#// I didn't see another bar listed in their area

[nixbannick]

who: closed | @josephconway when: friday night where: titan grill & restaurant

This was exactly the kind of place she would've come with Finn, Nixon thought for not the first time as she glanced around. Given his traveling schedule, their date nights weren't regular or even particularly frequent. But this restaurant was everything they collectively agreed on, so it would've been a hit. That was probably why, even though she came in every Friday evening religiously, it was to sit at the bar instead of anywhere else. She kept her head down, her eyes mostly in the one drink (sometimes two, tops) she ordered, and left without saying a word to much of anyone.

It was important to be out in the world and to remember the world existed, her therapist had claimed. This was her doing her best. It had changed a little over the last couple of weeks, though. Another bar-sitter, someone she didn't remember from growing up, someone who didn't remember her from high school. The conversation had actually been pretty interesting, too, if more superficial at first obviously. She wasn't quite optimistic enough to order a drink for him, but she had gently requested two other people fuck off and leave the seat next to her vacant.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Came upon another of my former posts that didn't sell. The 1989 home in Lake Placid, NY has 9bds, 10ba. It's been for sale since 2022 at $31.15M. In 2023, it was reduced to $15M. Taken off the market for 2mos., it's listed again for $15M.

It looks like one of those little German weather houses, doesn't it? Well, you won't believe what's inside.

The interesting living room. Well, we can barely see the fireplace w/all the stuff.

Long formal dining room.

Have you ever seen a kitchen with a gate? I mean, unless they have a dog as tall as a human, that's not a pet gate. There are also bars behind the cooktop. Look at the lights under the cabinets, so they look like they're hovering.

The kitchen is very small for a $15M house.

We're going downstairs, now.

Family room with a huge stone fireplace.

There's a door to this covered patio with a built-in fire pit and swinging sofas.

The home is like a maze of halls.

There's a shower in here, and is that a hot tub or a water feature? Nice ceiling and rock wall.

Double doors and a hall leading to the primary bedroom. This house doesn't look this big from outside.

The bedroom is weird. I just learned that this black thing is a Japanese Luong bed, probably custom made.

Check out the marble en-suite.

Look at this long hall.

It leads to this area with a spiral staircase, a bear, and a fake tree.

The spiral stairs go up to a guest apt.

It has a bigger kitchen than the main house.

The bedroom. Very spacious apt.

Out on the deck. Across the way, see that cabin on huge trunks? That's a guest cabin.

Well. This is certainly is literally in the trees.

Behind the treehouse is another house.

There's another apt. in here with a cool kitchen. Love the two-tone cabinets.

Here's a shooting range downstairs.

Yet another living quarters with a full kitchen.

Makeshift bedroom in the garage.

But, that's not all the living quarters. There's still a vintage Airstream trailer on the property.

They ruined it with the cement coating inside. Well, this property is big- it's 46.64 acres with lots of living quarters.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/116-Bear-Cub-Ln-Lake-Placid-NY-12946/30429336_zpid/

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 (1)

Devil!Hongjoong X fem!reader

Summary: A devil finds himself a pretty angel to have fun with for the night.

WC: 2.3k

CW: Very little plot, smut, a little aftercare

Hongjoong calls the reader: Angel, good girl, (pathetic) slut

Smut warnings: Kissing, degradation, nipple play, manhandling, biting, marking, clit play, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, (all reader receiving), protected PIV sex

AN: This is another one I wrote for @malldreamprincess once upon a time, who gave me permission to share it with all of you. 💜 I hope you all enjoy.

If y'all like this, I'll post the second part. 👀

Tag List: @cherrycel @mxnsxngie @malldreamprincess

Few people had them. Those eyes that aren't necessarily evil, but they're not angel eyes either. They're not in a gray area either though. They're entirely unique, with that glitter of mischief and spark of defiance. Especially when that person smiles, and you really see those eyes pop and glow. 

Kim Hongjoong. He was a special individual with those devil eyes. They were magic, and depending on the time of day, that was both good and bad. His eyes were the only visible hint that he had any magic in his body. Only when he let it show, however. He could turn it on like a light, his eyes could change and pulse depending on what he wanted. Or needed. 

While devil eyes were commonly used in Hell for power, on Earth, humans fell in love with them. Hongjoong learned early on that his devil eyes could get him anyone he wanted. Men, women, anyone. But only if they wanted him back. Hongjoong could stare someone down all he wanted, but if they didn't want it, it didn't work. Most of the time, however, they wanted him. 

This particular night, he wants you. 

You were on your own at a bar. You'd gone out in an outfit that you knew would attract looks. You wanted someone, and you were making yourself available. You looked around, scanning the people, and someone's eyes met yours. 

Gorgeous eyes that could only be devil eyes. Your heart stopped and started again, chills ran over your body. Fucking hell, you thought, and you knew you had to pick him. He had looked like he wanted to devour you, and when he smiled, you closed your legs. That was when he got up from where he was sitting and sauntered over to you. 

He leaned against the bar, not breaking eye contact once. He made himself comfortable before he spoke. “I couldn’t help but notice how amazing you look tonight. If I didn’t know better, I'd have thought an angel came down to Earth.” His voice was higher than you expected, but it was silky. He spoke confidently, as if reading from a script he’d practiced. His compliment paired with his voice made you blush. 

“Thank you, you also look amazing.” He did, from his eyes to his clothes, he was amazing. He smirked and turned his body more towards you. 

"I'm Hongjoong." 

You smiled and gave him your name. 

"Aw, that's a pretty name.” He repeated your name and it made butterflies tear apart your stomach. "So what are you doing here tonight?" 

You wondered if you should be honest. The look in his eyes told you that he wanted the same thing you wanted, but you weren’t sure if you should be so forward. And suddenly, his eyes pulsed in color, and the words fell out of your mouth. 

“I’ve been lonely for a few weeks. I was looking for someone to sleep next to again.” Hongjoong’s smirk grew and he moved closer to you. 

“I can assist with that, angel,” he whispered. The whisper sent chills down your spine, and as you looked into his devil eyes, you felt the resistance slowly melt away and you were powerless to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway, as long as you went home with somebody, that was all you needed. 

“Oh can you?” Hongjoong’s eyes flashed again and he smiled bigger. 

“Why don’t I take you with me and I’ll show you?” Your cheeks burned red and your thighs had gone numb from chills, but you smiled back and bit your lip. 

“Lead the way.” 

He held out his hand to you, you took it, and in a matter of minutes, you were on your way to a night with Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong took you to a really nice apartment in the better part of the city. You looked around for a few seconds to take it all in. The ceilings were high, with windows that took up most of the back wall, and a living room the size of your whole apartment. It was truly beautiful, and the view of the city out the windows made it better. But you didn't get to look around for long before Hongjoong grabbed you. 

He grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall, getting as close as he could. “I want those pretty eyes on me tonight, okay angel?” You could only nod in answer, all other things left your body. “Good girl.” And he crushed his lips against yours, taking your breath away all in an instant. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, but also deepened the kiss, and for him to press his tongue against yours lit your body on fire. 

His hands snaked up underneath your shirt and up to your chest. You couldn't help the moan that came from you when his hands started roaming over you. He smirked and pulled back only long enough to pull your shirt off. But he stared for a second, taking in what you looked like. You suddenly felt insecure and covered your chest, hiding your face. 

"No, don't do that," Hongjoong breathed, pulling your hands away so he could pull off your bra. You whimpered when he did, but you didn't argue when he started playing with your tits. "You're fucking beautiful. Don't hide yourself from me." You nodded and your eyes met again, and he laughed when your eyes rolled back and you could only whimper in response. 

And before you realized it, he stopped and put his mouth on them instead. The soft whimpers turned to a yelp, and then you melted in his hands and it was a string of curses and moans. He treated it like the last bit of air on Earth was in your chest, he couldn't get enough. They were beautiful to him. 

You gasped out his name, not knowing what it would do. It made him go feral. 

Hongjoong pulled away and grabbed onto your hips again, yanking you away from the wall and throwing you onto one of the couches. He got on top of you and pinned your hands above your head. 

"I was hoping to make this last a little longer, angel, but I guess you really want it." He leaned back down and he went to your neck, biting down hard. You yelped in pain and tried to move away, but Hongjoong pushed your hands down harder and sunk his teeth in even more. Your eyes watered in pain, but that was when he licked and kissed the bite mark. 

He pulled back and surveyed his work before tilting his head to the side. "What, angel? Is Daddy being a little too rough?" You nodded and whimpered in pain, still feeling the soreness in your neck. Hongjoong took one hand and ran his fingers over the bite mark. You shivered at the touch. "I'll be a little more gentle then." Some of the tension in your legs released at that moment. 

But you didn't expect him to rip the rest of your clothes off. You shivered when he reached his hand down and ran his fingers along your slit, looking for your little jewel to make you scream. He did tease your entrance a bit, but he was more focused on finding that sweet spot on the outside. He smiled when you yelped and moaned. 

"Aww, here we are." He gently rubbed your clit, being slow at first, seeing how exactly he could touch you to make you scream. "You're soaked, angel." He ran his fingers up and down again, biting his lip when he realized just how wet you were. "You'll take my cock just fine." You whimpered at the thought. His eyes lit up and he went back to rubbing your clit. 

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, angel? Beg me first, beg for me to fuck you." 

You tried to stutter out the words, but Hongjoong was making it difficult, because he'd started rubbing your clit even faster. You knew exactly what to say, but it was so hard to get the words out. Hongjoong laughed and kept going. 

"I guess you don't want it that bad-"

You finally spat out the words, begging for him, whimpering and moving your hips up. Hongjoong smiled and pulled his hand away. "Good girl." 

He let you go only for a little bit to undress himself. You watched as he pulled off his clothes, your eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of all of him. He laughed when he noticed you were watching him, and hid your face in embarrassment. He climbed back on top of you and made you look at him. 

"Remember what I said? Keep your pretty eyes on me." You nodded. "Good girl." He got back up and grabbed something before he sat back. You watched him roll the condom onto his dick before he got back up and on top of you. 

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" You nodded, and he nodded back before he slowly pushed inside you. His eyes rolled back and he let out a soft groan. He grabbed onto you and slowly moved his hips, letting out soft moans and pants. 

"Fuck, angel, you feel amazing." And to him, you did. Yes, he said that to every woman he brought back, but with you, he really meant it. It'd been so long since he found someone who'd made him feel this good. He couldn't even speak, he was so overwhelmed. But after a little bit, he got himself under control and he was rough again. 

Hongjoong wrapped his hand around your throat and leaned close to your face. "Look at you, you're such a little mess. Go on, scream my name. See what happens." 

So you did, you arched your back and moaned out his name. It made those devil eyes pulse and roll back, and he slammed into you harder and gripped your throat tighter. 

"Again," he growled out. "Say it again." 

You barely got it out, but that made it better, and he went even harder than before. He abused that spot deep inside you and made you scream and tear up. For him, he was in fucking heaven. Hearing you scream his name while he was deep inside you, using your body, he felt like he'd explode from all the feeling. But he kept himself together as best he could. 

"You love this, don't you? Having someone use up your worthless cunt? Go on, scream, show Daddy how good it feels." 

Hongjoong laughed when you couldn't speak. You were so overwhelmed and overstimulated already, you felt like you could cum already. He was determined to make you cum over and over again, until he was all done with you. He knew you could take it. He had that feeling. 

You did cum only shortly after, and he knew that you did. He felt you tense up around him and knew what that distinct scream meant. He smiled and leaned back to rub your clit. By doing that, you felt like he sent you to another dimension. 

But he loved seeing you overstimulated and being a pathetic mess in his hands. 

"You pathetic little slut, you already came, huh?" He laughed, and it turned into a growl. "Then hold on, angel, because Daddy's not gonna stop any time soon." 

And your legs began to shake, violently. Your body couldn't handle all the shakes and tremors, but he still didn't stop. He was close, but he wasn't there yet. The sight of you being a fucking mess, sobbing and screaming, shaking, the constant tightening of your walls on his cock…

He was gonna stop soon, because he couldn't last long like this. 

You watched him as he got closer and closer, his eyes rolling back, when he gripped onto you harder, when his thrusts got sloppy and he was panting heavily. He eventually dropped his head into your neck and gripped onto your hair, chasing down the release he desired. Those growls from earlier were now desperate groans and gasps, and you swore you heard a soft whimper right when he was at the edge. 

"Mm-Oh fuck-" Hongjoong rolled his eyes back as he came inside you, stifling the whimpers and covering them up with growls. He pulled your hair and pushed as deep inside you as he could while he rode it out. 

And once it was over, you both sat for a minute, letting your bodies recover. You both were panting heavily, drenched in sweat, hair a mess. But you both felt fucking incredible. 

Hongjoong finally pulled back and got up to throw away the condom, stumbling a bit as he did. You sat up and did your best to get your breath back. Hongjoong looked over his shoulder at you from where he was, and there was a strange pang of guilt in his chest at seeing you so tired. 

He came back over to you with a glass of water. You looked up at him quizzically, but he just held it out to you. You gratefully took it and drank it all in one go. He smiled before sitting back down next to you. 

"You can stay for the night, if you want. I have rooms you can stay in, and you can eat any of the food I have." You stared and blinked at him in surprise. 

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Hongjoong looked you up and down. "You don't seem to be in any condition to take yourself anywhere." You looked down at yourself and realized he was right. 

"Well, then thank you."

"You're welcome." 

And as you looked back at him, those devil eyes flashed again.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[steddieas-shegoes]

firsts and seconds

for @corrodedcoffinfest day one prompt 'firsts'

rated t | 1000 words | cw: alcohol mention | tags: i would die for gareth emerson, i don't think you understand, bisexual king gareth emerson

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Gareth is the baby of the group, always has been, always will be. He's a year younger than Jeff and Frankie, and four years younger than Eddie. He was behind in everything, but it just was how it was.

He was a drummer and they needed one. The fact that he was the best drummer in a 100 mile radius helped.

But because of them hitting the ground running the moment he graduated, he didn't really get to have much of a regular young adult life.

He didn't really have much of a rockstar one either.

He had three extremely overprotective big brothers constantly by his side making sure he didn't do anything dumb, but they also made sure he didn't do anything at all.

"Promised your mom we would watch out for you," Jeff said.

"Last thing we need is you getting involved with some girl and ruining the band," Frankie said.

"Don't rush it, man," Eddie said.

But Gareth was now 20 years old and had never even kissed a girl. Or a boy, he didn't know what he was into. How could he? None of them would leave him alone long enough in the bars he was technically too young to get into to try.

Tonight. He would find a way to shake them tonight. He'd find a girl in the crowd, he'd buy her a drink, and he'd hope that she'd at least be willing to check this one thing off his list.

If he was gonna be a rockstar, he should get to kiss someone.

They were playing a smaller venue tonight, opening for a band that was bigger than them in theory, but not in talent. Story of their lives.

Hopefully, everyone would be distracted by the main act to not pay attention if he slipped off.

He was dripping sweat, cursing the fact that these small venues never had decent ventilation or fans for them to cool off, and the stage lights were always too close, building up a furnace on the stage.

His drums were packed, his shirt rolled up to help him cool off the best he could while he sipped on water. He hadn't even gotten a beer tonight, a nervous flutter in his stomach that he didn't want to make worse with feeling bloated from the combination of hops and heat.

"Gare!" Jeff's voice interrupted his walk towards the bar.

Dammit.

"You wanna head out? We're all so fuckin' hot."

"Yeah, yeah, let me just grab another water. Feeling kinda lightheaded."

That was definitely not the right thing to say. Jeff's mouth turned down in a concerned frown.

"Well, let's get you outside then. You need some fresh air. Eddie!" Eddie yelled back in acknowledgement. "Get Gareth a water!"

"I'm okay, I can get it." He argued, desperate to let his plan work. "You guys head out, be there in a few."

"Like hell am I leaving you alone when you're not feeling good," Jeff wrapped his arm around his shoulders and started pulling him towards the door. "You gotta speak up sooner."

"Jeff. Please."

Something in his voice must have alerted Jeff to the seriousness of his plan because he quickly pulled his arm away.

"What's going on?"

"I just need to be alone for a bit. Please?" Gareth wasn't afraid to pull out the pout. The pout worked on his mom every time. It had to work now, too. "Just for a little bit?"

Jeff searched his face, probably trying to see if there was something he should be worried about.

"I'll distract them for 15 minutes. But that's all I can guarantee," he finally agreed. "Whatever it is you're planning, please be safe. Please."

"What the hell could I possibly get up to in 15 minutes?"

Jeff sighed. "Don't ever ask that question to Eddie or Frankie."

He walked away and Gareth watched as he convinced them both to walk outside, probably to get some fresh air. He probably didn't have to be that convincing.

God, it was so hot.

The bar area of the venue was crowded, a lot of people taking the break between sets to throw back a shot or chug a beer. He genuinely did just need a water, so he forced his way through the people and got the attention of the bartender.

"Not a fan of beer?" A woman in a black dress and leather jacket asked him. She was smiling, sipping on something that could be water, might be a vodka tonic. The lighting wasn't good enough to see bubbles.

"Not a fan of being hot," Gareth smiled.

"Awful confident of you."

Oh. Oh shit. Was she flirting with him?

"Trying something new tonight, I guess."

"Oh? Anything in particular?"

Gareth liked her smile, her eyes. She seemed a few years older than him, closer to Eddie's age.

"Well…I've never actually kissed anyone before," Gareth figured honesty was the best policy.

"Never?" She didn't believe him, but that was okay. She'd figure it out if she let him make a move.

"Never."

"Let's give it a go then."

So he did.

She leaned in, closed her eyes, and he was having his first kiss. He didn't know her name, he was surrounded by hundreds of people, and he was certain that stars were exploding behind his eyes.

She pulled away after a few seconds, smiling, winking, and walked away.

"Damn, she didn't even give you a name?" A guy to Gareth's left asked, watching as she walked away.

Gareth shook his head. "Didn't need it."

The guy touched his arm and smiled at him, much like the woman had before.

"I'm Evan. You're the drummer, right?"

"Sure am."

"You wanna have a kiss with someone you know the name of?" Evan asked.

Gareth wasn't about to pass up this opportunity, so he nodded.

When Evan kissed him, he saw fireworks.

Stars and fireworks.

"Wanna come outside?" Evan asked.

Gareth shook his head.

Firsts and seconds were enough for now.

[nilolol30]

Cigarette lips

(TW: smoking, mention of alcohol and a kiss)

MK and Mei hosted a get together this week it was a annual thing they did to have a fun time with everyone, slowly more people got invited after events well more like MK befriended them or got in good enough terms.

You weren't a social person but you decided to try and step out of your comfort zone for a bit who knows maybe you'll have a good time!

It was an hour into the night.

And you weren't having a good time.

Not that you wasn't enjoying the company of your friends but it was crowded the music was loud and it was getting really hot, the food and drinks were okay though.

Mei ran off to make a list of karaoke requests and ran around the bar to ask everyone if they had a song request, not wanting to get caught up in that you taped MKs shoulder "Hey I'm gonna head out for a breather okay?" Mk nodded in understanding.

"Want someone to go with you?" You shook your head and got up, grabbing your bag you headed outside of the bar for a bit surprisingly the smoking area was empty you can guess everyone is enjoying the night inside.

Finding a seat away from the doors you sat down and digged through your bag, you made a small promise to Pigsy to try and cut back on smoking but right now you felt like you needed it.

After a bit you fell into a comfortable silence at least it wasn't so cold tonight, but you nearly dropped the lit cigarette after you jumped seeing a silhouette on the chair next to you.

"Woah careful you might fall of your chair" The silhouette chuckled, Macaque.

"Well can't blame me you creepy ass, I didn't think you'd come" Macaque smiled and lazily leaned back into the chair "Eh had some free time and thought I'd be a super cool mentor and accept the kids invite, but what about you?" He made a small gesture to the doors before adding "Aren't you gonna party? Heard the dragon got everyone up and singing."

You shrugged "Just needed some fresh air" Macaque let out a small hum "Well this is the opposite of fresh air don't you think?" He pointed to the cigarette between your fingers "I thought you quit."

"I didn't 'quit' I said I'd cut down on it" He only raised an eyebrow at your attempt of a defense but he let the topic drop "So you not gonna go on stage?" You couldn't see inside of the bar but you can hear Tangs attempt at singing a duet with Pigsy no doubt Mei will record it.

"Hm nah I'd rather the only thing to hear me sing is my isolated kitchen and shower" Macaque snickered a bit "Aw you wouldn't make an acception for lil ol' me?" He poked his own cheek giving a small wink.

"Aren't you the most theatrical person here? Why don't you get on stage?" You take a quick hit of your smoke turning away to blow so the smoke wouldn't get in Macaque's face "Hey I'm a story teller not a singer and even if I was I doubt I'd last long on that stage" he pointed to his ears.

"Ah right but isn't singing a form of storytelling?" Now it's your turn to smirk and you lean towards Macaque.

"Ah but it can often leave out many details and I am all about details" you both laugh for a bit "Hey want a drink?" Macaque offered but you shook your head and leaned back to your seat "No thanks had my fill tonight" He nodded and pulled out his own drink from whatever portal he made.

You both sat in silence Macaque occasionally sipping his drink while you took a huff while turning away from him to let out the excess smoke "Hey I'm going to be having another shadow play again wanna watch my brilliant show?" Macaque smiled and confidently puffed out his chest.

"Really? They still let you perform shows after your whole stunt with Mk?" From what you remember so much property was destroyed even the stage, you would have thought he got banned "Pf of course! I fixed the place...after I got back and I'm the best they got, they're lucky to have me 'work' there" in his laugher Macaque almost spilled his drink thankfully he only spilled some over his hand.

Shrugging you agreed "Sure I'm curious on what you'll come up with" you glanced at Macaque as he was licking the liquor off his hand.

He smiled, whipping his hand on his clothes and leaned towards you moving his chair closer to yours "Then I'll make sure to reserve a special seat just for you~" you put out your cigarette in the ashtray with a smile "Oh? I'm special now~"

Macaque winked again "Of course, and since you're so special I'll start preparing the show for an earlier day for such a special person!" he jumped out of his chair abandoning his half finished drink on the table and turned to you "But how about a gift for the road huh?"

Macaque points to his lips with a smirk, you let out a laugh you signal him to come closer to which he did and pulled him into a kiss.

It was short but to the point both of you pulling away he smiled letting his finger trace your lips "That was great...'cept next time I don't think tobacco suits those lips" standing back up straight Macaque fell through the portal underneath his feet.

You continued to sit outside for a bit with a smile before deciding to join the party again, standing up you took the pack of cigarettes form your bag and placed it onto the table for whatever lucky person to find them, you take the drink Macaque previously abandoned and walked back inside.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Some more thoughts Based on this post where you have your soulmates signature and Steve is a bat by @strangersatellites

I'm putting them in a new post so I don't derail it. I hope to I see several take on the initial concept. It's so fun.

Nancy and Jonathan he knows from back home they moved out here before him and have jobs at the paper. Are they are romantically involved or just friends now 🤷‍♀️ either way they work well together.

And they help Steve in his search. Jonathan knows where most of the murals in the city are and Nancy gives him some tips on getting people to give him information and a list of questions to help him along.

Benny has a deli across from one of them. He won't give up much, things good for business draws a crowd and if Eddie just happens to a regular who always tips good well why would he sell him out. Still he does offer Steve a sandwich and a list of a few murals that are lesser known in the city.

Heather works in the shop across from on and is annoyed in the uptick of customers. They're cutting into her down time. She didn't see anything anyway and she tells Steve he's wasting his time. The Bat is a ghost no one ever seen him. Or so she says.

Steve still has to work so there are days when he makes no progress, gets nowhere on finding his soul mate. Spends sleepless night tracing the bat on his hip and looking at the picture Jonathan gave him hoping somewhere in the is a clue.

So on and so forth skipping ahead.

Then the Robin thing I initially brought up

I can see a Steve running around the city type of thing happening because of this. He’s turning into a real detective, asking about all the murals, folks who live in the area. Steve meeting other characters from Stranger Things as he moves closer to his goal of finding his soulmate. He’s checked every single one he knows of is commiserating at the bar by the latest one. Robin is a bartender, mostly waving off his search until he waxes on about his soulmate and how talented they are. Steve isn’t the usual sort looking for Eddie so she slips him the address for another bar, one that play live music, has art all over, tells him to check it out. CC is of course play in front of the biggest mural Steve’s seen from his soul mate yet.

Steve wants to memorize every aspect of the mural, wants to take in every detail but it's hard with a band playing right in front of it. Harder still when his eyes catch on the lead singer and can look away. Mesmerized for an entire set.

He doesn't even realize he's just been sitting there watching until the band leaves for a break. Then he's turning to the bartender, an older man in flannel, asking about the mural. Wayne chuckles, "you'll have to ask the owner about that but he doesn't usually talk about it."

Steve's a little tipsy form earlier as he accepts the beer Wayne slides to him like a condolence. Sulky over one more obstacle standing between him and his person. "Could you ask him anyhow, please?" Wayne looks him over takes in his downtrodden face and the begging tone of his voice before giving a nod.

Steve’s not very hopeful by the time Wayne slides another beer to him either a shrug. He stays for the band and hopes that maybe if he's persistent he'll get the information. Nancy always insists sleuthing takes persistence.

He's mesmerized all over again and feels like dark eyes are boring into him, like this one's just for him. Which is silly, he's drunk and he's never heard this band, much less met the man singing. No way would he be singling him out, just a trick of the lights and the third beer he ordered.

When the singer climbs down from the stage he trips over a light playing it off as a bow. But what stands out to Steve is dark eyes still hooked on him as Eddie dances through the crowd signing autographs and giving hugs.

Steve turns away, it's a lot, too much and he's still ninety percent sure he's imagining it. All up until there's a sweaty musician's chest brushing against his arm as Eddie leans on the bar next to him, "so I hear you've been asking about our favorite artist."

I dunno I'm sorely tempted to write it write it but I've got so many wips already so I jsut wanted to get out some thought because I found the concept so inspired.

[hearts4youz]

"The Captains Daughter" Chapter Two

comment if u want to be added to my tag list <3 @abbiesxox A/N: Thank you all sooooo much for reading chapter one, it means a lot!! Heres chapter two. From here on out you can expect like 1-2 chapters of this to come out per week!! i'm so excited to share the rest of this story that has been marinating in my braincells for so long lmao.

Word count: 1.5k

Reader pov: You marched into the training facilities for your first session with the masked Lieutenant. You donned a hoodie and leggings, the training rooms were chilly. You walked into the changing rooms to lock up your bag, although it was highly unlikely someone would steal it, this was a military base after all. Fastening the lock around the small cubby, you took off your hoodie and threw it inside as well. Leaving you in a thin cropped t-shirt. You left the locker room and took in the smell of the training area, it was the size of a warehouse and smelled like your high school gymnasium. There were multiple different areas of the facility. A gym, featuring endless sets of weights, squat racks, benches, etc. There was an enclosed area for weapons practice, boasting many different kinds of guns, knives, and any other device used for bodily harm. The base also boasts, an impressive, multi story agility course with different obstacles at each level. Last but not least, there is a recovery room, mostly used for warmups and cooldowns.

After you took it all in, you spotted Ghost doing squats with a great deal of weight on the bar. He sported a skull print balaclava instead of the mask he wore at yesterday's meeting. He also had on tapered black sweatpants, a fitted t-shirt which hugged his muscles in a very flattering way, and tennis shoes. You walked toward him, stopping short and standing by the weight rack so you didn't interrupt his workout.

You watched as he did rep after rep of squats, face contorting more with each one, you could see his face more now with the absence of eye black he wore yesterday. Sweat dripped off his brow, his eyes squeezed shut as he finished the last rep, the bar made a clattering sound as he rested it back on the hooks of the rack. Wiping his face with his sleeve he turned to you.

"Do you sleep with your eyes open," he says abruptly.

"What?"

"Your eyes, are they always like that or am I just that impressive," he says smugly

"No- I," You start.

"Save it, lets get started."

He starts walking at a fast pace to another area of the gym, you jog to catch up. Ghost leads you to three boxing style rings.

"lets start with a spar, consider this a pre-test, I wanna see what you are capable of," Ghost gets straight to business.

You gulped, you're not a bad fighter, but he has an unfair advantage. He's at least 6'2, not to mention you just watched him casually squat 600+ pounds for reps. The two of you stepped into the ring, you tried to not let your nervousness show on your face. You weren't going to be able to overpower him, you were going to have to outsmart him, or be faster than him. Lucky for you, you used to be a competitive runner in high school, placing well in state championships for Cross Country and Track yearly. You also practiced Yoga, agility will be your friend in this matchup.

"Ready?" Ghost said.

"Yes, Simon," you taunted.

hopefully your mention of his name caught him off guard, you ran at him, faking a punch and slipping between his legs, popping up behind him. Your surprise worked, his delayed reaction gave you enough time for you to kick the sensitive area behind his kneecaps. Ghost stumbled forward but caught himself, turning to face you. He threw a punch, you tried to deflect it but he was too strong. Quickly recovering you ran at him again, trying to juke him out by performing another fake move. He must have picked up on your style quick because he stuck his leg out to trip you before you could jet by him. Realizing you lost the upper hand, you tried to stand up before he could pin you. Instead, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and hauled you up from the ground.

"Round two," he said gruffly

The second time around was worse than the first. You didn't have the element of surprise. He took you down within seconds

"I've seen enough," dissatisfaction present in his eyes.

"I know I did poorly, but to be fair," you tried to justify yourself.

"Do you think fights are fair?" He chastised.

"Let me tell you that none of the men you face in the field will be as gentle as I. Your little trick? Do you think an enemy soldier would even give you time to talk?" He continued, voice becoming more of a yell.

"How did you even get here?" He questioned.

"I'm not a bad shot, for what I lack in strength I make up for in speed and agility too."

Ghost raised a brow

"You've got a lot to work on in terms of hand to hand combat, but lets test your aim," He said.

Feeling more confident for this next test, you followed him over to the shooting range. The two of you entered the room, paper targets on one end, soldiers practicing their aim on another. Ghost picks out a variety of firearms. He hands you a Pistol first.

"Go ahead," he gestures to the targets.

You nodded, drawing a deep breath in and exhaling as you lined yourself up with the target 50 yards away. Inhaling again and holding it this time, you brought the gun up in front of your face, extending your arms and firing 3 shots rapidly. Two hit the center circle, one skimmed the edge between the center and the ring next to it.

You turned back to face Ghost, he only handed you the second weapon, a rifle. You repeated the same process before, this time letting the gun rest in the crook of your neck and holding it against your cheek as you fired three more shots in quick succession. All three hit the center this time.

Ghost handed you an SMG when you turned around. Holding the new gun in the same way as the rifle, one pull of the trigger fired multiple bullets, these were less accurate but still impressive. Clicking the safety on the gun, you handed it back to Ghost, he put away the weapons without a word.

"That's all for today, you are excused Sergeant," he says bluntly.

"Thank you for training me sir," You said, Mock politeness dripping from your tone.

"By the way, don't call me Simon. It's Ghost, or Lieutenant." Ghost grunted and turned to go, leaving you alone in the range. You stood for a moment, replaying the last 45 minutes in your mind. You had hoped to impress him with your marksman skills, but he seemed unimpressed. You needed to decompress, a run would relax you perhaps? You walked towards the locker rooms to change into warmer attire, the weather was cold in late November.

Ghost's pov:

The first day training the Sergeant, Y/N wasn't a total bust. I recalled the events of our session as I changed. She was a decent rifle shot, a terrible fighter though. Her use of my name was alarming, a clever move though. Soap probably told her, they talked through the meeting yesterday. Can't blame em' though, Price sure does love the sound of his own voice.

As I was about to leave the changing rooms, I spotted Y/N leaving the building, it was awfully cold outside to be going out. She had earbuds in, so it wasn't hard to follow her out the door. She lingered in front of the door for a moment, I stayed inside the vestibule leading to the outdoors. She took a breath and started jogging, turning the corner and leaving my sight.

I didn't know she was a runner, she mentioned she was fast after our spar though. Training after hours is quite admirable actually. Maybe she won't be such a letdown for the team after all.

I shuddered at the thought, Remember what happened last time you overestimated a newbies skills. I told myself. I will never let that happen to someone under my command again. Wincing at the memory, I tried to push the thoughts aside, but it comes flooding back to me

"It wasn't your fault Simon," Price

"There was nothing we could do," A doctor

"I'm sorry," Another doctor

Two lives

Gone because I authorized them for the mission

I thought they were ready

I didn't train them hard enough

I treated the two of them as friends, as brothers. I grew attached too quickly. I wasn't as close with them as I am the rest of the squad, fuck I barely knew them.

One week

One week they were here, their first mission they were so giddy, so eager to prove themselves, two boys about to become men. I remember the feeling when I was in their position.

Next, they were gone.

Never again will I let that happen to someone.

Never will I let that happen to Y/N.

For now, I'll pretend I don't care.

She can hate me all she wants, she can think I don't give a shit about her. Better that than her trusting me and me letting her down. For now, I won't care about her. Until she can prove herself worthy, I won't treat her as a friend.

Because I don't want to see a friend come back in a body bag.

[californiannostalgia]

Processing identity as a child abuse survivor

Recently I had a huge revelation. Come with me on this childhood trauma realization journey (if you want).

This post was written for those wavering on the 'was it abuse' question.

Fair warning, each of these revelations were a whammy. I recommend you keep in mind that these revelations will transform the way you see yourself and the world. This took me out of commission for hours at a time.

Revelation 1: Was I Abused?

Read this Tumblr post. Go down the list. Check the 'yes'es and 'maybe's.

'Was I abused' is a yes or no question. I need you to really think about this if your answer is 'kind of'. If you could be truly honest with yourself, what would your answer be?

For years I've gone to the logic of 'it wasn't that bad,' and 'at least the worst didn't happen,' or 'others have had it worse'. This is such a low bar. You deserve better than the bar your parents set for you. The socioeconomic circumstances and the normalization of violence in your living area? Yes, influential. But not a justification.

At the end of the day, the veracity of these statements don't even matter. It's a yes or no question: 'Am I a survivor of child abuse?'

It may take a really long time to truly process, and even then it might feel uncomfortable saying it like it's truth. I need you to know your truth is truth. It's a yes or no question.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress further until you've processed Revelation 1.

(Shameless plug-in of my fandom blorbo interests: Rick Riordan's Trials of Apollo series really helped me with this first revelation. It made me feel seen and less alone. It may not be perfect, but I personally liked it!)

Revelation 2: What does this mean? (health-wise)

Listen to this Ted Talk by an expert (medical professional).

This is the part where I got angry and really fucking sad. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be furious. Our life is not our fault and we're still stuck with this lot.

Genuinely this was such a shock for me to realize. The thing that has the biggest impact on my life is not my anxiety, depression, ptsd, insomnia, blood pressure, immune health, etc. The root cause of my physical and mental illnesses is Adverse Childhood Experiences.

ACE is more common than you'd think. Acknowledging that what happened to you was bad will be beneficial to humanity's survival in the long run. Like any illness, ACE can be fought at a societal level.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress to the next revelation until you've processed Revelation 2.

Take your time to be angry and sad. Take forever. You never have to forgive your abuser, even if they change their behavior. The chance at a civil acquaintanceship you might be willing to extend to your parents doesn't require your forgiveness.

.

Revelation 3: Why is your therapist recommending you retell your life story?

This one is mostly for when you have steady access to a therapist. Here are some things I wish I'd known before seeking out therapy in the US.

(Is it shitty that you can't get therapy on your own terms when you're underage? Yes, it fucking is. To those of us who survived to adulthood: holy shit y'all. At 19 I felt like absolute fucking bullshit, like my brain was a burning ball of tangled barbed wire. It does feel absolutely shitty. But reaching 19 is an achievement.)

The thing is, I do or say a lot of things that I later come to think of as embarrassing, inappropriate, or in certain circumstances, potentially abusive. Genuine trigger reactions happen. I will always have to live with a piece of my parents in my head. But I don't want to do to another person what they did to me. Self-awareness is what separates me from my abusers.

What to do about this? Number 1: chill out. You're not gonna be your abuser. Humans are unique and imperfect. They have not replicated themselves in you. It's okay to make mistakes when you're talking or reacting. Your brain is fucked up. You can do something differently next time.

Number 2: read this article about Overthinking, Over-apologizing, Oversharing, and Overwhelmed as trauma responses.

Then read this article on how to deal with Unresolved Trauma.

Yeah. It be like that. Isn't it fucked up? Recognizing the four Os in my behavior helped me realize I'm not an antisocial asshole by default.

Unresolved trauma is the root cause for my behaviors that I think of as unhealthy. This revelation happened very recently for me. Before this point in time, I couldn't understand why I would want to recount traumatic events in therapy.

At this point in time, I have regular access to a therapist I'm okay with. Going over memories and deconstructing the blame system seems like a reasonable thing to try.

What happened to you as a child is not your fault. You're not the one who landed yourself in your life. You've been given an unfairly difficult situation to be responsible for. You did not create your coping mechanisms for shits and giggles.

So yeah. Number 3: figure out your life with the help of a therapist. Let's see where we are ten years later or something.

Nothing is easy and everything is confusing. Take a break, hydrate, eat, sleep, do something nice for yourself. Do something you like doing. Thanks for reading.

[sashaisready]

Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warning: Beginning of smut 😎

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

He sets off out of the alley and you pause for a second before following him back to the club entrance, not really sure where this is going. He gestures to the bouncers who let you both in and he strolls back through to the bar area.

"Bucky, how is this quiet-" you protest but he just grabs your hand and leads you around the bar.

You flinch at the contact, making a mental note to remember later how your hand felt in his.

He leads you to a door and ushers you towards a flight of stairs. You drop in line behind him, your curiosity taking over. There's another door at the top which he unlocks with a fob and props open for you.

You step inside, it's a chic office with a huge mustard couch, as well as a small bar in the corner alongside the large writing desk. The walls are a brilliant white. Everything is modern and expensive looking, lots of high end wood and fancy furnishings. It looks like a picture from an interior design magazine.

He closes the door and looks at you expectantly, wriggling his fingers in a 'Ta da!' gesture. It's a lovely room, but you're not really sure what your meant to be looking at.

"I mean it's nice but..." you begin.

"And what can you hear?" he asks.

You pause. "Nothing...? Oh wait...wow, nothing!" You realise there is not a single sound coming from the thriving nightclub below.

He nods. "Yep...completely sound proofed up here. Perfect if you want some peace".

You listen out for any suggestion of a sound from below but he's right, the only noises are your footsteps as you walk through the room.

"It's so quiet" you gasp. "You could murder someone up here and-"

You freeze for a second, realising your mistake and who you're talking to. You turn to him, the colour draining from your face.

He just shrugs and awkwardly grimaces.

"Well...If you don't want anyone to hear anything" he sighs with a loaded inflection.

Your mouth hangs open in shock and your eyes dart around the space, looking at it with horror now you have new context – panicking as you wonder what might have happened where you're standing. A chill runs down your spine.

Bucky begins to snort with laughter. You flip around to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"Fuck, I'm kidding!" he laughs warmly. "It's only soundproofed so I can get some work done when the club's open...You've seen too many movies".

"Jesus, Bucky!" you squeal, slugging him on the shoulder. "You're such a dick".

You laugh reluctantly, relieved that he's only playing with you.

You flop onto the enormous couch, savouring the comfort.

"Thank-you for this, I just need a minute".

"Take as long as you like, Doll" he says kindly, taking a seat next to you.

You shoot up suddenly and look at him, remembering what he was doing before you ran out.

"Oh, wait – don't you need to get back to your girlfriend?"

Bucky frowns. "Who?"

"You know, that pretty girl you were with downstairs".

He scoffs. "She's not my girlfriend. She just attached herself to me in the VIP area like a limpet. I don't even know her name, why do you think I didn't introduce her to you?"

You snort laughing. "Fuck, you're such a pig" you giggle.

He grins smugly. "So I've been told".

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting at him. He smiles back, moving closer to you so that your legs are touching. You manage to stifle a gasp.

"So you thought she was pretty, huh?" he asks teasingly.

You nod. "Jesus Christ, yeah. Stunning. But all your girls are, aren't they?" you smirk back at him.

His eyes are suddenly alight with mischief.

"And how would you know that?" he purrs.

"You're not the only one who can read up on people..."

He cocks his head as he watches you intently. 

"So...what, you didn't want to be one of them?" His voice is lower now, less playful, more serious now your previous conversation has come up.

You rub your lips together, unsure of how much to admit to him. Everything just got a bit heavier. You pause for a moment, considering what to say. You're quickly sinking under the weight of his gaze.

"Well...I didn't think I could be one of them" you finally admit. Your voice is small, shy.

"What?" he asks, his face is suddenly stern.

"C'mon Bucky. Let's be real. I don't look like any of those girls" you shrug. "I was never going to fit in at Gambino's with thousand dollar wine bottles and cuts of steak costing more than my rent. I'm more...a beer and burgers kinda girl, you know? I didn't want to embarrass you..." you shrug.

He jumps up from the couch. "What??" he practically barks, his face twisted in anger.

"What?" you ask incredulously, surprised by his reaction.

"THAT'S why you turned me down??" he practically snarls.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Well...yeah".

He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief. "You're kidding me right??"

You chew your bottom lip. "....no?" You said hesitatingly, not sure what answer he's looking for.

Bucky stamps his foot and claps his hands victoriously.

"Fuck! I knew I wasn't going insane at the bakery" he whips out his phone. "I need to tell Steve this and rub it in his face" he says childishly as begins to furiously type on his screen.

This goes on for a few moments, his focus on you now entirely lost.

You glare at him with confusion, unsure of what you're meant to be doing. You're a bit annoyed that this is his reaction after you were open with him, putting yourself out there and admitting your insecurities. Now, what, he's texting his friends?? You slowly rise to your feet and awkwardly head for the door, thinking you should probably leave him to it.

"Nope" he says authoritatively. Without looking up from his phone he points aggressively to the couch.

"Sit your ass back down, I'm not done with you yet".

You obey him and plop yourself back onto the couch again immediately, responding to the assertiveness in his tone almost instinctively, seeing a tiny glimpse of his boss persona.

He finally finishes on his phone and slides it into his jacket inside pocket. His eyes lock onto you once more.

"Okay, so where we were? Oh, right. What the fuck is the matter with you?" He asks inquisitively.

"Excuse me?" You respond coolly, scowling at him.

"Am I getting this right - you turned me down for a date because you were uncomfortable with the restaurant choice and got yourself worked up looking at photos of me and other women?" He scolds, folding his arms across his chest.

"...uh. Yes".

"Right. So you did want to go out with me? And you were flirting with me in the bakery, right?"

You blush, feeling embarrassed at this interrogation and exposure of your feelings.

"...yes" you reply meekly.

He nods. "Okay. So I'll ask you again, what the fuck is the matter with you?"

You glare at him and clench your jaw. "I'm not going to sit here being spoken to like this"

You get up to leave and furiously head towards the door but he blocks your path.

"Dolldolldoll - I'm sorry" he stammers, grinning at you fiendishly.

"Don't be like that. I don't mean to give you a hard time. I just didn't see this coming. Here's me thinking you just didn't want to go out with me, that I'd misread all of the signals. That's why I haven't been back to the bakery – I assumed you thought I was a creepy jerkoff".

You avert your gaze. "No...but maybe I do now."

Your tone is stroppy, sullen. You're embarrassed that he finds this all so amusing.

He cups your chin in his hand and your breath hitches. He gently tilts your face up with his gloved fingers, leaning in close. You look up at him anxiously, very aware of the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

"Doll..." he says, much softer now. "All you had to do was tell me. We didn't have to go to Gambino's. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. But I'd never want you to feel uncomfortable. We could've gone anywhere. Hell, I would've taken you to Burger King if that's what you wanted".

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really." He grins back.

"But all those women, Bucky. I don't look like them. I just don't know if I'm enough for you-"

But you don't finish your sentence because he cuts you off with a sudden kiss. He pulls your face to his, nibbling on your lower lip for a moment before his tongue is in your mouth. You press back into him, your hands entwined in his hair as your tongue welcomes him greedily. You're practically panting as his arms lock you in his embrace. Your entire body seems to fizz as you drop the bottle of water you've been clutching. It's electric, better than you could have ever imagined.

He pulls away and locks your face between his hands, holding you so close that he's practically eye to eye with you.

"You really think I'd do that if I didn't find you attractive enough, Doll?" He tells you between heavy breaths.

"If I didn't think you were gorgeous? If I hadn't been losing my mind thinking about what's under your overalls every time I'm in the bak-"

It's your turn to cut him off now. You push him down onto the sofa, straddling him as you return to your place on his mouth, kissing him desperately, hungrily - as if it could be snatched away from you at any moment.

He kisses back just as urgently, his hands running up your back and over your hips. You can feel the metal arm now. His gloves are still on but you can feel the weight of it, feel the difference between it and his other hand as his fingers slide up the back of your dress.

You weren't even aware that you'd begun to rock back and forth, your crotch rubbing against his suit trousers as you desperately seek friction.

He moans softly into your mouth, it cuts through your lust haze and goes straight to your core. Your only thought is that you want to hear him make more of those noises. And you want to be the one causing them. Teasing them out piece by piece as if uncovering buried treasure.

He manages to peel you off him for a moment, gasping for breath as he looks at you.

"Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?" He pants. "I mean I'm happy to keep going here but I'm aware one of my men might come knocking at any moment - and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop if we go any further..."

You ponder his question as he begins to smatter butterfly kisses up your neck and down to your chest. You mewl at the feeling. On the one hand you want to go home with him - do this properly with the care it deserves and not risk interruption by one of Bucky's goons should something need his attention in the club...

...But you know you're already dripping. You're practically aching for him, desperate to feel him. You whine in frustration at having to stop, your libido clouding your judgement.

Bucky grins, his ego imploding at your clear desire for him. You've barely touched one another and you're already foggy with lust.

"Can we go to your place?" You ask quietly.

He nods and smiles at you, tapping your back with his fingers to signal for you to get off his lap. You do, getting to your feet and giving yourself a shake to break out of your cloud of arousal. Bucky grunts and adjusts his obvious erection as he stands up. 

You go to pick up the water bottle you dropped but he just waves it away and grabs your hand - leading you back down the stairs.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Hopeless: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: You and your lawyer try to fight your unlawful arrest but it's not looking good. The entire team feels your loss and tries to concentrate on the case at hand. None of them can predict the outcome.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

The team is forced back to the BAU but Hotch isn't worried about it. As soon as he steps foot into the bullpen, Penelope comes rushing down the stairs to greet them.

"I've logged into police dispatch for the area you've isolated. If anything's reported, we'll know when they know," Penelope says.

"Wait, are we staying on the case?" Emily asks.

"We all know that these unsubs are gonna react to last night's riot. Andrews is a good cop. He's just too emotional right now. If we don't stay on, with or without his permission, he and all the rest of us will regret it."

This pisses Emily and Derek off. Emily holds herself back from saying anything but decides it's better if she does.

"Let me try to understand here. You're going to ignore their request but you're not even going to help Y/N?" Hotch sighs because he knew this was coming. "If you should be ignoring anyone, it should be the officers assigned to Y/N's case."

"She's right, Hotch. Why are you pretending like what happened to Y/N didn't happen?"

Spencer locks eyes with Hotch, and he can see how much Spencer is hurting.

"Strauss called me and threatened my job and anyone's job who decided to work on the case. I am doing everything I can privately to help Y/N, but if everyone gets fired, then no one can help her. Trust me, I'd love to go down to that prison and fight everyone to get her back. I hate it, but she is going to have to wait."

Hotch walks away after that and Rossi addresses the team.

"He has a point. You all know Y/N would have said to work the active case."

"Yeah, I know," Derek sighs.

Spencer has tears in his eyes because he knows if they could talk to you, you'd tell them to help other people before you. When are you going to let someone help you first? When are you going to put yourself before everyone else? The team walks to the briefing room to continue working on the case since they have all the details and files about it.

"I talked to the beat cops. They're getting the word out to local businesses to keep an eye out for anyone who seems agitated by the news of last night's riot," JJ informs.

"By now, Andrews has to know that none of those kids are the unsubs."

"Then he's bound to beef up police presence in the Southeast. We should be there, too. The faster we can react, the more we can help," Hotch says.

"Do you think the unsubs know about the riot?"

"It's on the front page. I don't know how they can't."

"What if the profile is right?"

"Their reaction's gonna be quick and it's gonna be brutal. Basically, it's like knowing that lightning is gonna strike but not being able to pinpoint where."

Much like Hotch predicted, there is another murder because of what was featured in the news. Hotch sends over his team to investigate whether Andrews wants it or not.

"What are you doing here?" Andrews asks.

"Detective, we can argue about this later. Right now, you have a crime scene and we're here to help."

Andrews must realize he is in over his head because he nods once and allows them to enter the bar of the newest crime scene. There is someone who is nailed to the bar counter and someone else who is beaten on the ground.

"They nailed the bartender's hands to the bar first. The other bastard got off easier. They just plain beat him."

"I'm getting real sick of us being right and it just not mattering," Derek mutters.

"This is weird. The unsubs are extremely physical. They beat their victims mercilessly with blunt objects. Why aren't these nails pounded in?"

"They probably used a nail gun. With all the gentrification and turnover in housing In the neighborhood, what's a common sight these days?"

"Builders, contractors, and construction workers."

"Wait a minute, killing four people in that first home invasion never made sense to me. Unsubs build to something like that. What if this wasn't their first murder? The first two rounds of vandalism were typical, but that last case right before the home invasion, was a random construction site. A single-family townhouse. Prentiss, you flagged it yourself."

"Yeah." She takes out her phone to call Penelope. "Hey, Garcia. I need the address of that townhouse that was vandalized."

Only Emily and Derek go to the townhouse that is now owned by a nice couple who are looking to start a family. This isn't going to be an easy talk to have with them, and Derek hopes they will be cooperative with them. When the nice couple answers the door, Derek quickly gives them a rundown of their presence.

"I don't understand how we can help."

"Sir, we believe that whoever vandalized your house is responsible for the murders in the area."

"Oh, I know. We've read the papers, but that's not something we're gonna think about right now."

"We also think it's possible that your home was vandalized for a reason."

"What do you mean?" the man's wife asks.

"May we come inside?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"We believe there may have been another murder before the first one the police became aware of," Emily explains as the front door closes.

"You think there might be a body hidden here on our property?"

The woman's hand goes to her stomach as a way to protect her unborn baby.

"It's possible. At the very least, the men we're looking for may have worked here. Were there any issues with workers during construction?"

"No, nothing."

"Did anyone appear overly confrontational? I understand people come and go during construction, but was there anyone at all that you may have noticed suddenly wasn't around?"

"Oh, God. After the vandalism, we called this contractor to oversee the repairs. He never called us back. They smashed every room except for the nursery. They didn't touch that one."

"May we see it?"

The young couple escorts Derek and Emily to the back room where the nursery is. The walls are blue and pink with storks painted on, fairy lights above the crib, and just a beautiful room for a newborn baby. There is a short wall protruding from the main wall that doesn't look like it belonged in the original design. Derek touches the wall and knocks twice to confirm that it's hollow.

"This wall is structural," Derek says to Emily before turning to the couple. "I wouldn't ask you this unless I felt it was incredibly important. I need to open up this wall."

"No," the woman shakes her head.

"We can't live here not know," her husband says.

"Ma'am, I promise you, even if I have to do every bit of the work myself, this wall will be repaired. It'll go right back to being exactly what you want. Please?"

"Okay," she nods.

Emily calls in a crew to open the wall, and what they find inside is shocking to the young couple. There is a dead body wrapped in plastic wrap stuffed into the wall. Emily takes out her phone to call someone.

"This is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI. I need a CSI unit right away.

"I can't be here," the woman shudders.

"Let's move over here." Derek moves the couple away from the wall. "Is there someplace the two of you can stay?"

"Yes, we have friends I can call."

"After you give the police a statement, they can take you to your friend's house."

"Thank you."

As soon as the police and the CSI unit arrive, the young couple is taken downstairs for a statement.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Derek asks Emily.

"I don't know. I mean, you redo your dream home, about to start a new chapter of your life, and then this? How did you know?"

"The other crime scenes were brutal but it had control. They took their time. That type of MO had to start before the home invasions. This entire place was destroyed except this room. Why?"

"Because they took the time to rebuild the wall once they buried the contractor."

"Exactly. If they smashed this place up, he could have been discovered."

"Still. A body inside the wall?"

"It's like a builder's tradition. You leave a little something behind to send a message to the people who may do work down the road. Like the front page of a newspaper or a photo of the construction crew. It's like a time capsule."

"Okay, so what would you need to rebuild this wall? Drywall, brickwork, and electrical?"

"I'll call Garcia." He pulls out his phone and calls her. "Hey, girl."

"Hey, what do you need?"

"Pull up the address of the townhouse that was vandalized. Give me work permits for the contractor."

"That would be James Morris. Is he our unsub?"

"No, actually, I'm afraid he's our first victim. Does it list Morris' subcontractors?"

"Yes, it does."

"Okay, I need all the names and addresses of whoever was hired to do the electrical, brickwork, and drywall."

"That would be three names, one address. 5058 B Street near Anacostia. I'm sending you it now."

"Thanks, babe." Derek hangs up. "We were right. They're a pack."

Emily informs Hotch who meets up with Derek and Emily at the unsubs' house. They have to be prepared for everything, so they bring in all the big guns. These guys love violence, so they're not going to go down easy. Hotch and Derek are the first ones in the house, but there is only one of them inside. He gets up to flee but Hotch grabs him so he can't go anywhere. The rest of the team filters through the house but the other two unsubs are not there.

"Where are the other two?" Hotch asks.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Aaron." 

Hotch turns to Rossi who shows him what's playing on the TV. It's footage of the murders they've done. 

"You like that, sir? I got more," the man smirks.

"Where are the others?"

"Go to Hell."

There is a car out front that Emily can use to track whoever owns it. She has Penelope on the line to give her the license plate number.

"Garcia, I need vehicle information on all the residents. D.C. plate 7-4-Delta-Alpha-4. I also need to know if they're registered on any jobs right now."

Detective Andrews also has his men putting an APB out on whoever owns the vehicle and gets a hit.

"I got a visual on the station wagon just south of 8th, heading toward Half Street in Southeast."

"That's right next to their current work site."

"Deploy tactical units to 922 Half Street in Southeast," Andrews orders.

"We got them!" Emily calls to her team inside the house.

"Morgan, forget him. He's nothing. Let's go."

The other two unsubs are the unfinished housing project they are contracted to work on, and they know the second they hear sirens that they aren't getting out of this. They think they're bigger than what they are and started something they knew they couldn't finish. It ended with both of them dead, their bodies riddled with bullets from the police.

Case closed but not for you.

After you were finished with the long interrogation, they moved you to the other side of the prison where you were given your cell number. You're sharing this cell with three other women with your lawyer's words ringing in your head.

They're denying you bail. You will be put in jail awaiting your trial.

You won't even get to see Spencer but maybe this is for the best. Why give him hope only for that to be taken away when you're convicted of these crimes? You have faith in Steve but what can he do when all the evidence points to you? The only thing that can save you is if the person who actually did it gets caught and admits it.

Every cell you pass by is enough to send you into a fit of tears. The trauma and fear of each woman weigh heavily on your shoulders as if their trauma is your own. You stop outside of your cell and wait for the door to open. The three women inside look at their new roommate. The woman occupying the bottom left bunk doesn't look friendly at all. She looks like she could kill you if you look at her wrong. Maybe you won't engage in conversation with her. The woman on the top left bunk is quiet with her head down so she isn't looking at you. You feel waves of anger roll off her but it's controlled anger. She might not have good intentions, so you'll make sure to be extra nice to her. The woman on the bottom right bunk is the friendliest of the bunch. Well, you feel like she is. She's really sad and shy but maybe you can help her out of her shell. If you had to choose one to be friends with, it'd be her.

Well, this is your life now. May as well make lemonade with what you got.

Frank walks into his home where Clarissa is waiting for him. She jumps into his arms and kisses his face with a huge smile.

"I've missed you," she grins.

"Okay, get off me."

She gets off him and clears her throat, smiling to pretend like that didn't happen. Rob comes walking out of the kitchen with a bloodstain on his shirt. Frank sighs in frustration and points to the mark.

"Really? You couldn't have kept it clean?"

"Don't give me that shit. Be thankful I'm even here at all. Some kids you got. Obedient as hell."

"Isn't that what we want?"

"You know I like the backtalkers," Rob smirks. "I left the stuff in your room. I gotta go. Itchy hands."

Frank rolls his eyes as his friend leaves. He turns to his wife who smiles innocently. Innocent. She's far from it. She's in this just as deep as Frank is.

"Where are the kids?"

"Chores."

Frank hums as he passes by his wife to get to their bedroom. On the bed is a black duffel bag with the stuff he asked Rob to get him. Frank hasn't been home nearly ten minutes and he's already itching to get out again. He yanks off his tie and throws it on the bed before ripping open the bag. Inside are all kinds of weapons from small guns to big guns and knives. Frank grabs one of the biggest guns inside the bag and takes out the magazine to check the bullets. He can't remember the name of the gun but Rob says it's one of his bests.

"What are you going to do with those? I promise the kids behaved while you were gone."

"I don't care about the damn kids right now, Clarissa."

"How did it go with Y/N?"

"I made sure that bitch stays in jail. I didn't kill those seven men for her to walk. Don't worry. She's taken care of."

"But she's my--"

"I don't care what she is to you!" Frank yells, and Clarissa flinches at his tone. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm just having a hard time."

"I know. It's okay."

"With Y/N out of the picture, I can focus all my attention on her bitch boyfriend, Spencer. I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch for taking her away from me," Frank says and cocks his gun.

"These violent delights have violent ends." - William Shakespeare

x

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[aoife-asturmaux]

a few years ago in shadowbringers i set out to visit every bar/tavern in the game and make a list of them. i've been keeping the list updated ever since, and this week i went through and added the dawntrail ones! there were a ton. Endwalker only added like 4 tops, but the Dawntrail additions doubled the size of the list........

i will post the list separately another time (it's in a google sheet on an account tied to my legal name), but for now I wanna share the pics i took during aoife's epic bar crawl 2 electric boogaloo. (contains dawntrail spoilers!)

After jotting down the spots in Tuliyollal, my next stop was Urqopacha. There are a couple of named establishments in the Pelupelu half of the map, and one unnamed distillery.

I then spent a long time in Worlar's Echo trying to figure out if the Yok Huy have bars. The seating areas and flagons suggest they do, but I couldn't figure out who was selling the drinks....

After trying & failing to identify any eateries in the Hanuhanu village, my next stop was Many Fires, which serves as a rest stop for travelers and naturally sells food and drinks.

I couldn't find any restaurants or bars in Iq Br'aax - I found a couple cookstoves, but they didn't seem to belong to a specific place. There were also no restaurants in Mamook, which I guess makes sense considering all they eat is najool.

Next my journey took me to Shaaloani. While I had expected to find an even distribution of saloons and the like, I found that the restaurant scene was mostly concentrated in Hhusatahwi. Every other building there shows signs of being a dining establishment. Meanwhile, Sheshenewezi Springs is much more residential, and none of the buildings there looked like they served food or drink.

Speaking as an American from "the west", the big saloon in Hhusatahwi is probably my favorite bar in Dawntrail....

I briefly scanned Heritage Found to see if there were any bars to speak of, but aside from one random dining area in the Outskirts it wasn't immediately clear if there were any.

I concluded my tour in Solution Nine, which has probably the highest number of bars per capita of any settlement in the game. It would be a herculean task to document each and every one of them, especially since none of them have names, so I just made a note of their volume on my list. The cafe Mosaic was also a welcome change of pace as one of the few ingame eateries not focused on alcohol.

I did also boot up NG+ so I could document the eateries in Living Memory, but I didn't end up taking any pictures there. something about that place wigs me out haha... and since the eateries weren't named or permanent (or even technically real) I wonder if I should include them in the list or not....

Anyway, eventually i'll get that list up somewhere public lmao

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

No, Nothin' Good Starts in a Getaway Car

Part 1 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: On the worst first date of your life, you're aching for any excuse to cut the date short. When a chance encounter with a gorgeous blonde presents you with a chance to escape, you'd be a fool not to take it.

Disclaimer: N/A

Warnings: afab!reader

Word Count: 2784

A/N: Hi! I wrote this for @cherrycola27's 1K Celebration Top Gun Taylor's Version. I had an absolute blast writing it. I listened to Getaway Car by Taylor Swift on repeat, and the story ran away from me. It's also the very first fanfiction that I've ever written. I really hope people like it! And to the lovely @cherrycola27, congratulations on 1k followers! I'm so happy for you!

I have about a billion thanks to the fantastic @roosterbruiser for proofreading this as well!

AO3: Cross-posted here! My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

Click Here for the Top Gun Taylor's Version Master List

You meet Jake Seresin in the midst of what is arguably the worst first date you've ever been on. San Diego is at its’ best on the gorgeous summer day you greet James outside a bustling bar for your first date. You’d come across James’ profile after signing up on Tinder for the first time at the prompting of your girlfriends.  At first glance, he is the ideal match for you. He seemed intelligent, 30 years old, worked out regularly to keep fit, had a full-time job, and was a family man. There were no glaring red flags, so you swiped right. Your conversation in the app was a bit boring, but you figured it was more due to the medium of your interactions than the man himself. So you set up a date, picking a bar in a popular area of the city, and dolling yourself up in the prettiest sundress you own, a violet number that swishes to the middle of your thighs.

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it and you didn’t see it

If only he didn’t open his mouth as you sat at a table and began to get to know one another. The first indicator that James was too good to be true was when he ordered you a gin and tonic without asking you what you liked. And then there was the conversation. All he could talk about was himself, his ex-girlfriend, and, shockingly, his mother. If he wasn’t chatting your ear off about the paragon of virtue and perfection that his ex was, he was talking about his mama and how he ached, longed, and pined to find somebody to do for him what she did for his dad and their family. From what you could gather, the man had a borderline uncomfortably close relationship with his mother. He'd even mentioned needing his mom to hold his hand for his yearly physical. It had been over an hour, and he hadn’t asked you one question about yourself! Needing a break, you excused yourself, alluding to refreshing your drink, and made your way to the bar. 

I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

The bar was packed as expected for a Friday night in San Diego. The crush of people pressed you up against the countertop. The bartenders rushed from end to end, filling out drink orders at lightning speed. You finally managed to order an Old-Fashioned and were waiting patiently for the bartender to come back with your drink, idly playing with your phone and desperately counting the minutes until you could say goodbye to your date for the night.

"One Old-Fashioned," came the harried bartender's call as she passed the cut crystal glass over the bar top towards you.

"Thanks," You chirp, praying your smile isn't as pained as you feel.

“Thanks, darlin'," is also the response from the man on your right as his hand closes over yours and the amber drink in the glass.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

"O-oh!" you gasp. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here. We must have ordered the same thing!" You release the glass into his grasp.

"An old-fashioned, huh?" He enquires in a deliciously Texan twang. The rest of him is just as delicious, from the emerald eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the cut jaw with a toothpick pressed between thin lips, and the broad shoulders in a polo just a shade darker than his arresting eyes. He's tall, too, at least six feet, and for once, you don't feel like a child looking up at him. Instead, you feel positively delicate in his shadow.

"Yup," You chirp, "I needed something strong to get through what has to be the worst date I've been on in my life."

“A bad date, huh?” His voice is warm and slightly husky. While you usually wouldn’t engage with a man trying to chat with you in a bar, there’s something about this one that draws your attention.

“Yes,” you nod shyly, “it’s been terrible. But I’m sure you’ve got something better to do than hear about the bad date experience of someone you’ve just met.”

“And what,” he asks, turning the toothpick in his mouth end over end, “better thing do you think I have to do?”

Some foreign confidence inhibits you as you take a sip from the glass he places in your hand, letting the liquid slip lazily down your throat as you examine the bar around you.

“Are you sure one of those girls over there isn’t a better companion for your night?” you ask, gesturing towards a group of girls wearing skimpy dresses, sky-high heels, and sashes. They’re each holding a flute of champagne while drunkenly giggling and dancing at the edge of the dance floor. They must be a bachelorette party if the tiara and glitter are leading you right. “They look like they’d be perfect for giving you the good time you’re looking for.”

“And what would you say,” he smirks, grabbing the glass back from you and taking a swig of his own, “if I say I would like nothing more than to know exactly what it is about Mr. Average over there that’s got you all hot-n-bothered? And not in a good way, at that?”

“I’d say, another Old-Fashioned, and you’re on.” From the delight on his face, as he flags down another bartender and orders your drinks, you can see that he’s just as excited to have your full attention as you are to have his. Your decision is made even easier as you lean against the counter and peer through the crowd looking for James. You’re not even a bit surprised to see his attention on his phone in the way it hadn’t been on you when you’d been sitting across the small table from him.

It’s only a few minutes before a pair of fresh Old-Fashioneds are slid your way, and bright green eyes impale you. Taking a sip to fortify yourself, you tell him the whole sordid tale, from swiping right on Tinder to James’ idealized relationship with his ex and his codependent one with his mother. Your drink is long gone by the time you finish, and you’re fiddling with a slim straw as the last words leave you in a rush. It’s a shock to your system when a hand grasps yours.

"A pretty little thing like you shouldn't have to deal with bad dates. A man should be thanking his lucky stars for getting to take a beautiful girl like you to a place like this," the stranger purrs. 

"Smooth," you chuckle, somehow still intrigued despite having been cursing men not long before. "Now I'm just counting the minutes until it's polite for me to make an excuse to walk out of here as fast as I possibly can, and then I never have to see him again." 

"Well, sweetheart," he grins conspiratorially, "I think you've made your feelings perfectly clear already." At your questioning hum, he continues, "Seeing as how you're holding a stranger's hand at the bar and all."

You squeak in response and extricate your hand from the heat of his large palm and long, calloused fingers, face hot and cheeks flushed.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely. The handsome stranger's eyes seem amused and all-knowing as he bats down every apology spilling from your maroon lips.  Finally, he takes one step further into your space, his hand curling around your hip in a tender caress that sends heat rocketing through you.

"Tell you what, sweetheart." the hot puffs of breath into your ear send a shudder down your spine. "If the date is as bad as you say it is, I'll drive the getaway car. But first, why don’t we show him what he’s had and still missed all night?"

You're transfixed, peering up into sage green pools. This proposition will likely be a better end to the night than anything you expected. Better, definitely, than going home, changing into your pajamas, eating ice cream out of the carton, and venting on the phone to whichever one of your girls can lend a sympathetic ear.

One nod is all it takes. Your handsome stranger drags you out from your sheltered spot at the bar, making his way to the small dance floor. He twirls you around on the dance floor, song after song, in front of the table you were sitting at with your date. At first, you’re worried, not wanting a confrontation between your handsome stranger and James. But as the songs transition, you realize that you’re smiling and laughing outright, all tension dissipated in the heat of his calloused hands on you. Mr. Handsome, as you’ve dubbed him in your head, is a fighter pilot for the US Navy with a dry sense of humor that has you in paroxysms of glee. As you glide across the dance floor, you share information about yourself too. It’s gratifying to hear that he’s as devoted to his job as you are to yours.

It takes a fellow bar patron pointing the two of you out before James notices. As Mr. Handsome twirls you in a spin that wouldn’t have been out of place in Dancing With the Stars, you can see James’ face grow redder and redder.  

Mr. Handsome notices too, and with one final spin, as he clutches you close enough that you can feel the solid muscle of him against your body, he smirks out, “I’ve got you, gorgeous girl. He’s not going to touch one hair on this pretty head. And,” tone growing dark, in a growl that reduces your knees to jelly, “he’ll have to get through me to do that.” 

The song, something peppy that you couldn’t name even if you’d heard it hundreds of times before, finally draws to a close. James’ temper looks to have reached a boiling point, and just as he rises from his seat to stomp over, Mr. Handsome whisks you away, grabbing your purse in one hand as you walk past the table, with one smug wink in the man's direction. 

It was the great escape, the prison break The light of freedom on my face

You can faintly hear James' angry voice screaming, ordering you to come back, but you could care less, wholly enchanted as you are with the beautiful man holding your hand. He throws open the door to his truck in the parking lot and helps you in, and in short order, you're peeling out of the parking lot with James trying and failing to run after you.

While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!"

The mood is light, sitting in the car after you both made your escape. The windows are down, and some country song blares lowly from the speakers. Mr. Handsome’s a chiaroscuro of color in the play of the moonlight on his skin. Every few moments, you see his eyes glance your way as if curious as to why you picked him. Finally, he pulls onto a hilltop overlooking the city and turns off the car. 

Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

In the silence of the summer night, any tension left in you finally drains away. It’s still a shock when he finally speaks, breaking the peace, “You know, it’s only polite to tip your getaway car driver.” 

You don’t even have to look to know there is a smug smile on his mouth. You also don’t need a mirror to know you’re flushed with the same heat he’d kept on your face all night thus far.

“Tips? Tips weren’t included in our agreement. I only remember agreeing to you driving the getaway car and showing James what he’d been missing all… night … long.” Each word dripping from your burgundy lips is punctuated by the slow glide of your fingers from his palms up his arms. Two can play the seductive game, after all. You can’t help the satisfaction on your face at seeing the blonde adonis sitting beside you, gazing back at you. 

“I’m Jake, Jake Seresin,” your handsome stranger, now Jake, introduces himself. You return the favor, gratified at the sight of his plush lips mouthing your name like he is relishing the shape of you on his tongue. The conversation, unsurprisingly, is as organic as it was when you were both whirling around on the dance floor in that bar a world away. You learn things about Jake that you’re sure he hasn’t told anyone else, just as you tell him things you haven’t told anyone too. When you finally glance at your phone, it’s well past midnight, and San Diego is aglow out of the windshield. 

“It’s past midnight,” you murmur, voice scratchy after hours of conversation and laughter.

“How was that for your first date in a long time?” Jake posits, eyes hooded, and long limbs languid as they stretch before him.

“Pretty good,” you respond, captivated again by the glow of his eyes in the moonlight. “The getaway driving was the highlight of the night after all. The only thing left is to go home and maybe get a kiss goodnight. You game?” There’s a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and an equally mischievous glint in Jake’s. 

“Well, darlin’,” he groans, “I can do you one better. I can kiss you now, sitting in this car, and taste that gorgeous mouth now and then again on your doorstep. What do you say?”

Your grin is perhaps over-eager as you haul yourself into his lap and finally, desperately kiss him like some part of you had been aching to since you left the bar. He takes the lead fairly soon, cradling you against his chest like you’re everything precious in his life. The kisses finally peter off into presses of lips against any exposed skin, gentle and sweet. You can feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand and soft puffs of breath against the top of your head,

A sinking feeling seeps into you as Jake deposits you carefully back in the passenger seat with a kiss on your forehead and helps you buckle your seatbelt up again. Things are quiet as he navigates you home, the silence punctuated only with long, heat-filled glances and the voice of the GPS taking you home. Too soon, the truck pulls up in front of your house.

“This is me,” you say, injecting false levity in your tone, sad to be leaving Jake when you’d just found him. Jake is the requisite gentleman who lopes around the front of his truck to open the door and help you out. You walk to the door hand in hand, clinging desperately to the feelings of comfort and affection Jake had created in you in one magical evening. 

“Jake,” you peer up at him, playing with his fingers, “before that goodnight kiss you promised me. What are the likelihoods you’d want to do something like this with me again?”

“Chances, pretty girl,” he’s grinning now, something softer and sweeter than the smirk he’d leveled at James hours ago, “are pretty damned good. But first, I’d need your phone number. It’s the only reliable way I know of to get in touch with you again, after all.”

You nod, digging your phone out of your purse, unlocking it, and handing it to him. Phone number saved, Jake slips the phone back into your bag. He then tips your face up, hands gently splayed across your jaw as he feathers the promised goodnight kiss across your lips, the apples of both cheeks, and your forehead. He then presses one final kiss against your lips, a kiss potent enough to make your legs weak, and then steps back, smiling from ear to ear as he watches you unlock your door with shaking hands.

“Text me, gorgeous girl!” 

Those are the last words you hear as you step into your dark house and lock the door behind you.  A ridiculous dopy, giddy grin dances across your lips at the thought of Jake Seresin wanting to see you again. They always say, "No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car," but as you fall asleep in your bed that night with a text zipping through the night air to him, you know that Jake Seresin will be different. You have this sneaking suspicion that he thinks the same of you.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[sweet-villain]

Hello sweetheart, could you write something angsty for me but with a happy ending. I need to have my heart broken but put back together.

Torn ~ J.Q

Summary: Your best friend rejects you, it hurts but things turn around when he hears your going on a date with another man.

Tags : : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead @witchy-munson

My Master List is in This Area

Angst to fluff

How could you not be in love with your best friend? He made you laugh. He made you smile. He made your heart flutter when he looked at you with those brown chocolate eyes of his. He'd always stand next to you or sit by you when he had the chance. Everyone told you that he's into you.

Yet, you've been to his apartment and spilled to him how you felt about him. But, here you were driving back home with tears in your eyes as you gripped the steering wheel. Your vision blurred with tears. You felt like he ripped your heart into pieces and threw it across the ocean.

" I'm in love with you" you shyly tell him. Joe's breath hitches and he averts his gaze looking anywhere else but at you.

" Oh...I don't know what to say.." he says, " Y/N..I love you too, but not in the way you do" Joe met your teary eyes as he played with one of his rings. " I'm so sorry" you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

" But explain to me why you'd always choose to sit next to me, flirt with me and you always have your hand on my thigh?" You asked.Your voice cracked as tears spilled down your cheeks.

" I do it with everyone, flirt I mean... I'm sorry" you looked away rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

" I-I get it. It's fine...Uh.. I should g-go" you got up and putting on your coat as Joe watched with an apologetic look on his face.

The silence driving home was thick, unwanted and cruel. The only sounds heard was sobs coming out of your mouth. You heart ripped in two.

Was it you? Is something wrong with you? Were you not pretty enough? Were you not enough? Why didn't Joe feel the same? The signs seem to be there.

You parked your car in front of your apartment heading inside. You brushed past people shooting you worried looks along the way seeing the tears flowing down your cheeks.

The apartment felt cold and distant as you entered it, shrugging off your coat and shoes and not bothering to hang them as you rushed into your bedroom, falling into bed. Rejection hurt you this time around. Why? Because it was Joe, Joe has been your best friend for years. His parents loved you. Wesley loved you and his friends did too.

This one hurt because this one, you lost your best friend to tell him him how you felt. You would never be able to see Joe's face again, it hurts too much.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You entered the bar with a small smile on your face as the guy you were seeing trails behind you with his hand on the small of your back. It's been close to a year since the last time you spoke to Joe, saw him or even Wesley told you about how he's been doing.

Tonight you happened to be in a small bar seeing some friends when your eyes spotted him as he had a martini in his hands while talking with someone.

You avert your eyes as you focused on one of your friends as they threw their hands up and embracing you in their warmth.

" It's so good to see you" they said, moving back to look at you. " My, my. You are glowing. I haven't seen you this pretty" they said. You rolled your eyes as you nudged them with your hip causing them to laugh. The laugh had caught the attention of Joe who's eyes spot you right away.

His mouth a jar as his eyes widen taking you in. He's watching the way you embrace each of your friend, the smile on your face and the way you joke with them. A pang of hurt fills him as he remembers the last time he spoke to you. He let you walk out that door and out of his life.

He clenched the glass of his martini as his eyes find the man you came along with. Who was he? He growled underneath his breath spotting the man bring you close to him and kiss your cheek. Wesley who's sitting by Joe's side notices the way Joe demeanor changes in a blink of an eye. He follows Joe's line of visions and his face turns into a frown.

" Are you going to say something to her?" Joe hadn't noticed that Wesley had even spoken to him until he felt a nudge at his side. " What?" he asked. Wesley motions with his head towards you.

" Are you going to say something to her?" he asks again. This time Joe hesitates as he shakes his head. " No, I don't think that's a good idea."

Wesley hums as he stands up with his glass. He wasn't about to sit there and not miss a chance to say hello to you. He used to be your friend too.

" Where are you going?' Joe asks.

" Say hi to a friend" he says as he makes his way towards your table. To Joe's surprise, you turn your head to meet Wesley's gaze and a smile appear on your face when you see it's him.

Joe feels the green eyed monster begging to come out when he watches your interaction with Wesley wishing it was him. Your eyes move over to the table Joe was sitting at and immediately his eyes drop to his glass hoping you didn't catch him staring at you.

When you look away from Joe and listen to what Wesley was saying, he looked back up and watched you. He knew it was rude to stare but something about you tonight is different.

" You look happy" Wesley says to you. You shrugged with a small nod, nursing your drink in your hand.

" It's been better" you nodded again. Wesley sighs, " I didn't mean for us to lose touch like that. It's just I thought it would be hard having me around knowing Joe was around me"

" I understand" Wesley looks back at Joe.

" We still talk about you" he says, surprising you. You thought after you told Joe how you felt that he would forget about you and erase you from his memory.

" That's nice" he chuckled, he knows you really well.

" Look, I know you Y/N. I can see the look in your eyes that your begging to talk to him. He misses you and he knows letting you walk out his door was the biggest mistake of his life."

" I think mine was having him enter my life" Wesley frowned as he sighs again telling you he's going back. You nod wishing him to have a good rest of his night.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You stood by the trailing as you look up at the night sky. You needed some fresh air after a few drinks, the conversation with Wesley and having Joe be in the same bar as you.

" You look good" you heard that familiar voice that caused your eyes to close and gripped the railing tighter.

" Thank you" you responded not turning around. If you did, you might well up in tears.

Joe took out a cigarette from behind his ear like he usually does have one from time to time. He cups his other hand over it as he lights it.

" Do you want one?" he asks, fishing out another one from his pack and offering it to you. Without looking at him, you shake your head. He retrieves it back into the pack as he puts it back into his pocket along with his lighter.

There is silence between the two of you.

" Who's the guy?" there was that million dollar question that's been bugging at his heart not knowing who he was. You lowly chuckled as you turned your head for the first time to look at him. Joe swore he felt his heart flutter and his mind run back as he looked at you.

You were beyond beautiful.

" Just someone" you tell him, " not really your business Quinn."

" Sorry" he mumbles. Your eyebrow raised as you questioned him, " for what?" you asked.

His brown chocolate eyes turned to look at your once more. They are filled with sorrow. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him, breathe in your scent to see if it's the same, to have you smile at him and to have your arms around him.

He sighs as he rubs a hand down his face," For letting you walk out that door that day."

You chuckled, " You didn't feel the same way and I wouldn't blame you. I mean, who would want me? Not even my best friend wanted me."

Joe faced you as he stomped his cigarette on the ground. His shirt rubbed against your arm and the hint of cigarettes and mint hit your nose. Your heart clenched having him this close.

" I was stupid back then to let you slip through my fingers. I was scared.."

" Scared of what Joe?" you turned to face him, inches away.

" Scared of giving you my heart knowing you had it all along all those years since we were teenagers. Scared to commit to you, scared to share you with the world as mine."

" I was scared too but that didn't stop me from telling you how I felt" He nodded.

" You were always the brave one" a small smile appears on your face as you shrug. His index finger goes under your chin raising your head to look up at him. His breath fans over your face, " Are you dating that guy?" he motions his head towards the entrance of the bar.

" No, just been-" Joe cuts you off as his lips brushed against yours. Your breath hitches making you gasp feeling his lips softly press against yours. Your heart race having him this close.

" Joe" you muttered through the kiss as he placed his lips softly back on yours. When you returned his kiss, his hands fell to you hips bringing you flush against his chest. His head tilted to the side as his tongue licked your bottom lip asking for permission.

You let him in going to battle with his tongue, he wins as he explores every inch of your mouth. Your hand is balled up in a fist of his shirt, the other going into his curls earning a groan from him as he kisses you.

You pull away from his lips, lips hovering over his own.

"Joe" your eyes lock with his as his eyes look at yours with hope.

" Let's start over" he whispers against your lips. " Please" he adds.

You search his face to see if he's serious about this. You weren't about to have him break your heart again and when you spot no lies in his eyes or face.

" You got once chance, Quinn" his lips curve up in a smile as he leans in pecking your lips.

"I am not letting you slip away from me ever again" he nuzzles his nose against yours.

" Is that a promise?" he raises his pinky up your line of vision.

" Pinky promise" you laugh, hooking your pinky around his as he laughs against your lips too, pecking them.

[ronearoundblindly]

So Ari used to comfort us when you BF had left. So when our ex bf is into and we accidently run into them saw the bar or gas station and were in qris car and tty the whole duck down thing or hiding out of site thing how does Ari react and say we see him another time days later at the bar with Ari within king he had have left so our guard was down but nope what does Ari do? We all know he's territorial as hell with us especially with how we were hurt the first time

Ah yes, Philip. Warnings for language and no* editing. WC 1.8k (which is apparently my magic number...)

Run In, a Bedrock and Blueprints drabble long drabble tale

Not that long after you insist Ari moves in, you two are out getting groceries at the local supermarket. You normally divide the list in chunks by area of the store, so you're rounding a tall-shelved aisle when WHAM! It's Philip, your ex and the reason you know Ari, right in your face.

Maybe three sentences total are spoken. Your stomach is so knotted up in shock and a kind of hot fear that you're not entirely sure what you say, but Phil's face is placid enough. The words must cause no offense because he waves and walks away without incident.

You're sweating bullets, glancing over your shoulder every ten feet down the refrigerated section. You don't need the bag of frozen french fries, but sticking your head in the cold storage to carefully check the label is a welcome reprieve.

Ari meets you at the self-check-out as planned, a soft smile tucking the seam of his bread together when he's caught thumbing through the candy. The man likes snacks, sweet or savory; he just can't help it.

"Grabbed some extra to make your favorite tonight. You'll have plenty for lunch tomorrow, too," he adds casually, starting to scan all the gathered things. "We didn't need more leftover containers, did we? Can't remember if we ever found enough lids for the red ones."

Ari doesn't notice you constantly scanning the area behind you.

"Hey," he interrupts your panicking brain, "you got the coupons for this?"

"Yeah," you bluster, quickly digging in your purse for the little stack of papers. "Yeah, here."

You think it's over and start to breathe easier in the open air outside, loading the bags into the truck bed and sliding onto the leather seat.

Ari turns on the car and frowns. "Better fill up on gas while we're out."

"Okay," you chirp absently. Any distance from the store is still distance, or so you think until you see Philip right there at the next pump.

You flatten yourself so fast onto that seat that it squeaks and you bounce slightly. Ari's already gotten out of the car, and if he's facing the tank, then he's also facing away from Philip. He might not notice a thing.

But if he's facing the pump...

"Levinson?!"

Oh, shit, Ari, don't be stupid. Don't be stupid. Don't mention me. Please.

Your cheek is suctioned to the leather you're so squished down.

Ari must have walked over to Philip because all you hear are deep, muffled voices and three words:

"Saw her..."

"...inside?"

The mumbling changes in pitch and volume a few more times, a much longer conversation than you had with Philip minutes ago, but after a bit, the pump catches full, and you hear Ari close the cap.

He opens the driver's side door but keeps looking past the hood.

"See ya around," Ari calls back.

"Hope so, Levs," comes the far-off reply.

Ari jumps in and starts the truck, looking both ways like he's driving completely normal, alone, like there isn't a crazy woman pancaked on his seat. After pulling out of the parking lot, he sighs.

"I assume you were gonna tell me you saw him eventually."

Gently raising yourself upright, you rub at your arm.

"He surprised me--"

"--yeah," Ari scoffs, "me, too."

"--and I...I didn't know what to say."

He stays quiet, artfully navigating familiar streets and thinking, but his expression is inscrutable.

"You think I knew what to say? Kid, he abandoned you. He never even apologized, and now I had to see him as your boyfriend and be blindsided that you'd already talked?!"

"We didn't talk, Ari. I said maybe two things to him. Pleasantries. I can't even remember because he just--" you slap your hands together "--was there."

Ari huffs, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel with white knuckles. "I know," he whispers. "I get it. I'm sure it's worse for you than for me, but... I want to throttle the guy."

"He was your friend, too, Ar--"

"You were a better friend than Phil ever was," he bursts. "Ya know, after the first time he brought you out, we thought you were out of his league. Like you were too nice and quiet and put together. Then you hung out a few more times, and José finally made a joke that you were too cool for him. Philip was a loser compared to you. All of us thought you were too good for him full stop."

Ari drops one hand from the wheel and searches for yours, weaving your fingers together. "That was before he even left...the first time."

You're stunned.

"Then Phil was gone and so were you," he continues, squeezing your hand, "but we only missed you." Ari shrugs. "Somebody had to drive you back to the bar so we could hang out."

"And you drew the short straw," you mutter.

"There were no straws. I volunteered."

All this time, you thought that Ari, José, and Dimitri used to tolerate you out of loyalty to Philip. You thought maybe Philip had told them to watch out for you while he was deployed, and you knew that changed eventually. You couldn't pinpoint the shift though; there was no moment where one or more of them said "you're our friend now, not Phil's girl," but you did know they at least pitied you when Philip left for good. After all, they were mourning the loss of their friend, too, right?

It took years to feel like Ari wasn't just driving you around out of obligation--partly because he always grumbled about being your 'chauffeur'--but here he is telling you they'd all have chosen you over Philip, possibly even if Philip never left but simply moved on from you. The comfort of that thought radiates through you like the warmth from Ari's hand in yours.

Apart from the odd remark or two, Philip is forgotten again after that night. You have so much history beyond him and a future without him.

Two and a half weeks later, of course, you're not expecting to see Philip sidle up to your table with the boys at the bar--the bar, the original haunt that you inherited in the divorce essentially--and José and Dimitri are duly surprised as well.

"Where the hell you been, brother?"

"They ain't got phones out there?"

Philip is bashful, remorseful in a way that seems more like him before his first deployment, and it is genuinely nice to see. You keep silent anyway, unable to think of something overtly nice or generic to say.

Ari's arm is around your shoulders as it usually is in this booth, but then his hand squeezes your shoulder, and he leans unnecessarily close to your ear.

"Can you scoot to let me out, baby," he asks, voice low and deep. "I'll get us another round."

Before you can move, Ari plants a quick kiss on your neck, knowing full well that his beard tickles right there, and makes you shiver.

After he's standing, Phil's face is questioning, eyes wide, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, Ari taps his shoulder.

He ticks his head toward Patrick behind the bar. "Need a beer, buddy? I'm buying."

Phil snorts and follows.

"I'll be damned. Ari Levinson offering to pay for a drink? You sure changed."

"It's been a long eight and a half years," Ari groans, flagging down Patrick and ordering.

It takes more time for the drinks to arrive than it takes Phil to start in, glancing conspicuously over at the booth.

"What'd you do, Ari? Jump right into my place? Did my plane even touchdown before you went for her?"

"I went to tell her you left. There's a difference."

"Never thought of you as a sloppy seconds guy. Did your dick happen to fall in--"

"Finish that fucking sentence if you'd like to be toothless," Ari growls, making a point to plaster a smile on his face since you can likely see them in profile from here.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't want to be a rebound."

"No, Phil, what you should want to be is a man, but instead, you were a piece of shit." Ari doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it took almost the entirety of those eight and a half years to thoroughly move on from the people Phil left behind, but he's still pissed.

"Hell, I was a piece of shit, too, for years, but I stayed when I could. I was also a piece of shit who noticed that that girl is worth way more than yours--or my--ego, so if you so much as blink in a way that makes her uncomfortable--" he throws a glance to the exit "--I will hand you your ass outside and make you eat dirt. We clear?"

"Levs, why are you being like this? Man, you never cared about chicks this much."

"You wanna know what changed me," Ari hisses, pointing over at the booth, uncaring if any of you are watching, fake smile long gone. "That changed me. She changed me. She's the type of woman worth changing for."

Patrick drops off the drinks and slides the money off the counter, ignoring any tension between the two men.

"I did change," Philip mumbles, "and she never understood--"

"You did not fucking try," Ari nearly spits in rage but pets a hand down his beard again for composure. He sucks on his teeth, pondering what to say next. "Look, I knew you for a long time, and we were the same. We didn't care. We didn't give a fuck about putting in the effort. And because we didn't give a fuck, no one should have given a fuck about us. She did, and you walked away from that. You are an asshole. You are not welcome here. She is. She always will be.

"Do you understand that?" Ari looks Phil dead in the eyes and holds that gaze with militant ferocity.

"Yeah, man."

Ari relaxes, softening his look and casually clinking his beer bottle to Philip's. "Good. Then get the fuck out of this bar," he says flatly.

Ari heads back to the booth alone, winking as he hands you your drink and motions to scoot back in beside you. Phil hangs around at the bartop just long enough to guzzle his beer and leaves.

José is the first to ask, "what happened there?"

"You know Phil." Ari takes a long pull from his bottle and then stretches back to have his arm over you. "He realized he was in the wrong place. Shame he couldn't stick around."

"Ah, well," Dimitri muses, "we're better off without him."

"Yeah," you say softly, the first word out of your mouth since Phil showed up.

Ari leans over to kiss your temple, his thumb running back and forth across your shoulder. He straightens and picks his beer back up.

"So we're thinking of having a housewarming party. You guys in?"

I don't see Ari as a big spectacle guy, but I do think he'd put his fucking foot down when it came to shit-talking the kid. Honestly, I imagine if Philip showed up before you and Ari got together, Ari would still have been that protective simply because you mean a lot to him. However, he's hyper-aware of not embarrassing you, so this is as confrontational as I can picture him. Still quite *swoon* if I do say so myself, but he's still subtle.

Thank you for reading! Hope you are enjoying this story so far.

[Bedrock and Blueprints Masterlist; Main Masterlist]

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Well, I think I made a mistake by putting Jordan Brookes first in the running order of my (first) Edinburgh Fringe experience. I thought it would be cool. Start the Fringe with the only person who has ever held the title of Edinburgh Fringe Festival Champion (they've changed the name of the Perrier so often, I'm just going to call it Champion as a name that's standard across eras) for more than a year. That's fun. And I very much like all his NextUp shows (I think there are four and I recommend all of them, but especially Bleed and Body of Work, both of which are also on YouTube for free), so it's a safe bet.

Unfortunately, he has set the bar way too high. I came away thinking... is there any chance all Edinburgh shows are that much better if you see them in person than on a recording? And I'm sure that helps, but that can't be the main reason why tonight was so good. I'm pretty sure tonight was amazing because Jordan Brookes has written an incredible show that no one else can live up to.

I mean, it does help that this was a rare case of me seeing a show in person. I think I might get clowning now! This wasn't a clown show or anything - I don't think, certainly more laughs came from things he said than things he did - but he did a lot of throwing his body all over the place in ways that made me laugh tonight, and that I know would not make me laugh on a recording. I've said for ages that I know my inability to "get" clowning may just be down to me watching most comedy on recordings, maybe it's only funny in the room. But to be honest, when I said that, I didn't really believe it. I really thought it was just a weird thing I don't understand. However, it turns out that people doing absurd things with their bodies is actually very funny, if they're right in front of you. Who knew? (Lots of people knew.)

Oh I've been here one evening and have already been able to play comedian spotting! I am very, very bad at recognizing faces, so I'm not going to be great at that game throughout the week. But in his show, at one point Jordan Brookes was reading a list of made-up names, and he said "Edward Hare", and I thought, "Isn't Eddy Hare one of the guys in Crizards?" Later on some people came out to do background dancing during the show, and it was really funny, but I kept being distracted by thinking "Is the guy on the right that guy from Crizards, or do I just think that because I heard his name earlier?" At the end of the show, the backup dancers were outside giving out flyers to their own shows, and the guy I recognized gave me one that confirmed he was Eddy Hare from Crizards, so score one against my face blindness there.

More significantly, throughout the show, I kept seeing this one guy in the audience and thinking "Is that Jin Hao Li or am I a racist?" I'm pleased to say that after the show, I saw a woman go up to him, I heard her call him "Jin" and tell him she was a fan of his comedy. Score two points against my face blindness in one night! I've seen one Fringe show ever, but I've already watched one comedy show while sharing the audience with another comedian - one I like enough to have booked his show later in the week. That's what festivals are for (according to my previous experience of festivals, which are folk music festivals where I'll frequently see a show with one musician on stage and one in the audience, then at the next show the second musician will be on stage and the first in the audience).

Seriously though, Brookes was amazing. We walked by him on the way out, the guy in front of me told him "That was the best show I've ever seen at the Fringe." The guy who said that had the look of someone who's probably seen a lot of shows at the Edinburgh Fringe before. And I thought... it's the best show I've ever seen at the Fringe too! I know I've only seen one, but I feel like that would be true even if I'd been coming for years! It's too high a bar!

Anyway I then went for a walk through the Royal Mile and surrounding area at night, and I don't know nearly enough words to describe how incredible that was.

I spent so much time in the run-up to this trip reminding myself that not everything will be as cool as it looks on the internet, real life is mundane everywhere. To try to lower my expectations so I wouldn't be disappointed. What I hadn't prepared for was the possibility that it really would be this beautiful.

[haunted-plush]

HI CRITTER!! i recently discovered u from ur amazing towqueen fic (LITFL) so i was wondering if u had any hcs for them, maybe off a little list i had. it would just be great to know what u think since ur hcs ive already seen are AMAZING!! :3

(sorry its long, and u ofc don’t have to answer all!!)

1. could you ever see them on being a more of a switch-ish couple?

2. where do u think they’d prefer their dates to be? and would they prefer public areas or more private, quiet sceneries?

3. u kinda answered this before, but how do u think each of them would cope with long-distance?

4. who do you see being more attached and attention-needy? and how would they call out for attention?

AAAAAAAAA SORRY I DIDNT ANSWER THIS RIGHT AWAY!!! Whenever I see the notification for an ask and it goes away I forget about it :,]

1. I've touched on this in another ask but yeah they could deviate from their typical dynamic if they were feeling something different, sometimes Mater likes stuff that makes him feel like he's in danger like kidnapping roleplays and knifeplay. I read a fic once where Lightning bent Mater over the hood of a car while he was working on it and fucked him like that and I could see them going for something like that every once in a while

2. It depends on where they are for what their dates tend to be, like if they're in Radiator Springs they'll go stargazing or go get fast food or see a drive in movie, or if they're in LA they'll go to a more fancy restaurant or maybe a club or a bar, they also just like hanging out at each other's homes. Whenever they're in LA Lightning likes to kind of parade Mater around like "ooo look at me with my handsome man over here" and Mater likes it too of course but what he really likes is to drive them wayyyy out in his truck with a blanket and maybe a few cold ones to look at the stars

3. They're a long distance couple a lot of the time so they're both kinda used to it but it still gets pretty rough. I mentioned the phone calls but they'll also just call and text for non horny reasons just sending updates throughout the day. Mater, of course, comes to all of his races [I feel like Cars 2 trying to say he didn't was total bs] whenever he can so it's not like they're always apart. They also visit a lot in the off season, Lightning mostly coming to rs but Mater sometimes making the trip to LA

4. Lightning. Lightning for sure. His ass gets straight up bitchy and mean when he goes too long without getting what he wants, and seeing Mater [and his other friends of course] become part of this eventually. If he or Mater have a busy schedule and he has to wait a long time for a phone call he will be in a BAD mood but that'll melt away when they can both finally talk. He's always the one that reaches out for whatever reason also, if he's just lonley or horny or had a bad day he'll shoot a text or try to call, but like I've mentioned when Mater starts to miss Lightning he keeps it to himself since he doesn't like being a bother. Whenever Lightning calls [which is often] he makes sure to ask about his eating habits and such to make sure he's taking care of himself

TYSM FOR THE ASK ANON BTW!!! AGAIN SORRY I DIDNT GET TO IT FOR SO LONG HHH