#when i can't even get a shit call center job i really see nothing for me

[princesscedar]

[verdemoun]

Hiii I wanted to ask what you think happens to Micah in the timewarp au cause modern Micah is such an enigma and it's so funny to me. Do you think he's coping well with modern times? Or does he just respawn and immediately tries robbing a mc Donald's or smth. Could def see him doing Florida man throwing an alligator through a Wendy's window type shit or just being the Wendy's employee getting the alligator thrown at him.

Also speaking of Florida man do you have an idea of what state they live in currently in modern au? (I love hearing peoples takes on where in America they think rdr takes place, especially when they're talking about where they'd be in a modern au)

i am so conflicted because like. gang with memories and knowledge of what happens in the future.

arthur wants to kill micah. yes he's been thriving and has a happy life with hosea and bessie and the boys and being a part of isaac's modern life but imagine the guilt he would feel knowing he was dying anyway but if he'd killed micah in 1899 it would've literally saved lives and it might have meant the bureau never went after john in 1911. the absolute arthur 'blames himself for everything that ever happened' morgan would consider himself personally responsible for every life micah took/destroyed post 1899. and arthur has 8 years to plan. 8 years.

but i did let dutch live so why not micah. gotta give rat bastard man a of love

micah respawned in a denny's parking lot to the sight of arthur morgan with a baseball bat. no context. no understanding what's happening. it's late evening. there's street lights and neon signs and who fucking cares they immediately pick up where they left off in 1899 which is beating the living shit out of one another.

cut to them both bloody and bruised in holding cells at the local jail still hurling insults at each other while hosea is just standing there wondering what the actual hell he is meant to do.

said incident immediately landed micah on a list of people not allowed to be sold guns and it is like neutering a feral dog. the first time micah cries in his life is at a walmart being told he isn't able to buy a gun. even if the gang want nothing to do with him like they are getting a phone call sorry to interrupt your evening sir but there's an adult man throwing a tantrum on the floor

the gang are forced to admit it isn't morally correct to a) let micah loose unsupervised in modern era or b) leave him to fend for himself and die. micah ends up living in a trailer park. he embraces redneck culture. he eats so much fast food the servers will call for a welfare check if they haven't seen him in more than three days. he gets a job at a paintball center because damnit if he can't have a gun he will have gun-adjacent. he is the conservative dad-bod southern hick hero of teenage boys everywhere

what's really funny is isaac morgan's best friend (other than jack, obviously) is malachi bell who is a direct descendant of amos bell. because he has known isaac since elementary school: and young isaac did not understand his experiences of being murdered and reawakening in modern era were not universal: kai is fully aware of how the timewarp works ie sometimes he goes with isaac to visit grandpop hosea and there will be a very confused freshly warped outlaw sitting on the couch. the fucking phone call of 'hey remember how my family was super weird around you at the start because you look scarily like your grand uncle who kind of killed my dad and was murdered by my uncle GUESS WHO JUST TURNED UP'

micah is the best terrible uncle a kid could ask for and is honestly super attached to kai even though kai is his polar opposite in every way out of spite. kai goes to micah's trailer for dinner. says he's vegetarian. goes again and micah went through the effort of getting tofu. says he's allergic to soy. inherited all the bell snark and none of the tendency towards evil

micah and arthur in a fistfight at a barbeque while kai and isaac are both just standing there 'i'm sorry about my family'

an underappreciated micah fact is how much he cared about baylock. he would get the exact same level of giddy as the rest of the gang being around horses in modern era. while living in a trailer is not ideal for having a horse he does have a massive black 'looks like he could kill you but is actually a giant cuddle bear' bully-breed dog because as much as he was afraid of dogs (fight me) he is actually more afraid of being alone. his dog eats at the table with him. micah eats mcdonalds while his dog gets lovingly pan-seared steak.

his dog is a kill-shelter rescue named baymax and micah has no idea about disney movies and doesn't understand why people giggle at the name.

to the second point i am not american and have no idea wheeze but i think texas?? texas is where most people seem to think new austin is based on?? in rdr terms they're probably on the northern side of modern day blackwater like there's the bay to the east, mountains to the north and desert to the west. pls if there are any americans what fast food place would micah bell III dedicate his life to and what state should they be in

[genderfluidgothwitch]

How did you wind up Pagan, and what's your favorite part about it?

Oh there's a lot to this lmao.

Okay, so growing up, my mom was part of this online forum for moms (she found it through a friend) and this group had fairly diverse beliefs, and my mom always thought we should be introduced to other ways of life as a purely academic exercise. This is where we found my ex-partner and their family. Ex and mother were both Wiccan, although at the time my ex just knew it as a form of paganism. They didn't realize it was the Wiccan faith until later, iirc. Anyways, that was my first basic intro to paganism.

Several years later, when I was struggling with my Christian faith, I was trying to figure out what I could do in terms of religion and spirituality. I always enjoyed nature, and my ex thought I would enjoy Wicca, so I started doing some research. We cast a few spells here and there, but it was that first spell we did together that really made me stop and realize, there's something here for me. So I did some more research, started kinda doing my own sort of magical thing. Then the shit hit the fan. My ex turned out to be a really bad person, so I had to find a way to get out of their massive pile of bullshit. So I did everything I could to get them out of my home (including packing their shit for them). When I finally got a chance to breathe again, I sat down and was honest with myself. Was I doing this because of my ex, or was I doing it for me?

My answer came last August when I had a severe mental breakdown. I was crying every day, stoned from dawn to dusk, and I didn't want anything to do with anyone. I talked to... three? people consistently during that time: my husband, my wife, and @xmarinaryx. I was so fed up with the pressures being placed on me at my job that I just fucking broke. I didn't start even trying to recover for two months after. But when I did, I started think about where I found my comfort most: books. I picked up a book series I had began years and years ago, but never got to finish because I could never find the last book. Even so, still without the last book, I decided to reread the series. Vampyres, magic, nocturnal school, it was practically my ideal life as a child. Then I reread the first book and I felt this connection to the Nyx in the book, the goddess of the night and vampyres, and she was depicted as a loving, caring, compassionate goddess. She wasn't evil because she was darkness personified, she was a tender pair of arms wrapped around you as you cried on her shoulder.

And that's when I realized, there's nothing stopping me from worshiping her.

I started calling myself a pagan more consistently. It was something that felt more encompassing of me, my ideals, and who I was. I love the earth, I love my goddess, and I love being a witch. It's as fundamentally a part of me as my blood, and I can't say the analogy to being live-giving isn't apt. Paganism, specifically the earth-centered spiritual practice, is my home, more than a church ever was. We only have one earth. There's millions of churches. I'd rather be at peace with what I can see, versus what I'm told.

[goddevouringserpent]

c'mon girlies (gender neutral) time for the SLOW YET STEADY CORRUPTION ARC, the DISCOVERY OF THE MOST FUCKED UP PARTS OF OUR SELF WHICH WE EMBRACE LIKE THEY'RE WORTH NURTURING BECAUSE WE ARE TOO AFRAID OF THE ALTERNATIVE, the ULTIMATE SACRIFICE OF OUR MORALITY FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE OR SOMETHING THAT BURNS LIKE ONLY LOVE COULD, TH

anyway, this is Angel, or yuor devil 😈, my MC for @homecomingvn ! definitely gonna be romancing Henry; still not sure if he's also going to be my MC for Lyra or if I'll make a different one for her, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it

more info about Angel below the cut because I cannot shut up ever. it's my curse and I bear it with dignity.

if you ever try to call Angel out on anything, her go-to reply will be "aw, do you really think I would do that, can't you see I'm an angel?" & a face that's a weird mixture of 😏 and 🥺. don't ask how he pulls that one off, it's a secret between him and god and neither of them's telling (when the Nonbinary hit, she briefly considered changing her name for something that sparked more gender joy, but ultimately decided against it because commitment to the bit is her #1 priority.)



I put 'chemistry' as one of the things he likes, but really she's super into anything science-related, chemistry is just her passion. one of the STEM bitches, basically. maybe a bit light on the TE part, but he would still read a 700-page book about, I don't know, How To Build Some Big Shit Like A Bridge Or Aqueduct and enjoy every bit of it. which doesn't necessarily mean he'd understand every bit of it, mind you, but it's all about the energy I guess



related to the above: WILL infodump about her interests if given the chance. WILL NOT stop unless directly and firmly told to. if you want him to shut up but are too polite to do anything about it? good fucking luck. Angel can keep going for hours and that is a promise.



hates the nickname 'Angie' and will never respond to it. will accept 'Annie' from friends, but really they tend to prefer more personalized nicknames—like Henry's 'Buttercup'—or just plain ol' Angel



extremely ride-or-die. if she considers you one of 'her people' there's next to nothing you could do to make her change her mind or give up on you. (though, to be honest, he probably IS going to be very confused as to how he managed to befriend not one Fucked Up Weirdo but two. didn’t even know there were two Fucked Up Weirdos in town! gotta be something in the water.)



I don't know what his job is going to be yet, but I do know he's already had like 15 jobs minimum; all because she's very thorough about "following your dreams" and it just so happens that her dreams generally last around 10-20 business days before he moves on to another dream. Angel, stop hoarding jobs, you fucking maniac. you're gonna destroy the economy. and yes that's sexy conceptually but you gotta be more careful about it bro (gender neutral)



tends to play wizards in D&D/any TTRPG. she likes the complexity and versatility.



speaking of, it's time for the most nightmarish scary fact about Angel, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED READER BEWARE: she thinks THAC0 makes perfect sense and is intuitive & easy to understand. if you just felt a cold chill run down your spine, it's okay, I did too 😔 (in this house we tolerate AD&D in a "respect your elders" kinda way, but fuck THAC0 what was up with that shit)

Notes:

I don't actually know if school newspapers are a thing or I got tricked by media from the USA and also my ex-girlfriend; it's just that the concept of being some sort of unhinged investigative journalist at the tender age of 14something+ was too fitting for Angel and I had to take the risk of looking like a clown.

the Picrew used is Black Centered Picrew <3 by naylissah. I'd link it but I've been led to believe that This Website makes it so that you can't put external links or the post won't show up in tags/mentions, so uh. it's on the first page of Picrew, if you can't find it send me a DM or something??

[varley-of-torment]

The von Bartels Siblings Post

I think Mercedes, by the time she's at the academy, has a really complex relationship with her older siblings.

To be clear, in my headcanon (of which is. extensive. I am just bonkers about the bartels household) Von Bartels children, of which there were four, were all close in age and about/at least ten years older than Mercie and Emile, and thus were adults (early 20's) when they were growing up. To put it briefly, I think Von Bartels deeply neglected his children when they were growing up, and this is why they resent Emile and Mercedes- they're jealous that these kids, with crests, are getting the attention they were denied as children (even if it's negative attention). This anger manifested in abusing their younger siblings, whether physically, emotionally, etc depending on the sibling.

So growing up, Mercedes would obviously see them as one sided villains that exist to torment her. But I think, with distance and time, she started to consider that they were also victims of Von Bartels abuse and were working with the limited understanding of family dynamics they had. But at the same time, THEY were the adults when she was just a kid, so not only is it pathetic for them to bully literal children because of their insecurities, but of anyone there, they should have been the ones to step up and protect her and Emile from their father. When she gets to the age they were when she was a kid, she can't understand how they'd act that way.

I guess now is a good time to go over my Bartels children OC's

Edgar: The youngest of the siblings (16-18). Toxic Masculinity embodied and wants nothing but to impress his father, or at least have him notice him. Aggressive, impulsive, competitive, and loud. Primarily uses physical force to antagonize his younger siblings. Grew out/wears his hair to look like his father. Childishly jealous of Mercedes and Emile. Is called to House Bartels during breaks from school.

Franz and Sylvia: middle and oldest but very close in age (22-25). Both completely done with Von Bartels' shit. Franz, imagine David from HBO's Six Feet Under; Very calm and collected with simmering rage buried deep beneath, well read and hardworking, but always mirthless. Sylvia is Sylvia: cool, ruthless, plain mean, confident in her competency- and she's right to be, as she's the most powerful of her siblings. Wears those black leather boots. Carries herself as though nothing can hurt her, a tough as nails type. I put them together because they work as a unit. For reasons I won't go into here, in my headcanon Von Bartels was stripped of his Baron power and responsibilities while maintaining his title. This means it fell on Franz and Sylvia to do... everything, the business, the connections, the paperwork- they are overworked, but they're both also really smart and do it well. They are obviously bitter that, even though they technically have the power of Baron, they are forced to work the job of their father who neglected them their whole life while he maintains power over them (he forces them to give him the majority of the money so they are financially dependent on him), and while they work themselves to the bone, he is ungrateful. They are less concerned with Mercedes and Emile, but play mind games, verbally abuse and lock them in rooms because they are "intruders", and treat them like they should be totally subservient, and resent Mercedes for being Von Bartels' favorite. Called to House Bartels frequently but for short bursts to discuss business and have meetings about the Baron-hood.

Evi: middle (20-23). Has cut ties as much as possible- not a presence at all in Mercedes's life growing up. Absolutely closed off even to herself, has coped with everything via pure apathy. Never talks to anyone in her family.

Here's a small scene to demonstrate their personalities: In their backyard, Edgar throws a javelin at the practice target and gets it nearly in the center. He turns to Sylvia and goes "Ha! Beat that!" Sylvia aims a finger gun and demolishes the practice target with a lightning bolt. "Beat you." Meanwhile, Franz is inside working, reviewing the monthly expense receipts and grumbling to himself.

[pwblogarchive]

March 2006

March 8, 2006

“fucking savages…”

Don't sweat it kiddo...just look on the bright side,...you helped usher alot of young ladies into woman-hood tonight.

secondly, would everyone leave the poor guy alone already? Everyone wonders what drives people in bands "over the edge" or into a "meltdown"...its shit like this. How would you like it if someone posted "risque" pics of you online. Have some tact people. fuckin weak.

PS: Los Angeles will bury you alive

March 11, 2006

its funny how i seem to find myself home alone on friday nights. ill catch a look in the mirror at myself on the way up the stairs and i realize that i am not much different from the loser i was in 8th grade. still totally flawed in the same ways- only presented with these flaws at the most inopportune times. thats okay though. it helps my pen. and with the weeks ive had- i am probably a bit better off sitting this one out. i can't wait for everyone to get a chance to see the new video. we spent alot of time on it- patrick scored the entire thing and i have to say that he did an amazing job. but really i just want to be back on the road. playing shows is the only thing that feels okay lately. that and the one time she called me "serious george". lets start a club for all of us losers sitting at home on the internet on a friday night. what should we call it?it feels good to focus on the words again rather than all the bullshit that surrounds, a nice escape the way it used to be.new songs you will like i hope, maybe even love.here are some passages i was writing tonight:"The new uncool. And im leaning my head against some window in sometown. It doesn’t even really matter.

My head feels heavy. Tissue stuffed in my nose caked with dried blood, stuck like glue (the way I am to you). Ive got bad luck fists and every single joint in them is dyed a deep bruised violet. The blood is thick coating my throat, I heave towards my feet. December fights mean the most. Your face hurts before you even get into it. In Chicago if you hit somebody in the winter, you really mean it. it hurt my fist everytime I hit this kid’s cheek and teeth. And lets not even talk about how the concrete feels skidding against your face below zero. It’s the only time I don’t skip out on myself. I stand in there for every shot. The first fist in my stomach felt like it turned my guts inside out. I fell onto the curb and heard my keys clink down the angle of the street. I licked my bloody spit on my hand and slapped the kid that just punched me in the gut then walked off to find my keys. This kid spun me around and for the second before he hit me, I laughed cause my spit and blood on his face looked like warpaint, then he hit me right dead center in the face. Like a hiccup in time, it all slows down after you get hit in the face- you cant feel another fucking thing on your body. Like the cartoon stars, this is what they are referring to. Only all I had was every single tear duct on my head working overtime to get enough buckets out. the tears freezing on my cheeks, the blood, salty and quickly working into a paste when mixed with the dirt I had sucked up when I hit the ground. I hear converse pounding the cement in the distance, the sound is absolutely gorgeous. All I can do is smile back at this stupid kid like the worst kind of dare- the kind of smile that says "too late". Sound the cannons. The cavalry has arrived. This is why he will always be my bestfriend in my mind. us chasing these kids home. And him catching one on the front porch of the kids own home and pulling him off of it, the skin on this kids hand tearing as he is wrenched from the safety of the doorknob he has anchored himself on. this kid was screaming like he was being murdered. We’re panting in the cold air. Kissing off "maybe we shouldn’t"s like they were nothing. He is holding the kid and I am laying into him again and again. Right hand only. I want this kid to feel every hit. Its like green/silver on the screen, our glory days, his mom coming out of the front porch and my bestfriend telling her to ‘get back in the fucking house’. This kid defiant until the end, I gotta give that to him, no white flags- "fuck you"s between every hit. Me spitting my blood into his mouth. I get into a rhythm until this kid goes limp. For every single time I couldn’t sleep at night cause I knew what kids like this were gonna say to me in the morning. We wash the blood off of our faces and hands in the snow on the kids front lawn and walk home. Stopping when I see the glimmer of my keys in the sewer. He’s got longer arms then me so he reaches in and takes them back.

There’s no other reason to remember this than- no one deserves the title bestfriend if they don’t sound like the cavalries cannons or aren’t willing to bleed next to you.""I never meant for this to end up the way it has, you gotta believe me- the songs, the words, the flashes of the camera, the same interviews with the same answers over and over again to hell- im always a phone call away from making it or breaking it. and you should know that only when I see your sweated out eyes, that almost look like tears, living and dying right in front microphone altar, it’s the only reason I don’t throw the towel in. instead I shrug it off, another year down. Tell myself anything to make sense of it all. "Damn, kid- you really believe in yourself". I used to believe in dragons too. And I used to like these words a whole lot more but then they started sleeping around with your eyes and ears. Im coughing directions into the phone, my lungs hurt like im smoking sympathy cigarettes with you every time you light up. "turn left at the second stop sign. At the end of my driveway turn (b)right". thank god "I can’t wait to see you" weighs a whole lot more than "I cant let you see me like this" in the greater scale of things. You look so fucking good on my front porch when youre coming this way. I fake shyness at the door but only because I think that’s what you want. There is a breadcrumb trail of melancholy that leads back up to my bed or maybe out the third floor window depending on whose following it. We soften, we surrender in the failing light. I kiss your cheek goodbye (you’re not the one leaving). But its only a formality, like crossing yourself before you kneel in church. You are the bright oval light spotted out by the flashlight and I am everything else in the dark room. In the beginning I was only planning on holding on to you and using you recreationally, but then I started needing you at nights and then all the time. The not remembering is what gets to me the worst. Honestly the sex is overrated and the conversation is fucking terrible- so why do you still have me programmed in your phone? I broke out the ougie board and tried to contact the living. I said I need an outline and a diagram but then I can pretty much take it from there. Switch out the characters in this dream cause they just don’t seem realistic. Play the part- change the light cause it makes my skin look washed out. The hardest thing about life is the living part."

- petey

March 14, 2006

icantwaittoseeyouagain:He said "I was pretty much born in an abortion clinic".Lines like that are show stoppers.Imagine records being scratched at parties in the movies."I was born in Tampa in may of 82’, they razed the hospital and by January 83’ it was an abortion clinic".And this was my introduction to one of my bestfriends.He’s the gun that didn’t discharge.He’s The quarters you cant pick up cause they are glued to the ground.He is a disaster- He’s all the worst parts of the bible, thrown into one.The disaster sleeps in a bunk less than 3 feet away from me (there are worse things tonight than the bus crashing). He’s wearing a shirt that says "cowgirls ride better bare back".It’s enough to make me laugh, if only because he’s used that as a pick-up line.The light on my laptop pulses white on black like morse code mayday signals in the dark.It always wants me.It always knows what im thinking (so does The disaster).The disaster is looking in my bunk over the curtains again.Hes’s always looking for something to ruin.I close my eyes to fake sleep.Im not fast enough or he knows me too well.Right now he is a cycle: scream, laugh and fall over, repeat."Networks would pay good money for a reality tv star like you" I say.(We are the opposite of diamonds in the rough).Maybe he’ll hyperventilate and pass out."pete, you in there?" he shouts in response.Clearly there isn’t an iq equvilancy test to be my friend.I tell him, "gimme your moms number. You know its not too late for her to have an abortion"."alright, lets go eat"- he spits as he stumbles towards the bathroom.He’s either too drunk or not drunk enough.I couldn’t make up a kid like this.Our lives as a greek tragedy. Every single fucking character you get attatched to dies at the end.The bus crawls into texas.But it doesn’t matter. All the skylines look the same now.Everywhere is- not home.But we still live the lives you always dreamed of.We don’t pay covers. We sleep through the days.I mostly think of vampires.Not quite. But they are the closest I can come.They gotta know something about the way we don’t go to sleep until the sun comes up. Or maybe something about the marks she’s been leaving on my neck.Yawn.Squint.Dark glasses.I hate the way the sun looks at me. Like it knows everything ive been up to.There is something intensely foreign but at the same time charming about texas. Put the love on hold. We move slow.The disaster is wearing a "don’t mess with texas" shirt.The unOriginal gansta.The disaster says "im faded, but you should really think this over cause it could take all night".But I’m pretty sure he was just faded.My bunk feels like a coffin tonight. The air feels humid here. It makes it hard to breathe. It makes every pull worth it.This is the curtain call on desperation.So come out and take a bow. They’re all throwing roses.Could we get a brighter light to stage left and maybe a bit more attention.(I am all the parts of the bullet but the powder).(I am diamonds into coal).Fuck your low carbs.Fuck your atkins diet.Fuck your southbeach diet.Nothing keeps the weight off like depression.My friends all wonder about my abs- it’s a serious regiment of like a month of sitting alone, waiting for phone calls that never come.Sometimes I feel like the fucking pied piper.The tinted glass is like a two way mirror.This is so voyeuristic it hurts.(I never meant to be like this).What we’d all do for alittle attention.Its like the pied piper-But I am following the light down a vermin hole.You probably shouldn’t come after me.It’s like the pied piper-Only it’s a little bit more like a cult.And I don’t even feel like I am the one behind the wheel anymore.I look up at the light shining through the curtains.The disaster is on to another bunk. Hes got me smiling.

- petey

March 17, 2006

so the tour has kicked off. it’s been pretty intense. the kids in new england have been amazing so far. we are playing for about an hour and a half every night- including one of our oldest songs ever and a new song that we’ve never played before live.

oh and some of you were wondering- the quote at the end of my last journal was from a movie called “the united states of leland.”

i found this song that is so rad- total “listen late at night with one light on barely, drinking sleeptime tea” song. i don’t know who it’s by. i will find out though.

keep voting for 16 candles over on trl so we can brag to our labelmate n-yo that we’ve got cooler fans.

really exciting news about decaydance right around the corner.

glad to see old familiar faces in the front row- i was worried.

xo

EDIT: okay- the song is called “fall away” and it’s by lauren hoffman- i have no idea anything about her but it’s perfect to listen to when you are falling asleep alone- “I heard the warning of the sun, Remember all the days I strayed, I found you, The moon fell down and made no sound… Where’s my mind I lost it too, And you put my love away”.

also- bob from the hush wanted me to let you know they are playing a super small show at chain reaction on april second in anaheim- you know all the creeps and jerks in the bands on this tour will be there.

posted by: peter, patrick, andy and joe

3/17/06 Q&A

question

does leslie write rainy day kids? or do you write it? or do you just take credit for it?

answer

i am writing it. leslie is editting it. trust me. youll be able to tell its me by the style.

question

Hey Pete….I was listening to MYAMERICANHEART today and looking through who the band thanked and it said “Pete Wentz and Clandestine Industries” Did you know that they thanked you? I thought it was cool.

answer

yeah. they are great kids and a good band.

question

Dear Pete , I wish you didnt speak so badly of fat people , females especially . I know that you have so called “vanity issues” of your own but that doesnt tolerate the fact that “fat” women are subjected to ridicule and underappreciation by you . As always said … skinny bitches are evil , i think you should recognize .Plus watch out cuz you might get whats comin to ya .Karmas a bitch trust me I know .

answer

im not interested in making fun of anyone because of their body type. i myself have always been made fun of for being short- so i dont need karma- ive always had that. i dont think many people feel safe in their own skin. but their is not reason to call “skinny bitches evil” either- because noone chooses how they look. ivedated people of all shapes and sizes. initial attraction may be physical but at the end of the day its the people who keep you laughing and talking that matter- no matter what size they are. actions speak louder than words- dont believe everything you hear (even if im the one saying it).

question

hey pete umm i had this boyfriend and he was gettin bugged at school and well he killed himself and it was so hard for me to watch him go like that and i broke my heart cuzz not olny did i lose my best friend but i lost the person i wanted to send the rest of my life with and it bothers me cuzz i loved him so much and every time i hear some of ur song i start to cry and somtimes i feel like killing myself but i just cut my wrists but i dont no how longer i can stand this before i do somthing really stupid and i need to no what to do so i am asking you please dont let me down ur my hero so dont let me down my life is in ur hands now

answer

the truth is, its okay to feel blue and down. especially right after someone you love kills themself. it is confusing and scary. if our music helps than that is amazing and probably the best compliment we could ever be given. but the truth is- you have to know that their are other people who have felt like this before and it is hard but you will make it through it. i mean, you have to. you definitely need to be talking to someone, a friend or your parents. the day after tommorrow could be the best day ever.

question

i have to say that im a bit dissapointed that youre playing at a non-smoking venue in denver…somewhow smoke smell adds to the beautiful concert ambiance (even though i dont smoke…is that weird?)

answer

yeah its pretty awesome. iron lungs and chemotherapy are really sexy. nah their not. smoking cigarettes is so two years ago- and you can tell joe trohman i said that.

question

im really upset about you guys not going to warped tour…why arent you?????????

answer

with warped tour- its supposed to be one year on, one year off- when you play the mainstage. were gonna come out and hang at a couple of the dates.

question

how in the world does andy spin the drumsticks so long…..i am a really good drummer me and my freiends have a band, and i have been tryin so hard to spin it but i get nowhere with it……

answer

its all cgi- we hired the guys who did the last star wars movie and they editted like that. he doesnt even really have hands.

3/18/06

question

Hey Pete, is that dog in the new video your dog? I saw you holding in a picture recently and I was wondering about that. Whats his/her name? Its a very cute dog. =)

answer

its not mine. its bonnie janes. but it does always look delicious.

question

i sleep with my arms across my chest and dream of you with someone else…” what is that a lyric from?

answer

maximo park. go listen.

question

could I just correct you…goats dont eat everything, they make pretty good pets they like chocolate and mountain dew but I havent seen a goat eat say…a tin can. you silly city boy.

answer

i saw a goat eat dirty laundry once. it was gross. like even grosser than when dirty picks his teeth with my comb.

question

hey! i just got home from a party and it was so fun but it got me thinking, whats your dance style/move? love always, princess pat

answer

hide in the corner and laugh at my friends dancing- look at pretty girls and then go home and go to sleep. thats pretty much my only move.

question

hey pete im planning to make patrick a friendship braclet and i wanted to give it him personally im going to the Jacksonville concert should i throw it up on stage(since i have floor tickets) or should i wait around after the show like a weird stalker and hand it to him as you guys are leavn??

answer

meet and greets are the best chance to give him something. throw it on stage but try not to hit him in the eye.

question

Pete what is it like to be on trl?

answer

its like a million people screaming and spazzing and then they realize you are an ordinary boy and its cool cause you just get to meet people and its very relaxed.

question

I just saw the new music video, A little less 16 candles, A little more touch me I was just wondering why did u pic a vampire theme. Also i saw the making of the video on Mtv and why does patrick not wear his glasses when he plays but then he wears them like in “real life”??

answer

because there are actually two patricks. one does his appearances and the other plays shows. its quite confusing. the only way you can tell is: patrick number two has a 2 right behind his left ear- duh- whyd you think he always wears hats?

March 22, 2006

 "baby im getting on a plane in a minute i wanted to say bye and i love you..." 

its funny the way being young exaggerates everything. when we fall in love or fall apart its all magnified. ive been waiting on a change. ive been waiting for you to not give up on me. i should have bet against myself and thrown the game. its always the same. the same people that are not me with the strange coastal breeze and the strange coastal boys. the truth is even funnier. its slippery. it looks different at 1am than it does at 10am. it looks different two weeks later. you know what the fuck i am talking about. its always new names and numbers. but its the same. and i am dirty, forgetful, lonely, arrogant, stubborn, secretive, and many other things i hear in whispers. but my heart is fucking in it. you could set your watch by it. and that has been thrown out and trashed. lied to. ignored. run away from. i have the opposite of midas' touch. no matter how you spin it- it hurts. words cannot explain- congratulations! you did it again. but being in the bitter boys club just keeps the cycle spinning. so this is me walking away. this is the closure i needed. or close to it. i want to be in love again. she is the start of it- she reminds me of sweet child o'mine and staying up all night talking and the truth and winks that are just for me. there are no futures here. there are no more second chances or arkansas- or wrong text messages. 'the girl i loved never really existed at all'... this journal doesn't really make sense anymore. the purpose i started it for is out the window and out of my mind. this will be the last entry in here. its gonna be okay. "its not that id die for you, its that i already have." next time try telling the truth. Current Music: "wish you were here" pink Floyd 

March 22, 2006

i cant believe how i started that last one off. it read so wrong. the last time i felt anything:My wrists are black and blue from bumping the edge of the table next to the keyboard like a punching bag. Im sorry just that’s the only way I know how to get this out. consider it closer to preheating the oven for when I drag the pen across my skin and spill the ink. My eyes black and trembling, sinking like stones. Her hands hold my head back once an hour as I throw up in the sink. The front of the stereo lights up "hello" when it turns on, it’s the only conversation in the room. Every night the alarm goes off at last call reminding me. I leave the house just in time to meet her out in front of the closed bar. Neon lights set free as they are shut off, they now go to sleep without a purpose. We own the edge of the street. I had concerns but they’re wearing off in the moonlight. I tell her I love the angle her hair takes in the shadows stretched across the street, cars plowing through the silhouettes of our torsos. Shes not impressed. I follow it up by telling her how she seems so L.A., she thanks me, though I never meant it to be a compliment. Her eyelashes are black and long- they seem to be the stitching around her eyes, holding all the fabric that is her together. I fight the urge to pull one and watch her unravel like an old sweater. I chew swallowables just to get them in my bloodstream faster. I skip the cell phone and just knock on her door just to get her in my bloodstream faster. I apologize for remembering everything out of order but my mind never was too linear. My head feels full of perfumed air and disinfectant spray. It feels like its been blown up with air but not floating more with an air heavier than the earth’s atmosphere and rolling slowly down the street. My head is swimming in milligram doses. Detatched, maybe this is what it feels like to be her, thinking of me. My last thoughts are of leaves floating in an abandoned pool in autumn. Strange. The way their stems move like fish. My pupils are fucking collosal, and if you could read them they’d be like the sign on a storefront "I’m sorry I have stepped away for awhile". Close the lid of the computer and lay back my head on the pillow blackened by your mascera. There’s people on tv a half a world away that are being blown up for trying to vote and I am complaining when we have diet soda instead of regular on our rider. You probably don’t even know what a rider is, but that’s just proof that you’re focusing on the wrong part of that sentence. Im skidding my shoe along the sidewalk, you’re telling me about your day- only I stopped caring about your days about a month ago. Im wearing your scarf cause I love the way it smells, the weather definitely isn’t calling for it, but it makes my memory feel comfortable. Im always trying to please my memory lately so it stops running off on me. Stop at the corner. We both have our hoods up, I tug yours towards my face. our eyes should always be this close(d), to this day ive never written a word about your lips just because I could never found ones that they are deserving of. And im not one for breaking habits, so I wont now. Fuck it. This isn’t gonna make any sense when I read it in the morning anyway.

- petey

3/22/06 Q&A

question

So, how is the reunion of Landshark 1 and Landshark 2 going so far? xoLC

answer

amazing. weve been riding bikes everyday. pretty much the best kid ever.

question

pete, im confused. in the interview joe said that fob is far from ever being on a tour buss, but sense your van/trailer crashed, wat are you riding in now? xo, sarah

answer

we didnt get a tour bus until about a year after that was filmed. and when we did we shared a bus with matchbook romance- after that weve been riding in a tour bus to write a record but we crammed our entire crew into one tour bus for warped tour. we tour between 200 and 300 days of the year. it is necessary for us to sleep and try to have some kind of home or else we would have to tour way less. it makes the music and shows better. we have also always paid for our tour busses ourselves. we have never taken tour support to do it. not that it needs to be justified because honestly we were in a van for 3 years in this band alone, not to mention the other bands weve done.

March 28, 2006

got some good news. i figured i'd post it here cause some of its kinda fbr related:1. first and foremost. i am excited to announce that lifetime has signed to decaydance (fbr) records. mostly, because the world needs another lifetime record. this is a partnership before it is anything else- and i have an intense respect for this band. how they go about things will be unchanged whether they play 2 shows or 200 shows - or who they record with or what the new stuff sounds like. i am a super fan and its exciting to have the chance to hear new songs! more than anything i hope new kids who are fans of bands from this scene can see where all of us got much of our influence from.2. the clandestine / fender squire bass has been set into motion- i will get pics up asap over at the buzznet. i am thinking that it will be available around the last two weeks of this tour possibly- and we are going to keep the price as low as squire basses are (under 300 - sold at guitar centers for between 220 and 260). i am excited about it.3. off day in new mexico. us and the all american rejects took over a chucky cheese. pictures will be up soon.4. deep breath, smile. dont take it all so seriously (that was mostly directed at me).xo

- petey

3/28/06 Q&A

question

Where the hell do you find apple fanta?? Ive lived in texas all my life and i didnt even know the made that.

answer

its always in dusty bottles and is almost always flat. so good.

question

how come you guys only answer a certain few questions?…oh and is it ok if my band plays your songs practising? btw your drummer is brill, but i can drum to your songs..(nah nah nah) sarah xx

answer

cause 99 percent of the questions are: “will you give me your screenname”, “will patrick kiss me”, “can you tell gerard that hes a hottie”. it is very evident to me that i should move to where ever you are because i would like to use “s” instead of “c”.

question

is your your bus stinky?

answer

yes.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

12.11.23 Monday

12 am

I still have windblow... I'm thinking of job and money....I feel irritated!

I'm panicky... Getting old for nothing...

Awhile ago in the show room of Lancaster, the TV in the living room was on the "show time" show, their show was called "especially for you" it is about I think an early valentines date show.I find it so funny coz the guy should choose who to date or he needs to choose one on the 5 girls contestants to be his date or somehow gf. It was funny coz one girl cried when the guy didn't choose her. It was funny right?

What if Borgy will choose my Mitch in-front of me? Hmm.... But he needs to choose... The choosing part, I can't really understand.

Still, have windblow...

I still feel jealous on things that I don't know, that I must know...

9:18 am

My God! I need meds for Neko so many ticks and fleas... I feel bad... I need money and job...

I need money!!!

9:45 am

I hate Eusebio so much for their stolen money...

9:49 am

Uncle DD and Aunt Karen are here now... I don't know if they can give assistance even on me...

10:45 am

I wanna have a real black bf but Borgy will be in my mind for this windblow something...

I'm losing hope on Borgy no progress since 2007... I love black men angels...

But I still wanna see sand-dunes in ilocos... My ROCK...

But if Borgy will get My Mitch without in-front of me, I will feel HURT AND BAD!

11:01 am

Uncle DD just gave for soap laundry and for my coffee...

I still need money and job!!

2:11 pm

Oh! Shit...My fucking dysmenorrhea is returning... I'm bleeding heavily again...

I still need a job and money... Still,having windblow... I feel bitter!!!

Am I talking to--Kausap ko ba si?

But I have "deep smile lines"....I feel ugly and fat!

Am I talking with-- Nakikipag-usap ba ako kay?

I really wanna see my Rock in ilocos....See those some plastics Rocks and Pebbles...

3:30 pm

Should I post yehey! Someone just called me from "Conduent" that we were doing the final interview and the girl told me that I was hired and just wait for the mail....

Conduent girl who called me awhile ago and told me that I was hired this was her mobile number here in the Philippines 0908- 886-1234.

Yehey! I will have a job in a lil while... Thank God! Probably will start on 18...

I have windblow... Windblow...

Just being defensive:

Am I talking to? -- Nakikipag-usap ba ako kay?

Am I talking with? --Kinakausap ko ba si...

Is that call real or someone in Cavite is just spying me??? Cavite is always spying me angels Is that call real???

5:59 pm

I still have windblow and I feel bitter... I wanna control my jealousy but it is here in my heart now coz they don't like me... Nobody wants me... 16 years I didn't see my fucking missing old friends as well as Mitch... But I want her trap!

But if Mitch met Borgy it is fucking bullshit!!! I wanna fair fight... Choose in-front of me Borgy!

Again, the choosing part, I don't get it!!!

Till I hear it from Borgy!

Sometimes, we need to stand-up Borgy! You need to use your backbone...

Come on then oops a daisy Borgy!!

7:23 pm

Now, I received the job offer from conduent via mail... My problem is money, my starting money to start my job, my family is not that ohkay now or not that supportive enough when it comes to me...

I really wanna cry... Not my ideal life to start a job that Uncle DD repeated me on a poorish ways...

Like what I posted from the past months there were middle-class in call center.. My case is different someone put a spell on me or control my life since 2007 or someone put a " simple battery on me"...

9:23 pm

This is my job offer but my money, I'm thinking, nobody in the family has extra money now...

My main problem nobody in the family has the ability to assist me... Where will I get money?

10:27 pm

Done, watching "Leave the world behind" it is weird the end song is FRIENDS!

Still, have windblow... I feeel bitterish,panicky, and I need money...

10:32 pm

Windblow...Windblow...

I feel self-pity in so many different reasons...

[youcanseethecosmos]

More Thoughts on my Dreamling Actors AU

Dream and his siblings are still called The Endless and they all go by their "stage" names. Does anyone know their last names? Nope. Do they even have last names? We'll never know! But damn are they good actors

Desire and Dream are their resident movie stars. Death and Delirium are more into musical theater but dabble in TV shows every now and then. Destruction solely does indie films and is a fantastic character actor. Destiny had retired from acting and is now a director/producer. Despair does voice acting.

When The Endless have a family dinner, it's the subject of entertainment news for weeks. Something always happens.

Their parents once met on a movie set — a noir film that included all the cliches.

Dream's first movie role got him nominated for an Oscar. This pisses off Desire who didn't get a nomination until their 5th movie.

Hob got into acting after he took a free acting masterclass from one of his colleagues at his university. He fell in love with it and decided to go "fuck it, ive got nothing left to lose!"

Hob's first movie with Dream was a period piece set in the 1300's. He was supposed to just be an extra but the director — who happened to be Destiny — liked him enough to give him a few scenes with Dream to see how it would work out. Hob shot up to stardom after that

Everyone always asks him what it's like to work with Dream so often. What he's like behind the scenes and if Dream gave him any advice because he's a new actor yada yada yada

His PR team always tells him to be polite and not say what he's thinking because they know he doesn't actually like Dream. Where he tells people it's an honor and a privilege to be acting alongside someone like him, he really wants to say that he wants to throw himself off a cliff whenever he's in the renowned actor's presence.

Hob thinks him selfish, arrogant, self-centered, and has a stick so far up his ass he wears it as a fucking hat.

But he can't say that or else he'll never work in this industry ever again.

Meanwhile Dream has grown fond of Hob Gadling. He always enjoys working with newer actors rather than seasoned veterans because they bring such fresh perspectives and a new way of going about different scenes.

But Dream is the most socially awkward man in existence when the cameras stop rolling.

When he wants to tell Hob that he did a good job, what comes out of his mouth is "I believe you could do better."

When he wants to say to Hob that their scene together showed really good chemistry, he ends up saying "Your collar was askew the whole time."

Literally he CANNOT for the life of him talk to Hob Gadling without sounding like an ABSOLUTE piece of shit. And it's FRUSTRATING because he WANTS to talk to Hob without giving him unwanted acting advice but he just blurts them out without thinking.

He just hopes Hob doesn't hate him for it

(spoiler alert: he does)

ayt i'll stop here first bc woo i have a lot of thoughts about it. might make other posts about this au soon bc its consumed my brain 24/7 xoxo

[lollytea]

I know you like the idea of Grom King Gus so, how do you think Mat would react? Like, obviously, at this point, he's seen Gus defeat much scarier things than Grom so it's not like he's actually worried. But at the same time, this totally ruined his plans!

(Also, how cute would Gus look in the Grom tiara? He'd look so good)

You think King is doing the commentary alone this time or is someone else stepping in to do the commentary for Gus?

Oooooh the HCs this ask filled my head with.

Okay okay so let's just assume that by the time this grom takes place, Gus is 14. This makes Matt 15 and by this point he has a terrible crush on Gus but hasn't actually realized it yet.

(Hunter: I'm gonna tell him.

Amity: Don't you dare.)

ANYWAY I don't think Matt really cares about grom all that much. At least not in the way other kids seem to care about it. He's excited for an opportunity to have the whole student body (and teachers) all in the gym together so he can wreak some havoc. Pranks, photobombing, usual Mattholomule business. And also he's usually pretty hyped to see the Grometheus battle.

But yeah pranks are the main allure of the evening. It hasn't even occured to him to ask anybody, as he just automatically assumes he'll be rejected. Doesn't bother him much cuz there's nobody he's even interested in. (Sure, okay.) He did try to talk Gus into being his partner in crime this year but unfortunately the little dork likes his MC job way too much. If Matt was disappointed by this, he didn't let himself think about it too much.

So yeah when Gus is declared Grom King, nothing about Matt's plans really change as Gus was unavailable in the first place. But no I do think he would worry about Gus. At least a little. Grometheus seems like a formidable opponent to even the strongest witches so even the likes of Willow are afraid of him. That being said, Grometheus has been beaten before and he'll be beaten again. So Matt knows Gus can subdue him for another year. But it's still a little anxiety inducing for everyone, Gus included.

Gus sometimes does this thing where he magnifies the smaller problems so he doesn't get overwhelmed by the big one. So most of his feelings over being Grom King is focusing on how disappointed he is that he can't be the MC this year. And it's made even worse when he learns who's gonna replace him.

"Since when are you interested in being the Master of Ceremonies?!" Gus demands.

Mattholomule shrugs. "I get to be the center of attention for a while. I get a microphone and everyone in the gym has to listen to me run my mouth. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Plus you really don't expect poor widdle King to fly solo, do you?"

Truthfully, King had approached Mattholomule and asked. I like to believe that the two get along pretty well and King didn't want to host the event with a stranger.

Gus's eyes narrow and he immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion of MC!Matt. Like "You're gonna use this position to make fun of me during the battle, aren't you?"

Matt only responds with a shit eating grin and a vague "Hmmm. Would I do that?"

"Yes you would! You totally would!!"

We must acknowledge that Matt is a bit of a bitch. Is it a shitty move to spend the next few days sowing seeds of paranoia within your best friend cuz he keeps thinking about all the ways you could publicly embarrass him in front of the whole school? Yeah it is.

However Matt isn't all that good at being a good supportive friend and comforting Gus during his time of need. He's definitely been forced to try every now and again, but his attempts are always awkward. This is really the only way he knows how to "help."

Gus has been so busy these last few days running up to Mattholomule between classes, blowing up his scroll with messages and showing up on his doorstep all to lay out the ground rules on what he is not allowed to say.

("And don't you dare call me a squirt, I mean it, Matt. And-and I know that Grometheus is gonna show everybody some of my dumber fears like clowns and stuff. Now I told you why those things scare me in confidence, so I don't need you blabbing about it to the whole school. Mattholomule....stop smirking at me like that. Mattholomule, what are you planning? I'm fucking serious. Promise me you won't be a jerk. Promise...")

Essentially, in keeping Gus in a state of annoyance at Matt, he hasn't had a chance think about the battle itself and spiral over it. Matt, in his assholish little way, is keeping Gus's mind off the big whopping nerve wracking thing by distracting him with little nerve wracking things.

Plus maybe he likes getting so much of Gus's attention. But he's not gonna think about that.

Anyway, by the time the Grometheus duel finally comes, Gus is resigned to the fact that Matt is gonna embarrass him a bit. Like he knows he's not awful enough to spill every one of his secrets in front of everybody but he's a massive bitch so Gus knows he's gonna do something. And at this point, as he's standing in the arena, waiting for the Fear Bringer itself to awaken, he's accepted his fate. Okay Matt, do your worst. He's just gonna have to get this battle over with fast so it doesn't last too long. Oh...actually he should probably focus on that battle, right now, huh? Oh. Oh holy shit he's about to fight Grometheus. Holy shit HOLY SHIT.

A strike of terror overcomes Gus's body as the reality of the situation catches up to him and all thoughts of Mattholomule fly out of his brain (took him long enough.)

And then, as the creature begins sluggishly slinking out of the shadows, still not fully awake, and Gus draws himself to his full height, knees shaking, but desperately trying to pscyhe himself up for blood and gore, that loud, obnoxious voice rings out over everything.

"Well folks, looks like it's rise and shine for our buddy, Grometheus and he's ready to spread fear. Unfortunately for him, he's about to come face-to-face with our very own Augustus Porter. I'm sure we all know Gus. Tell us a little about the man of the hour, King.

"You know him! You love him! Gus the illusion master! The speed demon of the Emerald Entrails! Founder and President of the Human Appreciation Society!"

"And all around dork, lets not forget that part. But here's the kicker, folks. Augustus Porter happens to be one of the most powerful witches Hexside has ever known. I feel kinda bad for Grometheus. Poor sucker has no idea what he's up against."

Gus cannot see Mattholomule from where he's currently standing but he hopes he can see him. He wants him to see the bright smile that splits Gus's face. He wants him to know that Gus can see right through him. He feels a bit silly for constantly being tricked into forgetting but Mattholomule is a softie and Gus knows it.

Gus is grinning ear-to-ear as he plunges into the fight. As the battle rages on, illusion against illusion, Matt and King keep up with rapid-fire commentary. There is never a moment that implies Mattholomule feels anything but ferocious support for Gus.

And then...with one final resort, Gus lifts the pendant that hangs around his neck and history is made.

It's all a blur. Mattholomule could hardly recall the details of what happened in that moment if you asked. Maybe it was simply too unbelievable to fully process.

The deafening crowd flatlines into silence.

Gus raises his head and looks upward, as though lost and confused, and the electric blue glow dims from his eyes. He is as shocked as anyone.

Grometheus the Fear Bringer, who tormented the Boiling Isles for centuries, has been defeated.

No...Grometheus the Fear Bringer has been slain. Destroyed by the wave of horror Augustus Porter had inflicted on it.

It's over.

Not a soul in the crowd can speak a word, nor can the MCs.

Heartbeats can be heard.

Until finally, Mattholomule, his hands trembling as he grips his mic, says breathlessly "Let's....let's give it up for Gus..."

Grometheus the Fear Bringer had been killed by Gus, making him...

"Gus the Fear Bringer..." The reverent words unintentionally tumble out of Mattholomule's mouth. An observation not meant to be spoken aloud, but the title fills the silence with the power of a microphone.

One two three seconds...

And the crowd goes absolutely fucking insane.

Gus the Fear Bringer.

Anyway I think Grom King Gus dressed like a star, standing on the dance floor under all those glittering lights, surrounded by friends and fans alike, wearing that beautiful tiara and smiling like that very well might have given Matt his "Oh." moment. Maybe.

I also like to believe that, similarly to how the school became obsessed with Willow once she began to really bloom, Grom was a turning point for Gus's popularity. All of a sudden, Hexside was overrun by Gus fever. People wanted to be his friend, they wanted his autograph, plenty even had crushes on him.

If Matt hadn't fully accepted what he was feeling yet, he might have just taken his jealousy and molded it into something he could understand. Basically he just rolls his eyes at the whole school crushing on Gus. I mean, really?? Gus?? Gus is a dork, get some taste.

My brother in Christ, YOU get some taste!!

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.���

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

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[hoaqins-funk-house]

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

Part 1

Sitting in the black swivel chair, you spin once or twice before coming to a stop, grimacing at the feeling of sticky floors beneath your shoes. This place is brand new, how the hell are the floors sticky? 

Actually, on that note, how is everything so covered in dust?

Sighing, your mindless fidgeting comes to a stop as the phone, just as dinky as the walls around you, begins to ring. You pick it up but put it back on the table, eyes drifting to the laptop and swing-out tablet. When you flip the former open, you note the four buttons, each relating to something you would have to reset when it comes time to. The latter has cameras that are scattered around, including a separate tab for vents. There’s an option to block off vents, which sends a chill up your spine as you glance to the big ass one at your side.

You decide to block that one off for now.

Humming, you familiarize yourself with the layout of the place, deciding to ignore the shadows that crept through your vision.

Your unenthused eyes scan and take in everything. The replicas (you had seen the originals, and they were permanently stained with both the smell and color of pizza sauce and lawsuits) that were in and around the office, as well as the little bobbleheads that sat on your desk of the animatronics, which were, for some reason, human? You boop the one who you assume to be Freddy, hearing the familiar squeak. 

A small smile comes to your lips.

It was at this time that you realized you had completely ignored the man on the phone, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. 

The little drawings that were put up were authentic; not just anyone could recreate what a child's mind spits out and decides to draw. 

That Freddy looks a bit fucked up.

The posters were cutely designed, and after getting the gist of what everything was and how everything works, you were on your phone the rest of the night.

When six strikes, you casually leave, giving the building a quick once over as you leave the doors, locking them behind you.

If every night is going to be like that, this is going to get boring.

-

He’s stuck.

This suit traps him like a rabid dog, eager to stay gripped onto his neck.

Still, things would be changing soon.

He can feel it.

He can feel it as a fresh breeze, the first in many years, hits his nostrils, sending a wave of euphoria through his system. The bloodied musk that hung in the dank room was not a pleasant one.

He can feel it as his body accepts this new host, more and more, until soon, quite soon, he will become one with his vessel. 

Just as the animatronics before him did.

He ponders. 

Why was he being freed from this prison of his own design?

Is he being taken somewhere?

…

Will there be a night guard to terrorize?

A grin takes to his broken lips as he ignores the pain and blood that comes from them. Oh, a night guard! Truly, that will be a sight!

He can't wait. 

For now, however, he must play dead.

My, that voice that shouts with excitement from behind him…

It sounds so familiar.

"Bring the truck around!" He calls. "I found one, a real one! It's got the rips, the weird colors, and what I am going to assume is pizza sauce! Ohohoh man, I hit the jackpot with this one! Fazbear's Fright needed something, and here it is!" 

His congratulatory tone made the man within the suit want to throw up. Finding him was nothing to be happy about; he is despicable, incapable of redemption, and an awful being. 

And you know what? 

That's just the way he likes it.

So to have someone happy to find him, especially for their own purposes?

He won't let it stand. 

Yeah, if this place has a nightguard, he'll kill them without mercy before burning the entire thing to the ground.

Might as well make it fun for himself.

As light peeks through, clearly originating from a flashlight, he feels his pupils shrink, resisting the urge to let out a groan as his weak eyes ache from their decades of being in the dark.

"Whoahoh! This one looks gnarly!" The same man as before speaks, probably referencing the organs and tendons that were showing. "C'mon, let's get it up!"

His grin only grows as two people lift him onto a dolly, beginning the move.

Goodbye, saferoom.

And hello, Fazbear's Fright.

-

Humming, you walk into the building, skimming over the decorations once more before noticing something.

The papers that had fallen onto the ground from before, they had dirt on them. Not surprising on its own, but when they were in the shape of tire tracks? 

You decide to follow them, using your memory of the cameras to guide you through the building, which was already rather linear anyway.

Entering the last area, you could see a rather dilapidated animatronic suit, with organs visible and its fur matted with blood. Real blood. The old Springbonnie suit was nearly green from how old and dirty it was.

Your eyebrows raise. "Is that guy just stupid or did he knowingly bring in a suit that has a dead body in it?"

Honestly, you didn't care. "Eh, whatever. It'll probably start moving when I start my shift… I've heard those rumors about the other locations." You turn, stretching, unaware of the eyes that followed you or the head that turned your way.

Damn, does he want to kill this one?

Well, he can think it over more soon. After the merge.

He grins again, feeling his uneven, gouged skin begin to flare with pain.

You exit the room fully, making your way back to the office with all the urgency of an ADHD-riddled person doing laundry.

Which is to say… not much.

You fall into the chair, cursing as the thin mesh cushion does nothing to protect your tailbone from the metal frame of the chair. The phone rings not a moment later, you picking it up and laying it on the table again, eager to ignore it just as you had done before. You stretch again, arms raising above your head as you begin to flip through cameras, finding the rabbit in the same spot it was in before. 

You yawn.

Hopefully it starts moving soon, or else the entire reason you took this job would be unfulfilled. 

You were bored, and you remembered this place from the times you had gone with your younger brother, who was now in his early twenties. You, however, were 28 years of age, with nothing better to do than 'investigate' the Fazbear's Fright that opened up. Still, if that rabbit has a corpse in it, it should make things more fun.

As you lazily flip through your cameras, you set it down and look to the side, seeing a rather dirty looking man with an eyepatch and fox ears. To his confusion, before he could lunge at you, you reach out and swipe a hand through his chest. You continue to swipe forwards and backwards, the incorporeal man stuck standing there until you leaned back.

"So, you're a ghost."

His mouth opens as if to retort, but he just gives up and leaps at you, you not even looking at him anymore. He closes his mouth halfway through the jump, and with an unsatisfied sigh, he disappears.

You continue flipping through the cameras, checking in on the rabbit a couple of times before shoving the tablet out of the way, opening the laptop to have it ready and sitting back in your chair.

You glance towards a shifting figure in front of the window, the hat and bear ears telling of who it is. He limps along, eventually falling beneath your view before seemingly phasing through the wall and leaping at you. You stare passively as he does so, him not completing the jump to instead stand in front of you, confused. 

For shits and giggles, you wave your hand through his chest once or twice.

"Why… aren't you… scared?" He croaks, voice ruined from years of no use.

"Oh, was I supposed to be scared?" You genuinely ask. "Uh, sorry. If you do it again I promise I'll hyperventilate."

"Don't try to… lessen your survival chances…"

"Okay. My bad." 

He sighs, and after annoyedly rubbing his face, he disappears.

You flip out your cameras once more, finding the screen obscured by static and a small error in the center. Lazily, you reset cams.

When your screen clears, you check the rabbit. He looks… strange. Like his body is evolving in front of your eyes. 

To be honest, you don't give enough of a shit to watch a potentially world-changing discovery if it looks that gross. You aren't paid enough to, anyway.

At this pay grade, you even coming into the damn building is volunteer work.

You check your phone for the time, seeing a cool time of one in the morning. 

"Aside from that science experiment gone wrong happening in the back room, it's still really damn boring."

However, it's still not boring enough to watch that transformation or whatever. That corpse (well, at this point, you kinda doubt it's dead) can do whatever the hell he wants with that suit. It's his body, not your business.

After another fifteen minutes of staring at a wall, you check the cameras to the sound of loud clicks and pops, now seeing a heavily scarred man with 1.5 rabbit ears in place of the suit. He takes one step out from his original spot, body heaving forward before he lifts himself up, looking up at the camera with a grin.

"Huh. That's new." You say, watching him jolt forward, continuing to take steps before relearning how to walk smoothly.

It only takes him a moment to rocket off.

"I doubt that's good." You mumble, beginning to flip through the cameras to follow him before playing a sound in the room behind him, making him pause. He turns, walking back with a confused expression.

Continuing to flip through cameras, you watch as the man, who you'll dub Rabbit Guy, wanders, seemingly having lost his focus. Hearing a sound to your left, you pay no heed to whoever it is, instead waggling your hand in what you would assume to be their torso.

"You're strange…" They say.

"Uh-huh. If you'd excuse me, I am currently working on keeping Rabbit Guy the hell away from me." Your voice is monotonous but sincere; you aren't trying to be sarcastic or mean, just trying to tell them the facts.

Glancing to the side, you see that it was a child, so you were waving your hand in his collar. "Oh, my bad. Does that… make you guys uncomfortable?" You ask, retracting your hand.

"No, we can't feel it." 

"Huh." You blandly respond, playing the sounds to lead Rabbit Guy back to where he started, before resetting sounds as you weren't able to play them anymore.

It seems like Rabbit Guy is getting progressively more and more annoyed at being led back, if his attempts to move fast enough to avoid the sounds or block out his ears meant anything. 

His body was responding to the sounds, not him.

It was then that he disappeared, so you check vents, finding him in one that led directly to the room beside your office.

You block it off, much to his annoyance, before yawning and sitting back as any thumps you hear from inside the vents come to a stop. 

You find him standing in the room where he had entered the vent, irritated as he glares at the camera. Preemptively, you reset all, thankfully right as cams and sound go out. 

Sighing, you lazily check through cameras, brows slightly furrowing as you look for him. He was completely gone, not in vents or in rooms. It really is unfortunate how many blind spots and shadowed areas there are.

When you hear the thumping of the vents, you search through them, only finding a stupid knick-knack laying on its side halfway in your sight.

Looking to your side, you peek into the vent, leaning down to see if anything was there. Your gaze meets Rabbit Guy's. 

"Shit." You say, quickly switching cams over to this one and holding down the seal button. 

Your eyes shift back to him, finding him way too close for comfort. As you lift your finger to let the gate close on the vent, the man (who was crouch walking) catches it, forcing it back up. You hear something grind that definitely shouldn't be grinding, and you have a feeling that that vent cover just might be broken.

Getting out of the vent, he stands over you, waiting for some sort of plea or… literally any response at all.

"So, you, uh… come here often?" You ask, leaving him genuinely at a loss. 

"Wh- was that a pickup line?" His rough, baritone voice catches you slightly off-guard. 

You weren't expecting something that was pretty much a zombie to have such a good voice, or a slight british accent for that matter. "Was it? Shit, more people've flirted with me than I thought."

"Really? That's all you can come up with before your death? I'd hate for those to be your final words." He lightly teases, leaning against the wall with a mean grin. 

You look up at the ceiling with a vague smile, his eyes widening momentarily. "To be honest, of any place to die, I'd much rather have it be in a place where I know I'll reach the front pages than in some random alley."

His grin falls into a frown as he watches you turn to him, the smile still on your face. It feels strange.

He feels strange. 

Why does a random night guard make him feel so…

So… comfortable?

You were calm, collected, not making any sudden moves or even attempting to exit the chair. Theoretically, the perfect prey, but not a satisfying kill. 

If he even wants to kill you, that is.

“What’s your name?” He asks, watching as you spin to face him in your chair. You would be taller if you stood, but he would still have a few inches on you.

“Y/N. You?” 

“I’m… William. Or, rather, I was, when I was well and truly human.”

“And now?” You ask.

“I don’t exactly have a name.”

“Can I still call you William, then? Well, if I live long enough to do so?” You ask, eyes moving up to meet his. Looking up at him like that… He wishes the hot feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.

“...Fine.”

“I mean… are you going to kill me?” You ask, face not shifting as he glares down at you. 

“I won’t kill you on the first night, you need to give me more entertainment.” At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, so we’re both here for the same reason.” You blankly say, his face contorting from a glare to confusion once more.

“You’re here… for entertainment?” He slowly asks, answered by your nod.

“I’m certainly not here for the pay. This place gives like half of minimum wage but I can’t complain about it because the other part is supposed to come from tips. Somehow.”

“How do you even live?” 

“Well, right now I’m on an paid leave due to some unfortunate deaths in my family. To be honest, I never really cared for any of them, but hey. I’ll take any chance for a break I can. Then I got bored.”

He huffs out a laugh. “So you went to another job on your break?”

“Listen, getting a month off leaves a man with little to do when capitalism has left me with no hobbies. Besides, this gives me a great excuse to continue avoiding people.”

His lips curl into an amused grin as he leans forward, lowering his head to be eye level with yours. "Well, you won't be avoiding me." He practically purrs, you averting your eyes at the tone he uses. 

Why would he say it like that?! 

His golden eyes follow you as you close the laptop's screen, enjoying your reaction. You…

He'll keep you around. 

You're entertaining and friendly. Open, and… warm.

He wonders. 

You're human, and fully alive. He's a revived corpse who merged with his vessel. You probably are very warm compared to him.

When he comes back to his senses, he notices you slowly raising out of your seat, hand outstretched towards him. 

Well, might as well take the chance.

He grabs your wrist, looking down at you unimpressed. You quietly huff, falling back into your chair and forcing him to move away from the wall in order to not dislocate your wrist.

Well, his hypothesis is correct. You are very warm. 

He feels the tightening in his gut, not wanting to let go but knowing that he will have to.

You, however, don't actually care either way. You begin your attempt again, this time with your left hand. Slowly raising out of your seat, you actually manage to stand fully up before he notices again, grabbing your other wrist. 

"What are you even trying to do?" He asks, a light sneer on his lips.

"Well... uh, I was trying to… boop your nose? If you're bonded with one of the original suits, then I figured either you or Fredbear would have the sound effect."

He lets out a few short laughs, his sneer replaced with the same amused grin as before.

"I'm afraid neither of us have the sound effect. That only came about with the second and third generations of animatronics."

You hum, interested.

His eyes quickly scan over you, taking in your form. This position, practically holding you hostage… Needless to say, he didn't dislike it.

Still, he releases you as he catches you glancing at what he assumes to be a phone. Things have advanced quite far since he was trapped. 

You turn it on quickly, checking the time. “Well, we have around an hour and a half before my shift ends, so…” Pausing, you check the time again. An hour and a half?

He steps closer, you glancing back up at him before leaning back as he leans forward, looming over you. “Tomorrow, you best make this more fun for me. I’ll greet you, but then I’ll head to the back. Try and stop me from getting in.”

“Uh, sure. Are you still planning on making the punishment for loss, uh, death?”

His eyes narrow in coordination with a widening grin. “That’s for me to know. You either figure it out, or you don’t. It all depends how well you play.” His gruff voice slightly echoes in the mostly empty building, you nodding in response. 

“Oh, cool. Can I tell my brother about you?” You ask suddenly, him quirking a brow as he stares down at you, easily at least half a foot taller than you. He was always tall, but now that he’s in this new form, he grew to be somewhere from 6’6 to 6’8. You sit down once more, exacerbating the height difference.

“Feel free to. Just know that if he ever comes around here, he won’t be alive for very long.”

“I doubt he will. He’s always preferred Foxy the most because he has taste, but-”

“Taste? For liking that liability-strewn fox? You like him as well?”

“To be honest, I never really liked any of them more than the other. I was in my emo phase when I went to see them, so it was practically illegal for me to like anything. But Foxy had sharp teeth and a wicked lookin’ hook, so… I guess I did.”

He hums, clearly slightly annoyed.

“Are you jealous that I liked the fox more than the rabbit that isn’t even the same generation as you?”

“I really should kill you.” His irritated expression shows the truth to your statement.

“It’s okay, I’m willing to call Springbonnie my favorite.”

Now, William was confused. Your tone… you weren’t joking. You were being genuine about something as stupid as this? What is with you?

“You’re very confusing. I think you joke, and then I listen to your tone and you’re genuine. But still, I wouldn’t mind if you did so.”

“It’s not nearly as confusing as how time passes in this place. It’s been like ten minutes since I met you but the clock says like three or four hours have passed.”

“What? Really?” His brows furrow as he steps closer, finding another excuse to close the distance between you both as he leans over the chair, seeing you pointing to the screen. “How strange…”

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem like tomorrow’s hunt will last for six hours, then. Thankfully.” You sigh.

“What, do you not want to feel like my prey for six hours straight?” He grins, leaning over further until his arm rests on your shoulder.

You shiver. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Because it makes you react, obviously. It’s entertaining to watch you squirm from something as simple as... the tone of my voice.” Of course, in order to prove his point, he does exactly what he did before, lowering his voice a few pitches and upping the growliness of it.

In covering your eyes, you also cover your cheeks, which have gained a slight flush. “William, I am begging you. Please, please, please, stop talking like that.”

And, naturally progressing, he was left somewhat stunned by the sound of your pleading tone. There’s just something about it, especially as you say his name, that makes him want to…

...makes him want to chase, and capture, and possess forever.

You as his prized prey, and him as the hunter.

“I’ll use it when necessary.” He vaguely answers, watching your head droop.

“I’ll take what I can get.” You concede breathily. 

He chuckles, hearing the chime of a bell, signifying 6 in the morning. "Well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then. Don't keep me waiting."

"Asshole. I won't." You turn your head away from him, hiding the flush on your face, and stand up, stretching. "See ya, William."

He hums, eyes tracing your form as you stretch. It was a nice view, watching the button up shirt crease around your back as you stretch, clearly hinting at the muscle beneath. His eyes did drift lower once or twice, and that's how he figures out that damn, you have a really nice ass!

You begin to walk out, and he follows you with his eyes, watching you turn past the replica Freddy husk and unlock the door, exiting into the fresh morning. His eyelids droop, gaze slipping up as his lips curl into a wide grin.

“Y/N… I won’t kill you. Especially not when I’m presented with such an ample opportunity to make this into something so entertaining.” 

Well…

Is that the only reason?

Of course, he knows it isn’t.

His grin falls, leaving him coldly leering at the aged panels above him before his sight shifts back to the room around him. As he exits the office, he glances at the stained and shaded glass of the door, not allowing much, if any, light in. He turns away, heading back to where he was originally.

As he walks, he lets his form shift, feeling his body grow to his previous monster rabbit self, the creaks of his metal joints loud in the silent building. 

He ignores any shadows that creep in the edges of his vision, the specters traversing without sound. 

“This is going to be… boring.” His voice, far rougher than before, comes out unfeeling and croaky. As he returns to his previous position, slouching over once more, he decides to use his old tactic to pass time; inflicting enough pain on himself to fall unconscious. It doesn’t matter if his dreams are infested with darkness, nor how much he suffers in them. 

It was better than the boredom of sitting in one position with an unchanging environment.

He begins forcing his muscles to flex and strain within the suit and pull against the beams they have welded to, making him grit his teeth before the searing pain fades away, along with his vision.

Goodnight, Y/N.

-

“Yo.” You greet your brother, the man tiredly yawning as he ruffles his hair.

“Heya, Y/N. What’re you up so early for?” 

“Well, I got bored and got a night shift job at this dinky little horror attraction opening up next week. I decided to tell you about what happened there before I head off to sleep.”

“You got bored during a break from your job so you… got another job?”

“Y’know, William said the same thing.” You say, your brother narrowing his eyes at you.

“A coworker?” He asks. 

“Eh, not quite… he is the reason I stayed up to talk to you, though.”

He hums, walking around the couch you were splayed on with your shirt half unbuttoned. 

“So, to begin my tale, you remember Freddy’s? The pizzeria with the animatronics?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“Well the horror place I went to is based off of that; it’s filled with replicas and a few actual things from the pizzerias of the past, but something came in tonight that was… different.”

“Which was?”

“An animatronic. One of the originals, Springbonnie. Granted, the suit was ripped to shit and covered in enough dirt to be green, but it was authentic. It even has the dead body! Well - not so dead body, but still visible.”

“Did you call the cops?” He asks, worried.

“Hell no! I’m not paid enough to give a shit about what could-or-could-not-be a dead body. Either way, he transformed into a human, which was rather odd, but-”

“Just to be clear, this rabbit had a dead body inside and transformed into a human, and you don’t question it?”

“No. Continuing on, he got into my office and then we talked for a bit, I learned that his name is William, time passed really weirdly, and then we struck a deal where I have to keep him out of my office or I'll maybe die.”

“You’re still going back there?! And ‘maybe die?!’”

“Yeah, he said the knowledge about whether or not I die from losing the hunt was ‘for him to know.’ I didn’t question it further.” 

“You know, Y/N, sometimes it feels like I’m the older sibling. You’re fucking stupid.”

“I’m well aware.”

He leans over the couch, glaring down at you. “Then wisen up and quit that damn job.”

“I’m good. William is good company.”

“He threatened to kill you!”

“And? He hasn’t. Yet.”

“You infuriate me, gayboy.” He says, stepping away from the couch.

“Cool. I’ll sleep here for now, when you get back from work I’ll definitely be up.”

“Whatever.” He waves his hand at you, ignoring the middle finger pointing his direction from behind the couch’s back.

---

Part 2

also a lot of the stuff i write from now on may be male reader inserts lol

heres my springtrap design

here's the updated design lol

[xpeachesncream]

restart | four

[ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG ] | [ series masterlist ]

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy, lots of insecurities and overthinking, angst, crying, bar scene, alcohol consumption, flashback scene in the middle of the chapter, a lil sprinkle of fluff, implied sexual content, bickering/arguments

note: honestly, this was ALSO not supposed to get this long but like… 🙃 here we are lol

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @sapphirejeon​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Okay, I think that's it." You said, hands on your hips as you and Jungkook walked through your door for the final time.

"What are you selling, the world?" He huffs and puffs.

"For someone who works out often, you complain a lot." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Where's Tae?"

"Sleeping still." He nods.

"Oh, okay. Ready to go then?" You nodded silently as you grabbed your bag to hitch a ride to the café with Jungkook since he was working today. He starts to talk about the girl who works with you two and how he thinks she's a little cutiepie. He has such a silly crush on her that his cheeks are lightly rose tinted every time he talks about certain encounters they've had. You're happy to see him happy, and you tell him to keep pursuing it since she's a super sweet girl. However, part of you is sad solely because you couldn't say you were 100% happy at this moment. You wish you were, but these problems were hindering you from feeling complete. You just wanted to get past this page in the book.

As soon as you both get to the cafe, you start unloading his trunk and getting everything inside. Jungkook claims he has the last two bags covered, so you walk to the back and take breather just to gather yourself before setting up. But you truly didn't expect to lose it right then and there.

"Okay! I got all the— Y/N?" Jungkook instantly worries when he sees you crying into your hands in the backroom and hurries over to you. "Hey, woah. What's going on?" He gets in front of you, gently trying to pry your hands off of your face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You continue to cry as he successfully removes your hands from your face.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" He wipes your tears with his sweater and lifts your chin to look at you in the eye.

"Nothing."

"The day barely started and you're already crying in the backroom." He says softly. "Don't try and lie to me."

"I just don't know what's going on between me and Tae and it's stressing me out."

"What's going on? Same stuff?" You nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You tell him about how he had been super weird about taking Jimin's help and how you both got into a huge argument about it. Then, you told him how last night ended [sparing your poor bestfriend the details] and how you couldn't help but feel used because he simply dismissed you, which is very unlike Taehyung when it comes to arguments and disagreements. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know he's going through a rough time, but Tae also needs to respect you and look at you as his partner, not someone who's also attacking him or against him. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No." Simply, no. Because you never get your friends involved like that. You just don't, no matter how much they wanna help. "He looks at me like I am, especially after this whole Jimin thing. I don't wanna say it's stupid because I don't wanna discredit his feelings, but god. Like, should I just do this on my own? Tell Jimin to forget it?"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're already getting a good start on your goals, Y/N. Don't let that go because of everything going on. Give him some time and space."

"I have been. For awhile now." You sat, feeling completely defeated already, tears still coming down your cheeks.

"Here, I'll go set up and I can take over the table for a bit. I'll ask Isabella if she can cover for a quick second." He stands in front of you, hands out to help support you as if you had lost your footing.

"No, I'll be fine—"

"Y/N, just sit. Okay?" He gives off a small sigh. "Just sit for a second and let yourself take a breather." He gently sits you down and makes sure you don't get up by slowly backing away from you.

"Kook, this isn't Marco Polo."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't run off because you're stubborn!"

"Hey!" Isabella comes running in, a little confused as to what's happening.

"Hey, can you cover me at the front for a bit?" Jungkook stands back upright in a normal position to ask her sweetly, hands tucked behind his back as he bounced on his feet. This boy.

"Yeah, of course Jungkook." She blushes.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." He gives you a quick look before dashing off. You lay your head onto your arms as they rest on the table, a small headache forming at the center of your forehead.

"You okay, Y/N?" Isabella asks softly as she puts her things away.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a really weird day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." You feel her hand caress your back. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She says before shuffling herself out of the room. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on with you, and why you were feeling this way. You were just so sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

This was slowly taking a toll on you, and you weren't even sure if Taehyung realized what he was doing was hurting you in the process.

He can't say he does.

Tae set the weights down back onto the rack aggressively before sitting on the bench, watching Jimin finish his set. They had been working out after lunch, Jimin calling him shortly after Taehyung had fully woken up.

"Are you gonna go to the café after this?" Tae shrugged.

"I don't know, Y/N said she didn't need help and wouldn't be there all day."

"You won't even visit for a bit?" Jimin asks. Usually Tae was rushing to get back to you, but he knew everything that had been going on had been affecting your relationship to an extent.

"We'll see."

"You two coming to the bars tonight then?"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"Nothing. Just getting together like old times. I told Kook, Hobi and Yoongi. They're down." Tae nodded.

"Joon, too?"

"Joon, too."

"Me and Y/N will probably go but I don't think we'll stay long. She has to do that thing at the school—" He scratched his head. "The thing— the exhibit and talking to incoming art students or whatever." Jimin chuckled at how Tae couldn't get his words out.

"It's not whatever."

"You know that's not what I mean." Tae rolled his eyes at him, annoyed all over again at how Jimin had been kissing your ass lately. Cause fuck, the way Jimin had been painting himself as a knight in shining armor, an angel even, was pissing him the fuck off. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to support you, or like you couldn't turn to him for help. He hated that feeling, even though he had been rude as hell and showing it in a different way.

"That's fine. Just come out and hang out for a bit." Jimin sighed as he sat on the bench next to him, drinking some water before placing the bottle back down on the ground. "You two doing okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think we aren't?" Tae asks, getting defensive. Jimin quickly eyes him, reading his body language. He knew Taehyung so well - so fucking well that he knew almost immediately when things were taking a toll on him. Things liiiike.. his parents. As a prime example. Jimin knew Taehyung and his parents obviously didn't have the best relationship, and he knew he took things to heart whenever his father got on him about stupid shit [just like he did over that dinner]. Taehyung wasn't one to show emotion much; he liked showing people he was mentally tough and that he could handle whatever came his way. For the most part, it was true. But, Jimin and Namjoon also knew he wasn't always like that, especially when it came to things that mattered the most to him - his family and you. Taehyung hated to admit it but his family's opinion of him was important no matter what. He was hard on himself because he wanted them to be proud. He wanted to actually feel like he had been doing something good for once. He was still longing for that feeling no matter what he said or did. It was a never-ending battle; like a plot with no happy ending in sight.

"I'm just asking." Jimin threw up his hands, showing that he wasn't suggesting anything behind the harmless question.

"We're fine. I know she's been stressed lately because of work and her art."

"Mmm."

"It's funny." Taehyung chuckles at himself.

"What's funny?" Jimin laughed a bit, confused.

"I didn't expect to be caught up in her like this. After Hana, messing around with all these girls. She's my fucking fiancé."

"Yeah and you better not fuck that up." Jimin stands to gather his things.

"You sound like my dad." Tae jokes, even though he was pretty offended.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to." Jimin instantly apologizes, knowing everyone had been walking on eggshells around Taehyung lately. "She's a good girl, you've got it good."

Taehyung softly smiles at the thought of you, but he wasn't gonna lie, he was hurt by Jimin's statement. Call him sensitive or whatever, but he wasn't feeling the fact that people were constantly looking at him as a fuck up and hinting at it. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme lately. "You ready?" Tae sighs before grabbing his stuff. They get into his car, departing from the gym to make their way to Jimin's so he can get dropped off before Tae heads home. Taehyung replays yesterday's events in his head, which instantly irks him all over again. But, he has such a soft spot for you that he feels terrible for having been too harsh about it. He was still upset, and he wasn't gonna let up on his feelings. But he knew he should have been better about how he approached it. He knew better than that. He's learned to do better.

➤ FLASHBACK

Taehyung excitedly parks his car at the café to surprise you for your pop up today. He had been working endlessly to finish off finals strongly, and he had been so busy that he hadn't really gotten a chance to help you or support you. He felt terrible about it because you were his babygirl and he wanted nothing but to spoil you for all the hardwork you've been putting in.

He creeps up behind you, bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. "Excuse me, miss." He says lowly near your ear.

"Holy fuck!" You say as he startles you. "Babe, what the hell! Don't do that!" He laughs.

"What's cookin', goodlookin'?" He wiggles his eyebrows, making you chuckle. "These are for you." He smiles toothlessly as he hands you the pretty bouquet. "And your favorite!" He hands you a Mcflurry cup.

You squeal. "Oreo Mcflurry! Aw, thank you baby." You place a quick kiss on his lips. "But don't ever scare me like that!" You playfully hit his chest, causing him to erupt in laughter.

"You should've seen your face."

"Ha-ha, very funny." You rolled your eyes, causing him to pinch your cheeks.

"How's it going?"

"Welp, I'm almost out for the day." You giggle. "I, uh, may have underestimated." You look down at his hoodie, realizing it was one of the hoodies you had made for a previous collection you sold at Jin's. "Waaaow, cute sweater, who made it?"

"Mm, I don't know if you know her. Her name's Y/N."

"Uh huh?" You nod, hand on your hip, waiting to hear more.

"She stands about this tall." He lowers himself close to the ground, causing you to laugh. "Cute, right? She's beautiful, incredibly smart and sexy. Brilliant visual designer and illustrator. Packed with hella attitude." He pretends to ponder on his thoughts. "I could go on about her, really. She's one of a kind."

"Cute. She must feel lucky." You smile.

"I know, I'd feel lucky if I knew me too." You roll your eyes and playfully hit him. "Ah, I'm kidding." He pulls you into a hug. "I keep this sweater in my trunk."

"Oh, so you keep it in your trunk just for emergency wear?" You sarcastically ask as he holds you from behind.

"Yeah, and cause it's the only sweater I'd choose to wear out of the hundreds I own." You smile up at him. "Mhm, not gonna try and win that one." He places a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek before pulling away. "Show me. How can I help my pretty baby today?"

➤ END FLASHBACK

"Hey, I can't stay out late tonight because of the event tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung says softly.

"Please don't drink too much."

"I wooooooon't." He whines with a small sigh, also slightly offended at that statement. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that his own father painted him in such a negative light that everything seemed off to him lately. Like people were just out to get him or constantly looking down at him and his actions. A personal attack at who he was. It was slowly piling up for him and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

You prepared a quick dinner while he hopped in the shower. You set his plate aside before taking a look at the mail that had come in today.

Bills, bills and more bills.

You sighed to yourself as it felt like you had just paid things off, but clearly not. Moving into Taehyung's wasn't the greatest idea, being that his space was much more expensive than yours. But, he did have the space you needed for your work. There was money left, but you knew it wouldn't last forever. You hated tapping into your savings and whipping out your credit cards because you wanted to keep yourself clean as much as possible. However, that was proven difficult as of late. It was a sacrifice, especially since Taehyung had cut off his mother's help. Taehyung's pride was such a curse sometimes.

You shook your head, already finalizing the fact that you would deal with it later. You had began to set your things aside for the new student event tomorrow morning. You figured you'd get there early to set up and make your table at neat and cute, so you didnt have to worry much about it right now.

Taehyung comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back and wet. You turn to face him, your eyes wandering down to his chest and bottom area. God, why was he so beautiful? It wasn't fair. You loved him so much that you could crumble even being upset. He talks a whole lot about you being the death of him, when really, this man is going to be the death of you. Truly. There's no debate about it.

Getting to the bar, you both immediately spot your friends in the corner, a huge tower of beer decorating the center of the table. Jimin is the first to stand, coming towards you two with a huge smile on his face.

"Friends!" Jimin yells. "Drink!" He says, holding up two shot glasses.

"Fuck, man." Taehyung says taking the glass. "We just got here."

"So! Y/N needs to be home early remember?" He watches wide-eyed as you two take the shot and make sour faces at each other.

"Okay, I'm good." You say, being that you were the DD tonight. Taehyung could enjoy himself if he wanted to [to an extent], but you definitely needed to be in tip top shape to be a good role model to those incoming art students tomorrow.

Throughout the night, the bar starts to get packed from end to end, you and your friends staying at the table and keeping to yourselves. You could tell Taehyung was crossing the line of pretty fucking drunk, which somewhat bothered you. You literally just told him to take it easy tonight - just for one night - so you could do what you need to do tomorrow.

"Hey." Jimin comes next to you, swinging his arm over your shoulder like he always does. "One more shot?" You give him a toothless smile. Ugh, why the hell not? Your man was drunk, and Jimin had only been helpful lately. You could at least return the favor by taking a shot with him.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You." He smiles. "Your shop. Your art. It'll only go up from here, yeah?" He rose his shot glass up before clinking it against yours and taking it to the neck.

"Mkay, that does it for me." You chuckle. "Thanks for the shot."

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You looked at your watch. "Should probably get out of here soon, but Tae looks like he's enjoying himself. I don't wanna drag him out of here."

"We can just bring him home." You shake your head worriedly.

"I don't wanna leave without him." Jimin chuckles and looks over at Taehyung.

"He'll be okay and you'll be just fine tomorrow. Besides, you can make up all the bullshit in the world to tell the incoming students, they'll believe it either way."

"That's mean." You chuckle.

"Come. Let's dance!" Jimin says, leading the way to the empty space near the table. Everyone gets up to dance, Taehyung slipping himself behind you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Can I at least get one minute with my lady without Jimin interrupting?" He says in your ear.

"Taehyung." You flatly say, looking back at him.

"That's your mad face." He holds you tightly from behind as he sways you from side to side.

"I'm not mad."

"Mhm." He kisses the back of your head. "Why don't you have fun with me for a little? We'll go home after this." You couldn't even stay mad at him, with that fucking frustratingly handsome face of his. He was definitely drunk though, you could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath as he danced with you for a bit. You let him be, just so you wouldn't trigger anything within drunk Taehyung. Everyone around you was having a good time, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you pretty hard. You missed the days where you could get together and go to parties after a long week of school. Or, when you would tease the fuck out of Taehyung as his fuckbuddy during parties, or at the clubs. You know, before graduation and responsibilities happened.

But as one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, you found yourself getting restless. It was nearing 2AM and you had to be at the school by 8am - even earlier just to set your table up. You made your way to the bathroom, hoping Tae would get the point and start getting himself ready to leave.

Right.

Once you were out the bathroom, he'd realize you had been gone for a little and start saying his goodbye's. He'd realize time got to the best of him. Right?

"It's a fucking good time tonight!" Jimin tells Namjoon, laughing with him as he watches Joon act a fool with his dance moves.

"I'm sure it is, since you've been in Y/N's space the entire night." Taehyung says it jokingly, but he doesn't realize it only comes off that way in his head. Jimin furrows his brows at him, his high quickly dying with Taehyung's unnecessary comment.

"Don't start with all that. Not tonight. Everyone's having a good time--"

"Or what, Jimin?" Taehyung chuckles like the petty ass he can be. "You know it's true. Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be crossing boundaries?"

"Hey, let's step back for a bit." Jungkook lightly tugs on Taehyung's arm as he hears the conversation going south quickly. But Taehyung breaks from his grip, stepping forward towards Jimin.

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Haven't you already? Swinging your arms around her and shit, being all angelic--"

"Tae, come on. That's enough. Don't." Namjoon steps in the middle. "Let's go outside to get some air."

"You really wanna make me look that bad in front of my own girl?" Jimin lightly pushes him away, Taehyung getting too into his space.

"Enough." Namjoon shakes his head, aggressively stepping in the way to create distance. Taehyung shakes his head and walks off, the rest of the group watching as he walks. You finish off in the bathroom, assuming Tae was already getting ready to go. However, you realize your assumption of leaving by the time you're back is absolutely incorrect because when you get to the table, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tae?" Kook looks at you frazzled, before his eyes begin to pan the room again.

"Look, don't freak out, but him and Jimin just got into it and he walked off."

"What the hell do you mean they got into it and he walked off?"

"It's nothing, Tae is just drunk—" Kook squeezes your wrist and shakes his head.

"No, it's not just nothing because you and I both know how he's been feeling lately." You run your hand through your hair. "What did he say?"

"He just got into it about Jimin getting close to you lately, and how he felt like he was disrespecting boundaries." You sigh heavily.

"Fuck."

"We have an issue." Namjoon comes back from out of the blue. "He's not around."

"What do you mean?! Where did he go?" You run your hand through your hair.

"Okay, let's not panic." Jungkook tries to relax you. "Let me go check the bathrooms." Namjoon nods as he continues to look around the room.

"Please? We should get home." He nods to you before he's off to check for Tae in the bathroom. You stand near the table awkwardly, worry filling you quickly the more time passes.

"Hey, you okay? What can I do?" Hobi squeezes your arm, his face flushed with a red tint from how tipsy he is. You give him a small, reassuring smile and nod to try and keep calm.

"I honestly don't know anymore, but I'll be good. I think. We're just gonna look for him and head home."

"Is Kookie looking in the bathroom?" You nod. At this point, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook coming back alone.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him in there. I swear I tried."

"So, where the hell is he?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Lets check around again. I won't leave until we find him."

"Have you tried to call him?" You had already beaten Yoongi's question, calling Taehyung's phone only to see his phone vibrating and ringing on the fucking table. "Hm, okay. Maybe not."

"Fuck." You snatch Taehyung's phone from the table. "Is he serious right now? It's about to be 2:30AM. How the fuck can he get lost at this time?"

"Y/N just go home, we'll find him and bring him home." Jimin says, coming back from roaming around the place.

"No, I'm not leaving here without him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." He says, looking at you in the eye. Although he was pretty fucking pissed, he couldn't help but worry about him either. No matter what, that was still his bestfriend. He didn't want anything to happen to him.

"It's not your fault."

"We need to check around the neighborhood." Jungkook suddenly comes back and grabs your arm. You follow him, Yoongi, Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin outside of the bar, the cold hitting your skin harshly.

"Let's split." Namjoon says. Jimin and Hobi split, Namjoon and Yoongi sticking together to go down a different path. You kept yourself close to Jungkook, knowing there were all sorts of drunk ass men out at this hour and you weren't helping wearing a tiny ass skirt and a deep cut shirt.

"Cutiepie, let me come holla!" A dude yells as he tries to swing his arm around your waist. Jungkook easily pushes him off, glaring at him.

"Back the fuck up." He spits out, your bestfriend coming to your rescue amongst the sea of men you're encountering on the sidewalk right now. He throws his jacket over your shoulders, hoping to shield you from them and the cold. "Your outfit." Jungkook frowns, a little worried.

"I mean, I didn't expect to lose Tae tonight." Once you had gotten to a quieter part of the street, you come from behind to walk beside him. "Where the hell could he have gone?" You whine. You're more worried for his safety and wellbeing right now more than anything and all you wanted to do was find him and bring him home, even though you were slightly worrying about yourself and how things would go tomorrow. You could give him an earful later. It could wait.

"He couldn't have gone far." You both continue down the street, heading towards your car, hoping he may be around the area. Jimin calls to check in, saying him and Hobi hadn't caught sight of him yet, and the same thing goes for Yoongi and Joon. You almost want to cry when you don't see Taehyung near your car, but Jungkook ends up walking further down towards the park near your parking spot. "Y/N! Here!" He calls out, running towards an individual slumped over on their knees on a bench. "Taehyungie?" Jungkook sits next to him and shakes him a bit.

"Shit dude, I just kept walking then I suddenly had no idea where I was at." He drunkily says as you sit next to him and sigh heavily.

"No one said you had to do that, Tae."

"I just needed some air."

"Yeah and look where that got you, it's close to 3AM." You respond, irritated.

"Y/N." Jungkook says softly, shaking his head at you as if he were signaling for you to quit with your attitude. "Let's go back to the car." Jungkook watches him stand up and wobble a bit, but eases up when he realizes Taehyung is capable of walking himself to the car. You three get back safely, letting the others know that you had found him before driving Jungkook back towards the club so he can meet with everyone else. You quickly thank him for his support before driving off to head home.

The car is incredibly cold, and silent.

"Love, I'm sorry. I just needed air and got lost." He breaks the silence.

"I see that." You say softly as you drive home, keeping your eyes glued to the road in front of you.

3:23AM.

"Please don't be mad." He gives your thigh gentle squeeze. "I just got a little into my head tonight." You sighed, gently removing his hand from your thigh.

"Taehyung, I'm your fiancé, I'm doing this with you and only you. Do you even understand how worried I was? You just walked off, without your phone. Without saying anything to me. Just cause you got in your head for no reason."

"I'm sorry." He repeats at a whisper. You don't say anything else for the rest of the drive home. You silently park the car and head to the apartment, Taehyung sluggishly following behind you. He knows you're bothered, knowing it's closing to 3:30AM and you had an early morning. Honestly, he didn't realize how drunk he was until he had gotten himself into that argument with Jimin then got lost, especially without his phone. The fact that he had made you worry and stress like that made him feel terrible, especially after these past few days. You could have easily left, but you didn't leave without him even if it was this late. He instantly just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how sorry he was.

You quietly get ready for bed and line your things up by the door, just so it would be an easy quick and grab as you head out in the morning. You slip yourself into the sheets, Taehyung following shortly after he gets himself ready for bed. He shuts off all the lights and grabs himself a water bottle to sit by his nightstand before slipping in next to you.

"I love you." He whispers against your ear, wrapping his arms around you. But you don't respond. He peeks over to see your eyes shut, silently sighing to himself as he nuzzled his head against the nape of your neck. He knows you aren't fast asleep yet, and it hurts him that you hadn't said it back. You both just knew exactly how to love each other well, but also push each other's buttons. But, maybe, it was true - he was just fucking up left and right lately. Enough for you to go to bed without saying 'I love you' back.

undefined

'cause baby if i find a way, i'm sure of it, this love won't stray; just give me a chance to say i love you, and i need you. now are you here to stay, or fade away like every other day? you're the reason that i lie awake

track two: 3AM - finding hope

[mhaclownery]

𝕾𝖐𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: swearing

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Kirishima Eijirou, Sero Hanta, Bakugou Katsuki

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Kaminari Denki x gn! Reader, background: Ashido Mina x Sero Hanta

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You and the Bakusquad go out on an outing, and Kaminari Denki uses this as the perfect opportunity to express his feelings.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.5K Words <3

𝖆 𝖙𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖗 𝖊𝖝𝖈𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖛𝖊 ^^

You step out of the car, stretching slightly. You hadn't expected the roller rink that Kaminari suggested to be so far from UA but you still went with the idea anyway. Some Kaminari was driving and you as were in the passenger seat, Sero, Ashido, Kirishima and Bakugou had to cram themselves in the back seat. Bakugou was the first to clamber out of the SUV. "Fuck, if I had been in there any longer I just about would've murdered you, shitty hair." Kirishima laughs with a hint of nervousness to it. "This place seems cool, Kami.” Ashido says, inspecting the outside. “Yeah bro, you did a good job picking the spot this time.” Sero and Kaminari engage in their kinda confusing handshake, and Bakugou groaned. ”So, are we going or not?”

You guys enter the facility to see that it’s actually a mixture of things. There was a movie theatre, a roller rink, and an arcade. “Woah, this is wicked!” You say with a wide grin, as you playfully punch Denki’s arm. You turn around before you can see Denki blush. It’s was rather obvious to just about everyone, but you, that Denki has a huge crush on you. So, anytime you complimented him, it made him feel extra cool.

”So, what’s everyone wanna do?” You ask. “Well, Bakubro and I have been meaning to see that new movie.“ Kirishima explains, motioning in between himself and the blonde in question. “I’d person like to kick Hanta’s ass at some video games.” She smirks in Sero’s direction, causing Sero to playfully scoff. “Oh you’re on.” You’d been thinking about it the whole time that your friend’s were talking. You hadn’t been in the mood for a movie, nor were you any good at video games. “I think I wanna go skating. I actually used to learn tricks.” You turn to Denki. “What about you, Denks?” He gives a toothy grin at the use of his name. “Rollerskating is rad. I’m going with y/n.” You nod, smiling back. “Okay so, meet back at what, 8?” Ashido offers. “Sounds like a plan.”

After breaking, you and Denki head over to the roller skate check out center. "So, you used to skate, huh?" Kaminari elbows you playfully, with a joking tone. “My parents wanted me to do something with my spare time in grade school, so I chose roller skating.” Denki attempts to stand, after tying his skates, but his starts to falter as the skates begin to move. After regaining his composure, Denki offers his hand out to you to help you stand. You took it, lifting yourself up with him. You hadn’t realized how close you too really were until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were a vibrant yellow, that was a tad shade lighter than his hair. The color was oddly comforting to you, it felt familiar and safe. Denki’s face heats up slightly, a light pink blush dusted across his face. “Y-you might have to show me some those moves. I wanna see want Pro Skater Y/n has in store.” As he says this, he moves away creating a distance between you two as not to show you that he was flustered. He was confident from afar, really, but when it came to in person, it was a lot harder. Especially when it came to you, he was down bad for you. The amount of times that he’s ranted to Jirou or Sero about how much he liked you was astronomical. Once you got out on the rink, which was rather empty considering the rather large amount of people in the facility. Denki was shakily making his way, he wasn’t moving fast in any way, but he was ahead of you. “C’mon y/n! I thought you were the skating champ.” Denki calls over his shoulder, causing you to roll your eyes at the boy. You quickly begin to skate like a pro. In seconds you pass Denki, whilst skating backwards. Just to show off a little, you jump and spin 3 times in the air before landing swiftly. You look back to see Denki with his jaw dropped. You skate back over to him with a smirk. "How was that for Pro Skater Y/n?" You used your fingers to make air quotes around the pro skater comment. Denki smiles at you with a small laugh. "Alright, alright. You got me. I revoke any and all teasing. You're skating circles around me."

After watching fall just about 20 times, you finally decide to help him. "Here. Grab on to my arm." He grabs your arm, with a slight questioning look on his face. "We're just gonna skate together." You smirk, as you had other plans. Once you deem that he's secure, you start moving, switching his grip on your arms to your hands. As you move down the rink, you get progressively faster. Denki laughs nervously. "Whatcha doin' there, Y/n?" You don't answer as you put your plan in action. You were skating backwards and Denki was basically being pull forward in front of you. as you reach the speed you need to be going, you pull Denki forward and under your legs. Denki lets out a surprised yelp but goes along with it. You pull him back up and dip him. You're too busy laughing at him to notice, but he's starstruck. 'They are so beautiful.' He thinks, observing your features. You pull him up, still laughing slightly. You felt your stomach growl and decide you're going to get snacks. "Hey Denks, I'm gonna get snacks, you want anything?" He shakes his head, seemingly lost in his train of thought. You shrug and make your way over to the snack bar.

"That'll be 109 yen." You nod, pulling out to owed amount and handing it to the man. "Thank you-" You begin to say before you're cut off by the sound of the loud speaker chiming for an announcement. You think nothing of it as you walk away from the snack bar but are immediately stopped in your tracks as you hear no one but Denki fucking Kaminari's voice over the loud speaker. You narrowed your eyes and lo and behold, your best friend and crush was standing behind the adjacent counter. "Hey, everyone. You guys obviously don't know me. Well maybe you do, I don't know. But, I just wanted to say.." As soon as you think he can't make whatever he's about to do worse, this man stands on the counter. You're frozen in shock, as your friend is about to do whatever it is he's planning. Just your luck, the movie Kirishima and Bakugou went to see had let out, and Ashido and Sero had made their way to the lobby as well. So, this meant that the whole squad got to witness what was about to go down. "I'm hanging out with my best friends here today, and especially my best friend of all." He makes eye contact with you through the crowd. "But, I have something I need to say to them. Y/n L/n." He takes a deep breath and you felt your stomach twist in anticipation. "I want to be more than friends. I want to be your boyfriend. That is, if you'll have me?" You hear several 'aws' and all the eyes in the room turn to look at you, seeming yo have followed Denki's gaze. You weren't going to say no, obviously. This is Denki Kaminari we're talking about. Your longtime crush, who to be honest, you only dream of him asking you out. "Yes, you dumbass. I'll have you. Just get down." You attempted a menacing tone but the giant smile on your face kinda overrode it. The crowd claps as they would in any cliche rom-com. As you got closer to Denki, you weren't able to even exchange any words as the establishment manager came running over. "Hey! Get off that counter right now!" You and Denki share a look that said 'Oh shit." And took off running at the same time. The rest of the squad followed suit, as to not get reprimanded by the manager.

Once you all got to the car, for some reason, Bakugou took it upon himself to be the first to speak. "Good going, dumbass. You got us banned." Ashido smacks Bakugou's arm. "Oh shut it. It was cute as fuck. You're just jealous that Y/n's the first to get a boyfriend in the group." Bakugou mutters something under his breath but remains silent after that. "So, uh. Yeah. I really like you, Y/n. And-" You pull him in for a kiss, cutting him off from whatever ramble he was about to g on. "I like you too, Denks. Now let's go, I see the manager coming." You all scramble in the car, and getting out of there before he could say anything.

And so what if Aizawa got a call from the manager complaining about the incident, and just chose to forget about it? That's nobody's business but his own.

[asexual-means-no-attraction]

Hi. I decided to send this ask because of your latest reblog (about the "new genders" often reinforcing gender stereotypes). I might be wrong (and please feel free to correct me if so), but sometimes for me it looks like people are just ashamed and or hurt of the word "woman". I've seen people, who were okay with their body, presenting femininely, just didn't want to be called a woman, because they "didn't feel like other cis-women". As if cis-women are a sort of hivemind... I can understand, if the word holds unpleasant connotations for them, be it due to societal influence or personal history, and be it far from me to tell people, what to call or consider themselves. But I still can't see this trend as something good.

Buckle in my friends. I can tell this is gonna be long post. Warning up front-- this will be VERY much USA centered cuz that's the culture I know best. If anyone from anywhere else wants to add on with their own takes feel free.

You're right and you should say it. But to add on to it:

It's not just that there is shame or hurt in being called a women, but also a whole culture built around what a women should be. I'm not talking old house wife stereotypes here (tho that's connected). I'm talking about how modern media and peers view the "idea" of being a women.

There are a lot of expectations and conflicting ideas (not saying men don't have this either, but they have different expectations and ideas and thats for another post. This one is strictly about women). On top of that, there is a LOT of violence against women in the media. I'm not going to go into statistics of real life violence cuz that's just asking for a fight in my notes. So I'm gonna stick with the media right now.

When you constantly see violence of a specific kind on tv you start to be more careful in real life. On top of that, trust me when I say, a majority of women have dealt with a creepy guy. I got groped by a grown ass man during a field trip when I was 14. I've gotten teenage boys following me and a friend, harassing me on bicycles asking me to do a 3 sum while I was in college. Many women have stories of men who have harassed them-- some violent, some not. But when you're exposed to shit like that on a regular, it's not hard to make a connection between being a women = being in danger.

Add to that the expection of how to act in society. You can't get a professional job unless you wear makeup (or have REALLY good skin). If you don't smile people assume your mad, and smiling all the time is tiring (let people have nutural expressions). Since I've been able to start passing as a man, my outfit expectations from others have got a lot more relaxed. I know plenty of women who have felt super pressured and sometimes even deal with trauma from gender stereotypes/pressures/roles/whatever (again, men also suffer from this, but thats for another post).

Add on just general sexism and you have a lotta women who don't like being women strictly because of how they are expected to look and act. It has nothing to do with their actual physical sex, and everything to do with the environment around them. Thus, their disconnect from "womenhood" isn't dysphoria based, rather societial pressured based.

In this case, there are people creating new genders because they don't like their birth one based off of outside factors (being trans is based on internal factors). It's based on how they're treated as their birth sex, on stereotypes, on how media portrays them, on the pressures they face, on how they're forced to act. Unfortunately, creating new genders won't fix that. They'll have the same issues as before.

Basically: The solution here is to stop sexism, gender roles, and societal pressures based on gender. NOT making up new genders. It's important to help these people feel comfortable as themselves, and it's good they're trying to help themselves. But the solution they've come up with isn't going to work. The solutions that work are often the hardest ones to solve. I can't say I know the best way to end the stigma we have in our culture nor the gender roles that are enforced. But I do know that the best course of action is addressing gender roles and letting people be themselves regardless of their gender.

[countrymusiclover]

14 - Past haunts Future

Part 15

Iron Stone masterlist

Steve is heading for his plane but Tony blasts the ship. Rhodey and I fly down to the ground with him. "Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport." Flipping my mask up I look to Rhodey. "Don't you think so?" He nods. "Definitely werid." Tony walks closer to Steve explaining. "Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out? Steve stands his ground. "You're after the wrong guy." Tony and I share the same look. "Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-" Steve cuts him off, gripping his shield. "And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't."

"Steve..." Natasha appears out from hiding, making him look over his shoulder. "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?" Tony gets tired of waiting and calls out the codeword for Peter. "All right, I've run out of patience. Underoos!" Peter webs Steve's shield to his hands, landing on the top of a van. "Nice job, Peter." I give him a thumbs up with a smile. "Thanks. I could have stuck the landing a little better, it's just...new suit. It's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's perfect, thank you." Peter replied nervously to which Tony said. "Good job.." Peter waves to everyone. "Hi, everyone. Spider-Man." Steve nods his hands tied up by webbing. "You've been busy."

Tony complains back to him. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint...rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn't even wanna leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep...I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart." Steve states. "You did that when you signed." Tony bawled his hands into fists done dancing around about this. "You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us...or a squad of J-SOC guys...with no compunction about being impolite. Come on." An arrow released Steve causing a fight to break out. Peter swings inside the hangar bay as I flew in to see Bucky. I released a blast of entry on him but he blocked it with his metal arm. "Alright soldier, tornado time." I spin on my feet creating an orange tornado, spinning him around in it but he punched me in my gut making me drop the shield. "You have a metal arm. That is awesome, dude." Peter grabs his arm blocking the blow meant for me.

"Peter!" A person with metal wings scooped him up as I scream blasting my thrusters to follow the pair. "You have the right to remain silent!" He punches the guy until he could web away to the ceiling. Tony gets trapped under a lot of cars before I break through the glass to blast Wanda who uses her powers to throw a pole at me, I dodge the attack before Clint fires an arrow at my right thrusters. "Thruster percent decrease." Friday informed Steve's team tried to get away. "Yeah, got that Friday."

A gold beam crosses their patch making them all stop suddenly. "Captain Rogers... I know you believe what you're doing is right. But for the collective good...you must surrender now." Vision hovers above the ground. Black Panther rolls in, Rhodey and I drop our blasters. Peter swings in, landing in a bent position with Tony and Nat standing in the middle. Team Stark. The guy with metal bird wings, a guy who can become the size of an ant. Clint, Wanda with Buckey are with Steve. Team Roger's. Everyone charges for the center creating an epic fight scene to unfold. Peter fights Steve but can't hold up a large truck so I fly by blowing up the truck. All of the sudden the ant guy becomes huge, holding Rhodey. "Holy shit!" Peter gasped as I cry into my suit's earpiece. "Tony! Plan B, plan B now!" Rhodey struggled against his holder. "Okay, tiny dude is big now. He's big now." Tony demands from the ground seeing his friend being swung around. "Give me back my Rhodey!" The ant guy threw him and Peter struggled to catch him with webbing, as the eagle guy slammed into Tony and I.

"Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they'd like to disclose...I'm open to suggestions." Tony explains chasing the eagle guy. Vision blows down a tower but Steve manages to get away. I tailspin through the ant guy's legs, blasting his arm but nothing happens before Peter's voice comes through my suit when I fly high enough to see the whole battle view. "Hey, guys, you ever seen that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back?"

I gasped seeing him start wrapping his webbing around the large legs. "Peter Parker, are you talking about Star Wars? I'm totally in on this plan!"

Rhodey questions me understating the reference. "Jesus, Tony, how old is this guy because your wife is understanding him?"

"I don't know, I didn't carbon-date him. He's on the young side." Tony rambles off.

Peter swings on his web string, wrapping the legs up tight. "Y/n! You know that part where they're on the Snow planet...with the walking thingies?" I blasted one of the ant guy's legs, soaring into the sky. "Gotcha Pete...let's Star Wars this guy."

"Maybe the kid's onto something." Tony flies around the huge guy.

Blasting my flight thrusters to full force I ordered him. "Ton, high!"

"High now, go high." Rhodey catches on, soaring to the sky. All together at once Tony, Rhodey and I both blasted into the ant guy's face knocking him down on his back, smashing an airplane to pieces.

Peter gets thrown backwards but I blast to catch him in my arms, rolling onto the ground. "Y/n?' He gasped trying to catch his breath, wincing from a bruised arm. "Yeah, Pete."

My breathing quick with Tony dropping down beside us, removing his iron mask and mine. "That was so scary..."

I removed his red mask, running a hand through his hair before we blasted off to stop Steve from getting away. "I know. But you did good, now go home and get some rest."

The three of us fly behind the jet but Vision misfired and hit Rhodey, instead of hitting the eagle guy who disappeared. Rhodey's iron suit loses all power, having him dropping down to the ground. "Rhodey!" Tony cried flying after him. I blast my flight thrusters trying to grab his hand but I can't keep up. "Rhodes!" Rhodey pants heavily, panicking. "Tony, Y/n. I'm flying dead stick." Rhodey crashed to the ground as Tony and I removed our helmets quickly. "Read vitals!" Tony demands Friday. "Heartbeat detected. Emergency medical is on its way." The eagle guy landed on the ground "I'm sorry." But I lifted my right hand blasting him on his back, baring my teeth. "We're gonna get him Rhodes."

"Y/n I just put Morgan down for a nap. Here's a picture." Pepper texts me a picture of our daughter cuddling with her princess blanket, peacefully sleeping in her crib in our bedroom.

Resting the phone to my ear I slipped into a different outfit from the one I wore when we recruited Peter. "Thanks Pep, hopefully we'll be home soon." I hung up with her passing Nat in the hallway to see Tony looking out a window wearing a tux once again.

"Hey darling, why the long face?" He rose a brow when I lay my head on his chest. "I miss our daughter, Pepper sent a pic of her sleeping but...it's not enough."

He kisses the crown of my head, rubbing my back before his watch started beeping. "Hmm don't worry Y/n. Once we settle this, we'll spend all our attention to her."

He tapped his watch seeing a file appear from somewhere. "What am I looking at, Friday?" The AI responded. "Priority upload from Berlin police." He glanced down to me before requesting. "Fire up the chopper." The two of us climbed onto the helicopter and it flies over the ocean to Berlin. I shifted in my seat beside him as Friday pulled up the police file. "The Task Force called for a psychiatrist as soon as Barnes was captured. The UN dispatched Doctor Theo Broussard from Geneva within the hour. He was met by this man."

"Did you run facial recognition yet?" Tony asked to her response. "What do I look like?" Tony taunts wrapping an arm over my shoulder. "Uh, I don't know. I've been picturing a woman with brown hair blonde-highlights." Friday informed. "You must be thinking of someone else." I lightly smiled. "He must be..."

"The fake doctor is actually Colonel Helmut Zemo. Sokovian Intelligence." Tony flips his phone sideways, creating bigger screens. "Zemo ran Echo Scorpion...a Sokovian covert kill squad. " My eyes flicker over all the images, curiously. "So what happened to the real Broussard?" Friday pulls up the FBI pictures of the crime scene. "He was found dead in a Berlin hotel room. Where police also found a wig and facial prosthesis...approximating the appearance of one James Buchanan Barnes." Tony curses under his breath. "Son of a bitch. Get this to Ross." Friday said back. "Yes, boss."

"This is Raft Prison Control, you're cleared for landing, Mr and Mrs. Stark." A security guard clears over the radio as a prisoner ship rises from under the ocean. Our helicopter landed on the pad before the ship dropped down in the ocean once again, I stepped through the metal doors seeing a bunch of cells. Someone claps their hands having me whip my head the direction, throwing some hair over my shoulders seeing Clint. "The futurist is here. He knows what's best for you, whether you like it or not." Tony steps to his cell, his injured arm hanging in a cast. "Give me a break, Barton. I had no idea they'd put you here, come on."

Clint spits on the floor grumbling. "Yeah, you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony." He responds back to him seeing me staring at a video camera, that was focusing only on me. That's odd. "Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. This place is for maniacs. This is a place for..." Clint cut him off. "Criminals. Criminals, Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for." Tony shows the picture of the dead guy from Friday to find Steve. Once in the air again Tony nods my way, resting his index finger on the scanner to have his iron suit attach over him. I rest my right hand on the scanner feeling the metal of my suit go over me before we blasted off in the directions we were given. Let's get this done once and for all.

Tony, Steve, Bucky and I entered a room filled with dead bodies in chambers. Flipping my mask off I squint seeing a guy with black hair and some reinkels who stares evilly at me. "You don't recognize me do you? Granted you were only a 13 year old girl." Tony and Steve were too busy looking around trying to figure out what happened here. "I'm sorry...I don't know you." I conjure my powers to my hand before the guy steps to me, placing his hands on my head. I gasped seeing flashes of a younger me. A memory from my past I regretted because I nearly killed someone with my powers.

"Come on Pepper. We'll be fine." I cheered as we swing on the swingset. Pepper was a year older than me, but we didn't care.

"Y/n, there's someone watching us." She warns as a guy with brown hair comes over to us, he's way older than us. "Excuse me girls. Would you want to come with me and make out?"

I bite my lip getting out of the swingset. "Uh..no. Pep let's go." She takes my hand in hers as we try to run away but the guy grabs my shirt, yanking me backwards.

But I elbowed him in his gut making an escape. Pepper screams struggling against his strong grip. "Y/n help me!"

I groaned getting to my feet and blasting my hands out towards the creepy guy. He got thrown backwards harshly into the monkey bars as I grunt thrown on my back.

Pepper races to help me to my feet. "You saved me!" Once I'm to my feet I flick my hand around, trying to cool down my powers making my hand glow orange. "Y - yeah. I guess I did."

"Indeed you are something Y/n...and just you wait I'll find you after this. So I can have those powers...for myself just you wait!" The old guy cackles moaning from the cuts and bruising I gave him.

Pepper and I hugged each other tightly as I spit back at him. "Sure you will, creep!"

I never saw the man again...until now. The guy smirks removing his hands from my face. "At last I have you, my Y/n...and you're powers are mine!" He goes for my neck feeling for something and it hits me. My necklace. I was wearing it that day.

Raising my hands I blast him away from me, rushing to Tony's side. "Sorry dude but that's long gone. Just like you will be." Holding my hands up I'm about to blast him again until hearing Tony mumble. "I know that road."

Glancing over my shoulder I see there's a video screen playing a old car crash somewhere. Why would he know that. The video is labeled as 16 Aekafopr, 1991. Watching the tape I see an old car crash and a motorcycle pulled up beside them. An old man lays begging in the dirt, injured. "Help my wife. Please, help...Sergeant Barnes?"

The dude on the motorcycle is actually Bucky. I gently rest my left hand on Tony's iron shoulder whispering. "Tony...is that?" A woman's voice meets my ears calling out.

"Howard!" Pressing my hand over my mouth I shriek seeing Bucky killing Howard Stark - Tony's father.

"Howard!" Maria, his mother cried. Bucky rounds her side of the car, choking his mother to death. Tears slip from my eyes at seeing someone kill his parents. The video cuts off with Bucky giving a thumbs up. Tony tries to strick him but Steve grabs his arm. "No, Tony."

Tony turns to face Steve, tears welling in his brown eyes. "Did you know?" Steve breaths out. "I didn't know it was him." Tony bates his teeth getting in his face. "Don't bullshit me, Roger's. Did you know?" Steve never loses gaze with him. "Yes."

Tony pushed himself away from him as I stomped up in Steve's face, snarling like a wolf. "Steve Rogers, what the hell is wrong with you!" Pointing my left index finger at Tony I sob in anger. "Those were his parents - those would've been my parents-in-law - and you kept it hidden from him - you hid the truth of who murdered his parents!"

He looks to the floor before Tony blasts him away trying to kill Bucky. Dropping my mask down I blasted up with my rockets after Bucky opened the air hatch. "It wasn't him, Tony. HYDRA had control of his mind" Steve tried but he wasn't having it. "Move!" He blasted up trying to get me but Steve breaks his left foot thrusters. "Left boot jet falling. Flight systems compromised." Friday reports as he crashed down on a metal pad. "Ah, crap. Y/n!"

"On it!" I soared up to Bucky blasting him with my right hand. Bucky dropped down to Tony who tried to blast him but Steve jumped in the way with his shield. Steve hicks Tony with a metal rope yanking him down and throwing his shield to stop me. "Threat detection." Friday voiced so I whip my hand to shoot the shield to the ground. "Nice try Stev, but it's two against one!" I flip my mark off shouting down at him.

Tony raised his missile launcher on his right hand trying to stop Bucky from escaping. "Targeting system's knackered, boss." He ignores Friday's warning flipping his mask down, squinting one eye closed. "I'm eyeballing it." He shot at the tanks holding the hatch open, they blew up closing. Bucky gasped falling down as Steve starts punching me. So I tornado rolled him into a lit room before the two boys joined us. "This isn't gonna change what happened." Steve pants Tony shakes his head iron mask down once more. "I don't care. He killed my mom." Tony and Steve start fighting again before Bucky goes to choke me. I gasped punching him in the gut.

He slammed me into the hard floor but I blast him off. Bucky spun around shoving Tony's head into the wall with his metal arm until Tony used his chest blaster on him. Bucky flew backwards with no metal arm before I hovered above him. "Just so you know...I'm sorry for punching you."

He passes out as Steve collapses to floor beside him. "I'm sorry, Tony. You know I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice, but he's my friend." I forced myself to my feet, removing my iron mask.

"So was I." Tony growled through his iron mask. Steve attacks Tony, smashing the shield into the glowing chest piece. I tornado over to the pair but he punched me in my rib, instantly I dropped to the ground. Bucky weakly wakes up and gets help off the floor.

"That shield doesn't belong to you. You don't deserve it. My father made that shield!" Tony shouted in groans, watching the two leave. Steve dropped the shield weakly looking at me one last time.

Rolling on my back I moaned resting my left arm over my head. "I'm quitting - can we do that!" Tony spits getting to his feet weakly. "I'll resign too. Let's get you home."

Rhodey limped with a robot brace one hand on Tony's shoulder. I limped beside him with my left arm in a sling. I'd changed into a simple dress with black leggings and ankle wedged brown boots. It had been a couple weeks since the epic fight with Steve and Bucky. As far as the world was concerned the Avengers were split up, half being in prison ahd the other half obeying the laws set in place.

"It's just the first pass. Give me some feedback anything you can think of. Shock absorption, lateral movement-" I cut Tony off grinning. "Cup holders."

Rhodey breathes before falling to the floor. "You may wanna think about some AC down in...ow!" Tony and I gasped trying to help him up but he protests, so the three of us end up sitting on the tile floor.

"138. 138 combat missions. That's how many I've flown, Tony. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew them. Because the fight needed to be fought. It's the same with these Accords. I signed because it was the right thing to do. And yeah, this sucks. This is, uh...this is a bad beat. But it hasn't changed my mind." Rhodey explained before Tony helps him up.

"You okay Rhode?" I asked resting a hand on his shoulder as he nods yes.

Someone knocked on the glass door for our heads to turn and see an elderly FedX guy. "Are you Tony Stank?" I clasp my hands over my mouth to hold in my laughter at the nickname. Tony Stank.

"Yes, this is Tony Stank. You're in the right place." Rhodey pointed his finger at Tony, cracking up. "Thank you for that! Never dropping that by the way."

Once upstairs in our bedroom I race to the crib, cradling Morgan in my arms. "Hey babygirl, did you miss us as much as we missed you?" I ask in a baby voice walking to his office.

Tony opens the box, pulling a note out first. "Hey princess." Giving the both of us a kiss on the head, before he sits in his rolling computer chair. I sit ontop of the desk as he read the note aloud from Steve.

"Tony. Y/n...I'm glad to hear you're both back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourselves. We all need family. The Avengers are yours. Maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the Army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part...they haven't let me down. Which is why I can't let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. I know I hurt you, Tony. I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents...I was sparing you...but I can see now that I was really sparing myself. And I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we agreed on the Accords. I really do. I know you're doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. That's all any of us should. So no matter what...I promise you...if you need us...if you need me. I'll be there."

Friday rings through the room once he sets the letter down on the table. "Priority call from Secretary Ross. There's been a breach at the Raft Prison." You've gotta be kidding. My face clearly reads that way because Tony sits ne on his lap, while I hold Morgan in my arms. "Yeah, put him through."

"Tony. Y/n, we have a problem." Secretary Ross comes through the desk phone. Tony rest his finger on the end call button. "Uh, please hold." He presses the button cutting Ross off. "No, don't!"

I smirked giggling at the action before he wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing me softly. "The world can wait. I need some time with my two favorite girls, I love you 3000 Y/n Stark."

"We need some time with our Tony, I love you 3000 too." Morgan giggled at the sound of our voices when I leaned forward, capturing his lips with mine. After everything we've been through. The Stark family deserves some peace.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

9.21.23 Thursday

4:51 am

I'm home again from Iqor floor ...

Guess what? My black heart ring is suddenly here on the sofa,angels...

Weird...

Yeah! It is fine for me to buy my own ring and flower hahaha as long as I have a job angels...

5:05 am

I'm happy coz I was able to buy a new ring and I'm happy coz my black heart ring is here again..

I'm flatly happy seeing the dread-locks guy after the shift, I really, really like his hair... Hmm... I'm wondering if there is twinning there...

Now, I see and saw Miles today after the shift ( the dread-locks guy )... But he didn't text me anymore... So, it was just a flatly ohkay seeing him and smiling at him.

But I remember Bella told me he got a wife already...

5:13 am

Hmm....On the other side of the story... I got my intellicare card, my health card that I'm still wondering if this is official... Official me? Being an iqorian employee...

I have this up and down emotion... This call center job really shake my inner emotion, shaking my self-esteem even my self-confidence...

11:18 am

Let's go back to my hearing on Monday and our final nesting which is I don't know what will happen to me or us??? I will pray that I can stay or be on an another training if they will dismiss me coz of my 6 ghost call last Sept.17 that I couldn't remember or hoping for a rewave just to have a job for now there in Iqor but if I can stay in wave 468 it is much better than leaving them...

I will have a hearing coz last Sept.17, the day that I had a 1 quality call coz almost all day we were on training and coaching... Then, I didn't know there were 6 ghost call or 6 dead air appeared on my list which I couldn't remember that it happened...

About Coach John I don't like him but I respect him in a way coz of him being the coach on theory but...I don't like him coz I can't trust him... Sometimes, he is teaching me a reverse or making a confusion on me on a minimal secretive ways...

I still have pelvic pain and right leg cramps... I badly need a therapy massage.

Another thing after lunch yesterday coz before that I wasn't able to call coz Coach John transferred us from row 3 which we already set-up our system then Coach John suddenly announced that will be transferring to the 2nd row or middle-row...

I had my call after lunch which was around 11:45 onwards then my atlas bullshit, it doesn't have pop-up! It was shit for me but I need to have a call yesterday. I was on manual angels... Getting numbers or ban account numbers.

When you are on a manual on atlas it is really hellish.... You will get the mobile number or account number and type everything... Here is the thing it can be there will be a "conspiracy"... Nothing is impossible these days...