NO WAR IN ANGER WAS EVER WON

i’ve moved lincoln here! so if you’d like to do things you know where to find him! 

               together ? together. he’s half expecting to dump him, now that he finally knows that they’re together —- which he supposes is the appropriate label for the pair given the amount of time they had spent together in the last six months. ❛ you..., you got me a six month present— ❜ his face is a blank canvas, blue hues eyeing her with curiosity —- if that wasn’t a reminder of all the reasons this thing wasn’t going to work, he didn’t know would be. fingers antsy, drumming against the surface standing between them like a wall, lincoln shrugs softly.  ❛ i didn’t— dubai ?! ❜ he can’t help but gape at the girl. he hadn’t even known they were an official ‘together’ & she’d gotten them a trip to fucking dubai — he’d won boyfriend of the fucking year. ❛ i— uh..., i dunno— i’ve never been outside of chicago, AJ. ❜

               She’s right. He didn’t have much to offer her —- including the headache she spoke of. Unlike Hürrem who could seduce the devil with her biddings, Lincoln was nowhere near as proficient in the art of persuasion. ❛ Actually, ❜ The male emits an irritable chuckle. ❛ I’d prefer if you didn’t talk to me at all. ❜ Still pacing, he glances over the girl striding by his side before offering her a malign glare. He was hoping she’d give up — maybe find a hint of inner remorse within her after setting eyes on the blue, purple, and black colourings etched across his nearly bare physique. However, Lincoln is gullible and the girl at his side, obviously relentless. ❛ Month’s worth of my— ❜ He comes to an abrupt halt, calloused palms rushing towards his marred mouth as he chokes out a violent set of coughs. ❛ Fuck— ❜ Lincoln hisses sharply under his breath, the metallic taste of his blood strong against his tongue. ❛ Listen, ❜ he pulls the palm from his blood stained mouth, blue hues flickering from the red speckled against his skin to the unblemished girl watching over him like a hungry hawk. ❛ Do you get off on being a fucking bitch or— ❜ He gasps, dragging in a sharp, afflictive breath.  ❛ Should is this a side of you only I’m special enough to see?❜

               Daddy duty wasn’t something Lincoln had gotten used too just yet. In fact, despite being a father for several years now, a child had never been a part of his plan. Given that the male had spent a vast majority of his life bouncing from sketchy home to home within the foster system, he wasn’t well acquainted with parenthood or what came hand in hand with being a good parent. The whole idea had scared him to shit but Vanessa was persistent and if there was one thing Lincoln did know, it was his inability to deny his wife anything. After many failed attempts at conceiving, the pair had finally given into adoption and before Lincoln could give the whole ordeal of ‘parenthood’ a second thought —- he was a father. Naturally, being a father also required him to to act like one and while he’d left behind any and all reminders of the life he once lived on the South Side of Chicago, the male had also been coerced into leaving behind his life as a boxer ( growing up to see her father etched in painful purple bruises was not the way Nessa perceived things  ) —- not entirely though he supposed, given that his wife had opted to allow him ownership of his own boxing gym, so as long as he wasn’t on the receiving end of the glove. Now, years later after the death of his wife, there he was, the sole caretaker of Camila and although he was doing his best, Lincoln really had no fucking clue what it was he was doing. He’s in the midst of a tea party, what he assumes was once his wife’s lipstick smudged on his lips courtesy of his daughter when the knock on the door catches him off-guard. They weren’t expecting any visitors — they rarely had visitors post Vanessa’s passing. ❛ Alright, baby— think daddy can take a little from tea time and get that door? ❜ he murmurs softly, before leaning down to press an affectionate to his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Moments later, he’s striding to the door, sweatpants slung low, and lipstick still smeared across his mouth. When he swings open the door, the face on the side is unrecognizable. ❛ I— Hi... ❜ He steps out into the sun, a small smile on his mouth. Brows raising in the stammered words falling from his lips, Link raises a curious brow at the blonde. ❛ I— Uh..., I mean— yeah, s’kinda hot today, isn’t it? ❜

               Lacking any family of his own, Mari was the first person Lincoln could his own and so he did, and when he did, he said it with a whole lot of pride. She was ‘his girl’ —- he’d hold her close, arm wrapped around her slim most, and blue hues pooled with fondness as he introduced her to others, ‘this is my girl’, he would say, nearly grinning from ear to ear. With no one else to call his own, Mariana had become Lincoln’s everything. Palms pressed into either side of the table he’s propped up on, the male shakes his head, the smile on his lips unwilling to dissipate regardless of the pain he was in. ❛ Flattery did me a second date..., ❜ He buries his head in the crook of her neck, her scent, although overwhelming was still refreshing in comparison to that of the sweat stained locker room. ❛ And a third..., ❜ he murmurs softly, his breath hot against her cool, olive skin. ❛ And eventually— ❜ Lincoln pulls his lips from the familiarity of her skin, gaze hovering over her suggestively. Chuckling lightly, his thick brows narrow together, as a defeated sigh tumbles from his lips. ❛ —Fine. ❜ He agreed hesitantly. ❛ You just wanna dope me up so you can get rid of me, ❜ He grumbles playfully. Forehead resting against hers, his lips eager for hers, he nods compliantly. ❛ Babe... ❜ Skin burning at his touch, his blackened lids come to a slow painful close, as he breathes out a soft laugh. ❛ If you want me getting off this chair, I’m gonna need you to stop doin’ that. ❜ His fingers unlatch from hers, before crawling over to her waist towards the taught flesh of her ass. ❛ —-Or I’m gonna be forced to make round one happen right here. ❜

          i need things for lincoln so this is a reverse starter call ?

               When Lincoln had pictured marriage, he’d imagined a lot of things but he’d never pictured it to be tedious work ; a dull, redundant routine that compromised of heated arguments, sleeping on the couch, and occasional but highly mediocre sex. He wasn’t glad that it was over, no because despite everything that had unfolded ( for the worst ), the woman across him was the love of his life —- she was the only woman, or rather — perhaps the only person Lincoln had loved, she was the only family he had. The divorce hadn’t been easy, and in the midst of the whole chaotic process, he had contemplated calling the whole thing off a number of times. They’d made it through worse, far worse ; if they worked just a little bit harder they could figure this out as well but when harmless banters turned into full fledged verbal scuffles, and Lincoln’s body burned with momentary contempt for the same woman he claimed to love, he knew it was a little too late. He’s sitting in the home they once called their own, an asset that Lincoln had agreed to handover to her with little argument, he didn’t want want this going on any longer than it had and so he found himself obliging to most of her requests. Shuffling uneasily, robust silhouette clad in sweat-stained athletic wear ( he hadn’t bothered changing after she’d insisted that he make his way over immediately ), he glances over at his soon to be ex-wife. ❛ You know —- last I checked, they made a phone for this sort of a thing. ❜

               There’s a lot Lincoln wants to say. There’s also a lot Lincoln won’t say, not then and there because here, in the midst of strangers and unwanted company, wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t the right to ask her why she’d left or why she’d never bothered to call or hell, why she hadn’t even bothered with a goodbye. Maybe there was a chance that Lincoln had read things wrong, maybe Heidi hadn’t loved him the way Lincoln had loved her, maybe, she hadn’t loved him at all but now wasn’t the time. His teeth sink harshly into his tongue in a desperate attempt to keep himself from tossing questions her way. The fighter smiles, or it’s the best version of a smile that he could muster up given the circumstances at hand. ❛ Yeah, a speech. ❜ He repeats, nearly breathless, despite his standstill position. Her nudge, although dainty, given her petite frame, leaves the male’s skin scorching and suddenly he’s pullulated by a storm of unwanted memories —- memories Lincoln cherished but preferred not to remember.  ❛ Dunno, ❜ Lincoln shrugs haphazardly.   ❛ Never been much of an inspirer, you should know that. ❜ He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a jab but it does, and in that moment, he doesn’t regret it. She’d left, she’d left without a single fucking goodbye and so it was only fair, that Lincoln voiced his resentment in one way or another. Concerned blue hues travel along her disheveled character —- he’s half tempted to pull her into his own broad frame for old times sake but he figures now probably isn’t the best time for that either. He shouldn’t have cared, the moment Heidi walked out of his life unannounced she wasn’t his to care for but he does, he fucking does because it was just like Lincoln to care for things that he shouldn’t have otherwise given a damn about — despite his burly exterior, he was anything but. His gaze follows hers, until it settles on a young brunette resting on the bed —- he doesn’t recognize her, nor does he expect too. His brows heighten, blue eyes brimmed with curiosity drifting back towards the blonde. It was like he’d been taken a blow straight to the gut —- nearly choking on his saliva at her words, the male shakes his head. He’d misheard her, in the midst of all the anger, resentment, and age old memories — he had to have misheard her. Sure, the child sprawled on the examination room shared the color of his hair but that had to be coincidental.  ❛ I—What? ❜

               He probably should’ve known better but in the moment —- or rather in the midst of his runners high, it had seemed like the right thing to do although. Now that she’s standing across him, words restlessly strung together, Lincoln regrets it with every fibre of his being. Ogling at the girl —- as if though she was the one who’d come knocking on his door, completely unannounced, rather than the other way around, he reaches to uneasily scratch at the nape of his heated neck. ❛ I— never-mind ! ——— now doesn’t seem like a good time..., I uh— I shouldn’t have, I’ll..., I’ll go. ❜

              So, this wasn’t nearly as bad as Lincoln had assumed it would be. Granted it had only been about fifteen minutes since he’d been in the women’s presence but fifteen minutes were normally enough for Lincoln to conjure some sort of an impression — he sure as hell knew that he wouldn’t hate her and that had to count for something.  ❛ I mean, you look a hell lot better than I do in a robe, ❜ the male lets out a feeble chuckle. Relieved that she isn’t allergic to the flowers or worse, repulsed by them, he offers her a nod, his blue hues instinctively travelling across her curvesome silhouette as she turned her back, striding away with the flowers in hand.  ❛ I'm glad you like ‘em— Ness— ❜ Lincoln bites his tongue sharply. Mentioning his dead wife on a first date —- he’d been out of the dating game long but he’d have to be a total fucking imbecile to think that was a good idea. ❛ I mean— yeah, I’m just glad you like ‘em, ❜ he calls out, loud enough for her to hear over the wall that separates them. He offers her a small smile as she mentions getting dressed, before his own gaze begins to curiously wander across her pleasant home. It’s as if though he’s looking for a reason to get the hell out of this place — he wasn’t ready for dating, he should have flaked while he could have. However, when Lincoln can’t seem to place a calloused thumb on anything that remotely signals a red alert, he breathes out a defeated sigh. Maybe he could fake sick? She was a pretty woman, real fucking pretty and he’d do nothing but bore her to death ; he didn’t have anything in common her, she was probably engaging and delightful and Lincoln, surly and drudging. Engrossed in his muddled thoughts, he hardly notices when the brunette reenters the room. Blue eyes rushing to meet her gaze, Lincoln’s lips can’t help but twitch at the corner — it’s not a full smile because Lincoln likes to tell himself he doesn’t smile but it’s damn near close. ❛ You look— ❜ His gaze trudges across her effortless allure, fingers reaching to brush through his brown locks.  ❛ Incredible. I mean— Not intimidatingly incredible ‘cause I woulda felt underdressed as hell but— ❜ Apparently he had two moods, either he wouldn’t talk or he couldn’t shut the fuck up. ❛ Sorry, I haven’t really done this in a real long time so I guess I’m just a little bit, nervous? ❜