#hashtag i love angst

[reebmiester]

"Bruce is terrible at communicating to his kids that they are family instead of a job, that he's their father and not their boss, and that he views them as his children, not just his wards-" BITCH where do you think he LEARNED that from

[cherubytes]

one-sided v4v where the v2 fights are just a way to get attention but v1 doesn't care at all

[ackee]

also everyone whos like "erm dont do love triangles just make them get in a poly relationship 🙄" is so boring. like i thought this was the drama loving website

[yuri-the-boxfox]

Line artless art style test

"but why did you make it so angsty!!?-"

"because it's fun :D"

[nosygay]

favourite thing about traumatic flashbacks is the entire concept of it is so stupid that on top of everything I start thinking about how bizarre it is and that would make me derealize the fuck out of this world on its own like I know every annoying mechanism exists for a reason but does it reallyyyyy

[fuzzyfeltmemories]

good...night...

[dominimoonbeam]

The Truth In Your Skin - 4

The Tattoo Shop AU! If you want to read it from the beginning it’s on ao3. The fourth chapter is below. The whole fic is heavy angst and hurt/comfort with some serious past domestic violence issues (Quinn. It’s Quinn. It’s always Quinn.)

Darlin/David. Sweetheart/Milo. Asher/?

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, learning to trust, scars, found family, past domestic violence, trauma, slow burn, tattoos, piercings

The Truth In Your Skin - 4

Darlin felt better than they had in a year. Longer even. It felt good to work, to be back in a shop surrounded by the hum of machines and music. The crew wasn’t bad, and no one touched their station.

No one asked them any questions they didn’t want to answer, either. They could have looked them up, could have found out on their own, but Darlin didn’t think they had. David knew what city they’d lived in before—where they’d worked. Would it be hard to find records of what had happened? Maybe. It wasn’t exactly newsworthy when someone like them got the shit kicked out of them, let alone by their partner. Ugly but not surprising. Right? That was what they’d been told. What did they expect?

They flicked their tongue against the inside of their lip, looking for the metal that wasn’t there.

Whether the others knew or not, they didn’t ask. Not even the guy that did the piercings, Milo. He’d taken one long look at Darlin’s lip scar before meeting their gaze again that first day and then pretended he didn’t know how that happened.

Darlin was grateful. The more time that passed, things settled into a new normal. It actually felt like they could move forward. They’d gone to that holiday party and it was nice.

Their station was across from David’s near the back of the main room. They caught him watching them work sometimes. Fair. It was his shop, after all. He’d have to make sure they weren’t doing a shit job.

Asher had the spot near the door. He was loud but never in a bad way. He only stopped talking when someone else did. His clients seemed to get a whole experience out of sitting in his chair, most loath to leave even when the work was done. And when his chair was empty, he’d come over and start talking up Darlin’s or David’s clients.

Through the archway, there were two more stations. Milo did the piercings and Sweetheart specialized in new school tattoos. They were still pretending not to be a couple.

The day was slow and well past lunch.

Asher flopped down in Darlin’s chair and stretched out until his tank top hiked up his stomach. “You busy?” he asked, hands under his mess of hair.

Darlin raised an eyebrow. They’d just cleaned their station. He knew it, because he had been in the same room all day. “Super busy,” they lied. They didn’t have anyone else lined up today. He knew that too because he handled the schedules in the mornings.

Asher had two thin rings in the side of his eyebrow, a bridge between his eyes, a stud under his bottom lip and another in his tongue. Somehow, he still pouted like a puppy. “I’m bored. Tattoo me?”

David snorted in the space across from them. He had a client laid out on their chest, shirt off and arms pillowed under their cheek. Their headphones were so loud they could almost hear the music over the beat of the shop speakers.

Darlin blinked at Asher. “Are you serious?”

Asher lit up. “Yeah!” He sat up and pulled his shirt off. He tossed it vaguely in the direction of his own chair, landing on the floor in the middle of the room instead. “Front or back?” He started searching himself for a spot.

Darlin pressed back a smile. “What do you want?”

Asher was still considering real estate. “Doesn’t matter. Anything that’s yours.”

Darlin might have doubted that and pressed for him to make a choice but looking at the assortment of random work on his body, they realized he meant it. He was a collector. They shrugged and started setting up.

“You don’t have to,” David reminded in a grumble.

Darlin nodded but put on the black gloves. “You sure you can sit still?” they asked Asher.

Asher laughed and stretched one arm up, hooking it under his head and offering them a patch of untattooed skin just under his ribs.

“Want to pick a color?” Darlin asked.

Asher settled in, his new position allowing him to watch David. “Nope. You pick.”

Darlin huffed but got to work, already forming an idea.

Asher didn’t squirm at all when the needle finally hit skin. He didn’t even miss a beat in conversation with David. Milo walked a client out and then came over to see what was going on. He turned his head to get a better look at the developing tattoo just as Darlin swiped away inky and blood. Milo smiled when he saw the round little bird in black lines that Darlin was currently adding a splash of neon yellow to. It would come out looking like watercolor stroked over a sketch.

The bell on the front door in the lobby chimed. “Got it,” Milo said, nodding and stepping back. He slid his hands into his pockets and walked to the reception.

“Almost done,” Darlin said.

Asher hadn’t looked yet. “You’re coming out with us after work, right?”

The shop was closed Sundays and Mondays and Asher liked to get everyone together on Saturday nights after locking up. Darlin had said no all the times before that holiday party and they’d bounced back and forth in their head since about what to do the next time. Go or don’t go? “Yeah. Sure.”

Asher beamed.

Darlin was just finishing up when the voices from the front room carried in, Milo leading a couple of people back with him. They were talking about a piercing. One of the two was taking the plunge and getting another one on impulse.

Darlin’s heart beat faster but they weren’t sure why at first—not until one of those voices pitched over the other to shout, “Holy shit! I remember you! From—”

Darlin had just put the needle down when the words struck them. The woman was talking to them. She remembered them. Her steps sounded impossibly loud as she came closer.

“Misfit!” she shouted the name she remembered.

Darlin winced. That wasn’t their name. It was just how he’d introduced them to people and it had stuck. “You’re not a Darlin. Anyone can see that.”

“Hell, I haven’t seen you in years!” She leaned against the back of the chair Asher was in.

Darlin’s brain felt like it was on overload, sounds and colors and light all coming in too fast and too hard.

“How have you been? What are you doing out here? Is Quinn here?” His name sounded like the thud of their forehead against the floor, a headache slicing through their temple. The woman looked around like he might be there in the shop, her smile huge and her teeth bright. Quinn’s teeth had been bright too, slick with red.

Darlin’s chest hurt and they fought the impulse to look around too, for one blinding second terrified that he might be there.

 -

 David had finished up with his client and started cleaning up his space. He had been sneaking peeks at Darlin’s work on Asher, not quite ready to process the pang of jealousy he felt. Maybe he just really wanted a tattoo from them too?

And then Milo returned with a couple of clients and everything changed. All of the ease that had built in Darlin vanished in a flash, their body went tight and their chin dropped to their chest. David was close enough and at an angle to see the way their eyes blanked out, like they’d fucking left their body.

“Back up,” Asher said, voice suddenly far from the light, humorous notes that usually filled the shop. He had sat up in his seat, physically putting himself between Darlin and the stranger.

The stranger jumped back, surprised. Offense warred with anger on her expression, gaze flicking between Asher and Darlin and then back to her friend standing with Milo.

Milo was quick to smooth things over, herding the two clients toward his station in the other room.

The woman went but spoke louder to make up for the distance.

“What the fuck is their problem? Do you think they broke up? It would explain what they’re doing here, but why be so dramatic about it?”

“Did you see their lip though? You don’t think Quinn did that do you?”

“No way. He’s so fucking hot. Why was he even with them? They probably just broke up.”

“Riley said Quinn was in jail…”

“Oh my god!”

Asher flicked his gaze between David and Darlin, asking without words what to do. Darlin was shaking, breaths tight like they were trying not to hyperventilate by taking in as little air as possible. They pushed themselves through the motions of putting away their equipment and taking out the gel and plastic wrap to finish Asher’s tattoo. Both men finally snapped, surging forward. Asher took the antibiotic gel and plastic wrap out of their hands and David gently caught their elbow, pulling them to their feet.

“I’ll clean up and close the shop when they’re done,” Asher said.

David steered Darlin toward the back door, grabbing their jackets off the wall on the way. They didn’t fight him at all and that was somehow just as worrying as the look on their face had been. He had never put hands on Darlin before, not in all the weeks they’d been working there. Darlin wasn’t touchy and he hadn’t missed how they always seemed to keep themselves out of arms reach if possible.

They almost tripped over their own boots when he guided them through the heavy door and out onto the sidewalk along the back of the building. He caught their side to keep them up and they jerked at that contact, like they were injured. It seemed to jar them back to life though, their breath deeper and their gaze flicking around the snow dusted parking lot. “Fuck,” they exhaled.

David handed them their jacket.

They looked at it, wincing before nodding and taking it. “I’ll come back for my shit on Tuesday…” They barely got the words out, voice raw.

“What?” David hadn’t known what to expect from them, but this was definitely not on his list.

Darlin pulled their jacket on, backpedaling a wobbly step away from him. Their head was still down, chin to their chest and hair in their face.

“You’re not fired,” David ground out, pulling his jacket on too but not taking his eyes off them in case their legs gave out. “You looked like you were about to have a panic attack.”

“Sorry,” Darlin muttered, swallowing hard.

David shook his head. He didn’t want an apology. They hadn’t done anything wrong. “You’re okay.”

They looked up at him, surprise so clear across their face. They straightened slowly, seeming to finally fully remember themselves again. “I’m sorry about that… I don’t know why I… It was unprofessional and—”

“Fuck that. And fuck them.”

Darlin blinked, shoulders easing down.

“You’re great at your art and you’re easy to work with. I’d have to be an idiot to fire you even if you’d told them where to shove their questions. You don’t owe them shit and you don’t owe us anything more than exactly what you give.”

Darlin stared, breath finally coming out in a long, easy exhale.

“You’re okay,” he said again. He wanted them to believe it, because fuck he wanted to make it true.

Darlin nodded slowly, like they were trying to.

They stood there together for a while on the cold sidewalk before David finally huffed a thin laugh. “You got me out of closing.”

Darlin smirked. “You’re welcome.”

David flicked his lip ring thoughtfully before asking. “Do you want to come up? We’ve got beer and we can order pizza when the rest of them are off.”

Darlin watched him, their gaze cutting toward the entrance to the apartments that were over the shops.

He’d invited them every weekend to whatever they were doing but Darlin had never taken this long to consider it. He hoped they didn’t think they were obligated. He’d meant it when he said they didn’t owe him anything but the good work they did.

Darlin nodded, hands in their pockets. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

David didn’t make a big deal of it, just nodded and led the way to the door. He’d text Asher when they were upstairs to let him know they were staying in tonight—so he could tell Milo and Sweetheart too.

 -

 It was the longest piercing of Milo’s life.

They were on their phones, looking up Darlin and this guy, Quinn. They exchanged an endless stream of information as they gathered it, pausing on occasion to turn big eyes to him and ask if he knew.

He hadn’t.

He had seen that scar on their lip and known something, but he hadn’t looked them up. None of them had. It wasn’t something they’d discussed or anything, it just hadn’t seemed right. If Darlin wanted to tell them what had happened, maybe they would someday.

But now he knew.

The details were spotty, a domestic violence charge. And then they’d talked to a friend of a friend who had more information…and photos. They groaned at the images and Milo tried not to see them. “They’re saying he actually pulled the ring out! Oh my god, look at those stitches! Why is their face swollen like that?”

Milo saw the photo. He didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to. Their face was swollen like that because someone had beat the shit out of them. There were stitches in their hairline too, and their cheek where another scar now lived.

If he hadn’t already done the piercing by that point, he would have kicked them out. He shouldn’t have brought them back at all after the way Darlin had looked. Was it a betrayal?

“I just can’t believe it. There are always two sides to a story. It’s not like Misfit is a sweetheart. It was probably complicated. Quinn was just so much fun. There’s no way.” His hands shook. He felt Sweetheart watching the whole time from their station across from him. They hadn’t said a word—hadn’t moved—but he felt their eyes on him all the time. It was grounding and comforting, but at the same time added to the mounting unrest.

He was relieved when he walked them back to the lobby and Darlin was gone. Asher was cleaning up their station—uncharacteristically quiet. Had he heard everything? How could he not?

Milo took payment and tip in a haze. He didn’t care if they underpaid. He didn’t care if they paid at all. He wanted them out.

As soon as the door closed, he rounded the counter and threw the lock, slapping the light switch for the front of the shop.

“Babe?” Asher asked, voice low with worry. “You okay?”

Milo wanted to laugh. Of course, he was okay. He wasn’t the one who had someone put them in the hospital. He dragged his hands through his hair and used one of the ties on his wrist to knot it. He nodded, jaw tight.

Asher looked like he understood, nodding back. “David took them outside. We’ll close up.” Asher’s phone plinged in his pocket and he reached down and pulled it out. He was still shirtless, his side shiny where he’d slicked it with gel and stretched plastic wrap over it. His expression lightened with surprised. “They’re upstairs.”

“What?”

“We’re doing beers and pizza at our place. Darlin’s hanging out too.”

Milo’s stomach twisted, thinking of that photo and the flood of gossip mixed with news.

“Want me to say you can’t come? I can make up a reason—” Asher offered.

“No,” Milo said just as quickly, shaking his head. “Fuck no.” He’d been hoping they could get Darlin out of their shell and hanging out with them. Did knowing change that? Absolutely not. And if he bailed, they might think it was with intent. He was already worried he’d crossed some line by working on that person.

He walked through the quiet studio, back to the room with his station. Sweetheart was still standing there, tattooed arms folded tightly against their chest and eyes on him—always on him. That stare was softer now, as soft as Sweetheart could get anyway. “Milo…”

He set his jaw and shook his head. He was fine. He had no right not to be fine. Nothing had fucking happened to him. He went to his station to clean up but then their hand was on his arm. He stopped.

“You’re not him,” they said, a whisper just between them.

Milo cringed. Who did they mean? The newly mentioned Quinn? Or his dad? Because right now he really wanted to hit someone. His hands were curled so tightly that his knuckles ached.

Their fingers hooked around the back of his neck, pulling until his head met theirs. He felt their eyes on him, intense as ever. “Wanting to protect people is different than wanting to hurt people.”

He wasn’t sure right then. He really wanted to hurt someone. Someone he’d never even met. He closed his eyes but it only made that picture of Darlin all fucked up and dazed from that stranger’s phone clearer in his memory.

Sweetheart scratched the back of his neck gently, trying to distract him. “Stop it.”

He dragged a breath and let it out, nodding. Whatever that was, what he’d heard them talking about, that was in the past. There was nothing to do about it now but keep an eye out for Darlin in the future. He winced again. How much of that shit had they overheard? Would they close off even more now that the rest of them knew something about their past? No. They’d finally agreed to hang out with the group tonight.

That was good. That was really good.

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he said, wrapping both arms around them and hugging them tightly. He pushed his face into their neck and breathed them in. “If anyone ever hit you…” he mumbled, hating even the words.

Sweetheart laughed darkly, giving his hair a little tug. “I’d bury ‘em before you even got the chance.”

He sighed. They said that because they didn’t know what it was like to have someone you loved turn on you like that. He was glad for it. It was fierce and beautiful and he hoped they’d never lose that. As long as he was there, they wouldn’t.

“Are you two cleaning or fucking?” Asher called from the front room. “Because I’m about done out here…”

Sweetheart unraveled from Milo and turned toward the doorway. They started making loud sex sounds.

Milo bit back a laugh and finished cleaning his station while Sweetheart gyrated, calling out Asher’s name in a mock orgasm.

Asher came to lean in the doorway, one pierced eyebrow raised at the scene. “Nice, Sweets…” he said, tone flat with sarcasm but a little smirk pulling at his lip. “At least now I know what you’d sound like if I ever fucked you.”

Sweetheart put their hands on their hips, staring back at him. “And?”

He shrugged.

Sweetheart faked offense, hand flying to their heart. “What? What else could you want, Ash? I’m fucking amazing!”

He shrugged again, smirk back, and walked away to start shutting off the lights.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

her lips were cold and dead against their neck.

"you're just a distraction." dorcas shook their head, trying to make her disappear. they couldn't be thinking of her; they ahd to finish off what they had to do. "you're leading me on and away from my track."

"is this all i've ended up to be?" marlene asked, chuckling sarcastically. "a mere distraction from your plans?

"my plan," they accentuated their words, glaring at her, feeling her light, dead eyes all over them, "was to get back to you. with you being here, i can't do that."

"your plan was to get back with me. i am here. enlighten me, why isn't this good?" she asked, looping her arm around their neck.

"because this is a temporary situation, not a permanent state. you will not be here forever." dorcas sighed, rubbing their eyes with the heels of their palms. "this is pointless."

"you make no sense!" marlene laughed. "you said you want me back! here i am, so, what's wrong with me being here? being a," she air-quoted, "distraction?"

"i love you nonetheless." dorcas whispered, feeling like they talked to no one, to their loneliness they were talking to marlene, though. or to what she had once been. they had gone mad with kisses that they pretended to ghost against their skin and with merely the image of marlene, smiling and laughing and loving them again.

"you're loving the dead." she grinned. and she was right.

[dykrophone]

i fucking love screaming along to stone cold because although im fairly sane and have gotten a better hold of my jealousy issues it's so dramatic and just. mecore. like the POWER. the HOLD this song could have had on me if id found it at a different time. i can guarantee if I'd been into this song earlier especially during one of my friendship breakups id be going "im fiiiiiiiiiiiiine im totally not jealous" and then belting IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIF HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPY IS. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER im happy for you like i am mourning my dead lover by the fucking ganga at 3am or something

[emorish-avian]

gazzy and fang don’t seem to have anything in common (besides the obvious being a bird kid thing of course) and so naturally i want to put them in scenarios. situations. maybe even predicaments

[appreciatingtokrev]

i'm currently working on a kokonoi/kazutora piece because i was struck by a very weird but very motivating struck of inspiration, so. it's hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending (at least those are my plans-). i've written about 1k now, started two scenes, one certainly unfinished, one maybe. anyways, i need to gush abt the parts i'm the most proud of somewhere, so i'm doing it on here. enjoy!!

the red parts are the things i am most particularily proud of n will talk abt, the other bits mostly provide (some, at least) context,,

,,To be honest’’, he says, and turns his head to look at Hajimes face, ,,I never thought I’d make it to twenty-seven. People love to ask, What are you going to do when you’re all grown up? I didn’t know, thought I’d be dead soon, anyway. Just said I’d like to open a tattoo shop, so they’d shut up.’’

,,Well, what would you like to do now? In a year? When you’re all old and frail?’’ He smirks, but the emotion doesn’t reach his eyes. They remain empty. Soon, his gaze turns away again.

,,I don’t know. Open a tattoo shop, maybe.’’

,,How would you like to die, Kazutora?’’ Hajime looks at him.

(now, there's a LOT to unpack here. they are having wild late night talks, after all. well, first of all, kazutora basically admits to have wanted to die his whole life. he says he'd tell people he'd want to open a tattoo shop in particular, and koko picks that up, obviously. he, too, asks him what he'd like to do later. kazutora answers with opening a tattoo shop. and now, you see, koko listened to him. he knows that kazutora still wants to die. he still doesn't plan his future. and because of that, he asks, how do you want to die? maybe it's so he can prevent it. maybe he's just curious. but he listens, he understands, and he accepts. and kazutora loves him for that. he's sure chifuyu (who he has unresolved tension with in this fic, that i'll hopefully resolve in a platonic subplot) would've not gotten the message, or at least acted out on it.)

He has to tear his gaze away from Kazutora, not bold enough to look. Not bold enough to see if his eyes finally show dislike.

(kokonoi is a coward. he knows, he's always been. he's very afraid of fucking up and losing someone who's important to him in the process again (inupi). and he doesn't really believe that anyone could love him, without some kind of resentment or bitterness or whatever involved.)

Suddenly, he feels a warm hand on his cheek. It applies some pressure, slowly turning his face towards Kazutora’s. He’s smiling. It’s genuine, and it reaches his eyes.

,,I told you to look at me, Koko. I won’t hurt you. I won’t be hurt.’’

Hajime’s heart skips a beat. He feels the other’s breath touch his face, making his skin crawl. He doesn’t dislike it, though. It’s just unusual. If he were bold enough, he’d lean in, but he isn’t. All he’s ever been is a coward.

Kazutora lets go of his cheek and turns his head away to stare into the distance. The moment is over, and Kokonoi regrets. He looks at his half-empty glass of wine and drinks until there’s no liquid left.

(you guys can't imagine just how proud i am of the i won't hurt you. i won't be hurt. !! koko mostly needs the reassurance that he won't hurt tora, not as much the other way around, but kazutora makes sure to provide both. i think that kokonoi heavily blames himself for all that's happened between him and inupi and he feels really bad about it all. he fears that he'll accidentally hurt the people he loves most again and thus has difficulty getting closer to others. kazutora is afraid of the exact same thing (..among others. fr, he's really just some silhouette, filled with trauma and other mental problems to the brim), so he understands, and he reassures him accordingly. the other lines are about kokonois cowardice again. another thing that's haunted him for most of his life, another thing that ruined what inupi and he'd had. he's working on it, though. i'm also quite proud of the regret line, don't really know why. regret is a rather big thing in this piece (as well as learning to accept it), so maybe that's why.)

,,Koko is different. He actually listens to me. You don’t’’, Kazutora murmurs.

,,I... Tora-’’

,,Don’t fucking Tora me. Maybe I’d tell you more about him, if you told me more about yourself, too. You’re as dense as a brick wall, I don’t have a clue what you’re feeling, all I know is it’s not good. But all you ever do is keep quiet and try to do everything by yourself’’, he explains, intently looking at the man in front of him. He breathes in, deep. ,,Didn’t you learn from Baji?’’

Chifuyu looks at him, shock in his eyes. He opens his mouth but remains silent. Kazutora runs away and locks himself in the bathroom.

(as stated before, kokonoi listens. chifuyu tries, but doesn't manage. he can't pick up on the small hints tora gives, while koko can. (also, random, but i'm actually a huge kazufuyu shipper (they're my biggest ship in this fandom, tbh, lol) and i don't necessarily agree with this normally, but it really fits this fic and they're totally platonic in this anyway, so. yeah) chifuyu canonically does that. baji did, too. and if you felt like that baji line hit you over the head with a brick, it did what it was intended to do!! well, i'm really really proud of this line, because aaaa adgjjfgjgfdhhs the fucking tension. the audacity. the hurt. the pain. the angst. and the fact that kazutora is right but chifuyu can't admit it and aaaaa. also, tora took a deep breath to emotionally prepare himself for saying that sentence, and also to decide on wheter to actually do it or not. and then he fucking did.)

[ackee]

i need kamdeuce to be dramafilled so someone has to cheat on the other at some point but figuring out who is hard......

itll prolly be kam to give her a flaw 😭 deuce is too much of an easy target. BUT IT HURTS TOO BAD. im thinking itd happen bc they were on break but didnt lay down ground rules, or a drunk thing....

shed have an internal fight abt it bc she's very honest. to say something and be truthful or just keep acting like it didnt happen and keep the peace...

[neon-danger]

I love when I find a direction for the fic to go

[isekyaaa]

Ngl I think some writers on here are like diseased people that are only attracted to superficial means of emotion and wouldn't be able to write anything of depth if they ever tried.

[idkwidatp]

Are there any fanfics about bow and the whole "I understand friendship is hard you have to work at it so why am I the only one that's willing to work at it" thing? because boys night out is one of if not my favorite episode because of the angst from bow and how frustrated he seems and I wish me got more of that and also that episode makes me hate season 4 glimmer more.

[sorchathered]

It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

———————————————————————

Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

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🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭