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Staying alive - Dante and his s/o
It works, you can't tell me otherwise!
Devil May Dance - Stayin' Alive, by Bee Gees
Pairing: Dante x Reader
Summary: Oh, hellish imps. One of your least favorite demons. It doesn't help that they managed to chain you to a chair at the local Disco - luckily, Dante will surely be there to save the day. And to dance.
Author's Note: I friggin' love this song, thanks so much anon for throwing this with Dante here, it works like a charm!! I almost screamed when I saw it xD My mom is a HUGE Bee Gees fan, so I listen to their songs all the time since I was born hahahaha
I've been writing this one since you guys sent me the songs, but as I mentioned before, my health got in the way as always. I'm managing my energy and a bunch of personal issues that appeared the last couple of months, so I decided to finish this one and focus on the Halloween specials of this year! Fret not, though. I'm keeping all your suggestions and I'll write them - it's just gonna take longer than I expected "^^ Also, there's a throwback here to a very special Devil May Dance, hope you guys like it!
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Well, out of all the situations you could have found yourself in, that would be your most unexpected one.
It was a stupid mistake, really. A step in a wrong place, a weaker grip on your sword, a miscalculated attack from an enemy. When you least expected, there you were, caught by a bunch of hellish imps, tied to a chair on the local Disco in town, of all places.
With the imps, well, imping around as all those annoying little creatures used to do.
They were one of your least favorite types of demons, that you had to be honest with yourself.
“You know, if you keep doing that, you’re gonna end up breaking it, stupid little thing.” You said with a sigh, head boringly held by one of your hands.
“Says the big bad devil hunter tied to a chair!” The imp taunted back, still smacking the amplifier. You could kick it into oblivion and make it fly to the next country without a plane, but with those chains you were really useless. You sighed again.
“That’s an amp, you buffoon. Its purpose is to amplify sound, if you want something to happen, you have to put some music on, jerk.” Yes, Vergil’s vocabulary got to you – then again, the best way to describe those demons was ‘buffoon’. Vergil’s colorful vocabulary did have a purpose.
“Blah blah blah – talking too much for someone in your situation!” The room exploded in a bunch of high-pitched devilish laughs and you could only roll your eyes.
“Honestly, I hope that thing breaks and electrifies you. That will serve you as a lesson, you moron.”
As if words had power, the thing immediately broke on the hellish imp hands and sent a wave of electrifying shock through its body – making it shake viciously and drop the thing immediately as it fell to the ground with the tongue sticking out of the mouth and mumbling something while unconscious. The other imps stared at you as you smiled with pride – as if you had actually done something.
“Told ya.” You perked on your chair, looking as proud as you could in that situation. Your weapons were tossed on the other side of the room – and you had already gone through the suffering of watching those buffoons playing around with your stuff until they got bored. “Keep messing around and you’ll all end up dead by stupidity.”
Suddenly, a very well-known bass line started playing – followed by a guitar, a set of lights dancing around the club and the colorful squares on the ground starting their own choreography. You raised one eyebrow, trying to understand what was going on and, really, why the Disco started functioning all of a sudden.
“WOOOHOOOOOO!!!!” Until you saw an imp at the sound booth, messing with a bunch of wires, spinning on one of the office chairs – that definitely didn’t belong to the DJ.
Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around Since I was born
Well, well, there it was. Stayin’ Alive. Quite fitting, if you had to say, given your situation. Quite ironic too – and if Destiny really was a humanoid entity, you wanted to have a serious talk to it, because why in all hells it had to be joking around with you that much?
“And now it’s alright, it’s ok, and you may look the other way…” You started muttering the lyrics, lightly tapping your foot on the colorful ground. If that song didn’t remind you of your red devil, you didn’t know what would.
Smiling to yourself, you forgot the imps for a while. You could almost see Dante at the Devil May Cry, barefoot on a lazy Saturday, dancing around the floor of the shop while you giggled at his huge desk. He had some great moves and was definitely showing off now that he had someone to dance to – you were reading, comfortably settled on his big chair, until the jukebox started playing Bee Gees and Dante couldn’t stop himself from dancing.
You didn’t last long with your book though: your red devil grabbed your hands, leading you to the center of the shop; your very own dance floor. You never really talked much about that with Dante, but you were quite certain he didn’t have many opportunities to go out dancing and have fun – even if he was the most fun-loving guy you had ever met in your life. He was a Sparda, after all, and you knew how much Dante avoided being around people so he wouldn’t put them in any sort of danger. You could almost see him dancing alone at the Devil May Cry for so many years – probably watching Saturday Night Fever on that sorry old television of his, copying Travolta’s moves and learning it all only to have fun… By himself. But now, he had a partner to share that with – and you could see in the brightness of his smile how much Dante enjoyed it.
Both of you waited a whole lifetime to start enjoying the things you had dreamed about for so long.
You snapped out of your golden memories, though, when you heard a shot and a loud sound of something falling on the ground. Furrowing your brows, you looked to the other side of the room and, lo and behold, those hellish pestering things were messing with your stuff again while prancing around to the sound of disco music.
That was something you never thought you would see in your life.
“Oi, put that down! You’ll end up breaking it!” You pointed at the imps joking around with your guns, but they only made funny faces and flipped you back as a response. You just stared at them with contempt in your face, having almost no expression but a very annoyed one. “I swear, I’m gonna hang you all by your feet when I get rid of these shackles, you fucking clowns.”
Among the laughs and the music, though, another shot rang outside the club. No one really cared about it, until the door burst open because the imps outside were yeeted in – flying through the dance floor while screaming, stamping the wall of the stage right across the club and leaving a trail of blood on it as it fell dead to the floor.
Looking at the door, you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile. Bathed in the dancing lights of the Disco, Dante strutted in – sword resting on his shoulders, arms open while his free hand held one of his guns.
“Ey, you guys started the party without me?” He stopped after taking a few steps in, illuminated by the twinkling lights on the floor and the ceiling – that cocky smile plastered on his lips.
Oh, you loved that man. So much. How couldn’t you?
“Wouldn’t call this a party when I can’t dance.” You showed him your foot chained to the chair – and you could see in those sky-blue eyes, a sort of compassion mixed with love and a little bit of pity; crowned by his endeared but still convinced smile.
“No worries, babe, your man’s here to help you.” With a wink, Dante skillfully glided through the dance floor, shooting some imps on the way. They tried to block the man, but he swept the floor with the demons with a swift move from his sword, back to his shoulder with a flowy movement. “Got the wings of Heaven on my shoes, I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose!”
You had to laugh at how happy Dante looked while gliding his feet on the colorful squares on the ground, spinning around to hit a couple more imps who tried to get to him. Facing you, Dante winked one more time, now keeping his sword on place and dual wielding Ebony and Ivory.
One step to the right, a shot at a flying imp. One step to the left, a shot at another devil who tried to run towards him. Keeping the groove, Dante spun again doing his old trick of shooting around the club and hitting multiple enemies at once – you ducked and covered your head, still laughing at his antics. Spinning his guns in his hands, Dante coordinated his steps, the beat of the song and the shots being fired.
Ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive – and a little pause for a choreography as he faced you, as if Dante was putting on a show for you only.
“Woohoo, get ‘em, cowboy!” You had to. Dante usually had fun while fighting, but not like he was having today – it’s not like it was a difficult or life-threatening fight, so he could afford being a lot more playful and goofy.
And you had to love goofy Dante.
A couple more shots, and the imps surrounding him were all but stunned, laying on the floor while recovering for the next round. So, Dante did what he did best.
“Stayin’ aliiiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeeeee…” Singing out loud, shaking his hips, and pointing around only to finish the phrase pointing at you.
And of course, he had to be even more over the top. As the demons got up from the floor – helping each other, fighting each other, trying to stand and walk a straight line – Dante started to walk towards you in the rhythm of the song, shaking his hips with every step only to accentuate even more every beat, as if he was a cowboy who had just laced you and now was approaching his bounty.
“Pffffft, you’re ridiculously campy, cowboy…” You couldn’t help but slightly flush, hiding your face on the hand you previously leaned on while completely bored. Well, you couldn’t say you were bored anymore.
“Guilty of all charges, sheriff!” As he approached, one imp tried to get him from behind only to be kicked on the face and thrown into oblivion by Dante’s strength in the process – those sky-blue eyes never left you, though, as well as the playful smile on his lips. “You can arrest me and throw away the key!”
“Hmmm, I might keep these chains then. Maybe I can tie you to our bed when we get home.” You had to tease him back, or it wouldn’t be you and Dante. You saw a sparkle of both fun and desire inside his eyes, as Dante let out a delighted laugh – and kicked another demon on the face.
“Ha! Now that…!” And he had to let the choreography down for a couple of seconds to turn around and shot a few more demons – spinning his dual guns in his hands before doing so, and once more to put them back into their place – but quickly turning back to you; resting one of his hands on the back of your chair, leaning down so his eyes would be leveled to yours. “Is somethin’ I’d love to try, sheriff. You can tie me up and love me any day, sugar.”
You would’ve quipped back if Dante hadn’t used his free hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a quite loving kiss – given the situation you found yourselves into. The demons were still trying to get back in shape, now that some of them had run away and some others were still insisting on keeping the Disco to themselves, but with Dante around… You didn’t have to care about demons that much.
“First, let’s cut you lose, shall we?” He still had that playful tone in his voice as he let go of your lips, but as Dante kneeled on the floor to see the shackles, his eyes turned to you with nothing but care in them. “Be careful, Imma cut it down, ok?”
You nodded with certainty and kept your feet together, straining the chains as much as you could so Dante could easily cut it with his sword and not fear hurting you in the process.
“And… You’re set free, babe.” Of course, he had to use that sultry tone he always did whenever he decided to use Lucifer or Faust while sparring with you.
And you would’ve paid more attention to that, if it wasn’t for your sheer and rather intense joy of being cut from those chains.
“Ah, freedom, at last!” You got up in a jump, making him laugh with how happy you were. “Now! Who’s the first one I’m gonna hang from the ceiling, huh?!” You had your hands on your hips, staring at the imps with such a deranged fire some of them actually screamed in terror and tumbled away, flying for their lives through the smashed door.
“Will ya look at that!” Dante clapped while laughing, watching as only a few demons remained to try to stand their ground. “I’ve never seen you scaring so many demons at once!”
“See? I’m learning!” You proudly strutted towards your gear on the other side of the room, mirroring the little show Dante put on for you before. He just stood there, hands on his hips, gladly watching you dance. “Gotta thank Vergil for being such a great example!”
“Oh, bet he’s gonna love hearing that!” With a laugh, Dante punched an imp who tried to get him by surprise – now flying away to hit another couple of demons who inadvertently tried to follow. “But hey, keep on shakin’ those hips like that, hot stuff, I might have to one up ya.”
You let out a mischievous giggle in response, now feeling even more motivated to let yourself loose on the dance floor. While checking your guns – making sure they were in one piece, all bullets where they should be, no damages – you kept moving to the rhythm, singing the lyrics you knew so well.
Dante crossed his arms, gladly watching the show you were putting on – now casually hooking your guns to your holsters and moving to check on your sword. The imps gathered together, blabbering around like screeching minions, preparing a supposedly devastating attack with all their forces combined to bring both of you down – but Dante couldn’t care less. He had a delighted smile on his lips, arms still crossed and tapping one of his feet on the floor to the beat of the song, barely holding himself still.
He guessed his lifetime of bad luck was to compensate for the one moment in his life where you appeared – out of nowhere, in the middle of a job, covered in demon blood and spite. That was the luckiest Dante had ever been and he could see that happening as all the luck he never really had.
Who could’ve guessed that after all that hell that he called his existence you out of all people would find him – and see him? Someone with a heart of gold, a soul of steel, a spirit like fire and kindness like water; who would challenge him but also complement him in all the perfect ways Dante could have never imagined.
Watching you dancing while strapping your sword on your back like he always did, turning around to wink at him and shake your hips from side to side to the beat of the song, raising your arms above your head and closing your eyes while smiling… You were better than any dream. You were his partner, his sheriff, his lover. He only wished he could’ve had an entire lifetime with you in it.
“Hoo, is it me or it’s gettin’ hotter in here, babe…?” With those words from his lips, you opened your eyes once more, trying to read what he was about to do when Dante took his sword from its holster and left it on a table.
“Dante…!” You immediately widened your eyes as he started stripping off his coat while making the most obnoxious and campy stripping dance you could have ever seen.
“What…?” Of course, being the man he was, Dante feigned innocence. You just pointed back at him – blushing like the first layers of Hell, but with a radiant smile on your lips. Honestly, he lived just to see that sight every time you decided to grace him with it. Dante would never tire to see you smile so genuinely.
“There are hellish imps here, red devil. Have some decorum.” Again. Vergil’s vocabulary had its purpose – and when it came to his twin brother, you had to admit colorful words were the best you could do to try to voice some of your exasperated feelings.
“Oh, you thinkin’ I’m gonna take it all off?” Dante pointed at himself with his free hand, his coat hanging on the other hand. He let out a hearty laugh right after. “Ha! You are gonna have to work for that, sheriff!”
You had to fall into a fit of laughter as Dante started spinning his coat on the air only to throw it away dramatically, going back to his best Saturday Night Fever dance. You didn’t know if you wanted to melt through the floor into oblivion from embarrassment or if you wanted to get into the challenge. Therefore, laughing was the only choice available, really.
You had to note, though, that the embarrassment only came from having an audience – you could still hear the imps arguing and wondered if they would end up killing each other in disagreement – because if you were both alone at the Devil May Cry… Dante would have the dance-off of a lifetime after that taunt.
“Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” You decided, even if feeling a little awkward, to mirror Dante’s dancing – pointing at him while singing, finally strutting towards your red devil.
You had your whole life to kill demons – dancing with your lover, though, was a lot more important in your book.
“Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’, and we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” Dante pointed back at you, ready to meet you in the middle. Those lyrics, though, they were quite fitting to both of you – with everything you had to go through on a daily basis, somehow, you always remained alive. Together.
There was some kind of poetry in that. At least in Dante’s point of view.
As the famous riff sang its lyrics, you finally reached each other, starting a perfectly synchronized choreography you both invented during a boring afternoon at the shop – which ended up being not so boring after all. With you dancing while perfectly mirroring him, Dante couldn’t help but have the brightest and most delighted smile on his lips – his face lighting up like the sun, barely noticing he was laughing from enjoying that moment.
The most mirroring he ever got was from a shadow doppelganger at the Temen-ni-gru – and that thing was hell bent on killing him with his own powers and tricks. Now dancing? That was a first. Something he had only seen on movies like Footloose or Grease, something he thought he would only have in the realm of daydreams. Oh, how he loved turning those into reality with you.
“Ready…” Of course, you both were very much aware you weren’t alone - the imps weren't as subtle as they thought they were. Your lives were made mostly of stolen moments like that, but it was something you would never complain about. Better to have those moments than to have nothing at all – and the imps were about to steal it away from you. Looking into those sky-blue eyes, you saw Dante’s typical spark and his smart smile on his lips, winking at you as soon as he understood what your eyes were saying. “NOW! ATTACK!”
“I’m stayin’ alive!” You and Dante sang out loud – if you could call that kind of shouting singing – as you spun on the colorful floor, taking one of your guns from your holsters. You ended up with your backs to each other, your arm by his arm, pointing the guns at the demons at the same time. “Let’s rock!”
The imps expected everything but the rain of bullets. They planned a massive attack, all of them at the same time, and still you and Dante made their forces seem like nothing but a wave of hungry mosquitoes during summer – and that because you were each holding only one of your guns.
They could barely get near you before realizing they wouldn’t be able to make it in one piece. The attack was a failure and the best option they had – for those left alive anyway – was to run. You and Dante kept shooting, hitting bullseye with every quick shot. They first screamed as a battle roar, but now they screeched in terror, fleeing from every broken door and window of the Disco – until there were only you and the red devil left.
“Well, guess we showed ‘em a lesson.” You sighed, relief washing down your spine while you put your gun back into its holster. Dante did the same, but you barely waited for him to look back to you. “Thanks for the rescue, cowboy. It was worthy of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out For a Hero.”
“Ah, don’t mention it…” But you cut his dismissive words short with a kiss.
It was intended to be a quick kiss – the types of kisses you would always use to shut him up whenever Dante started self-deprecating or playing down how much he was worth – but soon you wanted more. Stepping closer to him, you didn’t let his lips go, resting your hands on his chest while Dante, even if surprised at first, immediately laid his on your hips. The song was still going, and you both still had the fire to keep dancing, but you could take a few moments to enjoy that kiss with more heart than you intended at first.
You had every intention, though, to keep it going for as long as you could – Dante’s lips were too wonderful to be half-appreciated – but as Stayin’ Alive found its last chords, another song seamlessly started to let its golden beats and delightful guitar color the place with new rhythms and notes. Apparently, the DJ imp had figured out how to keep the whole collection of disco songs playing – and you couldn’t complain about that.
“Hey…” You parted the kiss abruptly, mirroring Dante’s smile from also recognizing the song. “It’s our song, cowboy!”
You held Dante’s hand, pulling him even further into the dance floor, while he let his head hang back with a laugh at the words he never thought he would hear in that damned life of his. Stepping closer to you, he spun you around only to catch you in his arms, dancing together the same way you used to dance at the Devil May Cry – you both giggling and singing to each other.
“Do you remember? The 21st night of September?” Oh, yes. September. The song that wrapped you both in golden dreams and shiny days – the song Dante would always run to you to have you in his arms while singing, the one you would always search his hands to hold while dancing. The one Dante never thought he would be able to have with someone else.
Dante couldn’t have another entire lifetime with you, but he could have that one – and even better than that: you could have that song together. Your song.
He could get used to the sound of that alright.
#devil may cry#devil may cry imagine#dmc#dmc imagine#dante x reader#dante imagine#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc fanfiction#dmc dante#dante sparda#I LOVE THIS MAN YOUR HONOR#seriously every time I write Dante I end up a giggling mess for days#oh to find a man with those vibes#also yes the 'motivated to dance' is a Vergil reference#and September is officially Dante's and his s/o song in this blog now#another thing I want to point out#you guys know I'm not primarily english speaking my native language is portuguese#I cannot stress ENOUGH how 'rhythm' is such a difficult goddamned little bitch of a word to write for me#I had to copy and paste to write it here#just wanted to let you guys know#even so I can't help but to think I'm gale of waterdeeping with the colorful vocabulary every time I speak english :')
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Sueños de piedra (ch1)
Okay, I promised (to myself) to check out whatever media won the ultimate obscure blorbo tournament ( @who-do-i-know-this-man (I wasn't sure whether to tag you or not but in the end I figured I might as well, hope you don't mind I guess))
Turns out that it's a guy from a 2015 Spanish YA fantasy book
And turns out there's a free sample available! Which is lucky for me because I'm currently very broke
Sueños de piedra by Iria G. Parente and Selene M. Pascual
I don't speak Spanish so I'm gonna rely on the translator quite a lot lmao (well I understand some Spanish actually, but definitely not enough to read a whole book)
The title translates to something like "Dreams of Stone" I think?
Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, a prince rewarded a wizard for helping rescue a young girl in trouble. Charming. Too bad none of this is true. In reality, the prince dreams of glory and revenge; the magician, with her spells not always being a disaster and the young woman in trouble, with fleeing from a past that torments her... and from the memory of the man she has killed. Once upon a time...
(Yes this is just Google Translate, sorry)
Okay so, prince, magician and a damsel in distress? Prince wants revenge for something, who knows what, magician is having trouble doing the magic, and the damsel is in fact a killer? Ok ok
The dedication goes as follows:
To all those who embark on a direct journey towards their dreams every day. May you always reach your destination.
Okay so Marabilia is a place? That's apparently also the name of this book series. Is this like the kingdom then? So it consists of three islands, two small ones and one big? Or is it supposed to be a continent? It definitely seems too small to be a continent
I know the blorbo is called Arthmael de Silfos so I'm guessing he's from the Silfos area in the north of the big island then. I can see what's probably a city called Duan and a forest called "Merlon Forest". We also have different towers around the big island, one of which seems to be called the Tower of Black Magic. (I didn't even need to use the translator for those yay xD)
Okay the first chapter is called Arthmael so I guess we're meeting our blorbo already, which is nice
— Let me make it clear: are you going to give my crown to a bastard?
Okay..... the very first line and I already think Arthmael might be a bit of a spoiled brat (I assume he's in fact the prince)
Apparently Arthmael just found out that he has an illegitimate older brother but I guess this brother's mother is noble anyway so it's legit? I dunno yet. Arthmael thinks this guy is blackmailing his father somehow and is already considering poison as a solution
And anyway, what kind of a name is Jacques for a king?
lmao, so much shade to all the kings called Jacques
Okay so Jacques's family is very powerful and loved by the people of Silfos and the king fears a civil war if he disrespects his claim to the throne. Alright. Kinda weird since based on Arthmael's thoughts, this society has a similar attitude to bastards as in European history, but okay then. I wonder if Jacques is even actually the king's son or is this some kind of a ruse?
Arthmael is very cheeky and even references his dad's love life directly to his face, his dad is not very happy
The king tells him to just be a good boy and hopefully they'll find him some crown princess to marry so he'll get a kingdom that way
I guess these different areas on the map are kingdoms then, that makes sense. They look like very small kingdoms but this is a small place in general.
Arthmael doesn't seem to mind this idea except that there's only one possible princess like that in Marabilia and that's Ivy de Dione. Not sure what's wrong with her.
Well, who knows? Maybe, if I wait a few moons, some other bastard, in Verves or Idyll, will come out from under a rock and come offer me her hand.
Somebody's very snarky, that's cute
Arthmael is very haughty about how the people have always known him as the crown prince and accepted him as such, Jacques laughs and asks what has he even done for the people. He's like well he hasn't really done much yet because he was planning to do things once he became king, but he's been supporting the local business (taverns) and employing servants (lmao). Also apparently there are some girls he's seeing...
Apparently Jacques's family are big traders and business people (despite being noblemen) and create lots of jobs, and also big on charity, so everybody loves them
Arthmael is jealous of how proud his dad looks when Jacques says this, and how he's never looked at him like that
Well, I guess you're kind of a little shit so it makes sense, Arthmael
— If the smartest thing is to become the idol of a few starving people in order to be king, I can do it too.
Oh my god, this little brat
He declares that he's going to be a hero, to overshadow the charity of Jacques' family, because heroes are remembered by history while philanthropist aren't
So he plans to become a storybook Prince Charming, saving damsels in distress etc.
Jacques finds this understandably hilarious, the king is not amused
Once Jacques leaves, the king again offers to arrange a marriage to Arthmael, specifically with the princess of Dione
I'm almost tempted. I have never been to Dione, but they say that their ships are the lightest and fastest, and that sailors come to their shores from the other side of the sea, speaking strange languages that only they understand. Who come from lands where women wear short dresses, if they wear anything at all. Places where war is so normal that, as soon as a child is strong enough to pick up a sword, they push him to the front lines.
Alright then, I see what he fixates on
Was there anything wrong with the princess then or?
Barbarians. I remove the thought from my mind.
Oh okay. What a charming young man /s
Dione is like right next to Silfos according to the map btw, is this like one of those neighbourly feuds?
Okay he says it's because he doesn't want a foreign kingdom, he wants to keep his home, which is fair I guess
The king is like what do you want me to do, kill Jacques and his pregnant wife? And Arthmael is just like yeah great idea, because he's a dumbass. The king is like wtf
Apparently Jacques' family is from that Duan city that I noted earlier, and his mother died a few days ago and apparently "her loss is greatly felt"
The king regrets spoiling Arthmael too much, and talks about how Arthmael doesn't understand anything about suffering or anything and only cares about girls
Arthmael is already considering faking his death to make them all feel sorry, because of course he is, he's exactly that kind of guy
He says he doesn't want to go try to charm the princess, he'd rather just go off on his own (also there's a whole bit about how only a man can rule Dione or something and the king of Dione won't accept his daughter to become a ruler)
His dad tells him no, just stay here and be a good boy, don't make everybody gossip about drama in the royal family
Arthmael is like hey you managed to hide your bastard son for years, you can hide my disappearance
They fight a bit more but then Arthmael just storms out, grabs a few things from his room and leaves
a change of clothes, a bag of coins, my sword, and my favourite cloak. I do not need anything else.
Okay then, good luck I guess
To be a hero you only need a brave heart. Or so they say.
I feel like you also need to not be a selfish prick but maybe that's optional
Okay end of first chapter!
Our blorbo seems like a real brat!
But I guess the point is probably that he needs to learn some lessons along the way, or something like that, idk. I'm sure there's a reason for why whoever entered him into the tournament likes him so much
I'm guessing the damsel in distress is not the princess? Probably? She wasn't called a princess anyway. TBH she's the character I'm currently the most curious about. The next chapter is from the point of view of someone called Lynne and I hope that's her. Could be the magician too though I guess? No wait, I think the magician is a guy. Altho idk maybe Lynne could be a guy's name, I don't fucking know.
I'm guessing that Arthmael will try to rescue the damsel so he can be a hero, because that's what heroes are supposed to do, but then it'll go wrong somehow? And then the magician will get involved somehow, I have no clue.
That's all my predictions I suppose. Altho I'm guessing that Jacques might turn out to be a villain somehow, I didn't get the vibe that he was particularly great either, just not as much of a brat as Arthmael, and it would then be something for Arthmael to do when he gets back home. Then again maybe the book will surprise me, who knows. To be honest, it would feel a bit like a cop out if it turns out that the guy he hates actually is evil, but it could be handled well, and it's not like I like Jacques either so far. He seems extremely sus too
No guesses as to what the title refers to yet, it could be anything
Idk, like I said, the damsel's storyline is the one that interests me the most rn, it might actually get me to read further (good job, blurb, you got me)
I still have a surprisingly good amount of the free sample left, there's actually nine chapters here, so idk, maybe I'll keep going? We'll see
I'm pretty happy with how much I was able to follow the text even on my own, altho I definitely had to rely on the translator. I would not have had the patience to try to translate all of this myself. But I definitely understood multiple full sentences! Yaaay xD
Apologies to fans of this book series, I hope I didn't seem too rude
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Comfort
Omg this is my first request! Poly relationship with the turtles request by @trtlegirl00
TW: a bit of sexual harassment, misogyny
Poly!turtles x fm!reader (Requested)
Work was hell - then again, it's always been hell.
This entire week, your boss has been on your back demanding 10 different tasks from you and scolds you infront of everybody when you haven't finished it. You tried explaining you were doing 4 tasks at once, staying overtime, and barely eaten anything and guess what he said to you?
"Not my problem." He said, with a SHRUG on his shoulders.
You were not tolerating his mistreatment anymore and did the unthinkable; you stepped hard on his foot and he yelped in pain, gasps around the office. Due to the mistreatment you and your colleagues went through, they all clapped.
"I'll see you in fucking court. And don't think I didn't miss you pinching my ass at last week's party. Perv." Then you left.
Despite all that, it just drains the life out of you realizing you're jobless. Fired, for sure. Getting sued? Absolutely.
You dragged yourself to the lair mindlessly. All you want were hugs right now.
"Hey, angel cakes is back!" Mikey saw you from the kitchen and ran to you, only to find you emotionless. Your hair was in a loose bun, your formal clothes unbuttoned and shoes removed, you holding it.
"Angel? What's wrong?" Mikey grew concerned.
That made you break. "I hate everything!" You bawled out of nowhere dropping everything in the process and hugged Mikey sobbing in his shoulder.
"Uhh guys!" Mikey called, catching 3 other turtles' attention.
"What happened?!" Leo asked in panic, holding you and inspecting you for wounds. He saw how messy you looked thinking you got harassed.
"Who hurt you, baby?" Raph held your crying face. "I'll kill 'em. How dare they hurt you like this?!"
"Calm down, you hothead," Donnie pushed the bigger turtle away and inspected you. Once he confirms you weren't physically hurt, he took off his goggles and stroked your hair. "She wasn't physically hurt. But there's something else here. What happened, love? Deep breaths."
You told them everything, which in between the guys slowly getting angry for you until the last part you mentioned your boss touched you in a dinner party:
Leo stopped blinking.
Raph broke a baseball bat he was holding-- which you didn't notice he was holding it. That was weird.
Donnie dropped his gadget.
Mikey gasped. Typical.
"I'm gonna kill him."
Now, people would expect this reaction from Raph, right?
Nope.
"Donnie wait calm down!" Mikey held onto Donnie's leg but the tallest turtle walked to the exit with ease.
"Put down that knife! Sensei used that to cut the fishes!" Leo exclaimed. Please, Leo. That isn't important right now.
"I'm goin' with ya, Don." That was Raph. Of course he's gonna join Donnie kill anybody who touched their s/o.
It took about 20 minutes to calm down your tallest boyfriend and he was still eager to murder your boss but he saw how exhausted you are, so he stopped and hoist you up in his arms, bringing you to the living room.
Your four boyfriends huddled up with you in the middle; two of them holding both of your hands, 1 was massaging your toes and 1 massaging your shoulders.
You'd rather be stuck down in the lair than being in the human world.
Money? You'll think of something.
Right now, you just want to be with your boyfriends.
I hope this was okay C: i'm sorry it took me almost a week to do your request; i'm actually a working lady xD i work 8-5 everyday and i'm tired all the time. i may have added a bit of my story inside. regarding this, stay safe at work or in public. report when you must and don't let any man tell you what's what.
#tmnt 2014 x reader#tmnt poly#tmnt 2016 x reader#tmnt bayverse#tmnt leo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey#tmnt x reader
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Art of Quill
Not Quin's art! Comms I've collected of my OC Quill.
In my ever increasing journey to get more comfy with my OC and my eventual OC/insert Story project, I've been getting art of Quill.
This is going to be a LONG LONG post cause I'm including art and tagging who I can tag.
Most of said art is by @yamiyamiart and as delightful as it is, it's not something I can post to tumblr XD
But I can share the Rayleigh x Quill one since it's merely suggestive xD 😇❤️ (And a Kid x Quill that I am pretty sure was the first thing I comm'd from Yami when I was still hesitant to throw my smutty ideas at someone)
Today I go an adorable piece by @aholepeach (who is that on bluesky and a_hole_peach on Twit). He pulled me in with his comics, and I love the kind of grimy soft vibe of his art.
(It's beautiful and skrunky - it has a weight to it that's present both in the body and the emotions, and I just really love it.)
Just look at it \o/ ❤️
@magnuspool also helped me out back before I even knew Quill was going to be named Quill. I had naught to give this art goddess by a handful of words and a very very smol idea.
I love everything about Mags, and the amount of nervousness I had approaching her for art would probably surprise a lot of you. She's super cool though, and a delight to work with. If you catch her comms open, don't be shy!
Polizon from twitter did a really great job with the composition on the request I had - aside from some direction on Quill I didn't provide any other references ^_^
I just love that they're both very much capable fighters AND researchers. (What can I say, Fullmetal Alchemist was one of my first absolute favorite animes and you have to train the body AND mind.)
Last, but by no means least, is @stevienix - who took a waist up Pic crew for reference and gave me a nice full body for Quill ^_^ (I cannot overstate how much I need those boots in my life.)
She's an IRL friend, we've broke bread together so show her some love, and be nice while you're there too.
@mew-ya was the first person to draw me Boy Mode Quill, and gods I love how it came out
@sylarcookie drew my OC Quill and did an AMAZING job - you should check her out, I love her style and how soft and warm all her work is.
add the birthday arts!
From @cebwrites Quill and Kirin sharing a drink and trading tales
@macbethsymphony who drew these amazing pieces - I love the smooch, but I really love the gender ambiguity of the pieces
@leftsidebonfire who drew her OC Unaek having a cute moment with Quill \o/
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Would you please consider doing Day 7 Sphinx for Kustard week + "Fuck. I'm so attracted to you right now." because now I'm picturing these two exchanging riddles but all the answers are puns XD You can go however you want with it though, I'm sure you could do something amazing with the prompt!
I am very happy to oblige this little bonus request UwU
Hope you like @mystery-fic-anon >:3c
DAY 7 - Sphinx + "Fuck. I'm so attracted to you right now."
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Sans sweated as he climbed the stairs that were way too tall for him.
He understood that the builders of these old ruins didn’t have the need of making this place friendly for his pretty smallish size but still, this was his definition of hell. He internally cursed the day he promised to be the one to check out these recently discovered ruins as part of the monster race ambassador squad. Strange things started happening all over the world, with unknown barriers that broke in multiple places at once, some full of unknown and new monsters, while others stayed still, like nothing existed there.
It was one of those places that stayed quiet that Sans took upon himself to explore. His shortcuts were perfect to get himself out of tricky and dangerous situations so he was the perfect monster for this job. Too bad he couldn’t use them to go straight to the entrance of each barrier opening since he had to visit the place at least once.
So now here he was, climbing some huge pain in his coccyx stairs and sweating buckets.
Hopefully the inside of the barrier would be less… stair filled.
As he ascended the last few stairs, his soul beat a mile a minute from the strain. He really needed a break, but the glaring heat of the afternoon sun made it unbearable to sit there for any length of time. So instead he decided to go into the entrance the barrier had freed and take a break in the inviting looking shade.
Unfortunately for him, the moment he stepped a few feet into the darkness something jumped him and knocked him back.
His skull hit the ground and the world spun in front of him.
He groaned and squinted his eyelights, trying to figure out if he could catch the plate number of the truck that hit him. Instead, what he saw made him think he actually fainted and was dreaming.
Looming over him was a monster, one that marginally resembled some old statues that he saw in an old civilization documentary.
The monster had four legs, though its front ones looked prehensile like they could function as hands. The bones vaguely reminded him of a big cat’s bones, a tiger or a lion, maybe? But the face that stared down at him was really similar to his own… except for its crimson eyelights and the very sharp looking teeth, one of which glinted a menacing gold.
A sphinx.
That’s what the monster reminded Sans of. An old mythical monster from old Egypt he heard about. But the ones he knew off were supposed to be fleshy, not look like a pile of hot bones like the one glaring down at him.
Sans tried to move to get the big monster off of him, but the sphinx only growled and pressed down a little more with its very very sharp claws.
With a gulp, Sans decided to try and talk his way out of this.
“uh, hey buddy?” Could this sphinx understand him? Would it bother replying or would it just eat him then and there.
He tried to remember any legends about sphinxes he knew, but his brain wasn’t cooperating. The climb, the heat, the hit to the back of his skull and the large monster pinning him down weren’t making it easy to think. Was it something about…… riddles?
“wha’ runs but n’ver walks, ‘as a bed but n’ver sleeps, an’ ‘as a mouth but n’ver speaks?” The deep guttural masculine voice of the monster above him made Sans flinch in surprise.
“uhhhh?” He just blinked up at the creature completely baffled.
Moments passed in silence when the sphinx snarled at him, teeth parting menacingly. “ya bett’r answ’r if ya don’ wanna be my lunch.”
“wait, what-?” Sans tried to stall for time while his non-existent brain caught up with the situation, only to be cut off with an even fiercer growl and drool dripping from the large parted teeth.
“okay, okay.” His brain ran a mile a minute trying to remember what the sphinx said. “runs but doesn’t walk, bed doesn’t sleep and… uhhh… mouth no speaking. right?”
With every word he let out the sphinx’s teeth came closer and closer, his growl making Sans’ ribs vibrate from its strength.
“a river!” He blurted out, the descent of the teeth and the growl pausing. “it’s quite the stream of consciousness:”
The sphinx's head shot back, sockets wide and teeth parted in an almost comical look of surprise. It would have been comical if it weren’t for the very shiny sharp teeth Sans couldn’t seem to stop staring at.
With a tilt of his head that would look cute on a less dangerous monster, the sphinx almost sing-songed the next riddle.
“wha’ com’s once in a min’te, twice in a mom’nt, but n’ver in a thous’nd years?”
Sans took a breath, thankful beyond belief for Papyrus’ short hyperfixation on riddles. This one was one of those he knew well.
“the letter m.” Sans spoke confidently as the sphinx continued to look at him expectantly. “... what? it’s a pretty timeless joke.”
Sans wasn’t sure if he saw right, but the sphinx’s crimson eyelights seemed to sparkle.
“da more ya play wit’ me, the ‘arder i get. wha’ am Ii?” Sans wasn’t sure but it almost looked like the sphinx was smirking at him.
“... a puzzle—always keeping your brain stimulated.” Just as the last word left his mouth, the sphinx sprang forward and Sans tensed. He was sure it would bite his neckbone in half.
Seconds passed and no pain shot through him. He gathered his guts and cracked a socket open, only to see the sphinx nuzzling his head into his sternum and under his chin. He stared in bafflement, what was-
“fuck. ‘m so attract’d to ya right now.”
Welp, seems Sans was in deeper trouble then he could have dreams off.
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Did Sans just pun his way into Red's heart? Why yes, yes he did UwU
Or more specifically, Sans literally punned his way into some very hot trouble. Hopefully his skilled tongue can get him out of it before Red decides Sans is his now XD
Hope you enjoyed :D
#Anonymous#kustardweek2024#KustardWeekRyu#SilverRyuWrites#SilverRyuFic#mywriting#fanfic#fanfiction#undertale#underfell#ut!sans#uf!sans#kustard#sanscest#kustardweek
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Doll!Chucky x Drunk!Fem!Reader x Freddy Krueger || Headcanons
*Set in the Horror House
Topic: Its a classic- you get drunk because you've had a sucky, sucky day. And you're just wondering by the house, barefoot and probably cold, when Chucky and Freddy see you and get you inside. (And... boy, does that sound threatening 😅 To be clear- this is mostly fluff XD )
(This can be read as romantic or platonic! Readers choice.)
Warnings: Characters who have no business ever being characterised as nice, being nice (In a way that I hope is still them 😅), Reader is sad and uses alcohol to numb themselves. (You're not depressed or an alcoholic though), and also the word 'bitch' is used quite a bit, I'm sorry 😅😅
Look if no one else is gonna write mindless, non-canonical fluff for these two shits then I WILL-
🍺 You're sitting on the porch swing with a blanket over your shoulders and Chucky in your lap, playing with his bright orange hair while Freddy lectures you- how did you get here??? This explanation is seemingly very simple.
🍺 Today was the first day of your life... it started out good, texting with Jennifer while you got ready for the day, but then you had a fight. Sure, you would both get over it tomorrow and you knew that, but it felt awful. Then your bus was late and so you were late to work, it was a busy busy day, your mood deteriorated... and finally you left early because you just felt that upset- which just made you feel worse, for missing work!
🍺 So you decided to go have a drink at a bar. That turned into 2... 3... then you were in a guy's lap and you lost your shoes. He was an ass, turns out, of course, and so the next thing you know--
🍺 You're strolling drunkenly, barefoot, down Jennifer's street sniffling and sipping a cheap wine straight out of the bottle. You just wanna see her- you think if she sees you so fucked up and sad then she'll stop being mad at you and... *sniffle*... give you some cuddles, and make you feel better after this hell day...
🍺 Oh, you hope she will. You need your best *hick* friend... *hick* please...
🍺 You're just wandering down the footpath, almost tripping a couple of times, when you hear fast footfalls behind you (Like boots) and a hand lands on your shoulder. You whip around, wide eyed, but relax immediately when you recognise Freddy's familiar form in your tipsy, dazed state. He's looking amused at you, and vaguely you think he must know that you're drunk, must have figured it out (He's clever ^^), because he waits for you to fully focus on him. Then with one blade he points downwards to your feet, letting you follow his gesture before talking.
🍺 "Princess I don't think you're supposed to leave the prince both shoes. If he cant findya with just one, I don't think you even want a dumbass prince like that."
🍺 "Hm?-... oh... I- I... it was hot... "
🍺 "Too hot for your shoes?" He looks bemused, but in your drunken state you think he's just concerned for you.
🍺 "Mhm... "
🍺 "... where are you going to, anyway?"
🍺 "Um, I- I-... " You start sniffling again, remembering where you were going and why you feel so so crappy- eyes immediately filling up with tears. "Oh. I, I was looking for- for Jen... We had a fi-ight, and I... I really needa see 'er... "
🍺 Freddy stares at you for a few moments- as much as he loves to see someone - anyone. especially something so fucking cute, like you, - crying like little bitch in front of him, something about this... doesn't sit right with him. After a moment of thought, he grows annoyed at his own lack amusement and twists you around and guides you back down the footpath again. "Well you're goin the wrong way. You go in this house, you'll find a bitch but she's asian, and she's gonna be real confused why you broke into her house late at night- c'mon. Lemme tell ya, jail aint for you."
🍺 He leads you to the right house - they all look the same in the dark!! you didn't know you were going to the wrong one... - and as soon as you step up onto the porch you hear another harsh voice yell in a way that makes you jump right out of your skin.
🍺 "Where the hell are that girls shoes, fuckface!?"
🍺 "Fuck, everything's my fault around here, huh kid?... I don't know, bitch. She said she was too hot wearing them, gimmie a break."
🍺 "We all know she's hot Freddy, that wasn't my question." Chucky sniggers, sat up on the porch swing with a wicked grin on his face. When he looks at your properly, sniffling and blowing your nose into a tissue from your pocket, and he makes an ewwwww sort of face, instead. "... and you made her cry. That's a little kinky even for you."
🍺 "... Uh, not its not."
🍺 "You're right, its not. Aaanyway- what the hell did you do to her??"
🍺 Here you finished wiping your nose and, tiredly now, turned to shake your head at Chucky. "No, its... *sniff* I was- was looking for Jen... a guy at the bar... he- he was an ass, and I just- "
🍺 Immediately they exchange an uncomfortable look. "Uhhh- what kinda ass?" Chucky asks, while Freddy gives you a quick once over.
🍺 You shrug, not truly thinking about what you're saying. "I- I thought he w-wanted t' cheer me up... but he didn't... she will, th- though, I hope,.. do you- do either of you know where she is maybe?... "
🍺 "Ehh... sorry kid, hate ta break it you ya but she left for the night... " As soon as those words leave Chucky's mouth your eyes fill up with tears all over again and you almost start crying immediately- before he fast tracks to stop it. "But hey!- y' share that bottle with me and y'can hang here. I betcha I'm better company then that millennial whore."
🍺 ... really? Immediately your heart soars, getting special treatment from one the meanest and scariest assholes in this house. The nicest thing you had ever heard him say before this moment!, you think!, was 'Get the fuck out of my way, please'! When you turn to Freddy, silently asking if that would be okay, he flashes you a smirk.
🍺 "Well, I am."
🍺 "Shut the fuck up, you pair of cauterized ass cheeks."
🍺 "That's a new one." "Yeah, pretty good, eh?" "Not bad, plastic breath."
🍺 As you sit down on the porch swing beside Chucky, taking some deep breaths of fresh, cool nighttime air to try and sober yourself, Chucky takes the cheap wine and he looks ridiculous with it but he takes a big gulp of it. Then turns to you, and asks promptly- so why're you so fucked up tonight, huh? Somethin' bad happen?
🍺 You stop, think about it... and immediately start crying into your hands.
🍺 Freddy pulls his hat down roughly over his eyes, and groans "no class... "- as if he's got any, either. Then turns and waltzes into the house again saying he's going to get the fucking box.
🍺 (He actually just goes to pee and comes back with a blanket for you)
🍺 A good while later, and you're getting quite sleepy just sitting there listening to Chucky and Freddy go back and forth from either side of you (You're not really contributing to the conversation, just sitting there with a blanket around you nodding or letting out little 'mhm's or 'uhuh's if they look at you to agree with them) and your gaze slips over to Chucky.
🍺 He stops mid-sentence to look at you, like, whadaya want?
🍺 Quickly he deadpans, recognising the look in your eye that he's become very familiar with since... you know... living as a good guy doll. "... you wanna fucken hold me, don't you?"
🍺 ... "Mhm... " You nod.
🍺 "Fuck, no. Get it outta your head. Do you think I enjoy that shit?? I'm the goddam Lakeshore Strangler, bitch, not a fucken Cabbage Patch kid. I'm feared. I'm infamous- no, do not fucken cry again. I swear, I'll stab you if you cry. Don't test me. Don't- aghhh!" After a few moments, he gives up, letting you gather him in your lap; One arm wrapping around his middle and the other hand slipping into his soft, messy hair. "If you tell anyone in there about this shit, you're gonna wake up with a new hole. I don't know where it'll be yet, I think I'll be spontaneous about it, but it will hurt."
🍺 "And you- " When Chucky turns to Freddy, who looks like he's about to explode seeing this, he stops. ... Slowly, he grins. "You know what?... Freddy buddy, why don't you tell us again how you lost so fucken bad to the momma's boy?" ... oh dear, you think, eyes going wide and round.
🍺 Like a light switch, all amusement is gone from Freddy's face, replaced by a furious glare, and he takes a deep, deep, deeeeeep breath; Getting up from the swing to stand in front of the two of you. "... you move your asses outta that chair before I finish and you die."
🍺 So yeah... explanation is seemingly very simple... but who would really believe you if you tried to tell them this all happened and Chucky and Freddy Krueger were actually nice to you??
#this had no right to be so cute i'm sorry XDDDD#but you know what? i love it#Chucky#Charles Lee Ray#Chucky x Reader#Freddy Krueger#Freddy Krueger x Reader#Horror House! AU#Horror House!AU#Horror House AU
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Nightshade
Chapter 22 | Chapter 24
Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂 TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :) Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD
Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne
The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.
As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”
So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.
“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”
Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”
“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.
She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”
Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”
“Worth it.”
As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.
Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.
He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”
Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”
“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”
“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”
The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.
My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.
“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“It doesn't matter,” she responded.
“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”
“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”
“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”
Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”
Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”
“I can call in,” I offered.
“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”
She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”
Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”
Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”
“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”
“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.
The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”
“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.
“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”
Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”
“What was that about?”
“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”
I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”
Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”
“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”
He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”
“It's not a big deal,” I replied.
“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about.”
Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”
“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.
“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”
With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”
Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”
“Maybe…”
Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”
“No.”
Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”
I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”
“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”
“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”
“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”
Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.
*
Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”
Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”
Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”
“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”
“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”
“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”
“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”
“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”
Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”
“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”
With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”
Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”
“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”
“Yep.”
“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.
It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.
“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”
Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight.
Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”
*
22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.
Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”
“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”
“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”
“Thanks, princess.”
“How was moving your couch in?”
Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”
He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”
Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”
“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.
“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”
With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”
Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”
“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”
“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”
Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”
Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”
Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”
The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing.
It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.
My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.
Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.
She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.
The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.
“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”
He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”
The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning.
My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”
“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”
“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.
He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.
The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”
I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”
“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”
“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”
“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”
“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”
I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”
“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”
He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”
Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”
With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.
Click.
Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Bang.
My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”
I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”
“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”
Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”
I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”
“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.
Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”
Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.
Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.
*
Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach.
Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone
When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.
He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”
Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena.
The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color.
Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”
“Fuck off Sasha!”
With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”
“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”
With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”
Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”
“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.
Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”
As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.
*
I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.
“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.
“Keep moving.”
“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”
“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”
I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.
“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”
“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”
I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”
“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”
A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”
“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”
In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”
Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”
There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.
Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”
“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.
Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”
“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”
“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”
“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.
Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”
I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”
Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.”
Jake.
Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”
Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”
I nodded.
“Can you feel my breaths?”
I nodded again.
“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”
I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.
Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”
Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”
“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”
“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”
“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.
“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”
If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”
While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.
“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”
Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.
This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.
I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”
Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”
“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”
“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.
“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.
Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”
“Then what happened?”
Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”
“Which painting?”
“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”
“Lena you-”
“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”
Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”
As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”
He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”
“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”
I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”
What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”
“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”
“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “
“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”
“Yeah, it is.”
He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”
I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”
“Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”
Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't.
I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.
After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”
“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.
“Go on,” I urged.
Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.
“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”
I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”
“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.
“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.
“For what?”
“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”
His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”
“Let's get drunk tonight.”
With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”
“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”
Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”
I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”
“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”
*
Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.
At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.
Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on.
So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.
After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”
“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.
He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face.
“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.
He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”
“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”
“Yep.”
“Seems like a real charmer.”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”
“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”
“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”
“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”
With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”
“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”
“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”
“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.
It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.
She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.
He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”
“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”
Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”
He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”
They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”
“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.
*
I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.
Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.
Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”
He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”
“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”
“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”
“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”
Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”
With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”
In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.
I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”
Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”
“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.
“You'd what?”
Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”
“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”
“Definitely,” he whispered.
I smirked. “How do you know?”
Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”
“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”
“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”
“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”
He chuckled. “Raincheck.”
“We can still make out though, right?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.
It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”
With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”
He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.
As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”
“I know.”
Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”
He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”
“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”
“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.
Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”
She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”
“Quinn-”
“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”
Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”
“Yeah, he is.”
*
Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”
“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”
“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”
Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”
“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”
“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”
Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”
With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”
“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back.
“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”
Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”
“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.
With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”
“How do you mean?”
“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”
My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home.
Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.
“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”
He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”
I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”
“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”
After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”
Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”
“Fine.”
I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”
He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.
“No, I don't think so.”
I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”
Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”
“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.
A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.
*
The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.
Why does this make you feel so afraid?
His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.
They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”
She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”
He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.
“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.
“What?”
“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”
“I'm not gonna do that.”
“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”
“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.
“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”
“Jake…”
Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”
Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”
Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”
“See ya, jerk.”
Tonight was gonna be fun.
*
“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”
He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”
Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.
I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”
“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”
“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses.
He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”
“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”
“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”
Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”
“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”
The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”
“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”
“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.
“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.
Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”
The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”
“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.
My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”
“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.
That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”
“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”
Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”
God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”
He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”
I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”
“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”
Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”
Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”
“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.
Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.
“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”
“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”
She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”
“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”
“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”
“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”
With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”
Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”
“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”
“Sounds good, thank you!”
“Det-”
“Details as payment, I know Q.”
Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.
We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.
Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.
Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes.
Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”
Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.
The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”
“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”
With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”
Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”
“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”
Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”
“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.
“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”
I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”
She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”
“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.
“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”
“I don't get to try anything else on?”
“Nope!”
With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”
“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.
Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.
I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake.
Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.
Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”
“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”
“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”
“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”
Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.
*
Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.
Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.
He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.
By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?
Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”
Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”
Asshole it is I guess.
Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”
“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”
As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”
He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”
“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection.
Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.
So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”
“I trust your taste in drinks.”
“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”
Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”
Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”
“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”
“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.
What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”
*
My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.
“I think you look perfect.”
Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.
Jake thought I looked perfect.
“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume? “Ghostbusters?”
“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.
Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”
With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”
I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”
“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.
“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”
Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”
“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”
“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”
I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”
He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”
“Hardly!” I argued - lied.
Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”
His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”
“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”
Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”
He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.
The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”
I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”
“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”
Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”
“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”
“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”
I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.
The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”
Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.
I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.
I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”
The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”
“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”
It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”
I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”
He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”
“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”
Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”
“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.
Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”
DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”
“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.
“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”
“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.
“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”
Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”
It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.
"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.
“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk.
"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.
"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.
Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.
I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."
He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."
I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.
Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.
This was it.
I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"
Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."
"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.
"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."
With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."
“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”
Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.
His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same.
I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”
Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”
Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.
To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.
“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”
His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”
His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”
The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”
Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”
Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”
I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”
“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”
My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”
His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”
I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”
Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.
“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”
I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”
“Absolutely.”
Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”
The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.
Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”
“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”
“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”
Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.
When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”
“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”
Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”
Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”
“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.
“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.
“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”
More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”
“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”
“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”
As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”
“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.
“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”
That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.
My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”
Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”
“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?
Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”
“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”
Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”
It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.
*
Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop.
His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."
"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."
Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."
"You're the worst."
She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"
Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."
"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."
His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."
She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"
Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."
When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop.
Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"
"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”
Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”
Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”
“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.
Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”
“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”
Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”
“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”
“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”
It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.
There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”
She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”
“I could never say no to you.”
“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”
Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”
Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”
“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”
Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”
With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”
“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly.
Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”
“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
#fic: nightshade#sweetbitter jake#jake sweetbitter#sweetbitter#sweetbitter jake x oc#jake x lena#sweetbitter fanfiction#sweetbitter fic#sweetbitter tv series#sweetbitter simone#tom sturridge#jake/oc#jake and lena#jake x oc#jake smut#sweetbitter smut#sweetbitter ocs#sweetbitter sasha#sweetbitter ari#sweetbitter heather#sweetbitter nicky#sweetbitter howard
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SO leaps to protect but is hurt, recovers. With G? Again his detective stuff is too good for this XD
"You're fired," a familiar voice said.
You opened your eyes and blinked in the harsh light of a hospital room. G was sitting in a chair by your bed, scowling. "You're fired," he repeated.
"What happened?" you asked and then winced in pain as your body presented its various aches for your now-conscious awareness.
G's scowl deepened. "What happened is you jumped in the path of a speeding bullet," he said, "and you're not Superman."
"What?"
"You got shot, lovely. You took a bullet for me. You ended up with a hole in your shoulder, a concussion from where your thick head hit the pavement, and a whole lot of bruises from where the rest of your body hit it. Why the hell would you ever do something so stupid?" His voice broke on the last word and his grumpy expression twisted into a pained one. He reached out and grabbed your hands in his. "I thought I lost you."
Tears welled up in your eyes as your memory slowly returned. You had jumped in front of the bullet. Some asshole had cornered you and G on your way out of a shop and waved a gun around. It had something to do with one of G's other cases. G had been teasing the gunman, mocking him, and you could see the asshole getting ready to fire. You remembered screaming and pushing G out of the way and then a burning pain in your shoulder...
"I saved your life," you said rather indignantly. "Why am I fired?"
"Because it's not your job to save me," G said, "and it's too dangerous for you to come with me on investigations if that's how you're gonna act."
"So I guess I should have let you get shot?"
"Better me than you!" He pulled his hands back to wipe furiously at his sockets. "I don't want anybody givin' their life for me," he said. "It's not worth it."
You reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand to your cheek so you could nuzzle against it. "Don't say that," you begged. "G, please...Don't say that..."
He scooted closer to you and took your face in both hands. "You mean the world to me, Y/N," he said. "Don't you ever scare me like that again. I love ya too much to let ya die for me."
#g!sans#g!sans x reader#drabble#slightly angsty I guess#g's got some old painful memories stirring up#can't go through losing someone he loves again
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dukexiety but ones a ghost. Remus is a ghost. Haunting like an apartment or something. He's a ghostie.
Virgil is a broke college who can't afford to move out and is just now learning he can see ghosts. Especially and specifically the perverted (/lh) ghost that died in the 90s and has really good trad alt look tips.
Skip a few years and he's still in the same apartment because it's cheap and now virgils wondering if it's morally ethical to fuck a ghost. Or if it's possible. Don't ask how or why but I'm like thoroughly convinced he'd be laying on his bed (with Remus there bc obviously) and he'd just have the thought and groan to himself. I mean, you know a ghost, ya get curious
(rem is very excited to have a friend. Occasionally they can touch. Makes Remus feel sleepy though. Too much energy) (also their age gap isn't meant to be weird Remus died at like 20 too 😭)
(they will kiss.)
— 👑✨
Oh my god I L O V E that S O fucking much XD!!! Vee just sees Ree and immediately Googles if it's possible to fuck a Ghost XD But that's cute as hell that Ree is excited about being close with Vee cause he has someone to hang out with and talk to <3 Also that's S O damn sweet that they can touch if Ree focuses hard enough and uses his Ghost powers but can't really blame the poor chaotic Ghost for not doing it much especially if it takes up all his energy
#hell yeah they K I S S#dukexiety#remus sanders#virgil sanders#ts remus#ts virgil#sanders sides#thomas sanders#asks#answers#👑 anon#not a countdown
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I hope you don’t mind my asking, but I saw you reblogged that “becoming the mask you wore” trope thing and you said when you write Rosi and/or Viola you employ that trope and I’d be suuuper interested if you could rec which fics you wrote with that concept! It’s so fascinating to me and it’s something I’ve thought about a lot too! 😁
aahh hello~!! what a delight!! i was going to link the post you're referring to here but of course now i can't find it. i do remember which post you're talking about tho!! let me gather some of the fics where i used this trope.
for viola...
façade really hones in on the shaky balance between violet and viola, her persona for doflamingo/the family vs her true self. doflamingo x viola, rated T.
a gift and a curse has some viola vs violet as well. not as much, but it's present! also rated T, doflamingo x viola. this one is a soulmate AU but not in a good way lmao
for rosinante...
blood gone sour is a bit dark, (although so is doviola) but it's my most recent take on the dq bros, and has a decent bit of corazon-mask-wearing from rosinante's pov. (and even sengoku's pov). rated T, no ships, just mind the warnings.
words cut deeper is almost like a softer version of the fic above XD basically it's a... what if corazon's mask broke? and rosinante broke free just for a minute and said what was really on his mind? gen across the board.
broken fingers hold tightest, broken hearts bleed brightest is an M-rated crocodile x rosinante fic that spirals into a rosinante vs corazon identity crisis at the very end. mind the tags on that one too.
if you're willing to read a MASSIVE multichap, i do quite a bit of identity crises in 01746, but that story is chonky. M-rated rosinante x OC backstory fic. you could start at chapter 29 when he first takes on the corazon codename. a lot of chapters work well standalone in that fic too, so if you're really dying for the trope, i'd recommend chapters 32, 35, 39, and 44 XD
i am in LOVE with this trope and it almost bleeds into anything slightly canon i write with these characters. i do hope to do more with viola soon so this list can grow.
thank you SO much for the ask!! sorry it took me a few days to get back to ya <3
#one piece fanfiction#thank you for the ask!!#donquixote rosinante#corazon one piece#violet one piece#riku viola
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Whispers and Love (Adaine)
This is a short fic about our lovely Adaine with the prompt "Whispers" for you, @capybaraonabicycle it's technically a double.five drabble XD
Words: 250
This is set throughout S1!
Adaine sat in her room, hugging a frog plushie to her chest, trying to calm her breathing. She hadn't meant to panic during the Hudol exam, of course, and yet when she thought of the mildly disappointed expressions on her parents ageless faces, she couldn't help but think it was her fault somehow. Why couldn't she be perfect like her sister, or at least... better than this?
A frustrated laugh broke from her lips between gasps for air. You are making a scene, Adaine, her father's voice whispered. Her mother only sighed, and Aelwyn stood off to the side, turning from Adaine. Get yourself together, she murmured in Adaine's ear.
Finally, her own voice began speaking to her as well. We should be better, Adaine. You know that. Why can't you just do it? You'll be just like this at Aguefort. How can you expect your friends to love you if you don't give anything back?
Adaine whimpered, squeezing her plushie tighter. "Stop saying that," she hissed, shakily breathing in and out.
Her crystal lit up, a voice message from Fig. Adaine reached, shakily pressed the button. "Hey, Adaine. Wanna come over to Strongtower and hang out? Sklonda's bought some cake for you as well. See ya, maybe."
As she listened, Adaine's breaths slowed, and she could dry her tears. Her friends loved her unconditionally, something her parents never had.
I'll be there in twenty minutes, Adaine texted back, and she grabbed her Jacket of Useful Things to set off.
#my poor girl has anxiety and needs someone to be there for her#she also needs unconditional love and to get away from her shit family#adaine abernant#fantasy high freshman year#fantasy high#dimension 20#fanfiction
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why does my mind make up these?
{Context: it's a heatwave and the AC broke in Sun and Moon's room}
Sun: -limbs spread out on the ground like those cat photos you see when they are hot- "ggrrrmmm"
Moon: "too hot?"
Sun: -grumbles in agreement-
Moon: "I'll go get ya some ice"
{I sorta thought of this since the whole organic thing XD}
Lmao, this is hilarious and would definitely seem like something Sun would do lol
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you know i gotta do it to ya 🥸
The dresser is completely covered in makeup, jewelry, magazines, and a scattering of gin and vodka bottles - they all have interesting or pretty shapes so Venetia collects them, and it makes for easy gifts so long as Felix is willing to trawl through a bunch of shops. Farleigh is to blame for the six-litre light-up vodka bottle currently glowing pink at the very edge of the dresser, the one they all made themselves as sick as dogs trying to drain a few years ago.
xD Thankee now I've got to remember but THANKFULLY mostly do lol
I kinda rambled a bit?? So, under the cut here
Venetia's room was very much influenced by Alison Oliver's interview (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygMQn0viPcE) where she describes the room as being full of makeup, jewelry, mags etc (Elspeth's effect shining through here), and very pink and black.
And just the general MESS in Saltburn really heaping up for Venetia's room as an extremely deliberate choice of hers. A sort of control/ownership in it, especially since she's there all year around, and it can be so comforting to have a bedroom as an escape and let it be a complete tip that's just yours, no one else's.
The gin/vodka bottles are inspired by my sister specifically xD She doesn't collect them the same, but the prettier ones do get kept sometimes (and we even had this MASSIVE whiskey bottle (think knee-height) filled with coins never above a 10p in our living room for years that was my granddad's), and it's kinda impressive how elaborate some can go.
SO for Venetia, it's a few things.
The casual alcoholism across the board with the Cattons, the idea of underlying fucked-ness with so many bottles of pretty but cheap, mass-produced glass and the lingering smell of the alcohol inside, a few drops where it wasn't cleaned out properly and maybe some still half-full, reflecting the lights on the dresser and her distorted reflection back at her, lovingly enabled. The half-hidden sentimentality of her keeping the gifted ones on prime display, but mixed in among a whole load of mess so there's too many things to draw your eye. And they're all very cheap in the grand scheme of it all, but these end up being what last for years on a dresser used every single day, compared to priceless gifts tossed in a pile and forgotten.
(hi yes I'm still going??? Oops) Now, the vodka bottle specifically...Again, blame my sister for being super into vodka and flavoured ones until she got really sick on it once and then stopped drinking it xD Also, blame a google search for 'pretty vodka bottles' or something like that, and a light-up one popped up which felt too perfect.
Flashy and objectively cheap but it's 'saw this and thought of you' and 'isn't this silly' and 'let's get sick together for no good reason just to celebrate you and us' and 'here's something for you to look at and think of those memories when it was just the three of us when we're not here but you still are'.
Pretty pink and tacky and a shared mockery but if *any* of those bottles were moved even a centimeter, Venetia would notice. Left at the very edge like she wants it to fall, but would *absolutely* cry if it ever broke.
(Felix is the one who got the sickest on their binge attempt, and would've fallen into the pond if Venetia and Farleigh didn't grab him in time.)
(I COULD RAMBLE MORE BUT IM STOPPING NOW ISTG-)
#az asks#fic: maneater#THANKEE but also DANG my brain i didnt know i wanted to ramble on about venetia so much
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HELLO!, I'm going to make one of kano, sad? xD, idk, I'll try to make it at least sad, although what's truly sad is my way of writing,idk, I'll leave you with the Headcanon!
(la versión en español está en esta misma publicación!) I hope you like it!
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Kano Headcanon! (Sad?)
<> well.... well you were the "perfect" couple, they had really warned you what Kano was like, but you simply thought that they were exaggerations, since with you he was something else, he was not like the others said, or well that you thought, he gave you gifts, all kinds of things and loving actions for you
<> 4 years, fourth damn years, did you see it coming?, NO Absolutely not, things began to get complicated when he began to arrive with a smell of cheap cave liquor, although you already knew that he drank that was not so much the problem but that It was his shirt which almost always had traces of makeup that was not yours, he even had fresh lipstick on his collar.
<>The first few times you don't face him, oh girl... the first mistake, each time he began to be more isolated and the few times that you really tried to save what little was left of your relationship by taking him to restaurants or the movies, spoiler he never It came, it only broke your heart more, how could that happen? everything looked so... so... so happy...
<>What made you explode when you literally found him with a woman, in a bar, flirting together, you walked away from that place as quickly as possible, your eyes filled with tears, but why? You already knew or well you suspected that he was cheating on you, so why does it hurt as if you hadn't known? Did you want to confront him several times, ask him why? Why was everything falling apart? But your heart was stronger than your logic.
<>While you were crying he was having fun in the bar, that made you remember everything they told you, you should have paid attention to those words that you thought were only to hurt you, you spent several days trying to talk to him, which resulted in fights , shouts and insults and they even threw things at each other, in one of their many fights you shouted at him what you already knew about his deception, he limited himself to saying "you weren't paying attention to me, it makes sense why I do it"
<>After those many fights you decided to put a damn end to this shit, you didn't say anything, you just packed up and left, they lived in an apartment, you didn't have many things in that place other than clothes or similar, you went to another place, maybe that you have traveled to another country to seek peace or forget all that "love" shit
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HOLA!, voy a hacer uno de kano, ¿triste? xD, no sé, intentaré que sea al menos triste, aunque lo realmente triste es mi forma de escribir, no sé, los dejo con el Headcanon!, espero les guste!
Kano Headcanon! (Triste?)
<> bueno.... bueno ustedes eran la pareja "perfecta", realmente te habían advertido cómo era Kano, pero simplemente pensaste que eran exageraciones, ya que contigo él era otra cosa, no era como decían los demás. , o bien eso pensabas, te dio regalos, todo tipo de cosas y acciones amorosas para ti.
<> 4 años, cuarto maldito año, ¿lo veías venir?, NO Por supuesto que no, la cosa se empezó a complicar cuando empezó a llegar con olor a licor de cueva barato, aunque ya sabías que bebía que no era tanto. el problema pero que era su camisa la cual casi siempre tenia restos de maquillaje que no era tuyo, incluso tenia labial fresco en su cuello.
<>Las primeras veces que no lo enfrentas, oh chica... el primer error, cada vez empezó a estar más aislado y las pocas veces que realmente intentaste salvar lo poco que quedaba de tu relación llevándolo a restaurantes o al cine, spoiler él nunca llegó, solo te rompió más el corazón, ¿cómo pudo pasar eso? todo parecía tan... tan... tan feliz...
<>¿Qué te hizo explotar cuando literalmente lo encontraste con una mujer, en un bar, coqueteando juntos, te alejaste de ese lugar lo más rápido posible, con los ojos llenos de lágrimas, pero por qué? Ya sabías o bien sospechabas que te estaba engañando, entonces ¿por qué te duele como si no lo hubieras sabido? ¿Querías confrontarlo varias veces y preguntarle por qué? ¿Por qué todo se estaba desmoronando? Pero tu corazón era más fuerte que tu lógica.
<>Mientras llorabas el se estaba divirtiendo en el bar, eso te hizo recordar todo lo que te dijeron, debiste prestar atención a esas palabras que pensabas que solo eran para lastimarte, estuviste varios días tratando de hablar con él, lo cual resultó en peleas, gritos e insultos y hasta se tiraban cosas, en una de sus tantas peleas le gritaste lo que ya sabías de su engaño, él se limitó a decir "no me estabas haciendo caso, se hace". sentido por qué lo hago"
<><>Después de tantas peleas decidiste ponerle fin a esta maldita mierda, no dijiste nada, simplemente empacaste y te fuiste, ellos vivían en un departamento, no tenías muchas cosas en ese lugar más que ropa o similar, te fuiste a otro lugar, tal vez hayas viajado a otro país para buscar la paz u olvidar toda esa mierda del "amor"
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Finally this guy appears.
Dear GERSH it took me awhile to get this design right. I did an initial design back in November of last year that I was... eh... about. Mainly it didn’t feel creepy enough. So I let it sit for a bit and focus on some of the other characters. Finally came back to it today after having a dream and seeing this version of him.
So, Storm and I sat down, watched some episodes and I sketched while watching. (Fun fact I am still making my way through the series properly. XD I’m in season 3 and having a good time.) And so... we get all this.
I basically broke Skeleton King into pieces to try and improve the original design I had. Started with his head, then worked towards everything else. Cause truth be told the hardest thing for me to nail down was his head. Mainly in that... I had to allow myself to break way from giving him a realistic skull. Odd thing to say but this is due to the fact of doing things in my style rather than doing as the show did. The show stylized his skull in a way that made sense. I can’t get away with it as well in my style. So hence I had to think of something. The solution being allowing myself to warp his skull into something monster like due to what happened to him. So skull was stretched out, jaw is detached and he has his sharp teeth. Very happy with this skull over the realistic one. Again, I know, odd to say but I really wanted to keep the essence of what it was like in the show since I do like the design. Just a matter of translating. And with the realistic one I just didn’t think he was scary enough. He’s supposed to be the stuff of nightmares for Chiro. This realistic skull wasn’t it. This one? Absolutely.
Then as for the rest of of him, the body was honestly the easiest part since what I had done initially I was already okay with. Just made minor tweaks like simplifying how much bone we see, how much bone he has, and modifying his outfit, Like giving him full on pants since admittedly, have his leg bones showing came off as a bit goofy to me. Same with the claw feet. Just seemed to silly so he gets full on boots.
Last piece was his staff and I just decided to redesign the whole thing from the ground up. Kept elements of his canon one but wanted more power to exude from it.
After all that, we then get the concept art render at the beginning of the post. Where we see his cloak as well and all the pieces put together.
Tough challenge, but very happy with the end results. I look forward to doing full renders of this guy in the future.
And yeah. Hope you all enjoy my take on The Skeleton King.
Catch ya on the next one.
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Creations AU, But I obnoxiously over explain it PT 7
Pages 181-210
Some of these pages were lined by my friend AK
@akdrawsandwrites
They've helped me with this AU's art a lot when I got stuck quite a few times. XD
They're playing Minecraft, while Michael goes on an absolute rant about how much he dislikes the other owner's son "Sammy"
Sammy is apparently:
Smug Having relations with William Afton Has friends
All these things piss Michael off for one reason or another.
Presumably to calm the hell down Michael goes to take a bath while Mike hunts for diamonds.
Mike's death glare as Michael rambles as he slays the monsters so they can sleep is so hilarious to me. Just further proof he's good at video games.
Mike ventures out of Michael's room to use the toilet
And we get more context as to why William isn't comfortable around Mike:
Apparently he takes medication for something.
William's just a TAD condescending and rude about it. You know. Because we've seen how this man acts towards his own son lmfao this isn't a surprise he isn't too delicate with someone with mental health struggles. (Even if he kind of tries to be.)
Mike sits down to piss. Lol. Old habits must die hard.
Huh, Michael's got prosthetic robot legs.
Interesting...
Haha he doesn't answer that question.
Aaaaand his arms are robotic too...
HUH.
And I've been goofy about it but his eyes aren't exactly normal either...
And come to think of it...Michael your face is kinda weiiiird looking...
"Kinda scary just how much a man could be a machine"
Michael...
There something you wanna confess too-
LIKE THE FACT YOU'RE A CYBORG-
All of you are screaming at me aren't you? X'D
Oh so much here:
Five years is significant to both of them.
Michael picks up on the fact that it's significant and isn't too nice about that.
Michael's façade of being a bubbly happy guy has broke a few times but this was the most direct time it broke, outright glaring with anger at Mike's lack of response.
Masked with "HAHA Just kidding!~"
He was obviously NOT kidding.
Michael abruptly stops the conversation to go to bed.
Or so it seems as Mike reflects.
Jeremy's brought up again. So we can presume Jeremy disappeared five years ago.
Michael pipes up again to proclaim a few things.
He knows Mike's up to something and isn't hiding that.
Bonnie brought it up so Michael isn't fully in the dark. Also despite acting childish Michael isn't dumb.
I let ya read this segment uncut with my nonsense cause it shows a LOT:
First tho I'm gonna talk about stuff I like art wise:
Michael's design is just nice to my brain. He's just so damn cute in his body language. In terms of symbolism him pushing his hair out of his face could show he's trying to be open with Mike in this moment.
Anyways: Back to stuff.
We keep getting glimpses of SOMETHING going horribly wrong with an animatronic who appears to be in a similar state to Ennard. Only having a mask on an endoskeleton.
This is interspersed through Michael and Mike's conversation of Mike conceding to let Michael help him.
bringing up Bonnie again as a motivator to keep Michael out of this for his own saftey. Mike stays quiet when asked "You're concerned with how Bonnie feels?" Mike's not a "Talk about your feelings" kinda person as we've seen so far. He keeps things in.
Michael mentions a specific incident he THINKS brought Mike here one we haven't seen yet mentioned and I plan to be explored in the comic "Spring Bonnie's friends" because a lot of details in the main AU are expanded upon in smaller side comics: Some kids disappeared and an owner at another Fredbears nearby. And THIS caused Mike to come here to investigate.
As we know, Jeremy disappeared here and Mike's determined to stop it.
The constant cuts and the bloody machinery behind Michael builds up to what has happened If you know FNAF, you know EXACTLY what was behind Michael in that shot hehe.
Michael got a bit of an injury. Ow.
Impaled.
Damn okay call out to Cody I'm sure he'll help.
To be fair Cody's way more likely to hear him than Bonnie in this instance.
This isn't stated in the comic but since regular FNAF fans would know this:
They're in the previously established dangerous "Toy" department.
Bonnie is in a completely different part of the building. But Cody is a creepy stalker who has eyes everywhere in the building:
Cody can see you no matter WHERE you are so it does make more sense to ask him for help.
OH HELLO MR. NO NAME SECURITY GUARD HOW ARE YOU!?
Guess Cody is heading the call after all...In an indirect way...Lazy bear.
Right as the horrible robot catches up to Mike.
That thing is "The mangle"
It's saying it's dialogue from the AR game because I found it insanely fitting for this scene.
It's a busted up robot that wants to be whole and is looking for SOMETHING to do that. Something it ditched Michael for but ran after Mike for.
Mike comes to terms with the hand he's been dealt.
His true goals becoming a lot clearer:
He was looking for a way to die nobody would question while trying to find everyone.
Oh yeah, Michael's alive still.
Nom nom nom nom-
NOT TODAY BITCH. CODY SENT A BOY.
HERE COMES THE BOY
HELLO BOY
WELCOME
HERE COMES THE BOYYYYYYYY-
MR. ROBOT EYEBALLS IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY! :D
That thing he had is a tazer lmfao.
I'd assume he's an angel too I mean just look at him. ❤️
Oh my god.
He's the might seduce your dad type, owners son himself:
Sammy Fritz Emily
He'd kiss anyone. You. Your dad-
Alright onto the outfit thing I mentioned earlier:
All the owners have black ties and black undershirts while people outside of the two families that own the place have white undershirts or in Jeremy Fitzgerald's case a blue undershirt.
Literally nobody ever noticed that detail so I point it out because CHARACTER DESIGN IS MY PAAAAASIONNNNNN~
Okay enough fucking around one of my absolute favorite characters Sammy Emily is finally fully introduced! :D
Golden Freddy manipulation aside, he came to our boy's aid against a hulking robot that could kill a normal person.
Sammy's a badass.
He seems nice. I mean he charged an animatronic no hesitation to save our boy's ass, so maaaaybe Michael's view on him is misguided and clouded by his daddy issues.
What the heck WERE Mike and Michael doing here exactly?
Mike just reflects on what the fuck just happened.
#fnaf au#fnaf comic#fnaf fan comic#fnaf fan art#fnaf creations au#fnaf golden freddy#golden freddy#mike schmidt#fnaf michael afton#michael afton#bonnie#fnaf bonnie
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