#zero fucking answers or closure

[agothinhiding]

streaming services should be required to put a warning or disclaimer on shows that got canceled prematurely. I shouldn't have to Google every show I want to watch to see if it got canceled, and I'm tired of investing in a show just to realize after watching that it's never going to continue. it's fucking ridiculous that we have to research shows before getting invested in them. I'm so serious when I say that I'm going to stop watching new shows altogether soon because it's just not worth it anymore. it provides none of the value that tv shows should provide (character and PLOT development, satisfying endings, twists and turns, literally anything that takes longer than 1 season to accomplish). I only have so much time in my week to watch TV and I'm tired of squandering what little free time I have on fucking bullshit that leaves me unsatisfied and pissed off.

maybe if these companies see the popularity of the new original series dropping itll make them scared enough to actually give their viewers what they fucking signed up for

[gamerwoman3d]

Pretend I'm Him 

Imagine secretly banging Kuai Liang before the shit hit the fan at Ying Fortress.  In the aftermath of the fallout, the grandmaster wants a word…

[My apologies to other genders - lady anatomy used, from the start this time. Additionally, you don't have to agree with what this reader character thinks: just understand her information has been filtered. She is not omnipotent. Her information about the fallout is limited to what her clan/grandmaster has said about those events.]

Tags: SOFTER Bi-Han.

[Yes this is MK1 Bi-Han x Reader]

[🔞Spicy/Explicit after the cut🔞]

Imagine this non-committal relationship with Kuai Liang that was supposed to remain a secret. Imagine sneaking out on the regular, just to feel his hot tongue on your clit. You learned every soundproof nook and cranny of the Lin Kuei stronghold like your lives depended on it, not because any threat to either of you existed here at home, but rather because if you were forced to go more than a couple of days without sex, you felt like you just might die.

And then there was some bullshit at Ying Fortress. You were already so pent up waiting for Kuai Liang to return. You knew it was serious because his brother, the Grandmaster himself, went with him to oversee the mission.  Your heart jumped for joy when you overheard that the Grandmaster finally returned, only to discover that Kuai Liang and their adopted brother were marked as traitors, and would likely never be returning to the fortress.

Sure, you were worried for Kuai Liang, for the clan, for the future. Hell, you even felt some concern for your Grandmaster's broken heart. And maybe you were a little scared for yourself: Kuai Liang wasn't the enemy when you were sleeping with him, but you did sleep with said enemy, and had some concerns about what that might mean for you if that fact was discovered going forward. After all, the Lin Kuei stronghold was your home. Its walls protect your friends, family, and your entire support network, all clumped together in this small community which calls the stronghold home. Their protection might be at risk if the clan begins to suspect you of colluding with a traitor.  But deep down, in your shadowy id, the second you heard the news, your initial gut reaction was "FUCK. WHAT AM I GONNA DO TO GET MY NEEDS MET, NOW?”

No one can blame you. Every day that Kuai Liang was gone was a day that you burned inside for the lack of him.  You were so excited when you thought he was coming home, so energized, so ready to extinguish the flames, so wet.  

What a fucking letdown. And it was days ago.

You stared at the blank encrypted messaging app on your phone. If you messaged him, and were discovered, it could be taken as an act of consorting with the enemy. If you didn't, it might seem to him like you didn't care. If you reached out, he might think you were stalking him to help your clan hunt him down. But the only way to stop overthinking it was to reach out and see what happens.

Kuai Liang didn't answer. You weren't being left on "seen" - it was as if he lost his phone entirely.

No closure. Fantastic. Could it get any fucking worse.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. Not Kuai Liang, as you had hoped, but your best bud. You answer on the first ring, only to be interrupted by your breathless friend's frantic whispering.

"Hey! Sub-Zero's looking for you. I dunno what's going on, but I gotta go.”

You'd rather be back in school as the kid walking shamefully to the principal's office. You'd rather be back at bootcamp pounding sand in freezing temperatures.  You'd rather be a deer stuck in the headlights of a speeding semi.

You snap to your senses and delete the encrypted app from your phone.  You straighten yourself up and do what you do best - Sneak out, and sneak around the Lin Kuei stronghold.

You hid for a minute to think, watching from the shadows as your Grandmaster's best people searched for you in an unobtrusive manner. Then, you decided to take yourself to him. His family's private domicile was far enough from yours that your immediate family wouldn't have to see or hear whatever went down. Maybe you could keep your secret a bit longer that way. Or maybe he'd murder you on the spot.

His back was to you as you approached the garden at the front of his home. He stood unmasked, and spoke to a pair of his men. The men each stole a glance at you, prompting Sub-Zero to turn and glance over his shoulder as he spoke.

He did a double-take.

He immediately dismissed the men, who walked past you as you strode up the walkway toward them.  With the whites of his eyes visible between the top of his bottom eyelid and the bottom of his brown irises, Sub-Zero's expression felt uncharacteristically soft as you approached.

"I heard that you wanted to see me, sir?" you questioned.

You held your breath.

"Yes. Don't be nervous, you're in no trouble," he said.

His voice sounded strange when he spoke gently.  It sounded strange without the muffled echo from the mask.  Both things being true at once, it was like speaking to a different person than the masked master of the training grounds. His voice wasn't the stinging gravelly growl that he used while in command. It was a husky, comforting sound, sprung from a genuine intent to calm and reassure your quivering heart.

With a wave of his hand, he invited you inside.  Someone brought tea, and he redirected it to an office in his house. Now life felt exactly like a visit to the principal's office, if upon one of the bookshelves was a photo of your shirtless lover holding your shirtless principal in a headlock.

Your eyes fixated on the photo of Scorpion and Sub-Zero. It was before Kuai Liang had the scorpion tattooed, but well after his biceps had formed into what they still are, today.  You wanted to say that you missed him dearly, but damn, you missed his body.  Staring at the divots along his obliques had you dying to feel them between your thighs once more.

Sub-Zero's eyes followed yours to the photo. For a millisecond, his eyebrows knit in pain in an otherwise bemused expression.

"Tomas took that photo... the little traitor.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“Mm. Mom called Kuai Liang to nag him over the phone. I can do a convincing imitation of him so I snuck up behind him and said ‘You can’t make me!’” Bi-han mocked.

You had to admit to yourself that his imitation in that moment was spot on. But you also forced yourself to keep quiet, even as the uncanny mockery of your lover's voice made you miss him even more.  

He continued.

“Immediately, we hear her squawking on the other end of the line, and he crushes his phone so hard in anger that the screen snapped. She always believed he actually said it and then hung up on her.”

The bemused expression faded from his face, leaving behind a pained gloss over his brown eyes.

“She was mad at him for so long. I deserved the beating he tried to give me.”

Sub-Zero reached out and gently turned the photo down upon its face before opening a locked file cabinet and rifling through its folders.  He gestured to the tea and to the seating, welcoming you to make yourself comfortable.

You thanked him, sat, and took a sip of the boiling hot tea that was served to you; it would have been seen as an act of enmity not to do so.  You held the cup for warmth and comfort.  Truthfully, the hard ceramic was stinging-hot and smooth to the touch... god damn. Must every little thing remind you of his touch. You pressed your fingers into the glazed surface to feel the sting on your fingertips, in a futile attempt to disengage yourself from the current reality. Your panic over the immediate future kept a strong hold on you, even as you wished to be back in Kuai Liang's arms.

Sub-Zero closed the drawer, keeping his eyes fixed on the papers of a file he'd withdrawn. It still wasn't apparent to you how much the man knew about your relationship with his disaffected brother. And the grandmaster had yet to state what he wanted with you. If you truly were not in trouble, does that mean he didn't know? Or was he secretly ready to send you back to the character select screen? You bit back your burning questions. Moments of excruciating silence passed.

"... Keep breathing," he instructed, trying to withhold a smirk.

You gasped a bit. You realized that you weren't just biting back the questions - you were holding back your breath.  Your breath hitched and shuddered as it fought to catch up quietly.  Sub-Zero waited until your breathing evened out to speak.

"You still haven't asked me why I wanted to see you. Do you already know?" he asked.

The question was bait. And you knew it. You shook your head and said no.

He nodded. 

"You're good. You are really good," he said.

You took the compliment in silent confusion.

"I think if anyone here could get to Kuai Liang, it's you," he said.

You swallowed. You broke a sweat.

"What makes you think that?" you asked, acting as though you were innocent of having had any prior connection.

He arches an eyebrow. At the same time he thumbs a piece of paper out of the file: a receipt from the pharmacist. The receipt showed that you were issued a few prescriptions: silver based ointment for blisters, and one slightly more embarrassing cream. You remembered needing it after a particularly hot experiment with Kuai Liang went wrong in the early days of your secret relationship.

You turn red, not when he shows it to you, but when he looks into your eyes with a cocky, knowing gaze. His eyes may as well have become the headlights; your secrets become the deer. The mess was just as bloody in your mind either way. You suddenly wish patient-provider confidentiality were a more sacrosanct part of Lin Kuei military tradition. But even if it were, the grandmaster likely had methods of extracting their information. Your heart pounded. 

He knew you'd fucked Kuai Liang. 

His voice stayed strangely dulcet, full of compassion and understanding when he next spoke. His words didn't match his timbre.

"When I read this, I came to the conclusion that you both got a little too fired up.”

"Not the puns, please. I'll go pound sand in the freezing desert, please no more puns," you thought.

You didn't mean to groan aloud at his terrible pun. It just kinda happened. You didn't expect him to soften and apologize so quickly, but he did.

"I am sorry to have brought that up. I truly am. I imagine it must have been painful, or at least deeply uncomfortable for you. To the matter at hand, let us both start by committing to being straightforward with each other. That will benefit the both of us, greatly. And now I will ask you, kindly, please do not insult my intelligence by feigning ignorance, and I will not insult yours by pretending I'm funny. Agreed?" 

“You said I wasn’t in trouble.”

“You’re not. Listen… I can't afford to make a mortal enemy out of someone who can sneak around my own home as effortlessly as you have. I had my best people searching for you, but when you arrived here, my guard was down. My back was to you. If Kuai Liang had asked you to kill me, you could have done it, right then.”

It’s true. Your eyes widened. Your thoughts were so preoccupied with whether or not he would kill you, that it never occurred to you that he could be worried about your own ability to kill him, let alone kill him in his own home at any time you desired.

He sat the papers down, cupped your face with both hands, and lifted until your eyes met his. This close, you could see the dark circles of sleeplessness form beneath his eyes. Something about the out of place strands of hair on one side of his bun made you imagine him awake all night, laying on the messy side.

“I just want to be able to sleep. I try to sleep each night knowing that on any given night, you could end my life if you wanted. I’ll sleep easier when I know where you stand. I’ll sleep much easier if I know you’re going to stay on our side. But even if you don’t, Kuai Liang is out there somewhere and I fear he is lost, suffering, and alone. I know I couldn’t stop you if you want to reach him and join his side. And even if I could stop you, I would choose to let you go, in hopes that someday maybe you can talk some sense into him. And no, I do not want to see any harm befall either of you. You are Lin Kuei. The Lin Kuei are my life. You have my word that I will continue to honor and protect your family and friends to the best of my ability if you decide to leave. But stay. Please. I would do anything for you to stay. So what is it? What do you want? What can I give you that will make you stay?”

Your face turned red between his warm hands. You hadn’t been touched by a man since they left for Ying Fortress, and your body had jumped to inappropriate conclusions beneath his touch. You couldn’t answer him. He studied your face. He shook his head and spoke.

“The only thing you want is him, isn't it?”

Well… maybe the only thing you wanted was sex. You weren't quite in love with Kuai Liang, not in the way that would have you abandoning everything you knew to join him in his fight against everyone who ever supported you. With Bi-Han’s firm grip on your face, you couldn't turn your head from your grandmaster. But you broke eye contact, casting your eyes down in shame from your inability to honestly answer that Kuai Liang was indeed the only thing you wanted. He wasn't.

“I don't want to die, and I don't want to break my oaths,” you said.

“You're not breaking your oaths. I'm willing to command you to go to him. To spy. To watch over him. To guide him and make sure he doesn't get himself killed in service to Liu Kang. You'd never be marked as an enemy, always welcome to return.”

Leave everything to go babysit a grown man? Hell naw.

“I don't want to leave…” you admitted it.

“Then look me in the eyes and tell me you are not considering running away to find him,” Bi-han gently ordered.

You turned your eyes as far away from him as you could. Logically, a man that breaks his oaths and abandons your entire community was not worthy of running toward. It should have been easy to tell Bi-han that there was no part of you that wanted to chase after Kuai Liang. But instead, you replied:

“I can't. The… the sex… was amazing. And the thought does cross my mind.”

As you said it, his breath stilled. Your words caught him off guard.

“So then it is only the sex that you want? Not the connection, the heart nor the soul?” he asked.

You certainly had not treated each other like soulmates. If anything, you and Kuai Liang had treated each other like fucktoys, and you both loved every minute of it.

“That's right,” you said.

Somewhere in your gut, you realized: if Kuai Liang had loved you, considered you his soulmate, or had even wanted to build a life with you, he would be here. He would have returned. He would have done anything to return to your side, including obey illegal orders. If he ever truly loved you, he would have at least considered joining his brother in betraying God Himself. But Kuai Liang had done none of that. He chose his path with no hesitation. He was gone from you now, and if you were honest with yourself, you always knew that the two of you weren't meant to last forever.

The thought brought angry, embarrassed tears to the brink of your eyes. You hoped you could bite them back for the duration of Bi-Han’s inquiry.

“And yet, you want it enough that you feel tempted to run to him. It burns so badly that you feel tempted to aid a deserter?” Bi-Han said.

Neither you nor Kuai Liang were serious about each other. At least not enough to label each other or go public with your fling. That's why you both kept it a secret. You should have told your Grandmaster all of this with your words when he asked if you wanted his brother's sexual services more than his heart and soul: but you said it all with a cringe and a silent nod.

Yes, it was only the sex that I wanted. Not his heart. Not his soul. you silently admitted.

Bi-Han’s face twisted into a quizzical pout, not dissimilar to a look you'd seen on your lover's face in the past when he silently sought solutions as he worked through problems in his mind. The silence lasted too long for comfort; you could sense him figuring out what to do with you. His brows flashed with the strike of an idea.

“Pretend I'm him,” he said.

“What?”

Your mind jumps to a scenario where you pretend that Bi-Han is your lover and act out all the fantasies you'd saved for Kuai Liang's return. You felt perverse: it felt wrong to assume you'd been ordered to *treat* Bi-han in the same sexual manner that you would treat his brother. Surely he didn't intend for you to imagine Kuai Liang while he pleasured you in the deepest most erotic methods. Even allowing yourself the briefest glimpse at Bi-Han through a carnal lens proved devastating. One glimpse was all it took to deeply appreciate his shoulders, his eyes, his strength, his agility, his voice, his highly regimented grooming habits. Good god, you marveled at what he could do to you if he wanted. Was he really suggesting himself to be your lover? A stand in?

Imagine the Grandmaster reducing himself to the role of a stunt cock, just to keep you loyal to the Lin Kuei. Erotic thoughts banished the angry tears back into whatever well from which they sprung.

You were certain you couldn't have understood him correctly. Maybe he meant “imagine what I'd do if I were in his shoes planning my next move” or something.

You asked him to repeat himself, to clarify his orders.

“That was an offer, not an order,” he said, “I'm at your disposal. I meant it when I said I'd do anything to have rest assurance that your oaths still mean something. Use me however you wish. Make me sneak away with you if that's what excites you. I won't make you keep me a secret, yet if you desire it, I'll take our secrets with me to my grave. Whatever you want from him, I'll do my best to provide you in his stead.”

“You're offering… sex?” you asked incredulously.

“If that interests you, then yes. Whenever you want him, whenever your desire for him burns away your strength, leaves you weak, needy, or desperate enough to leave us, I want you to consider coming to me first. You won't have to explain yourself, and I do not expect you to banish all thoughts of him.”

Words failed you.

He allowed the uncomfortable silence to linger a bit too long.

He inched closer, hovered over you where you sat in a small but growing puddle of your own wetness. His face lingered near yours, his breath against your flushed cheek. You pressed your knees together. He murmured toward your ear, in a hauntingly familiar mimicry.

“Pretend I'm him,” he said in Kuai Liang's voice.

He continued to warp his timbre to mimic his brother's softer, hoarse intonation. And, for the first time in your life, you dared to interrupt him.

“Does that interest you? If not tonight, then later-” he asked.

“Tonight. Tonight, please,” you whispered.

“As you wish,” he said, perfectly mocking his brother's voice.

He leaned in until the bridge of his nose almost met yours. He stilled himself. His gaze invited you to make the first move: cognizant of the amount of power he held over you, he required a great deal of assurance that you truly wanted to do it. He let his warm thumbs caress your cheeks as he waited for you.

You shut your eyes, pressed your lips shut, pressed the shut lips against his, and kissed. He kissed back.

His lips were different from Kuai Liang's. They were firm, fitting. Kuai's lips were supple and plump enough to surround yours when kissed like this. Bi-Han’s lips could only give yours that surrounded feeling by parting just enough to gently suck your kisses, while gliding his tongue against them to tease them open.

You trembled, imagining what this sensation would feel like on your clit. You whimpered into the kiss despite yourself. You couldn't imagine this kiss as one of Kuai Liang's; Bi-Han’s kiss tasted like minty whitening gel and expensive honeyed tea. Kuai Liang’s kiss smells like smoke, tastes exactly like one might expect that a man who breathes fire and eats pussy should taste like. It was too different. It was Bi-Han. You were letting the grandmaster slip his honeyed tongue into your kisses, and into your dreams; You couldn't let yourself pretend otherwise.

You remembered the way you would melt just to feel Kuai Liang breathing. How you'd melt to feel his hands on your back. How you'd feel to be enveloped in his embrace. Bi-Han’s body was not so comfortable as Kuai Liang's. You remembered Kuai Liang's thick arms felt strong but pliant. You held Bi-Han’s biceps in your hands. They felt more like polished mahogany, stiff, smooth. The density of the man's arms was unlike what you were accustomed to; but the feeling raised your temperature.

You pushed back on his chest, pulled yourself away, and broke the kiss. He let you break the kiss, and waited for you to explain.

“Do you still feel okay?” he asked.

“Yes, it's just different.”

“Is it too different?”

“You taste different,” you said.

“What should I taste like,” he asked.

Fixated on the thought of his tongue on your clit, you bit your lip and parted your knees slightly from muscle memory. You were remembering times when Kuai Liang tasted like you in the moments after he tongued open your pussy.

When you didn't answer his question in words, he studied your body language, noting that your legs were no longer pressed together. Fear of impropriety forced you to hide this sexual part of yourself from your grandmaster for as long as you could remember.

“Ah,” he said as if reading your mind, “is that where you want me?”

“Yes, yes I want you there, but with kisses. Kisses please. I want your kisses, there. I need you to kiss me the way you did just now, only, down there,” you finally answered, keeping your eyes closed for the duration of your confession.

“You like my kisses that much?” He asked.

The sound of a smile painted his voice.

“Mmm-hmm,” you answered, “I like your kisses, I haven't had any kisses since you left for ying fortress…”

Sub-Zero realized your statement was true whether you were pretending to address him as Scorpion or not - either way, you haven't had any play since “he” left for ying fortress. He let his hands wander along your hips, stroked over your belly below the naval, just to watch you squirm.

“That sounds rough. No kisses, none at all?” he teased.

“Nooo, none! What about you?”

He shifted into his natural, gravely tiger-purr voice to whisper an answer.

“I can't speak for him on that topic, but for me it's been a long while. A lot longer than Ying Fortress.” he confessed.

Part two link here

To See My External Masterlist, Click Here

[georgegraphys]

Wasn't gonna talk about F1 today and continue posting Erling and football stuff but...

The fuck is his problem?

It is ONE thing to acknowledge that Logan Sargeant might not be the best driver in Formula One but it is ANOTHER thing to say unnecessary things like this.

I don't fully know the context and I hope someone can educate me on the context better. Like was he asked about this that prompted him to answer the question with such an answer or was he just simply being a bitch? But nonetheless, there are millions of better ways to answer a question without such a statement. Provoked or not this is rude as fuck. Unless he got baited, he is still a dick for this type of answer.

Me or you don't need to be a Logan fan to know that this statement is unnecessarily stupid and bitchy from James Vowles. Logan is still his driver. What the fuck with the continuous disrespect? Does James Vowles know that regardless of the performance or merit his employee brings to the team, it is still HIS job to give respect to his employee? Because it is literally his decision to bring Logan in to the team for 2024. He can't be a dick to his own choice. That's stupid. If he wants to boot Logan out of the team then do it since 2023??? But instead of doing that, he pulled the angelic caring dad-figure TP bullshit PR move. Instead of also bringing closure to Logan's future in F1, he kept playing unnecessary mind games, being arrogant, continuously disrespecting his employee, thinking that his F1 team is an important big team when they currently have nothing except the remnants of their past glory? They can never return to their glory if they keep this arrogant act up. "Oh Ari but it's the leader only-" a leader reflects on how the institution works, he leads the team, his behaviour reflects on the organizational behaviour and culture. If he fails to set the right example to a basic human respect and has a basic human decency, don't expect him to be able to apply it on his team accurately.

I can't think of any great team principals right now. But I can only think of one thing.

This man. He acts like he can guarantee a 100% bounce back for Williams and he acts like he 100% did everything for Williams when he also fed on Jost Capito's hardworking. This arrogant man really thinks he is Pep Guardiola or Jose Mourinho type of boss who can jump shoot a team to success. Someone needs to humble him up. He has zero business to disrespect anyone on his team while acting like his team is the BIG championship winning powerhouse team that they are currently not. His team is still considered a backmarkers and he is doing all this already? Wonder how he'll act when Williams starts being in the middle or on the front row?

To any JVowles shooters out there that might be angry with my rants? Today, he did this to Logan. Tomorrow, it could be your driver. Just because your driver is currently in his good graces, doesn't mean this mf will never pull such shit on them. He would. Maybe one day. Who knows? It's behavioural.

Just because Logan Sargeant is NOT performing well or up to Formula One's standard, DOES NOT mean this mf can speak like this. "Oh but it's harsh tru-" Harsh truth is said directly to the person involved, public humiliation and saying these things to the media is a pathetic act of cowardice. James Vowles gives no respect to one of his employees and he'll do the same thing to another person in the future. Why so? If you can't give bare minimum respect to one person, you'll fail to give others the same thing. No matter how big or small

[skiitter]

hi skitter! i saw your last post wrt solavellan and wanted to share trick's answers from bsky.

i'm not trying to invalidate your feelings about the endgame, but imo it's very clear that solas had to have this closure from mythal or he wouldn't be able to move forward.

Hiiiii! Yeah I've seen em. Tbh I think the end game world states should have been one of two. Either the Mythal ending, or the Solavellan ending. If you have a Solavellan world state, then the conversation with Mythal shouldn't have gone down the way it did. It totally undercuts Lavellan's importance in Solas's growth as a character. In a world where he didn't love her, and they were never together, than Mythal remains the moral center and foundation of his character. She took a spirit of Wisdom and leveraged his loyalty to her against her own pride. Every action from then on, Solas does in her name, especially once the Evanuris kill her. And yes, I know they have a disagreement where she doesn't help him dismantle the Evanuris, but that's because Mythal is the centre of HIS personality, not the other way around.

But, in a world where Solavellan is the default, then Solas went through a much different character growth arc. Yes, he fundamentally ends up in the same place, but the whole point is that she taught him his value as just Solas the person, not this recurring regret. She showed him the possibility of a future. Solas, of course, saw himself and the echoes of his relationship with Mythal, and did not want to repeat the past so, in combination with this alternative future Lavellan represents, he pushes her away.

Lavellan literally says this, that she was the one person capable of getting through to him. Its a big part of why she is SO crucial to his story. Their entire romance is built upon this idea of seen and being seen and understanding someone even if you don't always agree with them and accepting that they are who they are. Mythal quite literally forced Solas to change on a fundamental, core level from Wisdom into Pride. And while Lavellan (rightfully) challenges his beliefs, she does so from a place of equality and respect. They respect one another. And that respect is fucking shat on in Veilguard tbh.

If you do not set a worldstate for Inquisition, than Solavellan IS the default. Therefore, it is expected that many players, esp new ones, will see this relationship play out. Therefore, it is not a leep imho to expect SOME representation of Lavellan's importance to him in the literal embodiment of his past and his regrets that is the Lighthouse, the Crossroads, and the entire Mythal statue/Wolf statue quest line,

She quite literally comes up in One Line of dialogue Rook can have with Solas, and that's it. Which, fine, he's been lying to Rook since the beginning, so why would he say anything to her. But to have this obvious and distinct absence of Lavellan in the place he lived, in these rooms where he stores his fucking belongings, is insulting. To compound upon that, Lavellan does 100% of the work in this game when it comes to them.

We get one (1) codex letter that he wrote her right before the ritual. That is the only time they interact At All outside of the end game. This total lack of interaction stems from the much larger problem that is the absence of the Inquisitor at all, Solavellan or not. I will die on the hill that it makes zero sense for the inquisitor not to be actively and specifically involved in finding and stopping Solas. Them just Vibin' in the south when the blight hits makes zero sense.

I'm ranting, I'm sorry. I'm just so upset about this. Lavellan comes to him at his lowest point and says, once more, "i am here, i see you, you are not alone. together, vhenan" etc. etc. and solas just says No. Now, look, I get how crucial Mythal is. I see the parallels, but in a world where he loves Lavellan, than it should be HER opinion that undoes him in the end. Because that's the point. "I would not have you see what I become" Because her opinion is based on the understanding and mutual respect that the share.

Mythal is no longer his keeper. he's no longer bound to the version of Solas she forced him to become. So while I think she serves a purpose in the Solavellan ending, it should be Lavellan that saves him. Because that's her whole point. The whole essence of it. I'm not saying I'm capable in any capacity of writing a better ending, I just know a better one should have existed.

I am not trying to come off as rude or ranting at you, I'm just ranting. I (and so so so sos so sosososo many others) waited a very long time for the pay off to this relationship and I'd rather have absolutely nothing at all than this weird version we got where Solas treats her like a passing fling that dilligently follows him into the fade without a second thought. As if she wouldn't once more challenge him to be the version of himself he actually is. He shows her no respect and she shows him all of it. The inequality of it all kills me.

iUHGLSUHSDHG sorry. This is so long. I will shut up now.

[burningvelvet]

to cope with my post-binge blues from watching black sails, i just finished the treasure island audiobook. it's my first time with any treasure island media - now i have to watch the muppets movie. any way here are my thoughts:

- i knew the character of trelawney had to be based on the romantic era edward john trelawny of byron/shelley fame and I WAS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sources: WONG, AMY R. “The Poetics of Talk in Robert Louis Stevenson’s ‘Treasure Island.’" A Sandison Robert Louis Stevenson and the Appearance of Modernism

- i know that black sails isn't fully intended to be a perfect prequel or meant to be taken as filling in all of the gaps to treasure island but i'm still going to compare & contrast the two lol

- billy spending his whole life obsessed with flint and having alcohol withdrawal induced hallucinations about him. OMG. and i'm shocked that they just casually dropped that he visited flint in georgia to get the map like did flint request to see him before he died, was it just about the map, or did he want closure about the whole thing, did billy seek flint out, why didn't they kill each other, how the fuck did that whole thing go? i need more information dammit

- saw another post on here talking about how in black sails flint has that speech about the drunk guy named flint asking his grandpa for rum before disappearing into the sea and then in treasure island we find out flints last words were asking a "darby mcgraw" for rum before he died SO IN THE BLACK SAILS UNIVERSE DARBY IS HIS GRANDPA and so im wondering DID FLINT 1.0 EVER EXIST AT ALL OR WAS IT SIMPLY FORESHADOWING ALL ALONG but at the same time it doesnt matter because the black sails creators said the ending is intentionally canonically up to interpretation and black sails canon and treasure island canon dont match up any way but still it gives us so much to think about bc we never canonically find out who the fuck darby is

- the doctor is the funniest character ever and him giving zero shits about billy or silver is hilarious LMAO

- rly enjoy the descriptions of the contents of billy's pockets and chest. i love old shit and that whole nautical aesthetic ugh. im currently wondering about the significance of the five sea shells billy had (jim wonders abt them too) if they were souvenirs from the island or what... but we never find out!!

- and what the fuck was up with those black spots I NEED ANSWERS! It worked on Billy but not Silver?

- having grown up on PotC i'm very enthused at the references (the song, the rum, "dead mens chest," etc)

- wish we saw more of jims mom, she was lowkey a badass for a moment there telling everyone off and willing to face the wrath of the pirates with her son lol

- love how the men just take jim on for his valour and then decide to make him a cabinboy and the mom just gets a replacement son to help her around the house lmaoooo i wonder if that was a common thing for single women to do though?

- long john silver has a sort of jekyll/hyde personality (btw the author stevenson also wrote jekyll/hyde for those of you who dont know!) - also why the fuck did they leave him to his own devices toward the end and not have a gun on him 24/7 like? i was also shocked that he didnt run off with all the gold only some of it. most chaotic character ever

- my biggest questions are why did black sails take out the alcoholism and the sea shanties? but importantly the alcholism - if they were going for gritty, as they were? flint and billy's alcoholism is integral to their characters (defines their characters actually) in the book as contrasted by silvers moderation & thats rly interesting. and the lack of singing is just boring - pirates rly did have sea shanties - however i can understand for time constraints per episode and whatnot them taking out the singing for practicality - but the alcoholism again is integral to those characters as well as being historically accurate and realistic & would have added a lot imo

EDIT: immediately after posting this i realized that since there are a few years between the treasure burial and flint's supposed death in georgia, he could have become a drunk in that time if we're creating a black sails to treasure island timeline, and billy wouldn't have become a drunk til later on since black sails is set roughly 20 yrs before treasure island.

HOWEVER - by the talks of it in treasure island, and all the pirates referring to flint as a drunk etc., it would still seem that flint was always that way when they knew him, prone to drinking... but at the same time i guess you could say all the characters are jollier than in black sails as indicated by their singing and their more stereotypical piratey ways.

however i still think the alcoholism & addiction theme would have added an extra layer to everything especially after flints sad drunk scene with eleanor. also in toby stephens deep fathoms interview he said flint is essentially like an addict when it comes to his delusion & desires. anyway i digress

transcript here, audio is on youtube: https://www.justsaypodcast.com/blog/2018/12/18/transcript-interview-with-toby-stephens-of-black-sails

[booksandchainmail]

oniisama e, episode 36

despite everything, life goes on

weird to think that next year at Seiran there'll be all these new students who never knew Sainte-Juste

it's just summer break now... this whole story takes place in like three months

what the doctor is saying here seems promising: "you were discharged recentlyish so I'd like to do more frequent monitoring if you're not too busy" is not what they say if you're dying

I think Kaoru had come to terms with her own death. She's always seemed very focused on living her life to the fullest in a way that makes me think she didn't expect to have much time. She threw all her energy into a single (apparently very achievable) goal, to accomplish something concrete with what she had left. And also I think to try and help Rei, to get her closest friend to a healthier place for when she couldn't be there anymore.

and now she's outlived Rei, who was always flirting with death but still had an entire life ahead of her. And I think probably there was some sense of closure for Kaoru in the idea that she would join her soon.

but now it seems like she won't. she's going to live. which means she has a whole life to figure out, one without Rei

anyways.

they should put a better railing on that overpass

Takashi is absolutely right. The Ichinomiya's are mourning Rei like their daughter in a way they never treated her before.

incredibly fast turnover in that apartment if someone's already moved in two weeks later

... what

... a couple... ok i guess

majorly sideyeing henmi for that age gap

people keep attributing positive qualities to Henmi that aren't really demonstrated because he's mostly not actually in this show

incredible drama points to Kaoru for sweeping of an entire yukata in one motion and then just standing fully naked outdoors for a bit

also, what the fuck is going on with her? until I'm given an answer I'm going to assume it's the thing from Claymore where they all have an open wound full of demon across their entire torso

Nanako providing zero useful context to her parents

cigarettes as incense for Rei is surprisingly appropriate

....does Fukiko know about Kaoru and Henmi? It feels like that would be very relevant to her whole deal

the shadowed void here is hilarious. Show is real committed to not showing whatever is up with Kaoru's chest 23

ok, so just a missing breast... that's not as horrific as this is treating it

ah it's the cancer implications...

that's actually really effective, it lets the show have the clear visual indicator for these shocking reveals, while avoiding the implications of making a purely-cosmetic disfiguration the cause of Kaoru cutting herself off from a future with Henmi

still funny the way they don't actually show it

[hearts401]

1. have to address this cause i saw you said you ship venti with dorian i LOVE that. what the hell is their dynamic tho LMAO cause venti silly as hell (affectionate)

2. KITSUNE SUCROSE SAVE ME i literally. okay its a Super Basic Theory that shes literally just. an anemo kitsune. points at yae. drawn back ears, no tail (most of the time), catalyst user, and we are NEVER TOLD what sucrose actually is, all were really told is that she is not a cat like diona. (if i remember correctly, but my point is i dont think we ever get an actual answer). she lives in mondstadt cause it feels homey cause its the land of wind!!!! and she made friends there!!!! i would die for sucrose okay…. (i also made a joke theory thath has zero evidence that each region has their own elemental kitsune lol but that was sooo long ago idr who i even assigned lol)

3. okay one of my little aus was of course. okay. i should clarify. Dont Like Draff. dont like margaret either shes taking advantage of diona it drives me mad. get that kitten outta there. anyways in one of my aus diona runs away and stows away on a ship to inazuma and gets picked up by yae who likes her spirit and diona gets a good mom and lives in inazuma i literally didnt think farther than that LMAO

oh and also diona finding whoppy in one au and they become buddies 🫶 little mimic kitty flower. catmint. they r best friends.

(anyways fuck draff and margaret dont like em dont like the way they treat diona idk why half the fandom thinks margaret is like a mom to her if margaret cared she wouldnt let a TWELVE YEAR OLD serve ALCOHOL to CREEPY PERVS WHO ASK HER TO MEOW AND TRY TO TOUCH HER EARS AND TAIL i will fight margaret in the cats tail back alley come fucking get me woman)

-cross

VENDORIAN OKAY OKAY SO BASICALLY YKNOW THAT LINE VENTI HAS WHERE THEY SAY "what is freedom if demanded of you by a god?" YEAH SO LIKE. THAT. AND DORIAN WHOS CONVINCED HIS ONLY POSSIBLE WAY OF LIVING IS TO KILL AND REPLACE THE "BETTER" ONE (albedo) SO HES NOT FREE AND LIKE EVEN IF HE SUCCEEDED HE WOULDNT BE FREE HED BE FORCED TO PRETEND TO BE ALBEDO WHICH HES NOT VERY GOOD AT TBH... VENTI SHOWING HIM ITS OKAY TO BE HIS OWN PERSON... Venti being silly and playing their lyre and convincing dorian to chill out while dorian tails them places and reluctantly puts up with their shit and venti opens up about themself and dorian tells them about his own life. durin and dvalin paralleling dorian and venti. just them getting closure together and at first dorian is super reluctant but he warms up to it and venti gives him dragon therapy and he plays music with venti (friendly reminder ventis lyre is what stopped durins rampage.... imagine it had a calming effect on dorian)

I LOOOVE THAT... (i wonder who the kitsune could be for liyue and fontaine) her being a silly kitsune.... omgggggg i love that

DIONA YESSS i ddont like draff much either and frankly mondstadts tendency to employ children (bennett, fischl, klee, diona) is a little odd but. yknow. i like that a lot

WHOPPY AND DIONA..... Thats so funny bc i made a list of mond characters and how dorian felt abt them and she was in his hate section LMAO he has beef w his sons best friand,,,

[hermetiqa]

Hello! First of all thank you so much for performing the readings for me🤍 Here’s my feedback for the readings!

1- the person that it wronged me was someone from my teenage years. You got it right! Also they never apologised to me because they think they did nothing wrong to me.. even if they suddenly apologised to me which is so unlikely since I cut off contacts with them, it is too late and also not needed.

“They might have manipulated you in some way, something that's related to your emotions and maybe even something you're passionate about” yess that’s so accurate! They manipulated me emotionally and gaslighted me to do things that I must do, but actually I am free to do whatever I want, but they couldn’t accept that I didn’t have the same vision as them.

Also it is so accurate that when I have the closure I am more vocal about my boundaries! It is something that I worked out for a while. I found stability in myself and I am very patient with myself, since nobody had that patience with me then I got it from myself.

“Just because you said it doesn't mean that it was real” I like this part so much because they were projecting their life experiences to me and instead of acknowledging that my life and theirs are just different they keep pushing their ideas to me. I hated it so much.

For clarification, this person is not my ex or something, just an official stranger that I would usually talk with. We weren’t even friends so they feel entitled of having a saying over me made me so mad and frustrated.

The last part of this reading does resonate so much because I will welcome only the people that respect me and love me for who I am. I refuse to let random people in my life from now and on.

Also it is something that I am currently manifesting.

I am sure that I almost got closure and will never see my past ever again. That person taught me how I will never let anyone tell me what I can or cannot do because they wanted their version of me that is not me.

2- this confirmed what I knew! And you are absolutely correct that at that time I indeed was hopeful and curious of their answer. This is the same person that I was mentioning previously.

From their personality I was sure to receive insults from them because I was an ungrateful bitch or something but at the end of the day I am glad I never received their answer.

“You need to learn to heal without receiving anything. You shouldn't ask them for "closure" that you deserve because if they really wanted to give you this, you should've had it by now.” I actually I didn’t have any high hopes to receive anything for every connection that I ended. So this part didn’t really resonate with me. For “closure that I deserve” I mean let my past self rest for good. I was tormenting myself because of past experiences, that’s what I meant. I am sorry that I didn’t clarify that.

“I can also see here that if you received a response to your letter, there's a tendency that you won't be able to walk away from the connection.” This is true. If at that time I received their insults then I would be so mad that I would have a hard time to process everything.

“You might wait for them (again) and be patient with them. This person already betrayed you.” I am not waiting for them, heck no lol. But this person did betray my trust. I have zero patience for them and if I have them in front of me I would slap their face for manipulating a fucking teenage me and be the worst guide ever.

“This person has strong masculine energy here and you might've felt safe around them and emotionally connected at some point, but your connection was draining, whether you noticed it or not and whether you admit it or not.” They are a man yes! I did feel safe to tell some of my personal issue because I was looking up to him as a guide and teacher and not someone that would manipulate me because I was disagreeing with his points😃

I don’t remember if I put that much effort in that connection but it did drain my energies the last years that I was talking with him. It seems that I trusted the wrong person from the very beginning but whatever lol.

“Your spirit guide prevented you from receiving an answer to your letter because you've already went through a lot in this connection and you're better off without them.” Yes that’s accurate! That was what I am being told and actually what happened behind my back. I guess I am blessed for not receiving their letter.

These two readings resonated with me 80%! If you practice more I am sure that you will be a very scarily accurate reader! You most of the time did guess right! Your intuition is very good!!

Thank you for your energies and did overall enjoyed my readings🤍

Hello! Thank you so much for the feedback. I'm so sorry to hear that not everything resonated with you, I was trying out a different way of doing the readings when I did the free mini readings. But still, I'm glad you enjoyed your readings! Again, thank you for the feedback. You're such a sweetheart and I appreciate your feedback. It's so detailed!! I wish you well <3

[hyena-frog]

Light Bringer predictions post

I’ve been jotting down notes all day, trying to remember all my big and little predictions for Light Bringer. Some of these have already been discussed to death, some have been idle thoughts floating in my head. But I want to write it all out before LB finally comes out, so I can look back on this and either laugh at my naivete or feel vindicated by my genius.

I’m sure I’m still forgetting some things, so I may end up editing this later.

The new POV is either Diomedes or Volga.

Two or more POVs interact.

Light Bringer starts off in some way no one has theorized, because that's what Pierce Brown does best. (This happened with Dark Age too.)

Pierce Brown introduces even more plot points that won't be resolved until Red God.

There will absolutely be at least three huge things happen that no one predicted or even considered might happen. This is how Pierce Brown do.

Not everything will be resolved by the end of Light Bringer. (This is a given of course; I mean some of the things people are theorizing or want won't happen until next book.)

The Morning Star was originally commissioned by Octavia as a gift to Lysander. Since it is now in enemy hands, it is repaired and handed over to Lysander, as the "rightful" owner.

Cicero becomes important.

Someone we don't expect is sympathetic to the Republic, or is otherwise an unexpected Reformer (ie not Diomedes because everyone suspects him).

There is an epic showdown at Lorn's castle, or on Europa in general.

Rhonna and Char survived and fight on Mercury still.

Holiday remains true to the ideals of the Republic; she was never a traitor, and the people who keep repeating that theory despite having zero evidence will finally shut the fuck up.

We learn more about whatever Oculus is and what Quicksilver's intentions are.

Mickey comes back.

Evey comes back.

Evey is working with the remaining Sons in the Rim.

Faust/The Duke of Hands comes back.

Deanna dies. Holiday dies. Screwface, Pebble, and/or Clown die. I don’t want these to happen but I also don’t want to think about what kind of death made Pierce Brown cry. I don’t truly think any of these would really make him cry, but this is as close as I want to get to considering what the real answer is.

Lysander plots to kill Atalantia.

Atalantia becomes pregnant with Lysander's child but dies by DNA poison backfire.

Atalantia dies, Atlas remains alive to deal with in Red God.

Lysander gets worse, despite the guilt over Cassius.

Lysander doesn't face consequences yet but the winds shift against him.

Ajax seeks revenge on Lysander.

Ajax and Diomedes bond as cousins. Alternatively, they duel, but I think that is too obvious.

Ajax joins Darrow (out of revenge against Atalantia, not love for the Republic).

Cassius confronts Lysander. In person? Over holos? It is epic and emotional.

Pytha turns against Lysander and returns to the Archimedes. Alternatively, she remains with Lysander as a spy for Cassius.

Darrow and Cassius have a heart to heart.

Cassius talks to his mom. For better or worse. Julia will help Cassius despite hating the Republic because he is her only remaining family.

Cassius finds closure with Virginia.

Diomedes/Cassius or Screwface/Cassius becomes canon. Listen, I know these have a snowball's chance in hell, but I can dream.

We get a detailed explanation of how Cassius escaped the Rim. Either Diomedes and Aurae worked together, or Aurae worked independently. There’s not enough information yet to guess.

Cassius meets Pax and Electra; Pax has a celebrity crush on him but Electra is not happy, since Cassius literally murdered her grandpa.

Cassius demonstrates that he has matured as a person.

Cassius faces consequences for killing Fitchner or otherwise expresses regret for doing so.

Cassius returns to Eagle Rest. He repairs it and the city ransacked by Fa.

Lyria finds Volga and they kick Fa's ass together.

Lyria and Volga fall in love.

Volga is changed by her time with Fa, more hardened, but Lyria brings out her kindness again.

Volga gets that damn farm, and a womb, and has a child.

Volga’s heart being on the opposite side becomes plot relevant when Fa tries to kill her but goes for the wrong side of her chest.

Volga becomes queen of the Obsidian.

Valdir shows up again and joins Darrow.

Valdir is confirmed to love Darrow romantically.

Fa is being slowly poisoned by the DNA poison in Sefi after eating her heart. Alternatively, Fa does not get sick, proving he is not her real father.

Pax is involved in the war effort somehow. Maybe helping Lyria? Darrow has complex emotions about this.

Darrow is able to show Pax that he still has his hoverbike key and it's a touching father/son moment.

Darrow and Pax ride the hoverbike together again -- for fun? In battle?

Pax makes more friends his age. Diomedes' younger siblings? Baldur comes back??

Pax struggles with the weight of essentially sending Ephraim to his death; logically he knows it’s not his fault, and that Ephraim knew the risks, but by god, Pax is only a child. Darrow is able to help ease his distress with an epic dad speech or something.

Pax kicks the Abomination's ass.

The Abomination becomes good, or otherwise decides being the Jackal sucks, actually

Lilath dies for real. Painfully. But definitively.

Atlas is the big bad; a blind spot even in the Jackal's plans.

Virginia and Victra save Sevro.

Darrow and Cassius save Sevro.

Sevro is brainwashed by the Jackal and Virginia has to fix him.

Sevro learns what happened to Ulysses. Pierce Brown writes this scene in such a profoundly sad way, the entire the fandom dies instantly.

Darrow and Sevro have a heart to heart.

The Darrow/Sevro/Cassius trio do something epic again, like they did when they stole the Minerva standard in the first book. I am starving for these three.

Cassius is jealous of Darrow/Sevro. I think that would be very funny.

Virginia and Victra bash sisters moment.

Virginia and Victra actually become friends, not friends by virtue of their husbands being best friends.

Mars becomes the capital of the Republic under Virginia.

PsychoSpike tech comes back in a big way, as either a boon or a detriment to the Republic.

Victra is called on by Volga and Lyria to fulfill her promise to aid them whenever they need it.

Darrow and/or Victra will face (or at least be threatened with) consequences for the destruction of the Docks of Ganymede.

Eagle Rest becomes a campus to teach lowcolors important life skills they might lack, following what Sefi was doing for Obsidians, but expanding the idea.

Rhea is resurrected and becomes habitable again; possibly a new home for the Obsidian, depending on how the Rim ends up.

Diomedes joins the Republic/Darrow.

Diomedes is captured by Darrow's crew and comes to an understanding with them while in captivity.

Diomedes discovers Atlas' plans, which include destroying the Rim, which motivates him to join Darrow.

Diomedes becomes Sovereign of the Rim.

Aurae joins the Republic/Darrow with Diomedes. Alternatively, Aurae is revealed to be a Sons of Ares agent, perhaps one of the survivors of the SOA purge in the Rim.

In Iron Gold, Aurae played music during the dinner scene. So my predication is, if she joins Darrow's crew, she will entertain them with music. idk I just think that would be a nice moment.

Diomedes is confirmed to love Aurae (beyond Lysander assuming so for a brief sentence), or at least this is expanded on in some way.

Apollonius tries to duel Diomedes but the latter is Not Interested in a moment of comedy.

Reaperstang reunion??? Please???

We see more of the Raa family, and get to know established members better. Vela, Gaia, Diomedes' remaining siblings, etc.

Virginia, Diomedes, and Volga become a Triumvirate, ruling over Republic, Rim, and Obsidian factions respectfully, in a peaceful political alliance, rather than warring to get everyone under the same empire banner again.

Big damn Reaperstang reunion kiss.

At the end of it all, somehow Darrow's banishment is the only way to maintain peace.

Darrow is believed to be dead throughout Light Bringer, until an epic reveal at the very end. This miraculous second resurrection is why he is the Red God.

Darrow lives. He lives and he is happy. (Shh I know there is another book coming, let me have this.)

[arcplaysgames]

yeah because Mitsuo is not the killer, I know this, you know this, we all know this

if finding a fake killer gets me tuna tho i'm in, i'll frame a man every day, i don't care

WAIT WAIT THE STORYBOOK FROM THE SUN LINK IN P3P GOT PUBLISHED? Man its a dark children's book. Beautiful but nihilistic. You know the kids who read that are going to have a lot of difficult questions their parents do not wanna answer. Good, though.

Summer Festival! Nanako is adorable. AND GET THIS. BRACE YOURSELVES. MAKE SURE YOU ARE SITTING DOWN AND HOLDING ONTO SOMETHING.

DOJIMA ACTUALLY SHOWS UP TO TAKE CARE OF HIS DAUGHTER. I KNOW. I KNOOOOOOW. Shocking. Usually this girl is being raised by six teenagers and the human personification of a mascot character.

A STUNNING turn of events!

Teddie is such a manipulator lmao. First he suggests everyone pair off to enjoy the festival bc That's What You Do At Festivals, then gets the boys deliberating who should go with who, then while everyone is all turned around, he swoops in to take all the girls out around the festival so no one is 'left out.'

lmao. i love Teddie. I'm actually trying to pin down why Yosuke's horny boy bullshit annoys me but Teddie does not. It may be because he's SO flagrant about it, he's SO over the top, you know going in its a Yes, And scenario. Or, you can slap him, lmao.

After, Rise invited me out to a one on one date to the festival. She's very funny and boisterous but I think I'm friendzoning everyone in this playthru. I haven't found anyone I wanna date. And I know there is one more option coming so I don't want to accidentally pen myself in, like with Akihiko and late-comer Aigis. Poor Aigis.....

Not about to let anyone begin to assume he's a good dad, over in the Hierophant SLink, Dojima reveals that his wife died in a hit and run while Nanako was in nursery school. Which explains why Nanako barely remembers her.

Dojima's whole deal is that he's still working that case, still trying to find out who killed his wife. He claims its for Nanako, that someday in the future, she'll appreciate it.

And listen. The trauma of your spouse being murdered is not a joke. That's really heavy stuff. Your life falls apart as a pillar is just suddenly taken out, and surviving the loss of that kind of load-bearing structure is very fucking hard. I got zero judgement there.

However. Nanako doesn't give a shit. Her mother is a distant figure that doesn't affect her life anymore but via her absence. There is zero doubt in my mind that Nanako would remember Dojima more fondly as a man who stepped up to be her fucking father rather than having the closure for, sorry, a woman she has likely already forgotten the face of.

So again: get your shit together, Dojima.

SUMMER BEACH EPISODE. lmao poor kanji on his bike. also, Teddy is in bear mode. WHY is Teddie in bear mode? That seems much harder to travel with.

I'm not even gonna squint at Yosuke. Yosuke, someday, you will look back on your youth and feel so goddamn embarrassed at yourself. You are the very model of a modern repressed bisexual.

LMAO irl cackling. his response is so blaise. "why would i????" hahaha

lmao i missed it but chie and kanji were racing at like mach speed.

Of course because we need shenanigans, Teddie has been pulling at swimsuits to no avail. Well, almost no avail.

Hey, what is with the lightning bruiser boys and their tiny swimsuits, lmao. We are creating such a Specific trope here with them, it's bemusing. The venn diagram is something all right.

(Wait i JUST fucking noticed that Kanji has a fucking scar in the exact same place Akihiko does. What the fuck. That is a WILD coincidence.)

FUCKING YOSUKE AND REVERIE'S AVERTED GAZES LMAO. gdi teddie.

the voice acting here is a fucking treat, i cannot tell you enough.

everyone's doing amazing, sweetie

compared to the spring camping trip, this is a ten out of ten

[t4tpumpkinduo]

aheem heem 12 and then like. all of the 20s?

YES KISSA YOU O7 doing dsmp ones uhm

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

well you already know what the hell i'm going to say...ceeschlatt i'm so sorry he only did some of that you guys are so annoying. i think a huge chunk of his story is just like. Canonically Textually way deeper and more sympathetic and more complicated than people want to acknowledge. guys will have direct blatent narrative foil parallels of their mistakes to their blorbo of choice but only one side will get a million excuses and only one side will get their pov analyzed. OK 👍. telephone game ass fanbase. read the parallel storyline of what would've happened had pogtopia won read the nov 16 script look at the canonical smplive isms analyze why someone would want to "revive someone for political power" desperate style after a funeral where it was Blatantly Clear that person has absolutely Zero Power and it paralleling the post charlie death insanity. and then you will calm down!!

honorable mention to ceefundy as well. i wouldn't say he's unpopular unpopular but goddamn. despite the fact he's so interesting and cool and inpactful and represents huge chunks of Core Themes, he just gets ignored and infantalized and has so much of his story plain Erased because it's inconvenient to other characters. Fucked!!!

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

ceeranboo so sorry ok. iget why people like him i do but he is so so bland to me. shepards tone empty promise of a character. to me. some of his implications were pretty interesting, especially when it came to things that were more complicated, the exile isms the being knowingly complicit in ctommy prison murder or him drinking ableist copium abt tubbo being kind of unhinged. the centristism sometimes feeling less waffly and more like he's trying to people please to the point of exploding. too bad i do not care ☝️🔛🔝

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

and if i say tntduo..it's been so overhyped it overshadows everyone else it overshadows their own damn characters entire arcs and decisions and then the whole story itself they are not allowed to be anything except eachothers klance bait which was equally as mid. i do think there is value to it but at this point i am so exhausted about the oc versions being treated like canon when on screen its so bad out here sometimes. ppl going ohhh we never got resolution :[ ,,,.ccwilbur blatantly said what would've happened in the final tntduo stream. cwil would show back up to lnv in the same set up of his apologies but its a bait and switch that pivots into insulting q again and then finish it up w oh hey maybe yr not so bad after all 😂 and then he gives him a fist bump and leaves. there's yr closure. lea me alone

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

i already said i think pumpkinduo is like funny comedy mallets for crazy people but i think most other things get attention properly? el rapids deserved more hype tho i srs think it would change how people see a lot of the characters involved

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

im not sure? weird shit is a given but other than that who rlly care <- edit: HELP i misread the question i thought it was asking what you are Unwilling to come around to. so sorry. to answer the actual question uhm,,still not very sure hheheh im very solid in my dislikes and likes and complaints

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

exile and the prison for sure :heart_hands: /RETCH. sure other things are very annoying but the levels these two arcs get to are Awful and Telling and Shitty the media illiteracy is off the charts. how you can watch streams with your eyes closed and ears closed and without registering the words or characters on the screen. what's going on. anyways if cdrm thinks torture is so bad maybe he should not talk about eye for an eye when he had tortured three people before he was even in the prison. but okay. also rip prison arc sam the world wasn't ready for a character like you 🙏

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

i'm not sure? what are the most common complaints i do happen to agree with a lot of them i think

[rizlowwritessortof]

Cowboy Rescue - Part 1

I have had this WIP going for AGES. I’ve finally decided that maybe if I start posting chapters, it might drive me to get it completed. (It’s complete in my head, but just getting the words down... that’s another story) I’m going to post a chapter at a time, once a week (working on the 4th, and there will probably be a total of 5 and probably an epilogue) and a fic master list once it’s done. I hope you enjoy it!

Cory makes an impulsive decision to drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Montana, accepting an invitation from an old boyfriend, hoping to put closure to their failed long-distance relationship. When circumstances leave her lost in the Montana countryside in the blizzard of the century, local rancher Dean Winchester comes to her rescue. He is far too tempting to resist, but is she getting herself into just another hopeless long-distance situation? 

Pairing: Rancher Dean Winchester x OC Cory Tate

Word Count: 2839

Warnings: None. Fluff, a little angst, and eventual smut. 

Dividers by the ever-lovely @firefly-graphics​ - thank you, Daisy! 

Cory fought the steering wheel, trying to regain control, but her little SUV headed straight for the ditch. A cloud of white engulfed her as the front end completely disappeared into a huge drift, the back end sliding slowly farther in as it settled and sank into the ever-deepening snow.

“Fuck!” She slammed her hands against the wheel, throwing her head back against the seat in frustration. Now what was she going to do?

Worst day ever. First of all, the bridge on the main highway was out due to an ice jam that had damaged it, and the detour took her into a maze of gravel roads that soon had her lost. Then this unexpected blizzard, slowly worsening to the point of zero visibility, and now her car was buried in this frigid hell and she had no idea where she was. She picked up her cell phone, not surprised at all to see ‘no service’ on the screen.

“Of course. I always wanted to freeze to death in the wilderness of Montana.” A baleful glare aimed at the sky, she shouted, “If you wanted to kill me, why didn’t you just drop a meteor on my head!”

She shut off the engine, glancing at the fuel gauge. The tank was about three quarters full, so at least there was that. She’d have to bundle up and make sure the tailpipe was clear of snow so she didn’t gas herself, but she could run the heater intermittently to keep from freezing, at least. The emergency kit in the trunk had water and candles, protein bars, all the necessities for survival, but it would definitely not be fun.

She was deep in thought, preparing herself for the trip outside to grab her supplies and clear the exhaust, when a pounding on her door made her shriek in fright. Heart hammering in her chest, she peered out into the snow to see the dark silhouette of a rather large person looming outside her window. She could make out a muffled man’s voice as he shouted to be heard through her car door. “Are you hurt?”

She squinted her eyes, looking out in his direction, and shaking her head. “No, not hurt. Just stuck.”

He nodded, and spoke again. “Well, bundle up, you can ride with me to my place, it’s just down the road.”

“Oh, thank you!” she replied, relief flooding through her. She grabbed her gloves and stocking cap, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and took a deep breath before opening the door. It would barely move, and the man outside took hold to force it open far enough for her to slide out. “Thank you!” she shouted again, her voice almost lost in the howling wind.

They got the door closed again, and she locked it, shoving the keys deep into her coat pocket. The snow was mid-thigh high on her, and she gratefully took the man’s hand, letting him help pull her up to the road. It was still deep, but at least she could navigate somewhat, and she looked around for his vehicle.

“This way,” he yelled, and she followed him a few yards, then stopped dead in her tracks.

“That’s a horse!”

“Yep!” he answered. “Nothing with four wheels is gettin’ around in this mess.”

Okay, maybe freezing in her car wasn’t all that bad, she thought in a panic. She followed him closer, watching as he effortlessly climbed onto the animal’s back. “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” she yelled, her voice mostly lost in the storm.

“It’s okay, I do.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice, and she blushed, not that he could see it. “Here, give me your hand. Put your left foot up in the stirrup and just boost yourself up, swing your leg over. I’ll help you.” She grasped his large hand in both of hers, and after a couple of false starts, she launched herself upward with his help, managing to straddle the huge animal behind her benefactor. “Now, scoot up close behind me and put your arms around my waist. We don’t have too far to go.”

She did as she was told, thankful that his broad back blocked most of the wind from her face, and she held on for dear life as he urged the horse forward. “How can you even see where we’re going?” she shouted, completely disoriented by the swirling white around them.

“I can’t very well, but don’t worry. Whiskey knows her way home.”

She was sheltered from most of the wind, but in the ten to fifteen minutes it took them to reach his place, she was shivering uncontrollably from the bitter cold. He urged the horse forward until they stood right in front of the large barn, then turned slightly to speak again. “Okay, just take hold again, step in the stirrup, and I’ll help you get down. We’ll have to go in the barn for a couple of minutes so I can take care of the horse, then I’ll get you inside. It’s warm in here,” he promised. She let go of his waist, taking his proffered hand and slipping down sideways until her foot could reach the stirrup. He held her securely until she was on the ground, then swung down himself, reaching for the reins to guide the horse inside.

She followed, pulling the big door closed behind them, instantly grateful for the barn heater up high on the wall, keeping the interior livable for the animals inside. There were a couple more horses in stalls farther in, and empty stalls on the other side. “Can I help with something?” she asked, rubbing her hands together and looking up into his face, what she could see of it. The collar of his shearling coat was pulled up, his cowboy hat securely in place and his eyes were barely visible above a snow-crusted bandanna.

“Yeah, that storage closet right there? Can you hand me a couple of towels?”

She nodded, grabbing two of the big, fluffy towels from a shelf and handing them over. He proceeded to rub his horse down, drying her off and warming her up, and Cory could hear him talking softly to her as he worked. “Good girl, Whiskey,” he said as he finished up, reaching deep in his pocket for a couple of sugar cubes. “You deserve a treat. You got us home safe.” Whiskey nickered in reply, nudging her nose into his shoulder before ducking her head to nibble the sugar from his gloved hand. He turned to lift the lid on a wooden container nearby and scooped some oats into the feeding trough, then gave the animal a final pat and left the stall, latching it securely behind him. He turned to face Cory, nodding his head towards the house. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

She followed closely behind him, still blinded by the swirling snow, and he pulled off a glove, reaching down deep into the pocket of his jeans for the key. He switched on a light as they stepped into the house, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth. “You can hang your stuff up there, I’ll find you something dry to put on.”

Cory removed her outer layers, amazed at the amount of snow clinging to them, and took off her boots, brushing the snow from the legs of her jeans onto the rug by the door. A shiver ran through her, and she turned to face her rescuer as he kicked his boots off. “Thank you again. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come by. I was just planning to get my emergency stuff from the trunk and clear the exhaust pipe so I could keep from completely freezing to death, but it would have been miserable.”

“I’m glad I saw you go in the ditch, otherwise I might’ve missed you.” He stood,  setting his boots next to the door, and turned to look at her with a smile. Her breath caught for a moment as she stared back at him, stunned into silence as she took in his appearance, finally remembering to smile back. He was a breathtaking specimen of a man, tall and lean, his green eyes crinkled at the corners, his tongue darting out over his perfectly-shaped lips, which were framed by a well-trimmed beard. He ran his fingers through his hat-tousled hair, and she forced herself to breathe and respond.

“Well, thank you again for the cowboy rescue.” He laughed, and she grinned back at him. “Hey, you picked me up on a horse, so… it fits. I’m Cory, by the way. Cory Tate.”

“Dean Winchester. Cowboy rescue. Nice. So – let me go find you some dry clothes.” He disappeared through a doorway, returning shortly with some folded garments in hand. “Sorry, these are gonna be way too big for you, but at least they’ll get you by until yours can dry out. There’s a shower in the guest room, if you want to take a hot shower.”

“That sounds awesome, thank you. Which way?”

Dean pointed to a doorway. “Down that hall, second door. I’m gonna go shower, then I can rustle us up some food. Maybe a drink.” He winked, then turned to head back towards his room.

Cory stood in front of the mirror in the guest room, feeling like a child wearing her daddy’s clothes. The sweat pants he had given her were miles too long, and she had tucked and rolled them as much as she could manage, but the waist was another issue. The sweatshirt was huge, but she didn’t mind that as much, as long as she could keep the pants up. Maybe Dean had a safety pin somewhere she could borrow. His socks were way too big as well, but at least her feet were warm.

She peered out the door timidly, then stepped out, one hand holding the pants up, and let her eyes wander around the room. The house was beautiful, old but obviously well-cared-for. The glow of real polished oak and gleaming hardwood floors gave it a warmth that she admired, a far cry from her cold, neutral color apartment. A large stone fireplace, fire just beginning to crackle and pop, took up a big portion of one wall, and a comfy-looking sofa sat nearby, a gorgeous woven rug and large coffee table completing the cozy area.

She heard a sound from the next room and ventured further, stepping through the doorway into a large, homey kitchen. Dean was just putting a skillet on the stove, and turned to face her as she shuffled in. A little burst of laughter escaped before he clamped his lips shut, his eyes shining with suppressed mirth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but you are drowning in my clothes.”

Cory joined in, blushing a little. “Well, I could really use a safety pin, if you have one. Or a belt? I feel like I’m going to walk right out of these pants.”

“Sorry I don’t have anything that would fit you better. Hang on, I’ll grab the belt from my robe, that should work.” He left her there alone for a moment, returning with the belt, and she took it gratefully, turning her back to get it in place, much more comfortable now that her – well, his – pants wouldn’t wind up around her ankles.

“Thank you! This is so much better. I still look like a little kid playing dress-up, but...”

Dean laughed again, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge. “I promise, tomorrow I’ll take the snowmobile out and bring your bags from the car. So, omelets okay with you? I’ve got bacon, mushrooms, cheese, onions – whatever you want in it.”

“That sounds amazing. I didn’t realize how hungry I am. Can I help cut veggies or anything?” Soon she was perched on a bar stool next to the island, chopping onion and cutting up mushrooms while Dean whisked the eggs. Her eyes kept roaming as she worked, watching the play of muscle in his back beneath the soft ivory henley he was wearing. And his sweat pants fit him much better than they fit her. Much, much better. She mentally shook her head at herself and tried to focus on the task at hand before she cut off her own finger.

“So, Cory – where are you from?” Dean asked, pouring eggs into a skillet.

“Tulsa, Oklahoma. I’ve lived there for a couple of years now. I grew up in South Dakota, though.”

“What the hell brought you to Montana in the middle of a blizzard?” he asked, tending to the bacon, which was making her stomach growl.

She laughed. “Well, mostly stupidity. Kind of a long story...”

“I got no place to go,” he said, shooting her a grin over his shoulder.

“Okay, you asked for it,” she smiled back. “So, I dated this guy for – well, pretty much from the time I moved into Tulsa. A couple of months ago, he got a job in Billings, and that was that. We did the whole ‘we’ll visit each other’ thing, but – never happened, and the phone calls died pretty quickly, too. But last week he called me, said there was a party – tonight, actually – with some new work friends he’d met, and he invited me to come up.” Cory slipped off the bar stool and took the plate of chopped veggies over to Dean, who began to add them to the eggs cooking on the stove. She leaned back against the counter and continued. “I debated, because obviously, neither of us was desperately dying without the other, you know? But I decided, if I just came up here, and it felt like it was over, then I could just close that chapter and move on. I mean, I could have anyway, but – since he called… I don’t know. See? Stupid.”

He smiled over at her. “No, not stupid. Nothing wrong with making sure before you close the door. I get it.”

“Well, obviously I’m not going to make it to the party, so…”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Oh, well. Everything happens for a reason, right?”

When the food was finished, Dean handed her a plate and pointed to a nearby drawer. “Silverware’s in there. Want to eat in front of the fireplace? I usually do, but we can go to the dining room if you want...”

“No, that sounds great. I wish I had one at home. I always loved our fireplace when I was growing up.”

They carried their plates with them into the living room and settled in on the large sofa, and Cory sighed contentedly. “This is nice. So – your turn, I spilled my love life, so it’s only fair,” she teased with a smile. She took a bite of her omelet and closed her eyes with an appreciative “Mmmm. This is amazing.”

Dean grinned. “Thanks. Being really hungry makes everything taste better.” He finished a bite from his own plate before speaking again. “So, love life. At the moment, I don’t have one.”

“I can’t believe there’s not someone out there dying to be Mrs. Dean Winchester.”

“I’ve dated a couple of women over the last two years. The first one for over a year, but when I finally brought her out here – let’s just say the shine wore off fast. She was definitely not up for country life. She was too afraid of breaking a nail or getting dirty to do anything, and she hated the animals. They were too big and they smelled bad.”

“Oh, no...”

“Yeah. And the next one – all she wanted to do was go out. Clubs, restaurants, theaters, shopping - she always wanted to do something noisy and crowded and expensive. I don’t mind spending money, don’t get me wrong, but – I like to just sit and watch the stars sometimes, or take a walk, be somewhere I can hear myself think. I finally came to the conclusion that it takes a special kind of woman to want to live this kind of life. It’s not for everybody. Definitely wasn’t for those two.”

They chatted as they finished their food, and Dean laughed softly as Cory yawned. “Sorry. Guess I’m more exhausted than I realized.”

“Here, I’ll take your plate. Go, get some sleep. If you need more blankets, there are extras in that chest at the foot of the bed.”

She gave him a grateful smile as she stood. “Dean, thank you. For the rescue, and the hospitality. I wish I could repay you.”

He responded with a crooked smile, shaking his head. “No need. It’s been nice to have somebody to talk to.” He watched as she headed for the bedroom. “Sleep well. Yell if you need something.”

“Thanks, Dean. Good night.”

He watched her disappear down the hall, then smiled to himself as he grabbed their dishes and headed for the kitchen.

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[lyrebright]

Hi!! Read your recent fic, it’s so good! But about the AN, may I ask why you didn’t like the ending of the game, if it’s not too much?

Hi! I'm glad you liked my fic. And sure, I can give you an answer--I'll do my best to not just start ranting angrily because honestly thinking about it makes me want to start crying again.

I'll post it under a cut because Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is still so new--if you haven't beaten the game, don't click on it, because here there be spoilers.

So the thing is. Xenoblade 3?

This is basically how I felt about the game. The setting, the style, the cast...it all felt like it was made for me. It was, genuinely, a perfect 100 for me until the last five minutes.

Let me try to be concise as I explain this.

The main issues I take with the ending can basically be summed up as:

It comes out of nowhere.

It betrays the themes of the game.

As the intended finale of the Xenoblade Chronicles trilogy it falls immensely short because of a mix of all these other points.

Considering the endings the XBC1 and XBC2 casts got, this one really feels like a slap in the face.

It, and I cannot express this enough, makes everything you do pointless. None of it mattered, it was all for nothing.

Now, let me explain these points in more depth:

It comes out of nowhere.

Maybe some gigachads with universe brains could sense where this was headed, but I could not. I think this was part of the issue, honestly--it felt to me sort of as if they wanted it to be a twist emotional gutpunch, and thus never telegraphed it to the player, leading to the player being caught off guard entirely.

What I thought would happen is that we would simply reclaim Origin and continue on in Aionios, rebuilding and experiencing life not on a timer. It seemed to me that the issue was that Z had taken control of Origin and frozen Aionios in stasis, not that the worlds needed to split again. It honestly came out of left field and took me out of what should have been an emotional moment, a triumphant moment, as I scrambled to understand what the hell was going on.

It betrays the themes of the game.

This is one of the big ones for me. XBC3 claims itself to be a game about life, and yes, it is--but it's about grief and moving on, it's about the past and letting it go, it's about facing the future you chose and fighting for the freedom to choose in the first place.

And yet, in the end, there is no choice. Against their will, the people of Aionios are split apart, after finally uniting. And yet, in the end, it's not the future that is chosen, because everything resets back to fucking zero. But I'll get more into that in another point.

As the intended finale of the Xenoblade Chronicles trilogy it falls immensely short because of a mix of all these other points.

I can tell you that when I finish a game, I want to leave it satisfied, if not happy. And when I finish a series, I want to leave it the same way.

At the ending of Xenoblade 3, I was in disbelief and shock. I was sending messages to my friends on discord in complete rage. I was sobbing in my bed at midnight and crying myself to sleep not because of the cathartic release of emotion I like to experience from fiction, but because I felt like the game had just stabbed me in the back. There was no closure, and there was definitely no happiness. I was excited, to go into the "postgame" and pick up Nia and Melia, to finish my sidequests and hero ascensions. To fill out the rest of my maps and fight the remaining unique monsters. To try my hand at the superbosses.

I was excited for these things, prior to beating the final boss and seeing the final cutscene. After that, I just felt hollow. I haven't picked up the game since and I know I won't for a while because I'll get angry and upset again, because What's The Point, Really? I'll elaborate on this more in my last point. But basically, for a minute there, when I beat the game, I wished I could rewind time and never finish it. I wished I could wipe my memory of the ending and stay in side content limbo forever. No ending that makes me feel like that is a good one.

Considering the endings the XBC1 and XBC2 casts got, this one really feels like a slap in the face.

Shulk and his friends get to live amongst a new, unified world and work together towards the future. It ends open ended, but happily.

Rex and his friends get to live amongst a new, unified world and work together towards the future. It ends open ended, but happily.

Noah, Mio, Eunie, Taion, Lanz, and Sena do not get a happy ending. The people of Aionios do not get a happy ending. They are no longer frozen in a cycle, but they are torn apart, reset to zero, and don't even get to keep their memories. You can say it ended open ended if you want, but I can't see anything about this that is happy for them.

It, and I cannot express this enough, makes everything you do pointless. None of it mattered, it was all for nothing.

This is the big one. The one that really, above all else, makes me so upset.

The sidequests of rebuilding colonies, of learning to farm. Of liberating these colonies and getting the people of Agnus and Keves to work together and be friends. None of it matters, because none of it stays. What's the point in going back and finishing these sidequests and having the characters interact with each other when I know there's no point, because it's all going to get erased?

This is what I mean, about it betraying its own themes. This was it. Aionios was the world where life could have walked together hand in hand, as soon as they took that life back from Moebius. Aionios was real and lived in and loved and they made you love it too, only to take it all away and wind everything back to the start.

For a game about walking into the future, it sure couldn't let go of the past.

So that's it, basically. That's why I hate the ending. It's why XBC3 is, a little, ruined for me. I still love the cast and world and everything about the plot before that final reveal of the ending. But I can't help but feel bitter about it now. And it might take me a while to ever want to play it again.

If you or anyone else liked the ending, that's fine. But I can't. Not ever.

Thanks for the ask♡

[girldraki]

thinking about clef venting to gears again because can you imagine being gears . and you have been in a sea of uncertainty and confusion about all emotions in general for like a decade now, and you certainly tend to struggle to fully comprehend other people’s experiences, and your horrible little coworker is talking to you about its personal problems for reasons you still do not understand despite it doing this every few weeks and in the midst of describing its social choices which are bewildering to the point of frustration for you it diverts into a vivid description of something neither of you know is called depersonalization and for the first time in years someone is describing an emotional experience you completely, vividly empathize with. and then ten seconds later it pivots back to explaining its frankly absurd relationship with your mutual coworker which you don’t get in the fucking slightest. and you get zero answers or closure on how or why it feels exactly like you do in this one, confusing way

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IX

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 14.3k

Warnings: timeskip, mutual pining, author doesn’t know shit about science subject matter, explicit sexual content, ass play, snowballing, tooth rotting fluff A/N: This is it, y’all. This last part was so much fun to write, I can’t even put it into words. The feedback on this has been incredible, so a big thank you for that, and before anyone asks, I have a handful of spinoff oneshots planned for this series. Enjoy~

- NINE YEARS -

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting at three.”

 Mike glances up from his computer to find Henning leaning through his office doorway. It’s the first time Mike has looked away from the screen in at least an hour, and he blinks at his colleague several times in an attempt to get rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes.

 “Yeah, thanks,” he nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Definitely would’ve forgotten about that one.”

 Henning leaves with one rap of his knuckles against the doorframe, and Mike checks his phone to see how much time he has before he has to make his way to the conference room. It’s twenty after two, so he spends a little while longer reading over the journal that had been sent to him, only tearing himself away when his alarm goes off at 2:55. 

 He waves at a few people as he passes, shows the reserved smile he’d mastered upon entering the corporate world, then walks into the large meeting space and sets his little notepad on the mahogany table as he sits down in a plush rolling chair. 

 This meeting has been planned for a few weeks now, a team of researchers contracted by the government to study Lake Sina and everything wrong with it. Its water quality is at an all time low, and it's up to Mike and his team to figure out a way to change that so it can be purified enough to distribute to the public. There are a few large cities close to the lake, all of lower income and all struggling with their water systems. If Sina can get clean enough, it would solve a huge crisis that most people don't even know is taking place. 

 Tomas, Henning, Lynne, and Nanaba are already in the room, and after a few minutes, another group of four walks in, all unfamiliar except…

 Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he stares. He can only see a profile from where he’s sitting, but it’s one he recognizes. The time he spent admiring it, mentally sketching every feature—of course he’d recognize it. Recognize you.

 There is a pounding in his chest that Mike hasn’t felt in years, and his palms are suddenly damp. The collar of his shirt is too tight around his throat, and he reaches up to undo the top two buttons so that he can fucking breathe, but Jesus Christ, he can’t believe it. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he last saw you. 

 He wonders if you’ll have the same reaction when you finally notice him, if you’ll gawk at him or grin or run away. He wouldn’t blame you if you tucked tail. That last conversation—if it could even be called that—is not one of Mike’s fondest memories, and he can’t imagine the toll it took on you, what you must have felt going into your final year of undergrad. 

 “Is there a remote for the projector?” You call out to the table, and your voice sounds exactly the fucking same. It makes Mike want to slam his head into the wood, but before he can, you zero in on him. 

 He watches as your eyes grow, jaw setting, shoulders rising with a deep breath, and oh, you’re panicking. You’re panicking just like he is.

 “Um,” you cough and shake your head, then lean over to speak to one of your people before basically jogging from the room.

 No one seems to think anything of it. Mike has to white-knuckle the arms of his chair to keep himself from getting up and following. There's no reason he should follow, though. The two of you haven’t spoken in almost a decade. He has nothing to share with you, no reason to talk to you on a non-professional level. You don’t know each other anymore, and that’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

 A mousy looking man starts passing out little binders to everyone at the table, then introduces himself as Moblit and the other two in the room as Hange and Abel. 

 "And, the other girl you saw is—"

 "I'm back, I'm here," you announce as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and introducing yourself with a wave. "Did we get the projector working?" 

 "Yes," Abel answers, passing you the remote that Nanaba had procured a few minutes ago. 

 Hange plugs a cable into a laptop and the white screen is lit up with the image of the well known lake, once beautiful, deep blue but now a murky brown. 

 Mike has been preparing for this project for a few months now, going to an off-site lab to look over the samples being sent in or dropped off. He knew there was a research team studying the lake, but… what are the odds that you would be part of that team? 

 He supposes your jobs could overlap just like your classes used to, but you had told him you wanted to go into natural hazards ("You're a natural hazard," he had replied with a snort). Of course, that had been a long time ago, but how had that dream morphed into hydrology? 

 Before the presentation starts, Mike's boss, Keith Shadis slips through the door and takes his seat at the end of the table. You're quick to grab one of the binders and walk it over to him, flashing a smile and never letting your gaze flit to Mike. 

 Hange does most of the talking, going over all of your findings while all of you "braved the wilderness". Moblit and Abel insert a few things here and there, and then Hange clicks to a slide with a graph on it and hands the remote to you. 

 "If you turn to page seventeen in the binders, you can probably get a better look, but this shows how much the level of pollution in Lake Sina has risen in the last year alone. We took samples over…"

 You keep talking, but Mike loses his focus, watching your hands move as you speak, the way you're rocking back on your heels, and how you look anywhere but at him. 

 Even though there's a tiny tremble in your voice, you sound passionate, and why wouldn't you be? Mike is passionate too. About the same god damn thing. 

 With a PhD in environmental science, his specialty is pollutants. It's something he's been interested in since grad school because the earth is beautiful but in an awful state, and Mike wants to fucking change that. He's written journals and articles, worked with leading experts, and it's what he's decided to dedicate himself to, so why is it that this life that he's built for himself is suddenly intermingling with yours? How—

 A hand comes to rest on Mike's and he startles at the touch, jerking his head upward to see Lynne with raised eyebrows. 

 "Mike, I get why you're lost in the pollution sauce, but if you click that pen one more time, I will throw you out of this high-rise."

 He stares at her for a second before chuckling and tossing his pen onto his blank notebook. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. It's a little embarrassing, actually. How many people noticed? Did you? 

 The presentation ends with Hange telling everyone that they're happy to be teaming up with the Corporation to work toward a solution and a plan to clean Lake Sina and possibly implement it into larger bodies of water.

 The planning stage of the project will more than likely last for a few months, meaning you'll all be regulars in the office which Mike isn't especially thrilled about, even if you will be sequestered in a little annex and spending a lot of your time in the lab. Mike will still have to see you and work with your team, god, probably have to talk to you. 

 The floor opens up for any questions, but Shadis is the only one who speaks, wanting clarification on some statistic that Mike is going to have to read over later. Once the boss is happy, he stands, then walks behind Mike's chair to slap him on the back and say the last thing Mike wants to hear.

 "This is Dr. Mike Zacharias. All of you should get familiar with him since he'll be heading this project."

 Mike sits up a little straighter and forces a tight-lipped smile that all of his colleagues know is fake. 

 "Happy to be working with you." 

 It isn't a lie. He's been excited about this project for a long time now. He just wasn't expecting such a massive wrench to get thrown right into the middle of it. 

 The four of you start packing up your materials. When Henning tries to hand you his binder, you tell him, "No, those are for you to keep. Just to get a real grasp on what we found out there."

 Mike knows he's staring, swiveling back and forth in his chair, twirling the pen he's picked up again, and he wonders if it would just be easier to rip the bandaid off. Exchange hellos, go over the bare minimum—how long he's been with the company, how long you've been researching. Just enough to appear casual, like you didn't break Mike's fucking heart in college. 

 And, then he thinks about just avoiding you altogether. There's always the chance your issues could come up in conversation, and it's so far in the past now, there's nothing either of you can say to make the other feel better. This can't be about closure. It's just a job. That's all. 

 "Wow, everyone really… cleared outta here."

 Mike's vision unfogs, and he glances around to find that yes, you're the only two left in the conference room. Fantastic. 

 You're wrapping a cord around your elbow then shoving it in a laptop bag, and he can tell you're moving as fast as you can, ready to get the fuck out of there. 

 "Uh, yeah," Mike agrees, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his notebook to curl in his hands. "Everyone's just ready to get back to work, I guess."

 "Yeah. You can only hold someone's attention with a PowerPoint for so long."

 Mike's mouth is too dry, and it feels like he needs to cough, but he doesn't want to startle you, so he just quietly clears his throat in an entirely ineffective way and tells you, "Good PowerPoint, though."

 You snicker, not loud enough to hear your real laugh, and Mike doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not. 

 "Thanks. Mobs made it."

 Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you finally look up at Mike—really look at him for the first time—and he sees your expression go soft, mouth twitching like you’re caught between smiling and frowning, and Mike is taken back to the first night he met you when he wanted you to shotgun that disgusting beer. 

 You blink at him, open and close your mouth, and Mike is waiting with baited breath for you to say something else, but all you do is hold your hand out for him to take the projector remote from you. 

 "Here."

 He grabs it with two fingers, careful not to brush your hand. Fuck, he wishes his heart would stop beating so hard, it's incredibly uncomfortable. 

 "I feel like I should say something," you murmur, "But I have no idea what, so I'm just gonna tell you I look forward to working with you, Dr. Zacharias."

 He grins. Widely. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's been so damn long since anyone has said his last name like that. 

 "Do you, though?" He asks. 

 "Do I what?"

 "Look forward to working here."

 "Oh, uh…" You bite your lip, start rocking on your feet again, then shrug. "I guess? I mean… Big project."

 "Very big."

 "It's important to me. I can't say that I was expecting—"

 "Me?" Mike offers with a tilt of his head. 

 He's standing too close. It feels like he is, anyway, so he moves back to lean against the conference table. 

 "Yeah, pretty much," you laugh. "It's been a while."

 Mike wonders if you remember that night as well as he does. No matter how much he's tried to forget it, that image of you with fat years rolling down your face just will not leave him. Do you remember how it felt? Can you remember everything he said to you? 

 Before Mike can respond, you wave a hand. "Anyway, I need to go help set up our little area, so…"

 "Yeah, for sure. I'll be around."

 After powering through the last hour of his day, Mike bolts from the building. He needs to get home. He needs to get a drink in his hand. He needs to unwind and not think of you. 

 He needs to fucking call Erwin. 

 "Hey, bro, what's up?" 

 "Dude," is all Mike says at first. 

 "What?" 

 "You will never fucking guess who's on the team we’re working with on the Sina water project."

 Erwin hums in a sing-song sort of way, then chuckles. "Funny, I got a similar call about an hour ago."

 "You guys still talk?" Mike asks a little too loudly. 

 "Yeah, man. Not every day or anything, but—"

 Mike rolls his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He isn't mad, and Erwin knows this. He's just a little surprised. His friend hasn’t as much as uttered your name in the last ten years. 

 "Yeah, whatever. How'd it go from your perspective?" 

 "It—Wait, what did she say?" 

 "Oh, no no no," Erwin laughs. Mike here's a distant, "Hold that, please!" and figures he's making his way to the elevator to leave work as well. "I am not getting caught up in your bullshit again."

 Pouting, Mike finally turns on his car and pulls out of the parking lot. "Fine. It went… Well? I think? I mean, super awkward, but that isn't surprising."

 "No name-calling or confessions of undying love?" 

 "No, I'm not twenty-two anymore."

 "Could have fooled me," Erwin snorts. 

 "Fuck off. It was a good presentation, but she was nervous, and I couldn't tell if it was from having to speak in front of people or if it was 'cause I was there, and then we talked afterward—nothing important or anything, just, like, an acknowledgement. You know, you're here, I'm here, we have to find a way to co-exist, except neither of us actually said that," Mike has to take a deep breath. He's rambling, he knows, and Erwin is just listening, probably storing it all away to make fun of him about it later. "It was okay. It could've been worse."

 "Could have been better too."

 "What? How—"

 "Could have bent her over the desk and—"

 "Dude!"

 Erwin breaks into that deep laugh Mike is so used to, tells him, "I'm just saying! I know she's still cute. We have each other on Facebook."

 He's right. Too right. You are absolutely still cute, all dressed up in business casual attire, so different from the leggings and hoodies you used to wear. Your face has matured slightly—naturally—and your hair is different but still suits you. Mike has no idea how he's supposed to work with you for the next few months. 

 "I can't deal with you," Mike grumbles. "Why did I even call you?" 

 "Probably because I'm the only one who has an inkling about what you're going through right now," Erwin replies. "Aside from her anyway."

 "Yeah, yeah."

 They chat for a little while longer until Erwin gets to the bar he's apparently meeting some coworkers at, and Mike spends the rest of his drive listening to music too loud as he tries and fails to clear his mind of you. 

 *

 You're pacing. You have been for the last hour. The food you made for yourself went cold some time ago, but you're too busy whining into your phone to notice. 

 "Just—like—what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to work with him like this? He's overseeing the whole fucking project! I can't just avoid him!" 

 "Okay, first thing's first," Hitch stops you. "I need you to take a deep breath for me."

 "Hitch—"

 "Breathe!"

 You inhale through your nose then blow out through your mouth, but that's obviously not good enough for Hitch because she demands, "And, again."

 "What are you, my therapist?" 

 "I mean, I usually act like one, so… anyway, while you're calming the fuck down, I'm gonna call for backup. Hold please."

 Dropping yourself onto the hotel couch, you try to relax even though you know it'll be impossible because—

 "You're working with Mike?" Rhi's shrill voice meets your ear, and you have to pull the phone away. 

 "Rhi, you're supposed to help me calm her down, not add to her panic," Hitch reminds her. 

 "Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Rhi tells her, and you laugh to yourself. 

 "Agreed."

 "Okay, so tell me what happened. Oh my god, did you cry? Did he cry? What'd Erwin say when you told him? You told him, right?" 

 You've gotten used to Rhi's rapid fire inquiries a long time ago, so you have no problem answering, "We walked in for the big Sina presentation today, and he was just there, and I was freaking out, so Hange had to do most of the work but still made me go over my findings 'cause I understand them better than they do, but anyway. I don't think he was paying attention at fucking all which is cool 'cause I wouldn't have been either, and then we talked for a second afterward, but there were no tears. There was almost vomit 'cause I felt like I needed to throw up, but I kept it together. I think."

 "Okay, and Erwin? What'd he say?" 

 You snicker to yourself. "He made fun of me for a little while and then he told me to talk to Mike once I calmed down just to catch up and then to—this is verbatim, by the way—to possibly have dirty sex in Mike's office."

 Both of your friends howl, Hitch being the first to gather herself enough to giggle, "He fucking would say that, oh my god, I hate him."

 "Same," Rhi drawls. "Okay, but is there the possibility of dirty office sex?"

 "Wha—That's what you're taking away from all that?" You splutter. 

 "Uh, yeah."

 "I'm kinda curious too," Hitch pipes up. 

 You wave your free hand around in confusion and tell them, "I—we—no! We don't even know each other anymore. We said, like, four words to each other today, and it was fucking weird, so no. Pervs."

 "Do you want to, though? Has he aged well?" Hitch asks in a low, sultry voice. 

 You click your tongue and pause, not wanting the first thought that pops into your head to be what comes out of your mouth because yes, holy shit, yes, Mike looks so fucking good. It was one of many reasons you were so tongue-tied in front of him. 

 He's still impossibly tall and broad, but in slacks and a button up. The beard he’s always had is short and rugged and a tad darker than the hair on top of his head that he's let grow out long enough to tie in a bun, and it fits him too well. You thought you were gonna start drooling on his fancy shoes. 

 "He's alright," you play. They see right through you, falling into another long fit of laughter until you admit, "Okay, okay, he's still stupid hot, alright?" 

 "God bless. I'm so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you."

 "Why would you—"

 "Just promise you'll invite us to the wedding."

 "I think you guys are getting a little ahead of yourselves."

 "Oh my god, we have to call Marie."

 "And, Maddie."

 You shake your head as the other two start going back and forth, talking about you like you're not even there, bringing up college memories, old parties you'd all gone to. 

 "Hey, remember when you hated me?" Rhi questions, and both of you snort. 

 "And, you hated me right back. Stole your man or whatever."

 Hitch mutters a quiet, "Ew, fuck that guy."

 And, Rhi picks up, "Yeah, fuck that all-American, record-breaking pitcher."

 The three of you talk well into the evening, eventually switching to Zoom so that you can all see each other and add Maddie and Marie into the call. You and Hitch break open bottles of wine, but Rhi and Maddie don't drink, "Solidarity with this pregnant bitch," Maddie says, and Marie lifts her glass of water to cheers via internet. 

 Sophomore and junior year of college, you never would have expected to get close to anyone other than Hitch, but through a few shared classes and petty curiosity, all of you ended up seeking solace in one another and came out on the other side as best friends. Hitch was even Maid of Honor in Marie and Nile's wedding. Against all odds, everything turned out pretty wholesome. 

 "I genuinely hope it works out," Hitch says now, words long, lazy, and starting to slur together "Like, even if it's just you and Mike making up and being, like, cool with each other again."

 "Hitch, you're drunk, please go to bed."

 "I am drunk. But, I still mean what I said. I miss when you guys were just best friends."

 "Why?" You question with a head shake. 

 Hitch sighs, "'Cause you were so happy."

 "No, I—"

 "I mean, you were still all… weird and guarded, but that dude made you laugh and smile so much."

 "I daresay I even saw you giddy on a couple of occasions," Marie hums. 

 "Whatever. I just want it to be… not awkward."

 "Then, talk."

 "Mm, pass."

 *

 A light knock on the wall of the impressively large cubicle gets your whole team's attention, all of you glancing up to find Mike standing in the little entryway, hands in his pockets.

 "Hey, just checkin' in. Have you all gotten settled?" 

 "Yes!" Hange is up on their feet. "Great accommodations, and that lab you guys use?" They moan, and you can tell Mike is trying not to laugh because his mouth is twisting to one side like it always does when he tries to appear unaffected by something. However, you know well that it is very hard to remain unaffected by Hange Zoe. 

 "Yeah, we haven't had a lab that shiny in a long time," Moblit chuckles. 

 "Don't you work in government buildings?" Mike frowns. 

 "You ever seen the inside of a post office?" You question, immediately regretting it when those light green eyes land on you. 

 "Uh, yeah?" 

 Smirking through the butterflies, you tell him, "Those are government buildings too."

 "Don't mind her. She's just being a smartass," Abel says.

 Mike is really fighting that smile now. Even pinched to one side, you can see the way his lips are trying to curve upward, and you have to bite yours and look at the floor before you start acting like a god damn school girl. 

 It's nearing the end of the first week at your new location. It hasn't been terrible, and some of the strangeness is beginning to wear off, but it's still jarring to see Mike walk around or hear his voice carrying through his office door. 

 Neither of you have gone out of your way to talk to one another. Anything project related, Hange handles for the most part, and if anything is delegated to you, you try to pass it off to Abel because you're just not ready to be alone in a room with Mike. Your brain and your heart can't take it yet. 

 You can't deny that you're curious, though. You wonder what his life is like now, what his job is like outside of what you've seen (which, admittedly, is not much), what he does in his free time now, who he spends his time with. You couldn't help but notice (you made a point of looking) that there isn't any type of ring on his finger which is pretty fucking surprising since, well, Mike has always been a catch. How has someone not come around and swiped him off the market? Or, does he just not wear a wedding band at work? Or, does he just have a girlfriend and is waiting to take the next step? So many questions you have no business asking.

 Mike hums, rubs at something probably nonexistent on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, and mumbles a little, "Nothin’ I haven't dealt with before," that makes everyone look at him curiously. "With co-workers, you know. Lotta sass in the office."

 You stifle a laugh and stand up. There are a lot of sassy things you could say, but you figure none of them are actually appropriate, especially since Mike is technically your boss now—why is that so hot?—so you just slip out of the cubicle, doing your best to not brush up against Mike. He apparently doesn't care, though, because while he moves to the side, he does the thing that all men do, placing a hand on the small of your back as if to guide you past him, and it makes you burn. 

 "'scuse me," you squeak, relieved to be able to run to the restroom where you can sit in a stall and scream to Hitch through texts. 

 You are dying—mostly because you don't know what you want. Do you want to be friends? Do you want to seduce him? Do you want another nine years away from him? You have no idea. 

 You were sad for a long time after that holiday break. You trudged through your spring courses, took more classes in the Summer, then started all over. Hitch had to physically drag you out of your tiny apartment a few times but never to any parties, thank god. Just to lunch or the library, and eventually, Rhi, Marie, and Maddie came into the picture. Further into the picture, anyway. 

 While they got you laughing again, though, that ache didn't ever fade. Mike's words replayed in your head in a constant loop, day and night for months. I can’t do this anymore. Start fresh. Shouldn’t be hard for you. You were mad at yourself for a long time, for ruining everything and hurting him. If you could have gone back to the start of it all and done things differently, you would have, but you just had to sit with all your mistakes instead. 

 Then, your anger shifted toward him. Because you weren't the only one who messed up. You may have been the first one to, but he did some shitty things too. He's the one who didn't care even after finding out it was Zeke who blocked his number. He's the one who refused to believe that you and Erwin weren't actually a couple. He's the one who brought Rhi to the ranch house with the specific intention of hurting your feelings (and to wet his dick). 

 And, he's the one who didn't want to work things out. 

 You understand his frustration. You broke his heart, after all. But then, he turned around and broke yours too. 

 It was nine years ago, and you've moved on. You've dated people since then. You've fallen in and out of love. Mike wasn't even on your radar until Monday, but now… Now, there's no forgetting him. Old wounds get jabbed every time he peeks around the corner, any time you hear him laugh or see him smile, and when he actually looks at you, fuck, it's like someone is ripping stitches out of your skin.

 It is not a productive work environment. 

 Your team hasn't noticed much other than Moblit asking what has you so tense these days, but no one has made any connections, and you'd like to keep it that way. Hange would have a fucking field day if they found out. 

 There are many meetings to toss around ideas, plans and blueprints that get scrapped. You stumble through presentations, trying not to look directly at anyone as your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. 

 "You've never been nervous about stuff like this," Abel tells you in the conference room one day as everyone else files out. "What's up with you?" 

 "Nothing," you shake your head. "Don't worry about it."

 "Nothing my ass," he grumbles, walking out without you. 

 "You really should try to relax," Mike tells you from where he's still sitting at the table. "No idea why you're so nervous."

 Everyone else is gone which means you're free to squint at him, scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you see that he's smirking at you, the words dry up. 

 "Don't play dumb, Zacharias."

 "I'm not playing anything," he tells you. "But, I do need to know how long we're gonna keep up this I don't know you-you don't know me thing."

 "You literally just said—..." Taking a deep breath, you look over your shoulder to, one, form a coherent sentence in your brain, and two, make sure no one is close enough to hear it when you say, "What would you prefer we do? Not like we can just pick up where we left off. Unless, you know, you wanna go back to being incredibly fucking pissed at me for months on end."

 "Man, you really are tense about this," Mike chuckles, and you're torn between slapping him and jumping his bones, so you do neither. Fuck, why'd he have to wear the purple tie today? It looks so good with his complexion and complements his eyes. A few strands of hair have come loose from the bun at the back of his head, and he shakes them out of his face like he used to shake his shaggy bangs, and all you can do is stare and squirm and tell him, "I have to go."

 "Go where?" He asks, standing from his chair. It feels like he towers over you even from across the table. 

 You hold your hands out and gesticulate a little frantically, "I don't know—work? Maybe?"

 He's extremely amused, even laughs as you make your way out the door, then calls, "Whenever you're ready to talk, just let me know! You know where my office is."

 "I don't wanna talk!"

 You really don't. But, you also really do. 

 *

 Mike starts having fun with his new department (you specifically) around the third week. 

 He's never seen you like this before, having to mentally prepare yourself before you walk into any room, like you have to be ready for him. You nibble on your lip and rock on your heels. Your hands shake in meetings when you have to point to pictures or graphs. 

 It’s just so unlike you. He got so used to the surly, uncaring girl in college, never happy to see Mike until you gave him a fair chance (and decided you enjoyed his cock). He expects everything to come out of your mouth to be sarcastic or suggestive, and when it's not, it takes him off guard.  

 Mike is nervous around you too. He can easily admit that. But, his neverending panic really just manifests in the form of nausea and heart palpitations which he thinks is better than trembling and stuttering, but it's still mildly distracting. 

 Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of that old side of you, though, a mumbled smartass remark or an unimpressed expression, and he has to make a conscious effort to not grin like an idiot because he's still trying to decipher his actual feelings. 

 Is he supposed to act like nothing ever happened, or should he hold a grudge? What seems more natural? What feels more natural? 

 Mike knows the answer to that last question, but he hasn't fully accepted it. 

 "It's kinda cute, actually. Like, I walk into the room and she gets this little doe-eyed expression. Looks like she's about to run away."

 "You're kind of a sadist, you know that?" Erwin says. 

 "I mean, is it so wrong to get a little satisfaction outta this?" 

 "I think so, yeah. You're driving her crazy, dude."

 Mike smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. "Man, how would you know—"

 "'Cause she told me!" Erwin basically shouts like it's obvious. "The words came out of her mouth. Mike is driving me crazy. Just like that."

 Pouting, Mike takes another sip of his beer and lets his eyes travel to the bottom of the TV screen to check the score of the game he isn't watching. 

 "Well, it's not like I can really do anything about it. She'll only be here for a few months."

 "Do you happen to know how long it takes for a stomach ulcer to form?" Erwin asks. 

 Mike frowns. "Uh, no?" 

 "Well, neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it's not very long."

 Both of them laugh. Mike mutters something about Erwin being fucking stupid, and then Erwin sighs and speaks, "I am begging you, dude. Please just get a fucking drink with her or something."

 "We don't mix well with alcohol," Mike snarks. 

 "What's the worst that could happen—you end up in bed again?"

 "Well—"

 "Honestly, both of you could probably benefit from a good fuck, but what do I know? I'm just the guy both of you call for this shit."

 "Alright, I get it. I'll… see if she's up for something," Mike mumbles. 

 "I mean, I wouldn't open with sex, maybe start off with lunch or…"

 "I'm hanging up now."

 Mike doesn't actually know how to ask you, though. You're so fucking skittish around him, and you're obviously worried about people finding out you have a history, so he's gonna have to be strategic about it, maybe plant the seed a few days before or—

 "Hey, listen…" You appear in Mike's office doorway, long cardigan falling to your knees and swishing behind you even after you've stopped moving. "I know it's almost five, but I'm, like, right in the middle of mapping out a new plan, and I don't wanna lose steam, so is it cool if I stay late?" 

 "Yeah, I don't care," Mike answers, tacking on, "S'long as you're okay with being here late with me."

 "Oh, th-that's—" you splutter for a little while, and Mike raises his eyebrows. "That's n-not necessary. You don't have to, like, supervise me or anything."

 "I'm not supervising you," Mike snorts. "I'm trying to finish my piece for a journal."

 "Ah, right, that's… yes." You shoot off a half-hearted finger gun, and Mike wants to hop his desk to get to you. There you are. There are your dumb fucking mannerisms, please, just act like yourself, for the love of god. 

 "Okay, well if you need me, uh, I will probably be on the floor in the annex, so…"

 "We do have chairs, ya' know," Mike smirks. 

 "Yeah, but it's easier to just spread everything out so I can see it."

 "Want a corkboard? You can make it look like you're doing a murder investigation."

 "Hmm, might make it look more official," you muse, making a face of contemplation. 

 Before you can actually say yes, Mike pipes up again. "I don't actually have a corkboard. It was a joke."

 "Yeah, I know," you snicker. "Wouldn't be big enough anyway."

 Too many responses flood Mike's brain at once, causing him to bite his tongue because every last one of them is gross, but you must be able to read it on his face because you point and tell him, "Stop."

 "I didn't say anything!" He laughs. 

 "You don't have to. I know."

 Mike rolls his eyes, "Okay," and looks back to his computer, hoping the screen is high enough to hide his grin as you turn and walk away. 

 The next hour is spent editing the same paragraph over and over with no real motivation because everyone has vacated the floor except for you and Mike, and this could be a good time to talk to you, but he also doesn't want to disrupt your work. Just because he can't focus doesn't mean you can't. You'd only get upset if he distracted you from your work anyway—it's happened before—redirecting your attention from a textbook or study guide to… other things. 

 He goes down a rabbit hole, reminiscing on those occasions, then tweaking them just a little to fit into the current setting, and it's the absolute last thing Mike should be thinking about, but it's Friday, and you're slightly more casual in your flowy cardigan and tight jeans, and all he wants is to get one teeny tiny look at your ass in them because he knows your it’s perfect. He's seen it in leggings and cheeky little boy shorts and lacy thongs, and there is absolutely no way he can go out to talk to you now. 

 Also, he really needs to write at least one paragraph before leaving tonight. It's all about water and waste and pollutants which is the shit Mike knows like the back of his hand. He'd just rather have said hands on something else. 

 "Yeah, this isn't gonna happen," he mutters to himself, taking his hair down to scratch at his scalp. He's better off just going home. 

 Mike packs a few things up before stepping out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Half the lights are off, but the portion over the annex is shining brightly. Mike stares in that direction as he debates telling you he's leaving or bolting without saying anything. 

 It's the thought of you walking out to your car alone that makes his mind up, and Mike saunters to the annex and finds you on hands knees surrounded by several sketches, crumpled notes, and the set of blueprints that Mike is pretty sure got thrown in the recycling on Tuesday. 

 "Where'd you even find those?" 

 You don't look up when you answer, "Recycling comes every Monday."

 "So, you went… dumpster diving?" 

 Lifting your head, you squint up at Mike, tracking him as he squats on the other side of your organized chaos. 

 "Is it dumpster diving if it's all paper?" 

 Mike shrugs. "Dunno. How's it comin'?"

 "I'm comi—It!" You correct a little too loudly. "It's coming! It's coming along just fine."

 "Yeah?" Mike chuckles. "Cute Freudian slip there."

 "It was not—" You grit your teeth, fingers curling on the papers they're resting on, then question, "Did you need something?"

 "Just came by to say I was leaving," Mike tells you. Something catches his eye, though, some of your notes scribbled just big enough for him to read a few of the words from where he is, and he grabs the sheet to look it over more carefully. 

 Irrigation plans, specialized pumps, introducing new life into the lake, specifically filter fish…

 "I was just vomiting ideas out on paper, it's nothing important."

 Mike hums and reads further. Some of it is familiar because Mike has considered some of these himself, but while your engineering thoughts are a little vague, the ideas that lean more toward the biological side of things are pretty interesting, even if they're just sloppy bullet points and arrows. 

 "You wanna vomit on a person instead?" He asks, chuckling at the look you give him. 

 "Ew."

 "Just spitball. Throw it at me."

 "Oh, I'm gonna throw somethin' at you all right."

 Mike slips his bag from his shoulder and sets it down before sitting on the ground, picking up the papers closest to him. 

 "Tell me about the xylem tissue method," he prompts. 

 You don't speak right away, just chew on your lip while staring at the sketches on the ground, but then you nod and sit back on your heels. 

 "So, we know that white pine trees are a natural means of filtering, but there aren't any around here. I know it's more of a long-term plan, but we can't just go with a temporary fix, so I was thinking—"

 Mike listens. To everything. Everything you can think of. He watches too. You rub your hands over your jeans and flick hair from your eyes. You change positions, sitting on one foot while resting your chin on your knee as you think out loud, then move to sit cross-legged only to get up to pace the length of the cubicle, barefoot since your heels were kicked off long ago. 

 He asks questions or makes suggestions here and there, and soon it isn't just you who's brainstorming.

 It's easy. It's what Mike knows, and it's obviously what you know too, and a couple of hours pass before either of you realize it. 

 "Shit, it's almost ten," you state, looking at your phone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here so late."

 "It's fine. Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't want to."

 Mike stretches as he stands, twisting to crack his back and rolling his neck. You gather up all the papers, straightening them into a neat pile then putting them in a drawer at the bottom of your desk. 

 You walk out together, still chatting in the elevator and out to the parking lot, and Mike feels good. He feels like… He feels like he did in college. 

 "Please tell me that is not your car," you say, eyeing the boxy, white Mercedes that is, in fact, Mike's. 

 "What of it?" 

 "These fucking Jeeps are so ugly, I cannot believe—"

 "Uh, it's not a Jeep. It's a g-wagon, thank you."

 You roll your eyes. "I liked your Wrangler better."

 "I bet you fuckin' did," he mumbles, too lost in the memory of you riding him in said Wrangler to think about how you might take the comment. 

 "It was easier on the eyes," you explain. 

 "It was a frat boy car."

 "You were a frat boy!" 

 "And, now I'm a professional."

 "Are you, though?" You tease, expression skeptical save for your tiny smirk. 

 "Most of the time."

 The only other vehicle in the lot is a Land Rover, considerably larger than the little hatchback you used to drive but very fitting for someone in your line of work. Mike thinks about mentioning that it's basically the same as his Mercedes, just not as expensive and with rounder edges, but he knows you'll just get indignant and defensive. 

 He walks you over to your car, and you don't question it, just open the passenger side and throw your bag inside. 

 This is your chance, Mike realizes. Just ask. Ask her to go somewhere else and talk about something other than work.

 "Hey, uh, do you wanna grab a drink or something?" He tries, heartbeat picking up once again. His eyes are a little too wide as you regard him carefully, studying him like one of your samples.

 Then, you shake your head. 

 "No, Mike. I don't wanna grab a drink." His stomach opens up, the heat that comes with embarrassment creeping up his neck. 

 "Oh, sorry, I just—"

 "But, there's a breakfast place close to the extended stay they put us up in. I've been wanting to check it out."

 And, like that, his hope is restored. Hope for what, Mike doesn't know, but it's certainly there, blooming in his chest like unkempt wildflowers. 

 "Yeah?" 

 You nod. "Yeah. I'm still not really a morning person, but d'you wanna meet there at, like, ten or so?" 

 "Tomorrow?" 

 "I mean, if that works for you."

 "Yeah!" Mike clears his throat, lowers his voice so that he sounds a little less excited. "I'm usually up and moving by eight."

 "God, why do you hate yourself?" You cringe. 

 "I've always been an early riser."

 "Not from what I remember."

 Mike leans against your rover, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe not when I was kept up into the early morning hours, but usually I was up before everyone else."

 You post up across from him, one hand on your hip, and Mike realizes this is gonna go on for some time. 

 "Kept up? Like you didn't wanna be?"

 He's fine with that. He'll stand out here talking with you until the sun comes up if you'll let him. And, maybe after that too. 

 *

 Breakfast is good. Breakfast is safe. Breakfast is the start of the day and free of alcohol. There is nothing suggestive about breakfast. 

 Except breakfast has become a habit. For the last three Saturdays you’ve sat at the little cafe next to your hotel talking with Mike for at least an hour. You’re kind of getting to know him again, but most of the conversation consists of stupid jokes or blatant deflections. 

 His parents are still doing well, both in their sixties now, but Scout, unfortunately passed away a few years ago. Hearing it makes your eyes burn, and watching Mike’s face fall actually makes you wipe at your own rapidly forming tears. 

 He still keeps in touch with several of his frat brothers—Erwin (obviously), Nile, Gelgar, and some of the younger kids, Jean, Marco, and Connie.

 “Yeah, I’m actually pretty close to Marie now,�� you tell him. “And, Maddie, and Rhi.”

 “Rhi?” He looks incredibly surprised.

 “Yeah,” you laugh. “Bonded over the woes of college boys.”

 “Didn’t see that coming.”

 “Neither did I, honestly.”

 Working with him is easier now. The ice has been broken. The boundaries have been set even if they are unspoken. You still do your best not to touch him at all, never stand too close or brush against him in any way, but you’ve loosened up a lot, and your team seems to appreciate it. Unfortunately, they also start to notice the way you light up a little too much whenever you’re around Mike, and naturally, Hange just had to comment on it a few days ago. 

 “You have a crush on the bossman or somethin’?”

 “What? No. We just work well together, I guess.”

 You do not tell Mike about this exchange, in fear of him prying. Well, do you have a crush on the bossman? You’re not ready for that, probably never will be. 

 There are a few breakthroughs in the Sina project. The research team gets extra funding to run more trials, and you start to stay late more often, sometimes in the tower with everyone else and sometimes in the lab. Things are progressing nicely. 

 Eventually, breakfast turns to lunch, lunch turns to dinner, and then you find yourself in Mike’s apartment, sitting at his kitchen table while he cooks.

 “So, we talk every once in a while now, but it’s usually really awkward. Like, I still don’t ever know what to say to him.”

 “Do you find it weird that he reached out in the first place?”

 “Kind of? When I was younger, I always hoped he would, but now that he has, I almost wish he hadn’t. Does that make sense?”

 Mike shrugs as he pours noodles into a strainer over the sink. “I mean, he’s your dad, so yeah, it makes sense. What he did was super shitty, but I figure it’s hard to forget the good times and just abandon all hope.”

 “Yeah. On the bright side, he sends my brother money for commissary, like, every week, so that’s nice.”

 It took a little while, but you’ve let yourself open up to Mike much easier this time around. Whether it’s because you already know you can trust him or because you’ve gotten the closure you needed for so long, you’re not sure. You just know it’s been easy. 

 Unfortunately, with vulnerability comes feelings, and you are having a lot of those. Too many. You’re glad that it’s not debilitating dread and nervousness now, but the overwhelming affection isn’t any less distracting.

 Watching Mike move around his kitchen, though—clad in a t-shirt, faded jeans, and the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, you are painfully reminded of why you got so attached all those years ago. 

 It isn’t fair. You really didn’t want to fall back into this hole. You knew it was a possibility as soon as you saw him at that first meeting, but you were trying to put it off until you had to leave. 

 Because that’s the plan. You come in. You complete the project, get them started on a long-term plan for the lake, then head back to your home facility and wait for another job to be assigned. You can’t just stay here, even if the idea gets a little more tempting every day. 

 You’re just friends, though, just spending time together because it’s familiar. It’s nice being back on the same page, just letting the past stay there.

 “So, it’s been about two months,” Mike starts, and something about his tone makes your stomach drop. “I feel like that’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before finally addressing the elephant in the room.”

 So much for letting the past stay there. 

 Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. “Do we really have to?” Of course he would want to talk about it now that you’re comfortable.

 “I really think we do.”

 “Mike, that was so long ago. I was a dumb fucking kid. What do you need to know other than that?”

 He braces himself on his counter, face serious. “Nothin’ really. I just want you to know that I was a dumb kid too.”

 “Yeah, and we’ve grown since then and gotten over it, right?”

 He lets out a long sigh. “I had gotten over it, but working with you every day has kinda... brought some things back to the surface.”

 Staring at him, you swallow and try to stay calm. You know where he’s coming from, and it’s a little comforting to know that he’s been experiencing at least some of the emotions that you have been, but you don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing. 

 “I get it. I’ve been struggling too, but there’s nothing we can really do about it.”

 You’ve thought about just taking the plunge and sleeping with him again. It would be nice��really fucking nice—but it would only make things worse. 

 “I guess. It’s been cool to hang out again, but…” Mike chews on his lip for a moment before finishing, “We’ve never been good at just hanging out.” 

 The reminder makes your skin prickle with heat, and you shift in your chair, reeling in your thoughts before they run wild. 

 “Yeah. If it would be easier to just not hang out, I’d understand.”

 He turns back to the stove to stir something and turn on the vent then twists back around. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

 “Then, what are you saying?”

 Mike makes a little disgruntled noise, hanging his head like he’s getting frustrated. “I’m saying some days are hard. I tried to keep some distance, but that lasted for about a week, and now you’re here, and even though you’ve changed some, you’re still you, and I’m still me, and… Some days are just hard.”

 Some minutes are hard, you think to yourself. You can be going about your day like someone who isn’t completely fucking smitten, and then you see Mike, and he nods or grins and suddenly all you want is to be alone with him and trace over his lips with yours, feel his hands on you, run your fingers through his long hair. 

 “If I could take those feelings away from you, I would,” you tell him, and it’s apparently the wrong thing to say because he frowns.

 “Do you not feel the same way then?”

 Your reply is almost instantaneous. “Christ, Mike, of course I feel the same! I was in love with you! I didn’t know how to show it back then, but that’s what it was, so yeah, I feel it too, but there’s no point in—in analyzing it or turning it into something—”

 “You were in love?”

 “Dude. Yes. It took me a while to realize it—like, way too long—but yeah. Definitely love. Junior and senior year wouldn’t have sucked so much if it was just lust or infatuation or something.”

 “Sorry.”

 “Don’t be,” you wave him off. “I fucked up. You had every right to be pissed.”

 “I could’ve handled it better,” he mutters.

 You shake your head. “Dumb kids, remember?”

 Mike looks genuinely upset, and you don’t know what to say anymore, so you get up from the kitchen table and walk over to him. You have to physically urge him to turn and face you, but once he does, you wrap your arms around his torso and sigh. He immediately locks his wrists behind your back, resting his chin on your head, and it feels familiar and right and a little bit like home. You can smell the fabric softener that clings to his shirt and the fresh scent of his deodorant, different from what he used to wear, but that doesn’t make it bad.

 “Can we wait for a while longer before we decide to act like dumb kids again?” You ask.

 Mike chuckles above you. “You say that like you’re positive we will.”

 You’re just being realistic, and you tell him as much. The chances of you leaving the city without having sex at least once are slim to none. You figure the two of you will break and indulge in one of those ‘just for old time’s sake’ fucks, but if Mike keeps talking to you like this, admitting feelings and what not, you’re gonna lose it much faster than you’d originally planned. 

 “Yeah.” You feel him nod. “Yeah, we can wait.”

 When he kisses the top of your head, you almost give up then and there. 

 *

 This fucking sucks. Everything sucks. Mike was never one of those people who looked back on college as his glory days, never really had the desire to go back to it, but now he feels like he’s reliving them because he’s back to being twenty-one and obsessed with a girl—being obsessed with you. 

 It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know that you felt it too, but you admitted it, so now the only thing that’s stopping the two of you from exploring that avenue is, what, fear? Again?

 He gets it. He does. You don’t want to fall into something serious only to leave, but it’s possible to navigate relationships like that. Long distance-works. There’s technology for that like phones and video chats and sex toys. Then, there’s always the option of just relocating. It would be drastic, but Mike isn’t against the idea. Arrangements would have to be made, but he could swing it. It’s a little crazy so early on, but...

 He’s not gonna push it, not in a blatant way, but he’s gonna try his damndest to make it harder for you to go. He grows bold enough to start touching you more. A hand on the small of your back as you leave a room together, an arm around your shoulders when you watch TV over dinner, tucking hair behind your ear (“God, that used to be Erwin’s, like, go-to move.”). It’s fucked up because he knows your colleagues are asking about it, that he’s subjecting you to their interrogations, but he can’t help himself. He can’t stop.

 It definitely has an effect on you. You get flustered every time, can’t look at Mike for a while, and he hopes it’s because you’re thinking about other ways he could touch you—has touched you—f you’d just give him the chance.

 He thinks he has the patience to keep it up, wind you up more and more every day until you spin out of control and into his bed. You’re still spending time with him outside of work, still sharing pieces of yourself, and you’re not stopping him from putting his hands on you. so it’s only a matter of time.

 It comes to a head in his apartment after dinner. It’s so simple, something Mike didn’t even do on purpose, but as you’re washing your hands, he comes up behind you and reaches past you for a paper towel. He puts a hand on your hip without thinking, and his chest presses against your back, and then you’re exhaling in one quick huff and squirming to turn around.

 “Okay.”

 “Okay, what?” Mike asks, confused as he takes a step back. 

 “Okay, I’m ready to act like a dumb kid.”

 You don’t even dry your hands, just curl your fingers into his shirt and gaze up at him with dilated pupils, and Mike is elated.

 “Oh, thank god, fuck, thank god.”

 He leans down, and you stand on your tiptoes, and when you meet in the middle and he feels your lips on his for the first time in almost a decade, he groans. 

 You pull him closer, tilt your head further back to give him better access, and Mike cradles it in his hands. He tries not to breathe too heavily, pant like a fucking dog, but he’s been waiting for this since he saw you again. Maybe before that. He thinks on some level he’s been waiting for this since he left you alone in the ranch house, a little voice nagging at him to go back, to fix things, and he just never did. 

 “This is stupid, this is so stupid,” you murmur against him. “Only gonna make things harder.”

 “Just stop thinking about it,” Mike replies, nipping at your bottom lip. He doesn’t want you to think about it because he doesn’t want to think about it otherwise he’ll blurt out everything he’s been stewing on for the last couple weeks, the possibility of a real relationship, of you staying or him going, and that's too much. 

 You both shed clothes on your way to the bedroom, a trail of shirts and pants until you’re naked and laid out for him, and Mike swears he just might cry because you’re so beautiful, just as he remembered with a little more meat on your hips and thighs, a new scar on your calf that he asks about before brushing his lips over it. That leg is already resting on his shoulder, and once he gets situated on his stomach, he throws the other one over himself.

 His mouth starts to water as he gazes at your pussy, so fucking pretty, hole fluttering when he spreads you open. You can’t answer his question about the injury as he lowers his face, pressing the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin then dipping it inside of you. 

 “Oh, fuck.”

 You taste and smell and feel perfect, and the only thought in his mind is to devour you. He won’t stop until you’re crying, drool leaking from your mouth and your cunt. And, he knows exactly how to get you to that point. 

 Mike flicks over your clit until it grows firm against his tongue then sucks it into his mouth. The noise you make goes straight to his cock, and he starts to rut into the mattress to get some kind of friction. He can already feel precum dripping from his tip, knows you won’t be the only one getting messy tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s never cared. 

 Mike only pulls away when your thighs start to tremble around his head, and it’s only to mark them with bruises. It reminds him of the last time, when you’d let him fuck you in a fit of desperation. It had been his undoing. He thought of that night for years, and now that he’s able to do it all again, he can’t help but confess, “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy,” just before he spits on it. 

 Your chest is rising with every little whimper you release as your nails dig into your palms. He’s never been happier to have long arms, able to reach up and massage your tits, stretching his fingers out to span across your chest, thumb on one nipple, pinky on the other, and as he teases both of them, he moans at the fresh slick that coats his tongue. 

 “A finger,” you pant, “Give me a finger, fuck, at least one, please please please—”

 You’ve always been so cute when you babble. Mike can never say no when you talk to him like that, but after assessing and deeming you fit, he slides two fingers into you at once, still sucking your clit.

 You swear loudly, almost in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from moving your hips, fucking yourself on every digit as your jaw drops open. 

 Mike wants to see your face—has to see it, so he licks up your body, stopping to tongue over your nipples as he goes. He never falters in his thrusting, still knows the exact angle he has to crook his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your back arches, and you plant your feet flat on the mattress to give yourself more leverage, more control. Mike smirks down at you, enjoying your euphoric expression as he grinds his palm against the bundle of nerves that is the key to making you fall apart. 

 “Oh my god—oh, god—fuck, Miche.”

 His breath catches in his throat. God, he hasn’t heard that in too long. He never told you, not that he ever had to, but hearing you call him that drove him crazy, made him fall further in love and lust at the same time, and hearing it now has the same effect.

 “Please,” you whine, then repeat it, spreading your legs to coax him deeper. “Fuck, I need you so bad, s-so bad.”

He’s in the perfect position to rub his cock over your stomach, smearing pre everywhere it touches. From the beginning, Mike has loved leaving traces of himself on you, always felt like he could almost smell it on your skin, like a sigil to ward off others.

 He places a soft kiss at the corner of one closed eye, then on the other, and when you open them to look at him, he sees that they’re filled with tears. 

 It makes him pause, but you keep riding his fingers and beg, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, m’fine, just—”

 “Why're you crying then?" he grins, leaning down to lick your bottom lip. "Feel good?" 

 You nod, raising to your elbows to force your mouth against his, sliding your tongue inside then whining when Mike pulls away, but it's only to gather the spit in his mouth. When he kisses you again, he makes sure you take it all, pushing saliva past his teeth and onto your palette, and when you swallow, Mike makes a noise of satisfaction. 

 "That's my fuckin' girl."

 That wide, fuck-drunk smile he loves so much spreads across your face as you accept the praise you never would have when you were younger.

 Mike noses just under your ear then asks, "You ready for my cock?" 

 "Always,” you breathe. “Always ready for it."

 "Yeah?" You nod, face scrunching up, and Mike thinks there's a chance that you're—"Gonna come for me first?" 

 Your muscles are starting to tense, hips stuttering, and he can actually feel your pussy spasming around his fingers. 

 "Come on, baby, you can do it. Just—'

 Your eyes roll back as your body pulses. Mike's hand is coated with slick that he can't wait to lick off, and he fucks you with his fingers until you go limp. 

 He cleans his hand then slithers back between your legs to catch everything that's leaking from you. You release a pitiful moan when he traces a circle around your entrance then squeal when he rubs his beard over it. 

 "Jesus fuck!"

 "Sensitive?" He teases before crawling back up to kiss you. 

 Holding himself up with one arm, Mike takes hold of his cock, painfully hard at this point, and parts your wet folds with his tip. He slides it up and down, teasing both you and himself and gasping every time it just barely dips inside of you. 

 "Miche, please."

 "You sound good when you beg," he tells you. You've been doing an awful lot of that tonight. 

 "Good enough to fuck me?" 

 "Mm, maybe," he plays, but he's cut off when you lift yourself just enough to take his cockhead inside of you, squeezing it so that he swears. 

 It completely dismantles any self-control Mike thought he had, and he gives you everything he has in a single thrust that makes you scream his name. 

 "You asked for it," he tells you, starting to pull out. 

 You grip his biceps, shaking your head. "J-just stay still for a—oh god, oh god…"

 Mike doesn't move, lets you adjust while he enjoys the way your cunt clenches around his cock. You're panting, eyebrows knit together, and apologize, "Sorry, give me… a minute. Been a while since I've taken anything this s-size."

 It's juvenile, but Mike's chest still puffs a little when you tell him that, and that feeling only grows when you give him the go ahead to move and he pulls out to see that his cock is already covered in white cream.

 Breathing out a quiet, "Fuck," he slowly pushes back in, mesmerized by the way it creates a thick ring at the base. "So pretty," he mutters, rubbing a thumb over the skin that's stretched around him. "Such a pretty pussy."

 He lets a string of spit drip from his mouth and onto your clit then strokes the swollen bud in circles, the pad of his fingers brushing over the tiny hole that makes you twitch every time. 

 Mike falls into a very slow, deep rhythm, torturing you as he drags his cock over every inch of your satin walls. Tiny gasps are pushed from your throat with every thrust, growing louder when Mike sits back on his heels and pulls your hips up to meet his. It leaves you helpless, only able to claw at the blankets, but your efforts are half-hearted, the press of Mike's cockhead against your g-spot obviously making it hard to do just about anything. 

 "I—I—I—..."

 "You what, baby?" He coos while admiring how big his hands look where they wrap around your waist, holding you mostly still as he drives his cock in and out of you. 

 Your cunt is pulsing again, so tight around him as it drips with slick and cream. The sounds it's making, an obscene balance of suction and squelching, has Mike shaking over you because it's so lewd but so familiar, and god, he has missed this. 

 And, you're right. It's stupid because he's just putting himself in the same place he was in ten years ago, but now he's a grown fucking adult, able to handle himself better, communicate better, fuck you better. 

 Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when he picks up his pace, and he groans when he presses in just a little too far, cockhead nudging against the wall deep inside of you. Your eyelids flutter, toes curling where your feet dangle and shake on either side of Mike. 

 His hips start to snap against yours, his balls swinging every time, and Mike remembers how nice it felt when they'd slap against your clit, the way you'd sing for him, and well…

 "Turn over," he breathes, pulling out and helping as you get to your hands and knees. 

 He takes the time to appreciate the view, letting the weight of his cock settle on your back just to get a visual of how much you take of it, what it might look like deep in your ass and what it would be like to see your stomach bulge from it. 

 Another day.

 Not wasting any more time, Mike sheathes himself inside you once again, spreading your cheeks and spitting on your puckering hole so that he can press against it with a thumb. 

 Your pussy opens up for him, like your body is begging him for more, so Mike fucks you harder, faster, slipping the tip of his finger into your asshole so that you tense up and say his name drunkenly. 

 His heavy balls hit your clit over and over, making you squirm and swear, head hanging back in an invitation, so Mike uses his free hand to grab you by the hair, pulling and glancing at what he can see of your face to make sure he isn't hurting you too much. 

 That grin is back, crooked and shiny with drool you keep having to suck back from your teeth. Mike hasn't felt this good having sex in god knows how long (he knows exactly how long it's been), and he thinks out loud, "Always take my cock so well. Always been able to…"

 "Feels so good, Miche," you cry, "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."

 He takes you like this until you can't hold yourself up anymore, elbows buckling underneath you, and all he does then is fall onto his back and pull you with him, letting you ride him like this and dragging his nails down your spine. It curves under his touch, arching and bowing as you lean forward to plant your hands between his legs and bounce on him. 

 Mike has a perfect view from this angle, huffing at the way your puffy lips open for him, clinging to his cock and dripping gossamer strands. Pressure slowly starts to build in both his gut and his balls, a hot sensation that grows, making him feel full and swollen and fuck, he can't wait to fill you up, can't wait to see you sloppy with his cum again. 

 But, not yet. Not yet. 

 Pushing you until you move off of him, Mike grabs his pillows and shoves you down on them, kissing you again before burying his face between your legs. Your hands are immediately in his hair, and he smiles when you tug at it a little harshly, using the strands as a means to guide Mike right where you want him. Even though he's taking this little break to let himself calm down, he can't help but press his hips to the mattress. He's hot and throbbing and dripping pre, ready but not ready to unload everything inside of you. He doesn't want it to end too soon, wants to savor every second because you're here crying and pleading for him, pushing yourself against his face only to pull back when he sucks on your clit. 

 He's able to fit three fingers inside of you now, keeps licking and fucking you until you whisper a slew of curses and start to warn him, "You're gonna make me—" breaking into a high-pitched moan as you squirt into his mouth and all over his hand. 

 "Fuck yes, again, come on, baby, do that again."

 Mike coaxes another out of you, groaning at the feeling of you dripping down his face and chuckling at the way you shiver and sit up. Your eyes are barely open, head swaying back and forth, but you plant a hand on his chest with the confidence of someone who doesn't look like they're about to pass out, shoving him back until he lays down. 

Straddling him, you sink down on his cock and bite your lip as you rock back and forth for a few seconds. Mike can feel fluid dripping over his pelvis, murmurs, "So messy," while pulling you down for a lazy kiss. 

 He lets you ride him, lets you think you're in control for a while until your legs start to get tired, rhythm becoming slower, and then Mike takes over. He lifts and drops you to his content, hips meeting yours as he fucks up into you. Your own hands cup your tits, pinching your nipples and putting on a show as you bounce up and down. 

 "You're so good," you breathe. "So fucking good to me, god, Miche, right there."

 He's on the brink, so close to his climax, but he holds back, giving it to you just the way you want it until it starts to hurt, and then he grunts, "'m gonna come, baby, I have to. Fuck, please, please, let me—"

 "Yes, yes, wanna feel you…"

 Mike's head sinks further into the pillow as his hips move without any thought on his part. He spills inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt so that it starts to leak out around him, then shooting even more inside of you. 

 "Jesus fucking—"

 Your muscles clench, squeezing and milking him until Mike starts groaning and twitching from overstimulation. 

 He could die right here and now and be totally fine with it. He really could. But before he can let that happen... 

 Mike urges you back, letting you get situated on your pillows again as he gazes at your stretched pussy and everything dripping out of it. 

 As soon as you stop moving, Mike is working his tongue inside of you. He can taste both himself and you, feel it coat his tongue as he drinks in as much as he can before sliding up to your face and taking your chin so you'll open your mouth. 

 The first drop makes you open wider, sticking your tongue out so that Mike can fill your mouth with his cum and spit, and the fact that you let him is so incredibly arousing, he just might fuck you until he's coming dry. 

 The little pattern is repeated a few times, Mike licking your pussy then spitting everything into your mouth, but he leaves some for lubrication, shoving the last of his cum back inside you when he starts fucking you on his fingers. He keeps you pliant, sucking on your clit so that he can slowly ease his pinky into your ass, and it isn't long before you're letting out breathy little sounds and tensing underneath him. 

 He takes care of you through your orgasm, looking at your face from where he lays. You're so pretty when you come, mouth open, eyebrows high, the picture of ecstasy, and Mike wants to remember it forever. He wants to keep you like this forever. 

 You shudder when he pulls his fingers from you, whine when he slowly laves over your sensitive pussy with his tongue, but after several long licks, Mike crawls back up to lay next to you. 

 "God damn," you laugh. "I had almost forgotten how good you are."

 Mike smirks, kissing your temple and nipping the shell of your ear. "Almost?"

 You nod, a spent smile making your lips curl. "I don't think I could ever fully forget even if I wanted to."

 Humming, he traces fingers over your stomach, now sticky from the mess of precum he had basically slathered you with. 

 "Yeah, we were pretty good for each other when we weren't being stupid," he muses. 

 He should probably step away for a few minutes, hop in the shower and wait for the flood of chemicals in his brain to fall away. 

 "We were, weren't we?" 

 "Mhm."

 Mike dips to press his face into your neck. He just can't stop touching you, can't stop breathing you in. He needs to memorize everything about this—how soft you are underneath him, how you smell like sex and sweat and your perfume, how quiet your voice is when you speak to him. 

 He feels your body rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and he's about to ask if you want to rinse off, but you open your mouth first, thoughtful when you tell him, "I loved you so much, Miche."

 "I know," he replies. Even if he couldn't see it then, he can now. You may not have told him to his face, but if Mike had been just a little smarter back then, he would have realized you were telling him in different ways. "I loved you too."

 He feels you pet his hair, probably a tangled wreck from being pulled. "I, uh…" You swallow hard, and Mike rests his chin on the hand on your chest, your heart beating against his palm a little too fast. 

 "You wanna shower before you say whatever you're about to?" 

 He knows what you're about to tell him. He just wants to make sure you don't regret it when you come back to yourself. "Yeah, probably."

 Both of you leave the bed on unsteady legs, Mike leading you to the shower and setting it to your favored temperature. He stands under the spray with you, taking the brunt of the water while kissing you. You move slowly, tangling your tongue with his, mapping out his body with exploratory hands. 

Mike is the one to break away after several minutes, insisting on soaping you up and dragging his loofah over your skin. He even sinks to his knees, gentle as he cleans your thighs and between them, careful not to get suds anywhere they're not supposed to be. When he’s finished, Mike presses a kiss to your pelvic bone before standing again, grinning when you pull him back to your face. 

 He doesn't have the same, short refractory period he used to otherwise he'd fuck you against the tiled wall, but he's content to stay like this, sucking on your lip and pressing against you. 

 Even after you've been given the chance to get your thoughts in order, you still blink up at Mike, water droplets dotting and falling from your eyelashes as you tell him, "I love you. I still love you. I don't think I can stop."

 He holds your head in his hands, brushes his nose against yours as his chest swells with more emotion than he thinks he can actually handle, and his own confession is easy: "I love you, too." Another soft peck to your lips before he adds, "I think you already knew that, though."

 "Wasn't positive."

 Mike knows there are logistics to consider, but the two of you can work on that later. For now he just wants to finish rinsing off and crawl into bed with you. 

 He should probably change the sheets, though, and find you pajamas, so Mike does exactly that as you traipse back out to the kitchen for some water, wearing absolutely nothing and making him bite his lip. 

 He puts new bedding on the mattress, then digs through his dresser for a t-shirt and boxers. Something catches his eye, printed material that almost makes him laugh out loud. He doesn't know why he still has the shorts, especially since he ruined the shirt a long, long time ago, but he's so glad he does. 

 Pink and covered in palm trees, he can't even fit into them any more, but it's fine. He thinks he knows how he can repurpose them. 

 But first, he needs to call his mom. 

 *

 It's an easy fix, really. Before the Sina project even comes close to wrapping up, Mike finds a place for you in his department, something you hadn't thought possible, but apparently he's kind of a big deal in the field. 

 When he makes you the job offer in the conference room, he's able to keep it professional for a whole three minutes before you agree to the terms, and then he's out of his chair and picking you up to swing around. Just like that, the whole fucking office knows about the two of you. 

 "Ha! You owe me fifty bucks, Moblit!" Hange shouts for everyone to hear, and you shake your head as the quiet man asks if he can Venmo them. 

 "I fucking knew it! I knew there was something going on! God, that's so satisfying. I'm not even mad that you're leaving us."

 "It's been going on for a long time now," you snort. 

 Hange leans against the wall and wriggles their eyebrows, "Yeah, what, like, the whole three months we’ve been here?" 

 "Try ten years," Mike mutters, and the eyes behind Hange's glasses nearly roll out of their head. 

 You and Mike have to sign a few things, contracts and couples disclosures and what not, but you don't mind. 

 The first thing you do is ask for a few days off in order to move, and Mike naturally does the same to help. You live just over three hours away, but are able to recruit some help in the form of your old friends. 

 You let out a shrill scream when you see Erwin step out of his car outside of your apartment complex, all but throw yourself into his arms so that he laughs and squeezes you tight against him. It's been a couple years since you've actually seen him, the distance between you just a little too far, but it's so nice to stare at his stupid face again. 

 Nile is also there with a very pregnant Marie on his arm, and Hitch and Rhi arrive as all the guys are carrying down the first load of packed boxes. 

 "Damn, it has been a long time since we've all been together," you say, looking around at everyone and grinning after you tape up another set of cardboard flaps. 

 "Yeah, kinda weird how we all just get along now," Hitch giggles. 

 "It's almost like we're adults or something," Rhi adds. 

 You pass her the box, but she just groans and passes it to Erwin. 

 Everyone takes turns making trips to Mike's apartment, and the moving effort takes three days in total. You really need to find a way to repay all of them, maybe suggest a nice dinner. 

 "God, why do you own so much shit, babe?" Mike asks after loading the last shelves of a bookcase into his car (that you still hate). 

 "Because everything has sentimental value. Don't judge me."

 "Oh, I'm judging. When'd you get so soft?"

 You roll your eyes and reach past him to close the trunk door. 

 The others are all standing in the parking lot with you, antsy and excited for the two of you, or so you assume. 

 "I really can't thank you guys enough. You've made this so much easier," you tell them. 

 Erwin grins widely and pulls you into a hug, and to your surprise, Hitch slides around you to hold you from behind. It makes you laugh and call them dumb, but when they step back, you're hit with the realization that they weren't just being goofy; they were strategizing, keeping you shielded from Mike who is now kneeling on the asphalt and chewing on his bottom lip. 

 Your eyes grow wide, and you step back only to run straight into Erwin's chest. He puts two, grounding hands on your shoulders, and you can almost feel his smile as Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. 

 A small pink box. 

 A small pink box with pieces of fucking palm trees wrapping around it. 

 "Did you get that fucking upholstered?" You shout, and Mike lets out a giddy laugh, his eyes so narrow from grinning that you can barely see the green. "I don't even wanna open it. I cannot believe—"

 "Good thing you don't have to open it then," he chuckles. “I do.”

 "You are fucking impossible, you know that?" 

 "Yeah," he agrees before prying the ridiculous box apart and revealing a ring that makes you tear up. 

 It isn't huge, but it's far from plain, sparkling stones wrapping around it with a larger, round cut in the middle. It's extremely pretty and very you, and oh, you wanna put it on, you wanna put it on right now. 

 "Don't look too impressed. Mom helped me pick it out, and it’s all ethically sourced, of course," Mike says, and you wipe your eyes while giggling. 

 "Oh my god, she's crying!" Rhi yells. 

 "Shut up, it's because of that atrocious box."

 Mike looks behind you at Erwin. "I knew she'd love it."

 "Yeah, good call, bro."

 "I hate both of you."

 "Still gonna marry me, though, right?" Mike is still grinning, but you can see the barest hint of worry in his eyes, and you can't blame him because this is big. This is commitment. Marriage. He wants you to marry him. 

 And, some will say it’s too quick, that you’ve only been actually dating for a couple of months, but it makes sense because if you’re being honest, you never really fell out of love with Mike. He’s always been nestled deep in your heart.

 "Against my better judgement," you smirk. 

 He stands up quick enough to make himself dizzy, has to brace a hand on his car as he kisses you. 

 "Finally!" Erwin shouts, clapping his hands and being joined by the others. 

 Mike slides the ring from the terrible box, pushes it onto your finger with shaky hands, and when you admire it in the sun, you look at him and nod. "Very nice, Zacharias. Even in the parking lot setting."

 "I just wanted everyone to be here! If we went somewhere fancy, you would've figured it out."

 That's true. Going to some nice restaurant or quaint little park would have definitely tipped you off. 

 "Also, you know once we're married, you will also be Zacharias."

 "Yeah," you nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess I will be. Hey," you look at him with raised eyebrows. "Wanna shotgun beers at the wedding?" 

 Mike laughs loudly. "That is how it all started, isn't it?" 

 "Yeah, this stupid frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt came up to me and demanded I shotgun a room temp beer."

 "Sounds like an asshole," Mike chuckles. 

 You shrug as he pulls you into his chest and sigh into his shirt, "He turned out alright, I guess."

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.4)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Four) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,944 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: If you don’t like the tags on this fic, just a warning to stop reading because it’s taking the turn that was mentioned all up in the tags

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

It had barely been a week and a half and Steve was already calling you. They’d sent you flowers twice and sent Tatiana a check to give to you. But apparently giving you the time you thought you needed was not on their docket.

You answered happily though, “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Far better than the last time you saw me. I can guarantee that. But I still don’t look my best.”

“That’s perfectly okay, Y/N. Understandable that you aren’t completely healed up yet,” Steve said. “But, we were hoping you would be up to a small trip.”

“O-oh,” you stammered. “I, uh, I mean should I? I don’t know if I should be getting rough.”

Steve laughed at that and assured you, “I can be gentle if that’s what you’re worried about. But, really. It’s actually important that you come with.”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating. “I actually haven’t left the brothel since… you know.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “Mhm, well, it’s secluded. It’s my beach house. Don’t gotta worry about anyone but us and some guards. And we can pick you up directly from your place.”

A beach house? God, that did sound nice. You cleared your throat, trying to joke, “Wives? I don’t need my nose broken again.”

“No. They are going on a small trip themselves separately. We are going on a crabbing trip as far as they know.”

“But what are you really doing then? And why is it important that I come?”

Teasingly, Steve told you, “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Me and surprises really aren’t—”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve cut in. “You need to get out of that place. Get some fresh air. There’s a jet tub and a hot tub. You can stay in it as long as you want.” He added and you could hear the smirk in his tone, “As long as you let us get the look we want, that is. Stipulation.”

“Pervert,” you joked, smiling despite yourself.

“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

Sighing, you weighed your thoughts. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked surprised. It was Tuesday.

“Yeah, we are ready to go and I’m assuming you don’t have any plans?”

“No.”

“Perfect. We will swing by to pick you up at 4.”

“In the afternoon I hope.”

Steve chuckled, “Yes, the afternoon, dove. So, be ready. You know how punctual Tony is.”

“Don’t want to start the trip off on a bad foot,” you agreed.

“Exactly.”

You blurted, “Hey… can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Carefully choosing your words, you asked, “Did you… were you able to find him?” Steve was silent on the other end of the line. You furrowed your brow and asked, “Steve? Are you still—"

“Yeah, I’m here. And yes,” Steve answered. “We sure did.”

“And…” you prodded, trailing off, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“We’ll come get you at 4pm tomorrow, dove. You should get your things packed,” he said, completely sidestepping your question. “I liked that blue one piece you bought when we were out that one time. The cut out one with great cleavage.”

“Okay, I’ll pack that one. How long are we staying?”

“A few days. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I gotta go though, dove.”

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

When you hung up, you stared down at your phone. Why hadn’t he answered your question? You turned around after a few moments, placing your phone down on your bed. You got onto the floor and reached to grab your travel suitcase out from underneath the bed.

<><><>

Coming down the stairs after you dropped your bag off in the master bedroom and taking a very long bath in the jet tub, you slowed your steps. You were taking in the view, looking out the windows that stretched at least ten feet at the first landing on the stairs. The water was lapping at the rocks outside, the sun just starting to set. It was calming.

“How was it?” Steve asked, coming into view.

“Amazing,” you told him, smiling. “You didn’t come up for your view though. How can I keep up my side of the bargain if you don’t meet me halfway?”

Steve smirked, “Cheeky. Still.”

You noticed he was still dressed nicely and you asked, “Do you want me to go change?” You had thrown on the suit he asked you to bring and a coverup over it.

“Absolutely not. You look fine.” Steve held his hand out for you and you took it. He was quiet, looking at you.

You got uncomfortable and asked, “What’s up?”

Steve looked over your shoulder and you followed his gaze seeing Tony walk in from outside. The two of them seemed to communicate without speaking and you repeated,

“What’s up?”

Steve’s attention was back on you and he asked, “So, you remember how you asked about Jared?”

“Um. Yes?”

“If you had the opportunity, would you want to see him before he died?” Your mouth fell open slightly, unable to find your voice, completely caught off guard. Steve stepped closer, and said, “I know how it feels to see someone who wronged you know they’re about to die.”

“He’s still alive?” you blurted.

“He’s here.”

You stammered, “E-excuse me? Here?” Your heart was beginning to pound.

“Don’t worry, he can’t get out,” Tony said quickly, holding up his hand to you. He saw you were threatening to unravel and he came closer. He explained gently, “And even if he could, he’s pretty dehydrated and he’s definitely starving, so he’s not going to be moving too fast anyway. Plus, you’ve got us here now and we won’t let anything happen to you?”

“What…” you said, trying to grasp what was going on.

Steve explained, “Found him a few days ago and kept him alive after we gave him a good beating. Wanted to give you the opportunity to watch it happen if you wanted to. You don’t have to. Just wanted you to have that chance.”

You were suspended in shock. You thought you were coming here to relax, get fucked a couple of times. And then just head back home. It dawned on you that second that this was the surprise that Steve must have been alluding to on the phone when you agreed to come here. Not the surprise you were expecting; not even in the realm of possibility.

Did you want that? Did you want to see him die? You swallowed sharply, flooded with the memories of all the times he had beat you, cheated on you. You hated to admit some part of you would like to actually watch him suffer. You could never do it yourself, not on your own. And now you had this golden opportunity to have it happen in a way that he would know it was because of you that it was happening.

“Y/N?”

You were taking a long time to answer.

“I…” you started to say, looking in between them. You exhaled slowly and admitted, “Yeah. Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” Tony asked. You nodded and he nodded in return. “Good. I think you should. Give you some closure.”

That seemed a little sadistic but you let them led you towards the door. They walked you out onto the dock that was lit by small lamps. The sunset was beautiful on the water, the waves glowing with the colors. It was a stark contrast to what you were walking out here to do, such a dark deed. There were a few men standing at the end of the dock and you made to stay closer to Tony, keeping an eye on them as you approached.

When you came to a stop, your eyes circled around the group. You immediately got worried, thinking the worst.

Nervously, you asked, “Where is he?”

Tony pointed down at the dock and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Guys gotta be freezing in this water.”

“O-oh.”

Tony walked over towards the side of the dock where you saw there was a ladder. He began climbing down it and Steve gave you a little nudge. You walked over to the edge hesitantly and looked over. There was another lower dock there, a speedboat next to it. That made sense, this dock was pretty high. They definitely were not going to kill you, you tried to reassure yourself.

You forced yourself to climb down after Tony, his hands coming up to steady you as you got within his reach. You settled down next to him as soon as you saw they were telling the truth.

Jared was tied up to one of the pillars holding up the dock, his body half submerged into the water. He looked absolutely awful, close to death. His face was swollen, bruised. They had not lied about the beating either.

He seemed to recognize you and his eyes narrowed. Something kicked up in him and he shouted against the gag, hate in his eyes. You could not tear your eyes away from him.

“I personally love the sight,” Tony said, standing close. He lit up his cigar and took a long drag, his eyes raking over Jared.

Steve had climbed down now and was standing close as well.

You were still in shock seeing Jared yell at you, struggle against the binding. Tony was right, the water must be freezing.

Something came over you.

“Fuck me,” you said, not taking your eyes off of him.

“Pardon?” Tony asked, choking on his smoke a bit.

“Fuck me,” you repeated. Tony was staring at you, his finger running across his lip. You shrugged and added, “I want another man fucking me where his stupid ass can see it. Right before he dies. I want that to be one of the last thing he remembers. He hated the thought of another man touching me.”

“Shit,” Steve breathed, laughing lightly.

Your adrenaline was rushing now. “That’s what I want. I don’t want to actually see him die. I don’t think I could handle that but… I want this.”

There were a few moments of silence and you finally tore your eyes away from Jared to look at the two of them standing behind you.

“I won’t say no to that,” Steve said finally, grinning devilishly. “I’ll do the honors.”

You stared into Jared’s eyes, knowing you would never have to look at him again after this. You would never have to worry about him ever again because of Steve and Tony.

<><><>

The lobster you were chewing was decadent, too good to exist. You were buzzed now, having to take a couple shots after Steve got done plowing you and then you walked away, without a care, knowing damn well that someone was going to be murdered behind you. The shots had hit quickly on your empty stomach and luckily dinner had been delivered shortly after you had taken the shots. The three of you were sitting at a table on their dock, the table lit by tall lamps.

“You said you were coming back from a job?” Steve asked, before taking a bite of his steak. You eyed him confused and he chewed, swallowing. “That night.”

Revisiting this again. You did not want to think about it anymore tonight but considering the favor they had done, you pushed your uncomfortableness aside and nodded. “Yeah. Some Wall Street guy. Definitely a frat boy who never had to work a real job in his life. He had every drug imaginable ready to just offer up. Obviously I did not partake.”

You picked up your champagne, taking a swig before taking another bite of your lobster.

“No more of that,” Tony said flatly.

Eyes narrowed, you asked, “Frat boys or Wall Street? Cause I really don’t always get to choose.” Another bite. It was so delicious. You had to ask what restaurant it was from.

“Nobody.”

You stopped chewing. Your eyes moved between the two of them, sitting there looking stoic. “What?”

They both exchanged a look and you felt your stomach starting to tighten. There was something wrong; something bad was about to happen.

Steve answered this time, “Nobody else. Nobody but us.”

You almost asked if they were joking but you remembered Tatiana’s words about owing them. And the looks on their faces told you they were in no way joking around. You placed your fork down, straightening up. They were watching you with an uneasy intensity, gauging your reaction.

Giving a light, nervous laugh, you told them, “Uh, I mean… I kind of have other regulars.”

“Why would you feel the need to continue with other regulars?”

“T-t-to keep my options open?”

“That’s… insulting,” Tony chuckled, his smile not reaching his eyes though, turning his head to stare off into the water.

You felt cold, a tightness in your stomach. Insulting him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“What is this? What are we talking about?”

Steve shrugged, “I’m not sure what’s not clear about this, Y/N. You will work for us and us only. You get an actual apartment. Move out of the brothel. So it’s not as suspicious that we are visiting you. Then we will be able to visit you whenever we want and we won’t have to worry about an incident like this happening again. Or worry about you leaving.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. They could not be serious about this. To just upend your life to just be at their beck and call. And to prevent you from leaving if you wanted to? This situation was spiraling way too quickly.

“I don’t want to live by myself,” you argued.

“It won’t be some run-down building, Y/N,” Tony sighed, annoyance lacing his tone as he looked back at you. “You’ll have a doorman. And security.”

“So, you want me to just… depend on the two of you for income and for my housing? Nothing else?” you asked them, flabbergasted.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“What rational person wouldn’t be worried about that? I haven’t had the greatest track record with partners as you have seen yourself.”

Steve cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. You closed your mouth, knowing immediately you had said something out of pocket. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating about me. About us. Have we not been good to you?”

“I-I.. that’s not what I meant—”

“You think I’m going to hit you?” Steve asked harshly.

“No—” you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked irritated all to hell.

Tony held up his hand and Steve closed his mouth, still glowering at you across the table. You averted your gaze to Tony as he spoke.

“You’ll be perfectly fine wherever we set you down.”

Your voice was small, “I can’t even choose?”

“I would like somewhere in our jurisdiction for one. And then the doorman stipulation.” He saw you had shook your head ever so slightly, a reaction more than anything. Tony leaned across the table, staring directly into your eyes. It took everything in you to not look away and to not show fear. You felt like you were probably failing miserably at that. “I don’t think you understand fully what’s going on here, sweetheart, and that concerns me. You won’t have to trick anymore. No more uncertainty of who is taking you home. No more late-night walks. A steady income, your own place. Protection too furthermore; you’ll have at least one guard at all times. Why would you not want that?”

Logically. You would want this. You should want this. You begged them to screw you over your abusive ex hours ago. Practically egged them on to commit murder with acting the way you had. Everything he was saying was positive. But it was ignoring the fact that it sounded like you were going to be owned, your movements dictated by the two of them.

You licked your lips and offered weakly, “It’s not smart of me.”

“Why?”

“My line of business isn’t exactly about exclusivity.”

“Well, I guess you’re leaving that line of business then,” Tony said coolly.

There was not a choice here. You were being told.

You needed to get away from the table, away from their heated stares. You were swimming in anxiety. Standing up from the table abruptly, the chair squeaking, you took off. You did not know where to, you had nowhere to go. You just knew you wanted – needed – to be by yourself, to gather your thoughts.

By the sound of the heavy footfalls following you down the boardwalk, it did not seem you were going to be granted that. You broke into a run, knowing it was futile. There was no way you could outrun a super soldier. Steve caught you without any trouble whatsoever and pushed you up against the wall of the beach house.

“I don’t want to!” you exclaimed.

“It’s either here, secluded, under guard or in your new apartment under guard.”

Tears watered up in your eyes and you choked out, “You can’t do this.”

“I can’t do this?” Steve said, a flash of cruelty in his eyes and an amused smirk on his lips. He leaned in closer and said more quietly, “Dove, we run this city and you are a part of this city. Our favorite part actually and we are securing our favorite part for ourselves.” He stepped closer, glaring down his nose at you. You felt smothered against the wall by his imposing presence. “And that’s whether our favorite part likes it or not. Because we already own it because she owes us.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness, @multifandom-superlover, @imsonick, @holl2712