or just black coffee. He wants what you make yourself; so that he can see you. You mark the cup with his order even though he doesn’t know what it is and look over at Benny. “Would you like anything?”

Benny shakes his head no, giving you a soft smile that matches Frankie’s. You get to work making Frankie’s drink; iced, easy, and a little sweet. It looks scarier than it is, with such little cream in it, but it isn’t needed. When you go to hand it to him, Santiago and Benny are bickering about what they did today. You look over to Frankie who is already looking at you, rolling his eyes at his friends arguing. “Ignore them.”

“No, I want her opinion actually,” Benny says, turning towards you. You widen your eyes, looking at Frankie across the counter and back to Benny. “Who do you think is a better fighter? Pope here, or Will?” 

Santiago scoffs, leaning against Anna as he has an arm wrapped around her. “How is that fair? She doesn’t know how either of us fight.”

“Why are you fighting?” You ask, stopping their bickering for them to look at you. Anna smirks, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Just, which one looks like it, no one is fighting,” Frankie says, leaning against the countertop. He has yet to take a sip of the drink you made him. 

“Except me, I’m the professional.” Benny concedes. “But that’s why I’m not an option.”

You pause, unsure if you knew that about Benny. “Wait, you’re a professional fighter?” You turn to Frankie, who’s smiling at you. 

“You didn’t know that?” Santiago exclaims, looking over at Frankie. “Next you’re going to say he didn’t tell you he’s a pilot.”

Your head whips to Frankie, who is still staring at you, eyes now wide and smiling bigger. “You’re a pilot?” You squeak out, listening to everyone laugh at you. It’s an irritating sound, one that is enhanced by Anna’s laugh–somehow she even knew?

Frankie must notice your nervousness, how you start to pull away at the sound of everyone laughing and reaches forward for your hand. “Hey, it hadn’t come up, and I only just got my license back.” He says quietly, eyes wide and open for you to read. “We just haven’t talked about it, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a tight smile and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” 

He holds on to your hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go and continuing to watch you. He looks like he’s about to say something more but–“Don’t worry!” Anna screeches, jumping back at the sound and looking over at her. “They all don’t really talk about what they do. I only knew because Santi told me he was going to be in a helicopter today.” Anna tries to soothe, looking over at Frankie with a knowing smile that makes your face drop. 

Your whole mask you had been wearing for Anna to play nice fades. “I’m so glad you know everything about him.” You say quietly, flicking your gaze to Frankie before turning around for the rag again. You close your eyes in frustration, not wanting to continue this back and forth anymore. You clear your throat, “I have to close up, guys. Can you leave?”

The silence is tense as everyone stops talking, shuffling of feet heading towards the door. When you look to the side, Frankie is still standing there, brows furrowed as he watches you. Anna stands just outside the door, oblivious to the change in mood as she kisses Santiago. “She doesn’t know anything about me, cariño.” Frankie states, watching you. You’re quick to look back at him after watching Santiago frown in your direction, looking down at Anna and asking a question. 

You crack your neck, closing your eyes. The way Frankie listens to what you said and addresses it head-on, whether or not you meant the words makes you question if you should have said it. “I didn’t say that to upset you, Frankie.” You say quietly, holding your apron by the edge. It’s worn down here, where you grab it often.

“I’m not upset.” He tilts his head, watching you for another beat. “You are, though. What happened, just now?”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “I don’t know.” You do know. Anna has just put in your head that she knows Frankie better than you. That she will always have the upper hand. That she–

“I only just got my flying license back because of a drug problem,” Frankie says abruptly, watching for your reaction. 

You stop down your anxiety spiral, looking up to him. “Oh, I-I didn’t know that.” You whisper. 

“Neither does Anna.” Frankie nods, licking his lips. “Pope, Benny, and Will know, because they helped me get it back. They won’t tell her- even Pope won’t. I don’t want Anna to know.”

You shake your head, widening your eyes. “I wouldn’t tell her–”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Frankie smiles, leaning forward. “I’m telling you because I trust you.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you towards the counter, and leans over to kiss your cheek. And just like that, Frankie’s serious switch has changed back to playful, smirking at you and looking at your lips. “Thank you for the coffee.” He whispers, giving you a wink before leaning away and taking a sip. As he’s walking away he nods appreciatively at the cup. “Holy shit, this is what you get? That’s delicious.”

Frankie is satisfied with how he left your workplace, sliding into his seat next to Benny after Pope said he would go with Anna back to her place. The two of them together were unaware to the rest of the world after brief questions if everything was alright, and it made Frankie upset for you. He takes another sip of the coffee you made him-some caramel-flavored dark drink that is sweet but strong. 

“What happened back there?” Benny questions, pulling onto the road. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, looking over at Frankie and then back at the dark street. He snatches Frankie’s cup and takes a sip of the coffee himself. “Wow, that is strong.”

“It’s good,” Frankie argues, feeling himself getting defensive for you. He sighs, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Anna and she have some issues, and anytime I try to get her to open up about it, she’s vague.” Frankie concedes, confiding in Benny. Benny was trustworthy for not telling Pope something that would in turn get back to you through Anna. He knew he wasn’t the only one that had noticed the tension. “She told me she hasn’t dated in a while because Anna interferes.”

Benny’s face scrunches in confusion. “What, like sabotaging it?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie shakes his head, looking out the window. He thinks back to hiding in your closet, watching your eyes glaze over with tears. “She…she said something that made her upset the other day. Something about leaving Pope.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Benny shakes his head, turning into Frankie’s driveway and shifting his body to look at him briefly. “She wasn’t like this before Anna planned on setting her up with you.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to do with that information, letting it bounce around in his head. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, shooting you a message, getting wrapped up in it to where he isn’t aware of his dazed-looking smile that Benny rolls his eyes at.

Dinner at my favorite spot on Friday?

Where’s your favorite spot?

It’s a surprise ;)

What should I wear?

He knows this shouldn’t make his heart speed up and his dick tighten in his pants; he just told you that he had a previous drug problem after you were spiraling from your friend’s comments. He knows you’re asking because you want to literally know what to wear to your date with him on Friday-but he can’t help but relive what happened over the weekend, stripping your top half and letting you feel–

“Earth to Frankie,” Benny says with a small smile, looking over at him before pulling into Frankie’s driveway. “Where are you taking her on Friday?”

Frankie sighs, shaking his head and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I was thinking Berto’s, but I don’t want to bring her somewhere you guys will show up.” He says, giving a pointed look to Benny. “I need you to be quiet about it.”

Benny agrees easily, promising to not say a word as Frankie hops out of the vehicle, waving goodbye and stepping into his entry. When he finally gets to sit on his couch he brings his phone back out to respond to you. 

Anything you want, hermosa. Casual, just relaxed type of date

He sighs, watching the bubbles of your pending response appear, tilting his head and waiting. He thinks you’re taking much longer than usual when it pops up that you’re now calling him. He answers quickly, not caring if he sounds desperate. “Hi.”

“Will you tell me what that means?” You laugh, the sound of your car alarm beeping at you to indicate you’ve locked it. You sound different than you did in the cafe–like you’ve moved past what has happened in there.

“Tell you what what means?” He questions, smiling to himself and leaning further into the couch. 

“Hermosa? And cariño, since we are on the subject.” You say, your accent not matching even close to what the pronunciation is supposed to be. 

He chuckles, scratching at his forehead. “I thought you knew.” He muses, listening to your giggle and the sound of your door opening. “Did you just get home?”

“Yes.” You sound tired, ready to lie down at any moment. “I have to clean up for Anna to be here tomorrow.”

He hums again, looking at the clock. “Have you eaten already?” 

“No.” You yawn, a muted thump heard through the phone. “I think I’m going to lay down and maybe nap, then clean up.”

“I’ll order you food.” He says, putting you on speaker and ordering from the same place as before again. As he’s clicking confirm, you’re protesting. “Too late, it’s on its way.” 

“Ugh, I hate you.” You mumble a tiny laugh bringing a smile to Frankie’s face. “You can’t be doing that.”

“Just accept it, hermosa.” Frankie grumbles. 

“What does that mean?!” You laugh. Frankie’s smile grows wider as he lets your laughter lessen.

“It means gorgeous. Or beautiful, depending on my mood.” He shrugs to himself, feeling a blush creep onto his face. He can only picture yours, biting at your lip with anxiety but red-faced to match his. He listens to you breathe, wondering if you’re going to respond, but when you don’t and just let the silence grow between you, he sighs. “I’ll let you eat. Let me know how it goes tomorrow? With Anna?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You say quietly. “Thank you.”

He smiles, ending the call and leaning back on the cushion of his couch. He knows he’s screwed when it comes to you. 

Playing nice with Anna is a blur that you aren’t totally present for. You’re tired, staying up all night tossing and turning in bed at the thought of her stopping by, only soothed by the memory of Frankie calling you hermosa, and has been since he first met you. After Anna had left, hugging you and kissing your cheek saying she misses hanging out with you, you feel almost guilty for not being as fun as you used to be. 

She didn’t ask about Frankie once. 

It irritates you in more ways than one that Anna chose to not even ask how you two are doing. She was adamant about being in your business before, but what has changed? Was she really wanting to just hang out with you?

You said as much in your phone call with Frankie following Anna leaving. “She was so nosy before, breaking down my bedroom door to find you.”

He laughed quietly through the phone. “Don’t worry about it, maybe she’s discovering she needs to give you space finally.”

“Don’t give her too much credit.” You grumble, taking a bite of some late-night cereal you had put together. 

Another laugh and a small sigh. “Have you figured out what you’re wearing for our first date yet?” He teased, making you smile into your spoon. 

You hum. “No, did you have a suggestion?”

You can hear him thinking through the phone, debating on what exactly to say. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Comfortable for you meant shorts and a T-shirt. You made sure it was your nicest pair of jean shorts, with small distress marks towards the hem, flattering and slightly loose so you could move easily. A plain scoop neck shirt, dark olive green that reminds you of Frankie’s comforter. This doesn’t feel like a date-worthy outfit, but you feel better about it when Frankie comes to your door wearing close to the same thing- ripped jeans and a charcoal shirt. His boots are laced up tightly, hidden by the hem of his pant legs, hat is perched on his head. 

You open the door wider for him and step away towards the hall. “I’m almost ready.” You call, stepping back in front of the mirror and adding a single layer of mascara. You hear him hum, tapping on your countertop with his fingertips. 

When you step back out, Frankie is leaning against the counter and watching you. “You’re very pretty, cariño.” He says quietly, holding his hand out for you to take. 

You do, shyly placing your fingers in his palm and feeling a jolt of adrenaline when he pulls you toward him. He kisses you lightly, smiling at you as you look up at him. “Ready?”

Nodding, he pulls you along, letting you lock your door before helping you into his passenger seat. He jogs around to the driver's side, starting the engine and then looking at you for a brief moment before placing his hand on your leg again. The drive is relatively silent, Frankie asking how the past couple of days have gone for you, but just enjoying your presence. You feel yourself relax the further along he drives, giddy about what he has planned. “So, where are we going?”

He smirks, looking at you for a moment, and then back to the road. “I thought I would tour you around the hangar, show you Big Mama.” He says quietly, pulling down a dirt road and slowing the speed of his truck. 

“Big Mama?” You question, gripping the handle of the door tightly as Frankie hits a bump quicker than expected. You jump in the seat, Frankie giving a short chuckle at your surprised gasp. 

“Just a dirt road, hermosa, don’t worry. Yes, that’s the name of the helicopter.” He nods, pulling up to a large building that just looks like a garage. You look over at Frankie to see if this is right and sigh at the smile he gives you. “This part will be quick, I just wanted to show you.”

You hop out of his truck, the sun beating down on your head, and squinting towards the metal door. “Are you sure this isn’t to kill me? Kinda far away from everything else…”

He laughs, coming around the front of his truck and sliding his arm over your shoulder. His other hand reaches into his pocket, keys jingling around his fingers. “I don’t kill my dates, sweetheart.” He says quietly, pulling you along to the door and unlocking it. 

When you step in it’s cooler, concrete flooring and metal walls of the same shade of gray surround you. There are a couple smaller planes, a row of toolboxes along the short wall farther away, and a helicopter right in front of you. Your eyes widen as Frankie steps towards it, easily opening the door and climbing in without looking back at you. 

He slides the back door open, smiling over at you in a way you haven’t seen before. He looks like a little kid, getting to play with his toys and is excited to tell you about it, dimples deep into his cheeks. “Come on in.”

You step forward, grabbing the hand he has offered and step into the opening, looking around cautiously. “What kind of helicopter is this?” You ask, looking up at him. 

“It’s a decommissioned military helicopter.” He says, letting you take a step or two around to explore. “It still works, but it lets us practice a bit in case.”

“In case of what?” You question, missing Frankie’s serious face as he thinks.

“In case we get called on again.” He mumbles, stepping toward you with a quick smile and directing you to the front. He shows you the pilot's seat and lets you act as if you are flying the helicopter. Pointing to the different buttons and levers, he tells you how it works in the simplest of terms. 

You laugh when he struggles to find the right words. “You’re not going to test me, are you?” You look over at him to see he is right next to you, cheek almost touching yours, the brush of his stubble barely touching you. Your breath catches at how close you are, his tanned skin glowing with a slight sheen of sweat from the humidity outside. You could lean a bit forward and plant your lips there yourself if you had the confidence to do it.

He turns to lock eyes with you, a smirk growing on his face into a full smile again. “Should I?” He asks, leaning forward and pausing as a silent question. When you don’t move, he leans all the way in and presses his lips to yours lightly, pulling back to see your reaction. 

You inhale sharply, flicking your eyes back and forth between his and then down to his lips, his teeth peeking out as his grin grows. You rest your hand on his chest, firm under your fingers, and give a gentle shove. “No, I’m not good at tests.” You settle on, giggling at his momentary frown. 

Another moment of staring at each other before he holds his hand out to you again. “C’mon pilot, let’s get something to eat.”

Frankie loves having you beside him. He’s standing with you, at this food truck that he frequents enough that they cleaned the picnic tables off in preparation for this date. He had mentioned it to Berto, the owner a couple days ago that he would be bringing you here and Berto’s wife, Alma took matters into her own hands. String lights cover the area where the picnic tables are shaded by trees, each table has a plastic tablecloth on it so it is easier to clean up after previous guests, and they gave him extra toppings and a tray of salsa and chips. When Pope had asked if they did chips and salsa a few weeks ago, Berto had given a firm “no.” that was now being brought into question. But Frankie only takes note of these things and stores them in the back of his head because he can’t take his eyes off you. 

You’re perusing the menu, debating between soft shell tacos and a quesadilla, and ask the owner what he prefers to make. “He will make you anything you want, cariño.” He mumbles in your ear, feeling you relax against his hand resting on the small of your back. You smell warm-he doesn’t know how else to describe it. When he had stepped into your apartment earlier he smelled it and didn’t think much of it, until he had you in the helicopter so close that he wondered if he put on a perfume specifically for him. His arm around you now, he was pretty positive you had just changed your shampoo and weren’t aware he was fixated on it. 

When you’ve both ordered and sat down, he’s sat beside you to look out on the water. Berto’s food truck was set up in a local park not far from the hangar, a small pond with a walking trail accessed by just a few yards. He can’t think of anywhere he would rather be, especially when you lean your head on his shoulder and look out, sunglasses you took from his truck perched low on your nose. “Thanks for bringing me to the hangar. Is that still…your job?” You ask, not lifting your head and making yourself comfortable. 

He sighs. “No, not at the moment. I mostly do paperwork for the company that owns that hangar in exchange for using their facility.”

You shift, lifting your head and turning towards him. “Do you want to be doing that again? Flying?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “No, not really. But having my license back is good, lets me teach classes on occasion when I’m bored.”

You seem to mull it over, debating on what to ask next. Frankie feels nerves bubble in his stomach, wanting to shut down at the possibility of prying questions. He was ready to tell you that he had gotten over a drug problem, sure–but the why and how and what happened– “Do you teach like, adults? Or like rich kids wanting to fly a helicopter?”

Your question stuns him, a sigh of relief blown out of his mouth as food is placed in front of you both; something else that Alma insisted on doing. “Typically flight students, sometimes military. Whether or not they’re rich I don’t know, but you can’t just sign up for flying lessons with me, no.”

You laugh at that, sliding the sunglasses off your face and setting them on the table as you dip a piece of your quesadilla in salsa. He waits for you to take a bite, listening to your hum of satisfaction before biting into the burrito he ordered. “This is delicious!”

He swallows, watching you again. “This is my favorite spot, they make the best food. Berto over there has all these recipes down to a science.” He watches your smile, turning to him and blushing. 

“Are you watching me eat?” You groan, pushing him with your shoulder and making him chuckle. He mumbles out a no, letting silence consume you both as you enjoy each other’s company and the food together.

When you both finish, you chat about random things. Stories from growing up, but not going into detail about home life, you favorite classes when you were in school, his first few years in the military before meeting the group he is friends with now. It is nice, just getting to know each other, and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so based on your smile and how your fingers swirl small circles into the knee of his jeans. 

It sends a jolt of want up his leg when your finger accidentally drifts higher as you excitedly tell him about the time you flew down the street on your bike and now have a scar on your thigh. You point out the general location on his leg for demonstration, and Frankie has to grab your hand to get his heart rate to steady. You smile at him knowingly, tilting your head in question. 

Frankie clears his throat, looking out onto the water again before turning back to you and offers to walk around the pond. “Just a stroll?” He mumbles, watching your smile grow, ready to tease him.

The tease never comes though as you stand with him and walk down the short hill towards the paved path, following his lead in a counterclockwise direction. There is no one else around but a mom pushing her kid in a stroller and a runner, and the quiet makes Frankie take a deep breath. “Thanks for coming with me, today.” He mumbles, looking sheepish as you glance at him. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” You nod, falling in step beside him and looking out on the pond. “It’s really cool that you’re a pilot.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t even think of it that way.” He looks at you, down to your hand, and wants to reach for it. He holds back from it when you keep your eyes on him in question. “It was cool when I first started, and now it’s just part of my life. Lost its luster.”

You hum at him, moving your head back and forth before saying. “I can see how that could happen. Everything can get monotonous after a while, no matter how much you enjoy it.”

He nods, kicking a stray stone. “Do you enjoy your job?” He asks quietly, watching the crinkle at the corner of your eyes and the huff out of your nose. 

“Ah, no. I mean, it’s easy, and lots of free coffee is a bonus. But…it’s not…” You trail off, shrugging. “It’s paying the bills while I work on it.”

He nods, prying a little further. “And what are you working on?” 

Your eyes shine brightly at him, stopping in the pathway and turning your whole body. You’ve made it halfway around the pond, trees shading the pathway with benches and a small playground. “I like to write. I don’t think I’ll go very far with it, but…maybe.”

He smiles, blushing as he says, “I saw you had a poetry book in your room.” 

You laugh, sitting on the bench and waiting for him to do the same. “Yeah, I’m trying to see if poetry is more of my speed.” You sigh, turning to him again. “I have so many ideas and they aren’t lengthy enough to write a story so I thought I should try something else and see if that helps kinda clear my mind–” You sigh, looking down at your fingers and picking at your nails. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Frankie can’t help himself when he slides closer to you, his jeans catching on the worn-out wood of the bench before grabbing your hand to stop you. He doesn’t say anything as he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and then finally your lips. He can’t think about anything else besides your lips against his, how they are so soft and willing, how you smell of warm vanilla and spice– “Do you…” He doesn’t know why he pulled away, his thoughts all over the place and his body struggling to catch up. “Do you want to come to my place? Watch a movie?”

Your nod is all the reassurance he needs to know he’s not out of his depths. 

Being with Frankie today was a whirlwind of surprises. The helicopter tour, the favorite spot to eat that you noticed he tried to be nonchalant about but knew he would have been crushed if you didn’t like it. The walk around the pond, all the way to holding your hand while he drove quickly back to his apartment.

When he kissed you it felt like he couldn’t help himself; that his attraction for you was the same as how you felt about him, and that it was bound to happen. He asked in the truck about more of your poetry, and if you thought you would stick with it after you said it hadn’t been that long of you trying, and your heart soared at his interest. 

No other guy you had ever been with had been really all that interested in your interests. Not that they had to, but the effort of asking was new for you. 

Frankie had led you into his apartment, smiling at you as you passed him through the doorway. He was quick to shut the door and wrap his arm around you, making you do a quick turn around to see what he was doing and launch into a kiss. Your fingers were quick to shove up into his hair, curls wrapping around them so easily, his hat falling somewhere on the floor as he led you backward. 

God, it was so easy.

Easy to fall back on his comforter, bouncing with a giggle as he laughed with you. Easy to lean back into another kiss as he quietly asked “Is this okay?” before unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs. The way he looked up at you, wide brown eyes blown out with a need you couldn’t place, made your spine tingle with want of your own. It was easy to reach for his pants, shoving down his jeans and boxers in one swoop and letting his hardened length slap against his lower stomach. 

It was easy to lean forward and lick up the shaft to the head, watching his hands clench in surprise. “Fuck, sweetheart–” He groaned, pulling at your shirt to lift it off of you. 

You pulled away long enough to help him, yanking him to kneel on the bed beside you. As you reattached your lips to his weeping head, a pearl of precome touching your tongue and making you sigh in delight, he lifted his own shirt off of him and exposed his bare chest, flushed with adrenaline. 

His hair was wild from removing his shirt in haste, jaw slacks as he watched your mouth over him, heaving heavily. You thought you could write poetry about this, maybe. 

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you off of him to lay flat on his bed. Frankie adjusts himself to lay next to you, turning on his side and chuckling. “If you keep your mouth on me, I don’t think I’ll last.”

You shrug, bringing a finger from the center of his chest down to his belly button. “I owe you for last time.” You smile, letting your eyes trail down to the tuft of hair below his belly.

Frankie pauses, eyebrows furrowing as his own hand glides down your torso. “You don’t owe me anything.” He grumbles, swirling his fingers lower to your clit and listening to you sigh. He’s tensed up, shaking his head. “Fuck–you’re so fucking pretty. Do you understand me?” He asks, dipping his fingers lower and pressing two into your entrance. “You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

When you don’t answer, Frankie pulls out his fingers, trailing them lightly down your thighs. You whine at the feeling, sticky and wet with your own arousal. “Frankie–”

“Tell me you understand.” He says lowly. He kisses your temple briefly, fingers still ghosting over your skin. “Say you don’t owe me anything, hermosa.”

He’s brought his fingers back to your center, slowly shoving his fingers into you again, curling them against that spot you struggle to find yourself, pulling them out and circling your clit. Over, and over he does this, mouth open and breathing heavily over the side of your face. “I d-don’t–” You reach for his arm, nails digging into his skin but he doesn’t let up. “Don’t owe y-you anything.” 

Frankie gives a cat-like smile, kissing your cheek and groaning. “Good girl, that’s it.” He pulls his fingers away from you, your hips bucking up to follow them. “Let me taste you, huh?” 

Dazed, you watch him move between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and spreading them apart. He groans again, leaning down to kiss the junction between your thigh and center. “I’ll come once, and you can come twice.” He mumbles, glancing up at you and smiling when your eyes widen. “Fair?”

You think about arguing with him–you really do. But the way he leans down and lets his tongue drag against your skin, leaving a blazing trail of want behind, you can’t think about why you would argue in the first place. 

He does the same that he had done with his fingers, his tongue trails down to your entrance, giving a gentle push inside you before retreating and sliding up to your clit. He circles it, lips wrapping around to provide some suction that makes you throw your head back with a moan. 

Frankie’s tongue is talented, and you weren’t really prepared for that. He groans at the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still. He pulls away enough to mumble out “You taste so sweet.” before diving back in, causing you to arch up into his mouth. His hand slides up your stomach to your chest, covering your breasts and giving a light tug to each nipple, and it is just about your tipping point. 

“Please, Frankie.” You whine, covering his hands with yours to keep him there, moving your hips with his tongue to chase the feeling he is providing. When you fall over the edge, shutting your eyes and chanting his name, you feel his moan vibrate through your center. 

When you come down, Frankie pulls away with a deep breath and a smile. “Alright?” He asks, sitting up and leaning over you, letting his lips trail over one nipple to see you shiver. The wetness from your center leaves a trail over your chest, cool in the air as he moves across your skin.

You breathe heavily, nodding your head at him as he looks up to you for confirmation. “Fuck, that was–” You cut yourself off, not able to figure out what it was beyond good. So good that you’re pretty sure you blacked out for a second. 

Frankie nips at your collarbone, smiling into your skin with a sigh. He pushes his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your clit making you shiver. “Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathing against your ear as his hips rut against yours again. 

You give a faint “Yes,” as he leans over to his nightstand, pulling out a foil pack and ripping it open with his teeth. He leans back to slide it on, looking at you with hooded eyes and red cheeks. When he leans back down, he presses his lips to yours, moaning at the feeling of you against him. He rests his forehead against yours, positioning himself to push into you, sliding in slowly. His eyes are on you, your face, watching for a reaction. He props himself up with his hands on either side of your head, letting you look down at his hips, his dick. You bite at your bottom lip, not realizing that it drove Frankie crazy until he took his thumb to pull it from your mouth, holding your face in his hand. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He groans out, fitting his hips flush against yours to just stay there, to feel you. “How are you this fucking tight for me, baby?”

You moan, moving your hips up to push against his. “Please, Frankie.”

He pulls away, holding you steady as he watches before sliding to the hilt into you again, setting a pace that is slow but powerful. You jolt across the sheets, his hand tightening at your jaw to try and keep you still, but he has to reach up to the headboard to support himself at just how forceful he is being. He moans your name, eyes closing in bliss at how you feel wrapped around him. “God, fuck–you’re so fucking good for me.” 

You reach your hand down to your clit, circling it as he continues to push into you, his eyes trailing down your form to your hand and watches you. The rise to this orgasm is much quicker, feeling your chest heat as you begin to breathe heavier than before. You reach your other hand up to Frankie’s shoulder, digging into the taunt muscle. “Frankie–”

“It’s okay, that’s it.” He mumbles, leaning his forehead on yours again. “Be a good girl for me? Come all over my cock baby.”

He continues to quietly encourage you, your nails digging in at the feeling of your orgasm again, eyes shutting in pleasure. It feels like your ears are ringing, a muffled sound of Frankie’s labored breaths fucking you through it, chasing his own high. 

“I’m so fucking close.” He breathes, leaning up and changing his position. He sits straight, hands securing onto the dip in your hip to pull you towards him. His jaw is tight, teeth gritting against each other as he tries to hold on just a bit longer, practically growling out at the feeling. When he comes his jaw drops, watching your centers connect together over and over and the smallest whimper escapes his mouth at the sight of your center squeezing his. 

You’re both breathing heavily, watching him through sleepy eyes as he pulls out, removing the condom and tying it off with skilled fingers. He steps out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth and a small smile. He looks a little embarrassed, bringing the cloth down to your chest where he kissed you after eating you out, trailing down to your center and gently wiping. You bring your hand down with his, stopping him. “I didn’t mean to bring you to my bed first,” Frankie admits, resting his other hand on your leg with a small chuckle. 

You smile, pushing your hair out of your face and sitting up. “We can still watch a movie if you want to.” 

Frankie tosses the rag into the laundry basket he has by the closet, kneeling on the bed again so that you’re at eye level with his neck as you sit, his hands coming around the base of your head and petting your hair back. “Of course I want to.” He says quietly, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Spend as long as possible with you if I can.”

You smile at him, adjusting to bring your feet to the edge of the bed and slide off. When you stand you stretch, unknowingly putting on a show for Frankie as you lean down to find your underwear, sliding it up your legs. He goes for your shirt, pulling it out of your reach, grabbing his own, and offering it to you. You furrow your brow, placing your hand on your hips and asking the silent question of why. “I like seeing you in mine.” He blushes, pulling you toward him when you try to grab the shirt out of his grasp. 

You laugh, leaning down to kiss him again. “Fine by me.” You conceded, letting him help you put on his shirt, it brushes the underside of your ass and covers the tops of your things. His fingers reach forward to your hip and slide down to your leg where you mentioned you had a scar. He finds it quickly, giving it a light circle with his thumb before he pulls back and examines it. 

Your heart flutters at the sentiment-that he listened, he remembered, he sought it out. You’re lost in your own thoughts when he looks back up to you, a smirk growing on his face. “Should we find another Heath Ledger movie to watch?” He asks, watching you. 

You smile at him, nodding your head. “Yeah, maybe.” 

[bozoswozo]

Just finished rewatching Death Note, and though it’s completely for my personal pleasure and I would doubt if anyone would read it from start to finish, it’s rant time! *spoilers alert*

First of all, woah. The second watch was truly an experience. Everyone is always talking about ‘I wish I could rewatch … for the first time again.’ and though I’d usually agree, I don’t for Death Note specifically. I don’t really understand why, but in my second watch had a way bigger impact on me than my first. Maybe because I watched it for the first time 4 years ago and I’ve grown now, with different opinions.

ONE THING THAT DIDN’T CHANGE IS MY DISLIKE TOWARDS LIGHT‼️

This being said, the ending where he tried to run away from the police, wounded, made me feel kind of sad for him. He wanted to do good, sure. But after all, anyone who uses bad to solve bad is as bad as the bad they’re trying to solve. Evil cannot be used to fight evil :P

I understand his point of view (somewhat) but I still dislike him. How are you going to watch this man commit genocide, lead his father to his death and feel no remorse, consider killing his sister to save himself (again, no remorse), lead on the angel that is Misa in a cruel way, kill L and Mello (their deaths are enough for me to dislike him but I needed to give more reasons :3) etc etc and still root for him?

Again, no shade to Light lovers. To each their own :P.

Moving on. When I first watched Dn, I was only attached to L. And so, seeing him get killed off and be replaced by Near sparked in me a deep hatred towards that boy. But maturing is realising that Near is the third best character in the show (Right after L and Mello) and that he’s a cutie pie.

And he’s also extremely smart. Correct me if I’m wrong but before L died, he mentionned that if something were to happen to Watari, that he’d erase all the data. That means that Near had none of the informations that L had collected during his investigation.

That also means that he was able to conduct those researches by

1. Not having Light around to examine his attitude or lock him up illegaly

2. No knowledge of what had happened before L’s death

3. He was nowhere near as experienced as L when it came to solving cases (I think…)

He still was able to arrive to the same conclusion as L though, as he mentioned, it wouldn’t have been possible without Mello :)

I also happened to think about Ryuk a lot more and I think he’s the funniest character. My guy dropped his notebook into the human world because he was bored and he landed on a boy who wanted to become God of the new world. And he just went along with it, giggling every now and then. We never truly got a glimpse of his internal monologue, so we don’t know if he agreed with Light or not.

One thing we know, though, is that he sure was amused…

Light is almost as funny. Think about it. If you got a notebook that could kill people, you’d probably get rid of it (I hope so) or AT LEAST ponder on what you would do with it, or if you’d even use it. If you’re a sane human being, your first instinct would be to ‘No way! I could never kill anyone!’.

But Light wasted no time. In only one episode he went from a privileged, smart man to an absolute deranged killer, and that’s hilarious. He didn’t even think about it twice. It’s like he just had a psychotic side to him that just had to wait for the perfect moment to be released.

Also, I knew Matt didn’t have much screen time. But when I rewatched it I noticed that he really DID NOT HAVE ANY! Like they barely add up to thrirty seconds and that sucks cuz he was so cool.

Speaking of cool, MELLO!

He’s so cool like everything about him, his hair his scar HIS STYLE, his aura EVERYTHING. AND I feel like we tend to forget that he is SMART! Like he is smart enough to have been considered a good successor to L and thats crazy to me. It’s sad we didn’t get to fully experience his smartness though.

Same goes for Near. Though it is stated somewhere (I don’t remember where) that he is a little bit smarter than L (but L has a lot more experience, something that cannot be overlooked), I feel like most of the conclusions he’s made appeared from thin air. Did I just not pay attention?

Because at least with L we could see his train of thoughts, his way of thinking and we understood why he came to all those conclusions and decisions.

But with Near it just feels…rushed. (or maybe I js didn’t pay attention…) Like wdym you found that out…It feels like he was more guessing than discovering. Kinda sucks bc he is allegedly smarter than L and I would’ve loved to see it more.

Anyway,

I finished ranting. If you’ve read all this then woah pls get a life (in a nice way <3) .

Death Note amazing anime, amazing openings, amazing aesthetic, amazing characters, AMAZING EVERYTHING‼️

[ivysangel]

wally’s death was the first character death that i ever experienced from a character that i LOVED. like i was crushed and i cried so hard my mom thought someone actually died so i understand your pain!! and when they did the kind of flashback thing in season 3 where dick was hallucinating about being robin with the team and wally was back while fighting on granny goodness’s ship??? the writers were SICK for that!!

also dinah mentioning the sanctuary part at the end of season 4 is supposed to be how wally comes back but i don’t see how cause in the comics he’s stuck in the speedforce but the writers say there is no speedforce?? which why not??

the time jump was the dumbest thing i’ve ever seen cause why??? we missed tula joining the team and then dying, we missed kaldur discovering who his real father is and going to the light’s side (even if it was just undercover), we missed dick becoming nightwing, and we missed ALL of jason. don’t get me wrong cause i love tim and i wanted to see him as robin too but jason is such an important part of tim and dick’s stories so what gives??

and the writers are especially sick for how they did wally and artemis!! cause why tease us with them for the whole season, finally give us spitfire in the last episode of season 1, then have their ENTIRE relationship off screen, and then they kill wally?? we really got no time with them!! like spitfire is arguably the best couple on the show even if the writers clearly do favor connor and m’gann. especially m’gann and i love her but why was dick barely in season 4???

i don't think i cried when wally died bc i'm p sure i spoiled it for myself but i was still GUTTED. me and one of my friends who also watched yj have talked about it so many times. she actually stopped after he died and said she wouldn't continue the show unless they brought him back. i think dc knows what young justice fans want i just don't think they gaf bc that have quite literally not implemented a single thing that fans have REALLY asked for. you'll say "we want wally back!!" and they'll be like "ohhh okay let's remind everyone that he's dead and literally nobodies truly recovered!!!"

also, once again, FUCK that five year time jump. the young justice writers' room utilized the FUCK out of time jumps like every season has at least one or two??? mid-season they'll be like "1 year later" WHAT??? but like i said, nothing is worse than that five year time jump between s1 and s2 because five years is such a long time, especially because the team were practically babies at the beginning. they had so much potential and then the show just jumped to them as adults and a whole new team.

i also fully hate that they introduced rocket in the second to last episode or smth and pretty much benched her as a superhero for the entire rest of the show, i do not understand that decision AT ALL.

and yes, the fourth season being advertised as a season about the og team only for it to be so heavily m'gann and conner centric was so…i did enjoy that we finally got some real zatanna screen time but ugh god i wish it was with the team. like i don't really know how to explain it or if this even makes sense, but even though the show is about a team i feel like we barely get to see the team do actual team stuff like they used to. it feels like a lot of solo plotlines that happen to be going on in the same show with coincidental correlation.

also i think it might've been season 4? maybe 3? but WAY TOO MANY CUTS TO VANDAL SAVAGE'S LIFE STORY. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.