Tumgik
#and it also seemed impossible to do for me
pb524830 · 2 days
Text
right where you left me
part: 1 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language a/n: heyyyy everyone! my anons have been begging for another series like anyone else, so here's one i've been thinking about for a second and finally put to paper. i hope you like this just as much as 'anyone else'. btw, if you guys want to send in long ass asks live reacting to my writing (whoever @imaginespazzi 's anon is that does this, i LOVE it) it's such a great way to know what you do and don't like about my writing, and i'd so appreciate it. love you guys!
I blink as the sun hits my eyes, almost blinding me. I stretch at my front door, loosening my muscles that are still a little tight from sleep. I squint against the blaring sunlight, then push my AirPods in and start off down my street. It’s this quaint little neighborhood in Virginia, a not-too-far cry from my home state of Minnesota. 
My run is peaceful, Kendrick Lamar blaring in my ears, the music a smooth symphony of artful lyrics backed by a spurring beat. I take down about three miles, reaching what looks to be an old basketball court before slowing to a jog, then a halt. I pant, placing my hands on my hips and allowing my chest to heave as I recover from the run. My sports bra and shorts are soaked with sweat, but the summer air is refreshing.
I tip my head back, soaking in the sun, when I hear a voice behind me. “Hey, you shooting or…” I whip my head around, the voice impossibly and frighteningly familiar. 
No fucking way.
“Maya.”
“Paige,” I breathe. 
She hesitates, a ball braced at her side, and it looks so natural, just as it always has. She’s wearing a white tee shirt and dark shorts, with blue, red, and white shoes on her feet. Her hair is parted down the middle, slung into a bun at the base of her neck. My breath catches when my eyes meet her stark, blue ones - pools of crystal that glimmer in the summer sun. Her limbs are long and she’s tan, her lips stuck in that damned half-smirk that used to drive me crazy. It fades from her face a little as she takes me in, and I cross my arms over my stomach self-consciously.
“What are you… what are you doing here?” I swallow hard as I stutter over my words.
She coughs awkwardly, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. “My friend, Azzi - don’t know if you remember her, um… She lives here. In this neighborhood. But we also moved to Virginia when we- when I left for school.”
I remember Azzi. She was one of Paige’s basketball friends, a tall, pretty girl with dark hair and a kind smile. Paige clears her throat. “You… uh, what about you?” I blink. “Oh, um. Yeah, same, actually, my family moved here. Also.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
We’re quiet for a few more minutes. It’s my turn to clear my throat awkwardly.
“Still dancing?” She asks. 
I laugh nervously. “Can’t seem to stop. Still hooping?”
She smiles a little more at that. “Can’t seem to stop,” she echoes back to me. Paige hesitates for a moment.
“You look good,” she admits after a few moments.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Thanks, um… you do, too. Look good, I mean. You look great!”
She raises an eyebrow at my rambling. “Great?” She muses.
I scoff. “No, good. You look good.”
“No, I got it the first time.” Her smirk is widening, her tone teasing.
“Good.”
“Not great?” She’s pushing my buttons now.
“Paige, stop,” I blurt out.
It hangs over us - my usage of her name, the undeniable tension that lingers in the air, nearly suffocating. 
She looks down at the ground, kicking at it. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 
I sigh. “No, you’re fine. I should- I should go.”
“Maya, don’t do that. Look, I’m sorry-”
“No, I should get home. It was good to see you.” 
Stubbornly, I plug my headphones in, pretending not to hear her voice calling out my name, the sound of it echoing behind me, praying I can drown out the past if I just turn my music up loud enough.
************
“You’re doing it wrong. Put your foot down on the off beat.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Paige demands, and I bite back a grin.
Patiently, I re-explain the 8 count to her. “It’s just a stupid TikTok. Bro, you’re so extra,” she whines. I hold my hands up. “You’re the one who said you wanted to learn it for real. Like, dancer-style.” 
“I never said that.”
“I think those were actually your exact words. Okay, look-”
Paige groans. “Can we take a break?” She begs, grabbing her phone and tossing it onto her bed. She collapses onto it right after, shrugging her shirt off before falling back onto the pillows. I roll my eyes, grabbing my own phone. I sigh, looking at my notifications. Paige’s eyes flicker to mine. “What? Nicky again?” I shake my head. “It’s just… I need to break up with her.” Paige tries and fails to stifle a grin. “You think she knows?” She asks. There’s a hint of smugness to her tone that I don’t like. 
I narrow my eyes as she eases off the bed and approaches me, slinging her arms around my waist. “Knows what?” I ask. Paige smirks. “You know what,” she smiles, dipping her head to mine. I shove at her chest, but she pulls me closer. “Knows what we’re really doing?” Paige teases. “Shut up, Paige,” I chide, but she moves in, anyway, slotting her lips against mine in a slow, meaningful kiss.
Her lips work against mine skillfully, and though I’ve only kissed Paige a few times by now, melting into her is only instinct. “Did you eat my Nerds?” She demands, pulling away and licking her lips. I crinkle my nose at her. “Maybe?” She shakes her head at me, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she hoists me up, tossing me onto the bed. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she warns playfully, before tackling me, fingers poking into my sides and eliciting raucous laughter from the both of us. “Okay, okay! I’ll buy you more, stop! Stop!” I shriek. She collapses on top of me, ignoring the way I push at her shoulders. 
Paige stares down at me, then leans down to connect our lips again, mouth dancing languidly with mine. I sigh, pushing a hand into her hair and responding eagerly, winding my leg between hers. “Tell her,” she urges, pecking me once. I sigh. “I know. I feel awful about it.” She pushes her body slightly up and nudges my nose with hers. “Come on. She’s not stupid.” She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re… obvious. You know?” I raise my eyebrow. “If you mean that everyone can tell how bad you want me, then yeah,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth, hitting me on the shoulder. “Tch. You know what I mean. We… were gonna happen.”
I grin at her, though I don’t mean to. “You seem pretty confident about that,” I muse. She grins back at me, her mouth hovering over mine. “Good. I am.”
***************
My run home is more of a sprint, and I’m absolutely spent when I shove through my front door. “Maya!” My mom calls. “Come help with the groceries!” I oblige, unlacing my shoes and skidding into the kitchen. My mom’s head is stuck in the fridge, trying to make room for all the new produce she’s just bought, so I make myself busy storing away the pantry foods.
“You will not believe who I ran into at the store!” My mom exclaims, poking her head out from behind the fridge door. She’s still in her scrubs, probably just having finished off a shift at work. I raise an eyebrow. “Michelle Obama?” I ask. She frowns at me. “You’re not funny.” I shrug. “I beg to differ.” 
My mom is definitely more of my best friend than my actual mom. I mean, she works so much, and I’ve had to practically raise my brother. Plus, with my dad out of the picture since… forever, she’s really all I had.
“Anyway,” she says pointedly, dusting off her hands. “I was at the store, and I ran into Bob Bueckers! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen the Bueckers’ in years, and you and Paige were so close…” My mom continues speaking, I’m sure, but there’s a sudden muffled tone to it, like there’s water in my ears. 
It’s just the mention of her name. I hadn’t heard it in years, had tried my best not to even think of her because I knew it would hurt. And seeing her today…
It isn’t fair. She does look great - better, somehow. Not the tall, lanky teenager I was used to. She’s a whole woman, now - muscled and lean, much more sure of herself. And yet… so much is the same - that damned perpetual half smile on her face, the way she tilts her head, the way her eyes glint. I can’t help but wonder if other things are the same, as well.
If her hands are as warm as they always used to be.
If she still picks her face when she’s nervous.
Fuck. Stop it.
“Did you hear what I said, sweetie?”
I shake my head out of my reverie, turning back to my mom. “Uh, no?”
“I invited them over for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”
I splutter, processing what she’s just said. “I’m sorry. You what?”
*************************************
“Uh… here.”
I gingerly take the loaf of banana bread from Paige. I don’t meet her eyes as I let her, her brother, her dad, and her stepmom into the house. “Thanks,” I mumble. Drew stares up at me. “You look different,” he says matter of factly. I smile a little at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I tease. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll let you know,” he informs me, then skips past me. My little brother, Matthew, catches sight of him, and the two of them run off eagerly to play together.
My heart squeezes a bit at this. I hadn’t realized that Paige and I… growing apart, I suppose one could call it, would mean that our brothers would lose a friendship, too. “He’s, uh… He’s tall, now,” she tries, hesitantly. I glance up at her from the side of my eye, walking to place the dessert on the dining table. She follows me. I hate that she does. I hate that she still smells like herself, that the way she looms over me feels oh-so-familiar.
I toy with the sleeve of my top nervously. “Is that- is that mine?” Paige blurts out suddenly. I glance down at my navy blue top, and my eyes widen. She’s right. It is her shirt, and I hadn’t even realized. It’s a bit big on me, and I’d found it in a box after we’d moved to the new house. “Oh. I guess so, do you want it back? I can go change?” I yammer, and she shakes her head frantically. “No! You don’t have to- That’s not what I meant, you-” She clears her throat.
“It looks nice on you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I chance a glance at my feet, my hands, anywhere but her. She sighs. “Well, this is fucking awkward,” she mutters. I laugh hollowly. “Whose fault is that, hm?” I say, and I can’t keep the acrid taste of resentment out of my voice. I don’t miss the way her eyes flit to mine, mouth twisting with an unspoken response. “Maya-” she starts. “We should go help,” I interrupt, turning on my heel and walking quickly to the kitchen. 
As though it couldn’t get any more awkward, Paige ends up right across from me at dinner. Our parents chatter away, our little brothers in some heated discussion about basketball, and all she and I can do is pick at our food. There are onions in the stir-fry my mom made.
Paige hates onions.
I stifle a grin, despite myself. She’ll eat them, anyway, but I see her pushing them around her plate, putting it off. “Problem, Paige?” I ask sweetly. She narrows her eyes at me. “Not at all,” she shoots back. My mom abruptly stops the conversation she’s having. “Are you alright, honey? Is the food okay?” Paige nods hastily.
“Yes, Ms. Jacobs! It’s so good,” she reassures her. My mom cocks her head, sharp as ever. “Well, you’ve hardly touched it!” I bite back a laugh as Paige shovels a huge scoop into her mouth. “Really good,” she says around the food, smiling as best as she can at my mom. My mom nods, satisfied, and turns away. Paige shoots me a look, kicking me under the table.
I’m shocked. So shocked that the action is natural for her, and shocked at what I do next: kick her back. She gasps, and I guess the huge bite she’s just taken goes down the wrong pipe. She begins coughing violently, and my eyes widen. “Paige? Maya, honey, take her to the kitchen! Get her some water,” she instructs, concerned. Paige thumps her chest, holding up a hand. “All good, I swear,” she tries to say, but her coughs swallow her words.
“Okay, get up. Come on,” I sigh, walking around the table to haul her to her feet by her elbow. I drag her to the kitchen, patting her on the back. I hand her a water bottle from the fridge and she accepts it gratefully. When she looks to the ceiling, her eyes are glassy with tears. “You’re such a little shit,” I sneer. “Me?” She demands indignantly. “Yes! I didn’t even kick you that hard,” I complain.
She raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to show you?”
“You kicked me first!” 
“You were instigating,” she hisses back.
“Spell ‘instigating’, Paige.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Find someone else to do it. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”
We both fall silent at that. Then, realizing how close we’ve gotten, we back away.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
She sighs. “No, it’s… I deserve that.”
I bite my lip, glancing at the ceiling. “It’s fine. It’s been… what, three years?”
“Still. I should’ve-”
“Look, dude, I’m over it. I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say. Lies. I’m not over it. Not even close. 
She blinks. “Yeah, no. Of course. I’m- I’m over it, too.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
It’s so painfully awkward that I want to scream. This is someone who had seen me at my worst, who had held me sobbing when I hadn’t gotten into the school I wanted.
This is the person who sat with me when my dad died, and I had grappled with the grief of losing someone I had hardly ever known. 
This is the person who had seen all of me, who had taken my virginity, who had kissed away all my fears and made me feel loved and safe and whole - and the person who had made all of that come crashing down in one fell swoop.
And now I look at her, standing in my kitchen, far from the Minnesota homes we both grew up in. The sharp pain of ‘I don’t fucking know you anymore’ stabs at my heart, nestles into my throat, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. 
I turn away from her and march back into the dining room.
I’m done letting her make me cry.
It’s later that night, long after Paige and her family have left, when I’m finishing up washing the dishes that I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if my mom is expecting someone. Drying my hands off with a towel, I warily open the door.
It’s Paige. My breath catches.
“Hi,” she starts uneasily.
“Hey. Did you forget something?” I ask, keeping my distance.
“Huh? Oh, no. I just…” She swallows hard, looking at her feet.
She clears her throat. “Can we talk?”
246 notes · View notes
von2dutch · 1 day
Text
Sugar Baby | Jey Uso
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.
Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 3.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY
A/N This is my first time writing on here so bear with me I’m new to learning the app I hope you all enjoy it it’s also my first time writing a Jey uso fanfic so please go easy on me. A few writers inspired me to want to write about him I’m not sure if they want to be tagged I don’t want to seem disrespectful but if they do I’ll gladly @ them!
Lastly , Enjoy
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dakota groaned in discomfort, "Ugh, jeez, I'm so sore, I can barely stand..." Jasmine chuckled in agreement, "Haha, I know right? I didn't expect that workout to be so intense.
“Me neither, my whole body is killing me right now…girl remind me to never come to the gym with your ass!” Dakota Murmured in a low breathing trying to regain her breath, her hands kneeled down on her knees taking each breath one at a time. Before standing tall grabbing her water to follow jasmine lead to the front desk.
“girl please all that ass you got you should want to be in shape for your old man sugar daddy.”
Dakota stopped in her tracks staring a hole into her best friend of 6 years in the head, with a mug plastered over her face she spoke again “Omg for the last time that man isn’t that old and he ain’t my sugar daddy!”
Jasmine looked back pursuing her lips together looking at her best friend like she was dumb “whatever you say ms.like em’ old.”
“But ion blame you because last time you came to me with your wig completely fucked up after seeing him, fuck he got super dick?”
Dakota chuckled at her best friends antics seemingly use to it but without jasmine in her life she wouldn’t have any entertainment without her silly jokes.
“No he just knows how to work this thang!” Dakota laughed before sticking her tongue out as the two walked up to the front desk.
While Dakota was focused on making another week ahead for the gym next week, Jasmine eyes were stuck on whoever just walked into the gym.
Jasmine Nuged Dakota shoulder before she turned around with a mug irritated already by her bothering her with Dakota already being tired and trained from an intense workout the two just had “Ain’t that your boy or should I say ol’ man.”
Dakota knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and also curiosity as she turned her body and attention to wherever jasmine focused was and there he was.
Jey Uso
In the flesh there he was looking ever so good , his presence so commanding and charismatic that she couldn't help but admire him with his twin brother Jimmy and a little behind them was their younger brother solo, walking. As they approached a group of men, it looked as if they beckoned them over with friendly gestures.
As Dakota glanced over at Joshua, she couldn't help but take notice of his impressive attire. He was sporting a pair of blue Nike shorts that hugged his body in all the right places, along with black Nike socks that were neatly tucked into his white gym shoes. On his head, he wore a fitted black bloodline hat, which was turned backwards and allowed his mullet to peek through the back. The red tips of his hair added a touch of boldness to his overall look, which suited him perfectly. As he stood there with his bare chest on display, his chiseled abs were impossible to miss. Tribal tattoos adorned his arms and chest, with two more visible on his back. All in all, Joshua's appearance was a sight to behold.
She watched as he greeted the three men before grasping both hands onto a pull up bar his palms facing away from him lifting his entire body going up and down up and down as she watched closely.
She couldn’t help but to stare at his bare back moving ever so smoothly, he hung his body up back and forth downwards she got a flashback from their last meet up two months ago which made her bite her lip titling her head slightly watching as he kept going.
Flashback
“Move yo hand this what you wanted right?” Jey responded to Dakota as she pleaded for him to slow down she tried to push him back away from her as he dicked her down so deep she could Hardly breathe.
she burried her head into the white colored sheets of the hotel room she couldn’t help but cry tears of joy but also pain as his strokes got deeper and deeper from behind “Jeyyyy…b-baby slow down…ugh.”
“Nah you talked all that shit on the phone, I wanna see you take all this dick don’t run from it.”
“Ion even know why you like to play with me princess, you know I’ll fly yo’ ass out to fuck you up.” Joshua spoke with Venom in his voice as his chest heaved up and down, chest beaming with sweat. he pushed a hand down on her neck to pin her down further her ass purked up nicely in his view.
It all started with Dakota missing him which resulted in her being a bitch towards Jey, calling him out his name as far as a “bitch” because he hadn’t been paying her no attention at all the past few weeks. She knew he had a tight schedule as a professional wrestler which has his undefined attention at all times but she also wanted his attention as well even with her just being a sugar baby known as a woman he just used for sex and entertainment when he wanted it.
Now here she was ass up face down and burried into the white sheets of his hotel room as he fucked her viciously from behind pining her down to the bed so she couldn’t run with no where to go. He wanted her to feel all of him from anger slightly misplaced with lust.
“Nah baby use this dick and fuck me back , daddy ain’t going no where.”
Dakota did as told throwing her ass back on him but with much more force while she occupied her fingers underneath her playing with herself. She felt so much pressure and pain all in one her feet became hot with them curled up as he went deeper with each stroke he took.
Taking her breath away literally.
“Mhm you taking this dick like a good girl huh?” Jey rasped slamming into her making Dakota let out a loud moan.
She could feel her body become hot as she felt a knot in her stomach indicating she was about to cum.
“shit!” She cursed under her breath, Jey thrusting into her wet gushy insides.
Joshua watched his dick slide in and out Dakota’s hole, her white creams painting his beautiful Carmel dick, his balls slapping against her clit with every hard thrust he took.
Dakota let out beautiful whimpers, her ass and titties jiggling with the rhythm of Jey’s hard strokes.
Jey grabbed Dakota’s hair, wrapping it around his fist as he thrusted into her harder.
Josh pulled on her hair, forcing her head up as she looked at herself through a the mirror which was in the corner of the room. Her make up smeared with tears , hair all over the place she knew she would need a redo on her hair when she got back home to Atlanta. Her mouth agape as she let out loud moans which couldn’t be heard outside of the hotel room from how thick and sound proof the walls were.
“Uh huh, daddy deep in his pussy ain’t he?” he questioned panting, his tattooed chest heaving up and down.
when Dakota didn’t answer Jey yanked her hair making Dakota let out a loud moan.
“shit! Y-yes daddy it’s fucking deep!” she cried out as tears cascaded her pretty Carmel cheeks.
Jey smiled deviously at her through the mirror, sliver jeweled grills peaking through. feeling her walls clench around him he groaned. he sent a hard snack to Dakota’s ass, “you throwing that ass back like a big girl , baby? You gon’ keep taking this dick like one too.”
Dakota did as told, her taking control again as she bounced back and forth on his length, Joshua bit his lip watching his dick disappear into her whole every time.
The one thing he missed the most was her ass jiggling from behind as he buried his dick deep inside her, her smooth toned back arched ever so slight but at the moment her chest laid flat on the bed while he continued his torture.
“fuck!” Dakota moaned with her face planted in the bed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she continued rocking her body.
“Un huh, Baby take this dick.”
“you gotta cum, ma?” Jey questioned, grunting afterwards.
“yes!” Dakota whined reaching her hand underneath her and rubbing at her clit once more, her legs trembling outrageously.
Jey bit his lip harshly, blood drawing as he groaned at the metallic taste.
“gon head Dakota .” He rasped, on cue Dakota and Joshua reached their limits. Her white creams painted all over his dick, her juices squirted out of her and onto Jey’s lower stomach.
Flashback over
“Dakota!” Jasmine's voice echoed through Dakota’s empty ears as she called out to her best friend Dakota, who seemed lost in thought. "Dakota! Dakota, Dakota?!!" she repeated, her tone growing more urgent and annoyed with each call. She wondered what could be occupying Dakota's mind so much that she didn't even hear her friend's voice.
Then it hit her. Jey he was who had her so snapped out of it she watched her best friend bite her lip in daze a, watching him do repeated pull ups.
Finally After staring into the distance for a while, Dakota was brought back to reality when she heard someone calling her name. With a confused look on her face, she looked up and stuttered, "H-huh, what did you say, Jas?"
“I said there go ya’ boy and there he is right now making his way over.” Jasmine said as he indeed was making his way over to them while Dakota mouth hung low she tried her to best to maintain herself. She often felt nervous around Josh and she herself didn’t know why because she wasn’t a shy woman but with him? He had her shy like a school girl.
“Wassup jasmine.” Jey greeted Jasmine with a friendly head nod and a warm smile, before turning his attention to Dakota. With a mischievous grin and a wink “and hey pretty mama.”
With a mischievous grin, he knew exactly what to say to make her radiant smile light up the room. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help but notice the intricate details of her gym outfit, appreciating the way it hugged her curves and highlighted her strong physique.
She wore Black gymshark vital seamless neck sports bra with vital seamless black shorts that hugged her body waist down ever so gently which showed her ass out more flaw. Her breast glazed with sweat as it stucked together almost peeling out of the sports bra her nipples hard as ever from how cold the gym was. Accompanied with white socks and grey gym shoes.
She looked damn good.
“Hey Josh.” She smiled dimples ever so deep into her skin that her pearly white teeth showed all of her teeth from how big she smiled. Gushing with butterflies in her stomach if she was any lighter you could see how red her face was from blushing.
“Hey Josh.” Jasmine mumbled mimicking her with an eye roll immensely laughing at how shy her best friend was. In 27 years of knowing her she never saw her best friend so shy she was always a Fierce Woman, very outspoken. So to see her like this so gushed over this man was surprising and undoubtedly hilarious.
“Shut up.” Dakota mumbled gritting through her teeth while she tried to keep a smile on her face.
To break the awkward silence Josh spoke “Uhh so you leaving?”
“Oh yeah me and jasmine are finished for the day and go grab some food then head home and shower. I see you’re with your brother.”
“Yeah he wanted to come to the gym before the big night Monday.”
“Well it was nice seeing yo— nah we ain’t gon end it like that ma gimme me a hug uce.” Josh insisted opening his arms for a hug she embraced him her hands rubbing against his bare back.
His entire body felt so soft and warm along with his significant cologne he always wore that drove her crazy with how good he smelled.
Josh hands snaked down to her ass grabbing it gently with a soft smack before leaving a wet kiss on her neck before whispering. “You might wanna cover that up uce.” He chuckled at her eyes bucking at the embarrassment she felt when she realized he was referring to the hickey on her neck that her gave her last month.
Gasping she quickly covered it with her hand before grabbing Jasmines hand leading her out the door “Bye Josh!”
“Girllll that man got you whipped huh!” Jasmine joked laughing at how school girl he had Dakota before unlocking the doors to her Mercedes Benz truck both hopping in.
“Whatever.”
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
• Instagram story
Dakota.Valentine • 25 secs ago
Tumblr media
“Bye Josh.” Dakota chuckled at a TikTok he sent her via message, before hearting it smiling ear from ear. It was a TikTok of a man buying his girlfriend chicken wings when she asked for wings as in pads for her menstrual cycle but he got her wingstop with jey replying with a “Gon be me when you come back over my house, yeet!”
“Oh you in love.” Jasmine affirmed looking at her best friend blush at her phone something she did their whole lunch.
“I am not!”
“Is too!”
Dakota fixed her posture in her seat now facing jasmine directly placing her phone face down on the table giving her undefined attention “and what makes you possible think that?”
“Hmm well for starters the man bough you a mirror vanity with a Chanel purse and a basket of fruit all because you said you wanted to show yourself this year and do beauty content for social media.”
“Then he buys you roses every month even if he misses a few days he buys dozens for each day he missed along with a stack of money, he as well spoils you with gifts, paid for you to go to talum for your birthday, bought you a ring and also rented out a mall for the both of you so you could shop dedicating the whole day to you with a massage, paid for your hair , nails, AND makes sure you eat paying for every meal plus he took you on how many dates?”
“Shall I go on?”
Dakota sat there taking in everything her best friend was saying with nothing to deflect with, she was right Joshua did all those things without her having to asking for anything he just did it because whatever he saw that he thought would look good on her or what made her smile the biggest he got it.
“Then you cook for him everytime he’s in town for his Monday night raw and smack down shows in Atl kota.” Jasmine stated pursing her lips together while she waited for a response. Dakota sat there with a dumbfounded expression.
Thats when realization sat in she realized she was in love, he did so many things for her that she never had done before not even in past relationship. He was there for her in so many ways than just sex, he was there emotionally, physically , and mentally. He cared deeply for Dakota as much as she cared for him. They’ve Had deep conversations about life and marriage something neither ever done with anyone they connected on a deeper level than Just sex he was there for her when she lost her mother a few months back and ever since then he never left her side he was always there.
Despite his best efforts to hide it, Joshua was undeniably smitten with Dakota. Though he was a more mature and experienced man, he couldn't help but pour his heart out to her, showering her with a level of affection she had never before experienced in her life. His love for her was pure and genuine, and she could sense it in every little thing he did.
Despite her best efforts to be difficult and toxic, he always handled her with care and honesty. He was the type of man who never played games, especially when it came to business. He led with authority, yet he had a soft and gentle side. He was dominant without being aggressive but real smooth but you knew he ran shit. His charismatic and funny personality, his loving nature, and his hardworking aura made her focus on him completely. Whenever she was around him, she felt safe and comfortable, knowing that he would always be there to protect and support her.
In past relationships Dakota had never felt safe nor comfortable with men but with Josh it all felt so natural.
The two meet at a bar in Pensacola , Florida where Dakota was in town visiting a client of hers for styling. She was a celebrity stylist, she loved fashion and always dreamed of being a fashion designer or stylist. While she sat at the bar alone josh couldn’t help but stare at the young women, her soft brown legs shined with baby oil along with a black dress that hugged her body so tightly and well , a face a man would die for but he thought her face was better to nut on in his dirty mind.
He walked up to her with a few smooth and flirtatious words which pulled her in instantly jey was always smooth with the ladies. A ladies man of course. With that he prospered to her a deal that he spoiled her of course as well as have sex with her but no string attached as well kinda friends with benefits or a sugar daddy which he wouldn’t call it more so tricking with sex alongside.
Jey was 32 years old and Dakota was four years younger than him at 27. Despite the age difference, the two were still deeply attracted to each other. However, when Dakota was first presented with the proposal that she didn't quite understand or want to accept, she hesitated. The idea of doing something like that was foreign to her, but a little voice in her head, which she recognized as Jasmine's, urged her to "get that money, bitch!" Despite already having her own source of income, Dakota eventually agreed to the proposal.
Starting from the summer of July 2022, the two individuals became inseparable. Their bond grew stronger as they spent time together, and before they knew it, January 2023 had arrived, marking the beginning of a new year that they brought in together. Despite the initial plan to spend only three months together, Josh kept extending their time together, much to the surprise of his companion. She found it odd that he was reluctant to part ways and kept prolonging their time together, but she couldn't help but wonder why.
Was he also in love?
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
All I really want to say my darling
Today is a special day we call our own
So take me in your arms and hold me
And tell me you love me
And I'll be there for you
The soft lyrics of Tony! Toni! Tone! Played throughout Dakotas high rise apartment while she finished up on the last touch’s of the cornbread. Dakota was cooking baked macaroni, yams, collard greens, fire chicken with a side of duffeled eggs.
A loud thud on the counter went off as her phone ding with a text message from Jey.
iMessage
Yeet master jey!❤️
I’m here come open the door lady uce!
After meticulously washing her hands, she swiftly dried them off to ensure there were no traces of germs left on her skin. As she reached the door, she saw Josh standing outside, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses in his left hand. A wide smile appeared on her face as she approached him, and he opened his arms, inviting her in for a warm embrace. "Jey, I missed you!" she exclaimed before jumping into his arms. He caught her effortlessly with just one arm, and the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter, filled with joy and happiness as they held each other tightly.
“I missed you too ko.” Dakota heart warmed at the small nickname he gave her.
“Aww are these for me?” She smiled widely taking the rose from jey she walked towards the kitchen sitting them on the counter. “Of course gotta get my princess something.”
Cheesing to herself she inquired him with a question “Mmhm when were you going to tell me you was in town?”
“Well I was tryna surprise you but I saw you all at the gym looking gorgeous.” He stated wrapping his arms around Dakota from behind he moved her hair out her face leaving a few wet on her neck she responded with a low moan.
“Unt unt let me finish cooking Josh.” She chuckled at his antics of trying to seduce her but she had other plans in mind.
Stepping back with his hands in surrender he spoke “alright alright but how you been? You’ve been eating?” He caressed her cheek staring into her brown hazel nut eyes. “Yes jey I have.”
“You better.” He pecked her lips a few times before moving back looking over her admiring her body.
Dakota has fell into small depression she thought maybe she was too big and wanted to be slimmer so she stopped eating to lose weight and also in the gym but Jey put a stop to that immediately because she was perfect the way she was and she wouldn’t want her any other way.
“I missed you.” Jey spoke with their soft eyes looking directly At Dakota.
“I missed you more.” She responded softly turning her body to face him.
“Missed you so much girl.” He embraced her into a hug, hugging tight as he wrapped his legs around her like spider man hanging his feet in the cabinet while she laughed at his goofy self “It’s all you girl!”
“All you girl!”
“Omg Joshua what is wrong with you.” Dakota laughed once more her stomach hurting from much she laughed her cheeks sore a bit from how hard she smiled. She was in love.
Letting her go he left a few kisses all over her face till she laughed Again before asking her something “So umm…I got a show tomorrow and I want you come.” He asked shyly as if it was the first time he ever took her one of his shows to watch him to wrestle.
“Of course! I’d love to watch you beat some ass.” She smiled punching at his chest playfully.
“Good cause Jimmy been asking about you “where koko?”josh mimicked his twin brother Jonathan earring a small laugh from Dakota.
“Aww my good ol’ friend can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”
“Plus tomorrow is raw XXX tomorrow you know it’s gon be lit.” Smiles thinking about what was in store tomorrow for the fans which included the bloodline with Sami Zayn.
“Oh tell your little girlfriend stop messaging me I’ll hate to beat a bitch.” Dakota scolded Josh rolling her eyes.
Who?
“You know who”
As jey stood there in thought as if he was dumb he then realized who she was talking about “oh Chanel?” He said still acting clueless.
“Who the fuck else Joshua!” She raised her voice slightly removing his arms from around her.
Chanel was an old mistress of Jeys and he broke things off with her two months in but she couldn’t take him leaving her due to the contract ending so she stalked him and was a bitch to every new woman he used for sex and entertainment which was Dakota. It all started in September when Josh and Dakota where out at a restaurant having a few drinks and dinner when Chanel popped up on the two “Oh so this why you’ve been ignoring for this new bitch?!” Channel shouted in the restaurant cashing a scene.
Which escalated in her and Dakota having a back and forth because in all Dakota wasn’t fighting over no man especially not jey no matter how charming he was she wasn’t but the disrespect she took from Chanel wasn’t going to keep happening.
“Look I told you she ain’t my girl and plus ima handle it.” Jey reassured Dakota waving her off.
“You better because I’ll hate to gut a bitch eyes out. Keep fucking with m— What I say?” He cut her off glaring at her with dominance.
“Okay I heard you.” She pouted “but you better handle it cause I don’t have time.” She sighed wrapping her arms around her chest.
Pulling her into an embrace he wrapped his arms around her body rubbing up and down her sides soft and smoothly. “I said I got Dakota don’t worry okay?”
“Okay.”
For a while there was some silence the only thing that could be heard was the music being played from her speaker that was a till she broke the silence with a question “can I ask you something?”
“Yeah , go ahead.”
Dakota started to think back on what Jasmine said was she in love with Josh? Was he in love with her? The question lingered in her mind so much she needed to to know. Even with them not supposed to falling eachother because of the agreement of no strings attached she couldn’t help but fall for him.
“Do your ever….think maybe we could be a couple?” She questioned with pleading eyes but also wanting honesty with anything he threw at her.
Jey thought long and hard for a min before giving her an answer “Honestly no, I mean you’re a gorgeous and talented woman but Dakota we both know this isn’t what we agreed to no strings attached and after a divorce I went through a year ago I ain’t ready for another relationship.”
“You’re just another one of my clients.”
Everything hit her deep in the heart like someone stabbed after hearing those words everything shattered for her. What was she thinking? She didn’t know she even thought he would ever slow down things for her just because he had sex with her but she had hoped
Maybe she wasn’t in love.
To be continued.
Tumblr media
I hope you all enjoyed this! More to come let me know if you want chapter two of this series? Also leave comments.
Opinions on jey, Dakota, jasmine , or even Chanel?
How we thinking about the relationship of Jey and Dakota will they fall for each other in the long run?
Lmk and again thank you for reading I hope you all enjoyed! Excuse any mistakes please till next!🎀
Also if you want to be added for a tag-list comment and I got you!
190 notes · View notes
vitaminseetarot · 2 days
Text
Poll PAC: What Your Next Birthday Celebration Will Be Like 🎂🎉🎁
Tumblr media
Sup y'all, welcome back to another PAC reading. This time I'm doing a special 1 year/birthday/poll topic of choice themed pick a card! This is also a special one as VitaminSee now has 300 followers! Holy crap thank you for your support everyone! I haven't been able to get on Tumblr for a while, so I apologize if it seems like I've dropped from the aether. Life is starting to enter its hectic phase right now! Thank you so much for your patience. I'm waiting for life things to straighten out (lol as if life ever does) before I go ahead and offer some basic paid readings, which I hope to do in May.
This topic is for the next birthday you have coming up, whether that's tomorrow or next year. For my selection, I was recently lucky to have found the Wild Wisdom Companion book among a vast pile of discounted books. It's based on the Wheel of the Year. I thought this deck was perfect for making piles themed around the progression of the year and how our birthdays respond to the passage of the seasons. Pick whichever one of the Spring themed card you like most down below:
Pile 1 - The Unfurling 🌱 Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊 Pile 3 - The Door 🗝 Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pile 1 - The Unfurling
Tumblr media
Sagittarius - Expand, Level Up, Shadow, Isolation; XVII Star, 3 of Cups, XXI World, Ace of Wands, 5 of Cups
Hello, pile 1! Your birthday is going to be the start of great expansion. Your first three oracle cards spell it out so clearly! Sagittarius is all about shooting for seemingly farfetched goals and striking the target anyway. There is so much growth going on in your pile. You're probably anticipating your next chapter to be one of reaching beyond the horizon and feeling ready to do so. Ideas or wishes that seemed impossible may be coming closer to being within your grasp. Your life is ready to take it up a notch immediately after your next birthday, where things may begin to feel like they're accelerating. Don't worry about the turbulence, it's all a part of the movement. Breaking out of your comfort zone may feel scary, but something about your next birthday will set off a chain of events that will propel you to a new phase of life.
I have a feeling that many who choose this pile will be in a transitory stage of life, like you're getting ready to start college or a new job around your birthday. It's not just another year older, this next one will be extra meaningful in terms of receiving something you've been longing for in quite some time. It's something you've been greatly eager to begin. I don't any sense that you'll be looking back too much once you go forward, since you'll be thrust rather quickly in your next chapter.
But it's still okay if you're experiencing anxiety over it, even if it's something you've really wanted. Anxiety, doubt, and fear are not necessarily indicators that something isn't right for you. It's normal to get cold feet in this context. A sprout breaking from its seed shell is no small feat; it requires a great amount of momentum and motivation. Congratulate yourself for having come this far. Let your birthday be a chance to celebrate this. Give yourself the opportunity to commemorate with friends, if they wanna help give you a birthday to remember then let them. They may feel the vibe as much as you will on that day. Don't be afraid to take that day trip out to a new place you've never seen.
What's interesting about the Isolation card is that it shows two cups. There is meanwhile a Friendship card in this deck with only one cup. So I don't know if the words were swapped with the images or what, but the sense I get is that you will very likely be in good company during your birthday. They may want to take you out dancing (the Ace of Wands is reminding me of disco lights). However, even in the midst of the event, you may feel the urge to hide away from the crowd. I'm picturing someone stepping out of a house during a party. You may need to catch your breath at times in order to process the emotions you're experiencing, as you have a lot of energetic, lit up cards just before the five of cups.
Again, getting in dark negative moods is normal when you're facing a big new stage is not indicative that things will go wrong if it's something you know you're looking forward to. If you end up spending most of the day with friends, find some space to be at peace by yourself so you can even out your feelings. These intense moods will come and go on their own, so make sure to stay balanced (and not too overly caffeinated lol) on your birthday.
Tumblr media
Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊
Tumblr media
Third House - Communication, A New Day, Ball Pits, Family; 10 of Swords, 5 of Cups, III Empress, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Cups
How's it going pile 2? I couldn't help but notice you have two pairs of swallows in your reading. Birds may have some significance for you, maybe you'll go birdwatching or even get a pet bird. For a small number of you, the birthday could involve a plane flight out of home for a quick trip. Could you be visiting family members? There's a lot of communication going on, for sure. Even if you're not traveling out by flight, you may have family members show up to take you out somewhere. They may be insistent on seeing you, talking to you, and spending time with you. The phone might blow up first thing in the morning with notifications and voicemail.
But I'm seeing a lot of hesitance in your tarot cards. You may be feeling tired or burned out and not necessarily in the mood to celebrate. The previous year was a doozy for you so perhaps catching up on sleep is more of your priority. Ever get the feeling of wanting to sleep because life is overwhelmed and you're like, "I give up (for now)?" and call it a day? You need to give yourself a chance to recuperate around your birthday, before during and after. Have a break so you can fully recover and receive all that the coming year has to offer you.
That means letting loved ones in your life, be they bio family or chosen family, understand that you'd rather have a small get together or a chance to rest every now and then if you're invited out somewhere. If you choose to go out, there's nothing wrong with taking it slow and easy, or doing something casual like grabbing some ice cream and sitting by the riverside to ponder the next year. Communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up in an attempt to keep up with everybody else. Don't let anyone convince you of how you should celebrate, it's your day your rules!
Others of you who have a little more energy, a little more of that "last year sucks, I need to go out and do something fun to sweat it off!", I feel like the ball is emphasized here with Knight of Pentacles beneath Ball Pits. Some of you looking for more action and noise may choose to go to a ball game, or spend time at the arcade playing pinball with friends. It could even be mini golf. Whether you are the low energy (calm) or high energy (excited) seeking type, getting the chance to have some fun is important, as long as it feels right for you.
This is the pile most likely to get some kind of surprise, be that a party (high energy) or a surprise gift (low energy). There will be a sense of being pampered. Some of you may get a larger number of gifts than you may have expected. You may receive a very beautiful gift, something you may treasure for a long time. Whatever it may be, allow yourself to thoroughly enjoy it and express that joy. Let yourself embrace gratitude, being mindful of what you have now regardless of how your last year has been and how your next year will be. For your next birthday, try to focus on the present (in both meanings).
Tumblr media
Pile 3 - The Door 🗝
Tumblr media
South Node - Past, Let Your Light Shine, Bubble Gum, Winter; Ace of Cups, 9 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, XIX Sun, Page of Wands
Hey pile 3! For your next birthday, I'm definitely seeing you go outside to celebrate. There may be an actual party held outdoors, or you might choose to go out somewhere. I'm seeing parks, possibly national parks or natural trails. I'm getting the feeling of warm sunshine, the weather will likely cooperate perfectly on your day. You could be cruising through town, going from store to store (the 3 of pentacles reminds me of a mall here). Your birthday feels expansive and adventurous, ready for something new.
A small number of you may wish to engage a little bit in the spotlight, or you may be placed into a position of receiving more attention on this day. If you wish to, your birthday would be a great day to showcase your talents or passions, since I'm picking up a bit of Leo energy in this pile. With lips in Bubble Gum, you could be giving a speech? I'm picturing an actual toast, if you feel the strong urge to speak out then do so, let yourself be heard. I'm also seeing people sing for you at restaurants, so if that isn't your style, it's best to find a place to eat that doesn't do that sort of thing.
This birthday could be like your own version of a New Year's Eve celebration. Some of you may actually be born in the winter or around New Year's, so holidays and birthdays could tie in together. You're wanting your birthday to stand out amidst the traditional festivities (I've known many people born around Christmas who hate having their birthday gifts thrown under the tree, so you're not alone in that frustration!). You may get the idea of doing something out of the ordinary. Let yourself take the spotlight--it's your special occasion!
There's a message in your pile of letting old things go as you step into a new age. Old things from the year prior may still be sticking onto you, old issues from unresolved matters may pop up. They could be on the more practical side, like needing to sign something or finish a task on time. Be ready to step into the future unafraid--now is the time to shed the baggage. Your birthday can be the fresh start to a bright new trip around the sun, but you gotta give yourself that chance. If something needs to be resolved, and you got the time, tie up your loose ends beforehand so it's not weighing on you as you celebrate.
Your birthday is a threshold to an exciting new time for you. It may be like a breath of fresh air. I keep hearing "refreshed" and "invigorated", so this may be how you feel at the end of your birthday. You may do something that makes you think, "huh, why don't I do this more often?" That could be the key for you to step into something brand new. Will spending time with your friends refresh you, or going to a concert and discovering a new band that you will fall in love with as it warms up the show? Or may you desire to spend more time out in nature? Lean into what lights you up, listen to what engages you, and move from there.
Tumblr media
Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾
Tumblr media
Imum Coeli - Roots, Snow Day, Forest, Transformation; 3 of Cups, 6 of Cups, Ace of Swords, XII Hanged Man, 8 of Swords
What's up, pile 4? Your birthday is looking to be the absolute warmest and coziest out of all the piles. Many of you may identify strongly with introversion. I'm sensing a lot of you have your birthday around autumn or the cooler times of the year when most people are ready to bundle up in blankets or sit by the wood stove while awaiting the first signs of frost. Many of you may get a lucky chance to stay at home instead of needing to work or go to school, so you'll have the day off to plan out what you want to do. Others of you may desire to take time off if you have the chance to, I would go for it especially if you've been feeling the need to rest. You may live near trees or desire to be out in nature as a way to kick back.
I'm seeing someone invite a few friends over to watch old reruns of favorite shows while baking. It could be a gathering of closest friends, I'm not getting the sense that it'll be a big to-do bash. This day will be short, sweet, and simple. It's a good day for doing hobbies or spending time indulging in the gifts you were given. Some of you may rather spend time with family or those you live with instead of inviting people over. You and your family may share a special way of celebrating birthdays, I don't know of any birthday specific cultural traditions from the top of my head but you may have special rituals unique to you and your family. Either way, I get that you'll have a modest celebration that's nevertheless full of camaraderie and relaxing activities.
The description for the Alchemist card says "Allow Transformation", and you have another Transformation card. You may be doing a lot of transmuting on the inside, working through old stubborn patterns and limiting beliefs around this time. I'm seeing the ball of flame near the snow as if you're melting old self-sabotaging blockages away to make room for more growth in your coming year. This flame, this transmuting energy, is making way for the new to arrive.
The Hanged Man being tangled up in vines beneath a forest makes me think that you've been hung up on something that needs to be let go. You must prune in order to effectively grow. Too much in a small space can lead to cramming and confusion. You must deal with the thoughts tangling themselves up in your mind before cultivating the thoughts you want in their place. Changes may happen slowly on the outside, but when certain patterns are fully cleared out things can really take off.
So, for example, let's say you've wanted to sign up for a ceramics workshop for your birthday, or spend the day cleaning house (if you happen to find cleaning therapeutic). To do so, you'll need to not only free up your schedule, but free your mind of thoughts trying to convince you that you can't learn or can't clean. Perhaps it's difficult to not see the forest as just a bundle of trees. But a forest is more than trees, it's an entire system that supports itself in a perpetual cycle. Don't fill up your days with too many tasks, especially on your birthday. Pace the day with both the things you want to do and the things you have to do. The time around birthday will show you how to integrate the best of both worlds. We can have cake and eat it too, it's just a matter of pacing and doing things one at a time.
Tumblr media
This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.
2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™
133 notes · View notes
otomiyaa · 1 day
Text
Small Spoon
Dr. Ratio x Aventurine
Tumblr media
A/N: Stupid spontaneous plotless fics where Aventurine is getting himself into situations. My new genre. (ref)
Summary: No plot, just cuddles and tickles... (Also on AO3)
Word Count: 1.2K
Tumblr media
It was truly a waste. Aventurine stared at the large surface of Dr. Ratio's back. He was huge. He had long arms. Yet all the times they slept together, he would be like this. Aventurine sighed. It felt as if he was sleeping next to a rock.
"Ratio~" Aventurine whined. He grabbed Ratio's shoulder and shook him.
"Hrrrmh," was the grumbly sound he got in return.
"Turn around for once, won't you?" Aventurine asked, pouting.
"Don't want to. Go to sleep." Ugh, so cold.
"You're always like this. Just cuddle me for once. I'll be the small spoon. I've always wanted to be the small spoon," Aventurine said, still shaking Ratio's shoulder. If he was annoying enough, he surely would give in at some point.
Even though they were not really officially a couple, he thought Dr. Ratio owed him some cuddles. He had no trouble kissing him, or making love to him. He had that amount of passion inside him, so a cuddle was the least Aventurine could ask for, right?
"Ratiooooo~" Aventurine put both his hands on Ratio's shoulder and he shook him, whining like a small child.
"Just be the big spoon for once?" he sang.
"Please? Pretty, pretty please? You're no fun at all. Why always sleep with your back towards me? Let's spoon, just once. Only this time then?"
And yes, he really was getting on Ratio's nerves, and so... it was working!
"I really can't stand you," Ratio growled as he turned around, and he forcefully turned Aventurine over as well, getting him in the position of a small spoon, and he wrapped his arms around him.
"Now happy?" Aventurine heard Ratio ask, and he giggled. He sounded so annoyed, but hey, they were cuddling right now.
It was exactly as he expected. Those long arms were very fitting to hold him. It felt good, sexy, safe... He nodded, grinning.
"I'm happy. Good night."
It really did feel comfortable to cuddle. Ratio's strong arms were wrapped around him quite tightly, but not too tight. It felt warm and comfortable. See? It wasn't so hard. Even someone like Dr. Ratio could be a proper cuddler. Satisfied with himself, Aventurine closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
However, the moment he drifted off... He twitched when he felt a sudden tickle on his stomach. He opened one eye and waited. What was that? Maybe Ratio did that by accident. But soon when he closed his eyes again, he felt another tickle, and he gasped.
"Ratio?" he asked quietly. No answer. Maybe he was asleep and his fingers were just, well yeah, moving around in his sleep?
"Rahahatio?" Aventurine started to second-guess that possibility when those fingers began to dance around more quickly, all over his belly and sides. He couldn't hold back the giggles now and began to dance in Ratio's grip.
"Rahahatio y-you're tihihickling mehehe," he giggled. He squirmed and struggled, but he was caught... like a small spoon in a trap, and Ratio wasn't saying a thing.
When the ticklish touches became fiercer, Aventurine let out more of his voice. It was impossible that Ratio was asleep through all this, and even more impossible that these tickles were a mere accident. That little bitch.
"RAha-Ratio! Thihis isn't fuhuhunny!" Aventurine really tried to move but couldn't. He shook his head but couldn't even turn around to see the expression on Ratio's face. What the hell was he thinking!
"Stohohop this instahahant! I cahahan't sleep- l-like thihihis!"
Aventurine's arms could do little to protect himself. He really tried, but in this position it was just too hard to fight back, and when Ratio's fingers lowered and dug into his lower abdomen, Aventurine lost some of his dignity with the uncharming squeaks he set loose.
"Gwwwahahahah! Nohohoho- come ohohon! That tihihickles! Ratiahahaah!" He kicked and struggled, but it seemed that his request to be the small spoon was still being fulfilled, and he really started to get the impression that this was Ratio's revenge for bothering him with such a troublesome request.
Really, was that it? Ugh, so typical of him to make Aventurine regret this!
"AHAh-Ahahalright! Alriiight! You cahahan lehehet me go nohohow! I won't behehe the smahahall spoo-ahahaha!" Aventurine cackled, but still no word came from his attacker. Just those annoying fingers touching Aventurine in his most sensitive places and nothing he could do about it, and it was as if he was never going to stop.
"I sahahaid lehehet me gohoho ahaahahah!" he cried, and he jumped in Ratio's arms when those attacking fingers had started to pinch and squeeze his hips and lower sides. It was a murderous tickle hug, and no matter how much he struggled and fought, Dr. Ratio really had an iron grip on him.
"Naahaha no mohohore! Not thehehere! Not-whaahah!" Those fingers were now carefully scratching at his ribs. Over them, in between them. So ticklish it made him shake and twitch as if he was being electrocuted. And still, there was no way for him to escape.
Aventurine was just busy wondering how much more he could take, and whether Ratio would be reasonable if he try to make up a convincing excuse, such as almost wetting his pants, when all of a sudden the tickling stopped.
"Eh.... Ratio? Doctor?" Aventurine asked. He breathed heavily and tried to squirm around, but Ratio's arms were still wrapped around him, refusing to let him move. Aventurine grabbed Ratio's arms again and tried to pull them off him in another attempt to free himself from the iron cuddle.
"You may eh- you may let go now," Aventurine said tiredly, but Ratio still wouldn't budge. Aventurine was so busy trying to pull those arms off him, that it took him really by surprise when Ratio's hands turned back into claws and tickled him once again, making him screech.
"RATIOOOOO AHahaha!" Aventurine laughed angrily. Thist was just insane! And at last, finally, Ratio said something, but it wasn't a pleasing thing to hear. He leaned in and said in his ear:
"Have fun being the small spoon, gambler. I doubt you'll ever ask for this again."
Aventurine blinked. Such a petty doctor! "If you didn't want to do it, you could've just said nooooAHAHAhah!"
There was no way to reason with him, no way to convince him that what he was doing was just childish and silly and meaningless. So all Aventurine could do was stay in Ratio's arms and endure any tickling he had in store for him, any moment of their sleepless night.
And still.... When considering the options: ice queen Ratio, sleeping with his long back towards him and not even acknowledging him even when they shared a bed, or... tickle monster Ratio, keeping Aventurine prisoner in his embrace and tickling the hell out of him while he couldn't move?
Strange enough, it was still the tickle monster option Aventurine would prefer over the ice queen. Now, if he could discover a nice in-between option, cuddler Ratio without the tickle monster part. Then he would find gold. But not for now. For now, this was his lovely prize... So be it!
118 notes · View notes
keishawantskisses · 22 hours
Text
I am a master shifter, but take it to another level — a silly vault
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
I literally do not care anymore. I am literally in my desired reality right now, and no stupid doubting thoughts can stop me.
I am literally a master shifter, and I always keep waking up in my desired reality like all the time. I literally have to be careful when I blink because I'll suddenly become aware of my desired realities at any random moment it's actually insane. I always experience strange and sudden reality glitches, like anytime I think of my dr, I immediately become aware of it. I am always experiencing mini shifts throughout the day as if I am actively detaching from my current reality because I am no longer connected to it anymore. It has always been impossibly easy and instant for me to shift to whatever reality i like. My life has become so much more interesting and amazing because of how successful my shifting journey is, I mean, literally, not a single day goes by where I haven't shifted to any of my desired realities. Sometimes, I don't know what to expect when I go to sleep because I always wake up in one of my desired realities and experience something new. I have literally so many stories to tell because of how frequent, active, and adventurous my shifting journey is. I am so fucking high on life right now, and I'm loving every second of it.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
+ Just found THE cutest emoji combos ever
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
*ੈ♡⸝⸝🎂༘⋆
*ੈ𑁍༘⋆
Also would anyone like it if I turned this vault into an equation affirmation? As an example, this one I did ages ago and you guys seemed to really like that one
95 notes · View notes
mariclerc · 2 days
Text
A project of love | ls2
Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.
Warning: none.
a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.
He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”
You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.
“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”
Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”
“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”
You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”
“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.
You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”
”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”
You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.
You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”
Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.
Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.
“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”
You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.
You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”
“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”
He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.
You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.
You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”
You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.
***
The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.
He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.
“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”
You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”
His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”
You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.
***
The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.
One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”
You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”
He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”
The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.
As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”
You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.
Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.
“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.
“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”
As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.
During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”
“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”
His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.
The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.
“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”
You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.
Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.
“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”
A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”
He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”
Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.
The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.
You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.
As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.
65 notes · View notes
eddies-house · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |
Smoke Signals
Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas
W/C: 7.5K
Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader
Have yourself a merry little Christmas…
(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers
Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀
A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭
Masterlist
Prev |
Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  
A senseless daydream.  
It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  
So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  
He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  
Whatever you wanted. 
He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.
Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.
This was it.  
This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.
Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.
And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.
He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  
Several.
He thought to himself.  
You could have gone to school, shown up.  
Could have stayed out of detention.
Gotten arrested less.
Not get arrested at all.
Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.
In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.
Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.
What’s the matter darlin’?
And he just sobbed.  And remembered.
Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.
Then he remembered.
Him.
Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.
Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  
“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  
The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.
So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.
Freak.
Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.
Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.
All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.
The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  
Be careful what you wish for.  
That goddamn voice taunts him.
The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  
Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.
Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–
“Eddie?”
It all stopped.  
“Eddie?!”  
There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.
Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–
“Please don’t make me go back!”
You couldn’t form words.
“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”
Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  
“I’m sorry.” 
“Shh.”  You soothe. 
Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  
The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.
He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  
He felt on a deeper level than most.
At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.
“Bambi–”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.
“Dad died.”
Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      
“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.
“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”
“You’re allowed to.”
“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”
“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”
You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  
“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.
“Hm?”
“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”
“Needed someone?”
Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  
“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“So you knew?”
“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.
Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.
“I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.
“But right now you’re not.”
Sabotage.  In his eyes.
“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”
Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.
“Stop it.”  You demand.
“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”
“Stop.”
Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.
Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.
“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”
You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.
“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”
“Go.”
You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.
“Fine.”
The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.
Do not resuscitate.
As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  
It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—
In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.
Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.
“Bambi, what did I tell you–”
“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“
Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  
There he is.
Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  
Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—
“I love you.”  
It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.
“I-are—are you s—“
“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.
You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.
“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”
All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  
“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“
“I don’t—“
“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“
“You are not.” 
“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  
“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.
“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  
Did he believe it was his last chance?
And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.
A pathetic whine dare you say.
“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.
“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”
You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  
“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.
Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  
Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.
 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  
“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.
“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.
“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  
“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.
Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  
“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.
“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  
There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.
“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  
He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.
“I said, let me take care of you.”
Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  
Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.
“Eddie.”  You whimper.
“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”
You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  
“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“
You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  
“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“
A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  
“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”
“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.
“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  
Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.
Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  
“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  
“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  
“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 
“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”
Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.
As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  
“F-feel what you do to me?”
It aches.
His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  
You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  
You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  
Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.
His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.
He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.
“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”
He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.
Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 
He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  
Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  
Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.
 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.
Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.
His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  
Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?
Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  
The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  
It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  
While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  
You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  
You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.
Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.
“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  
Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  
“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  
“No but I can do you one better—“
“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“
“Next to the table.”  
Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.
“I—no I can’t—“
“Open it.”  
Eddie just stared. 
“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.
Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  
“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.
As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.
“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“
“I love you.”  You interrupt.
Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 
“You’re not just saying that—“
“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”
“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“
You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.
“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”
“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”
You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  
And he was blushing. 
“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”
“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”
More blushing.
Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 
“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.
“Do you like it?”
Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  
“I love it, I love you.”
Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.
He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.
Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.
Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.
“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”
There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.
Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.
~end~
Masterlist
Prev |
tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16
60 notes · View notes
zhoufeis · 14 hours
Text
What just bothers me simply about the discussion of TTPD being all so great is neither the fact that some reviewers literally ignore some of the very gruesome lyrics this album has to offer nor the fact that the whole album has the same tune and I could not tell apart these tracks even if I wanted to, no. After all, we can always argue that tastes are different... arguably. It's something utterly different that's bothering me.
It's three things entirely different.
1) The fact we pretend 31 break-up tracks, written entirely out of the perspective of victimhood, of some love stories are worth calling "The Tortured Poets Department". Mind you, Swift, I like love songs, I like break-up songs, I like them poetically, I like when they touch me. But writing 31 break-up songs (not entirely, right, more like 25 or so) for one album makes me wonder if there is anything deeper... more touching to write about. You stay on the surface describing relationships (romantic as well as parasocial) in which you come out as a victim. But the self-reflection is missing entirely. And if I learned one thing in language classes it's that it's poetically dull if we only ever stay on the surface. We gotta dig deeper. And I'm not referring to some poetic lines to make a song sound more beautiful. I'm talking about true depth, true self-reflection, something that makes you defenseless. Cause all this woman does is writing songs out of the perspective of defense - and victimhood. Never does she actually draw herself as defenseless or vulnerable, always knowing how to use the right words to make her fans defend her.
2) Which leads me to that other thing that really bothers me. Her PR team was more involved in this album than the persona of Taylor Swift could ever be. Or maybe Taylor Swift is only PR at this point. Maybe there is no actual person behind all of this. Cause if there's one thing that's utterly apparent, it is that this album hinges SOLELY on any media drama she was involved in. Everyone out there trying to decipher which song is about whom - is this storytelling? Is this poetry? If I only care about songs and judge them by who they are about? The beauty of music is that it binds people together, makes people feel heard or seen through the text and voice of another person. What she's doing isn't that. She is not binding people together by selling her songs as something that could happen to anyone, no, all of it is always only about one person's story - her own. She also doesn't create fictional stories to write about, things to further the limits of our imagination and tell a story that doesn't even exist, and never will. She doesn't use imagination, she doesn't try to connect to other people, she's trying only to connect people to HER. Can this album even be judged neutrally if everyone just knows about her relationships and is guessing who the songs are about? Is there one person out there like "I have never seen any of the TS relationship drama and the like, and I only like to review this album lyrically and sonically by the lyrics and tune within"? Because she is SO present in everyday media press, it is impossible to miss her relationship drama. So are we actually still reviewing Swift's album as a standalone media for its sound and lyrics? Or are we actually just reviewing TS's terrible love life which she apparently has no responsibility for? And mind you all - she knows exactly what she's doing. Don't even think for a second she doesn't know that you all are following her every footstep. Don't think she doesn't use it to her advantage. (Aside from that, she has been considered a storyteller for so long, but she seems to have a lack of stories she can come up with if the only ones she writes about are her own...)
3) Which leads to the entire capitalist thinking behind the release of this album. Not only did she publish 19 different versions of this album to be acquired, no, she also literally had millions of fans pre-ordering her (normal-length) album, only to drop an extended version right after its release. Which means that all these fans had to buy yet another album. And don't think she meant this as a surprise for her fans - she did that cause that's how you make money. Cause that's how capitalism works. And she's part of the problem.
42 notes · View notes
maccreadysbaby · 2 days
Text
A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: none
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
the one chapter in this whole fic where bentley makes a rational decision
Tumblr media
part thirty-nine
❝ UNLOVABLE ❞
TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 8 — 11:07 AM
BENTLEY WOKE UP SO DISORIENTED AND FUZZY AND CONFUSED THAT HE JUST STARTED CRYING.
There were bright white lights in his face, and he wasn’t in his bed anymore, he was somewhere else. There were people moving around him, but he didn’t pay attention long enough to decide who, only long enough to decide he was terrified and wanted Bruce. What time was it? No idea. What day was it? No idea. Was he at the hospital? Was something really wrong with him?
“Whoa, hey… hey there, chum. You’re okay,” 
Bentley relished in the familiar voice, peeling his heavy, kind of sticky, newly-wet eyes open to glance around the room. It took a solid minute for his brain to catch up to his vision, but when it did, he realized he was in the cave, and Bruce was sitting right next to the bed he was laying in.
He tried to bring his hands up to hide his crying eyes, but paused mid-movement when he realized he was attached to a drip.The movement also seemed to trigger a wave of soreness that washed through his whole body.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just relax. You’re here, with me, in the cave. Everything’s okay,” Bruce spoke in his typical level, gentle tone, one of his hands landing on Bentley’s forehead like it always seemed to. Though, for some reason, he looked… really tired. Worn down. 
Bentley breathed in and out shakily, gathering his bearings, trying to stop crying for no reason for the five millionth time in his short life. (Seriously, he had to be setting a record at this point.) Instead, he relaxed back down onto the bed and let Bruce card his fingers through his hair.
“Where’s… Nico?” Was the first thing he managed to whisper.
Bruce got a strange look on his face, before he replied: “Bentley… you’ve been down here for five days. Nico and Asten went home. It’s Tuesday.”
Bentley blinked a few times. It was Tuesday? He had been… he had been completely out of it for five whole days?
He looked around the empty room warily. “What? What happened?” 
Bruce sighed softly, brushing his opposite hand through his own hair. “Someones been fiddling with your DNA, and it made you pretty sick.”
Oh. Right. Superpowers. Bentley looked down at his own feet under the cottony blanket, exhaling subtly. 
“Bentley,”
He looked back up at Bruce, who had a little smile on his face. 
“I will never, ever, ever get rid of you,” He reassured, sighing lightly. “I promise.”
Bentley looked down at his hands, exhaling shakily before he muttered: “My… my father told me… he never loved me. And, uh, that he never would.”
Bruce stayed silent for a moment.
Bentley breathed in and out. It was now or never, wasn’t it? The hard questions had to be asked so things could be fixed, right? “Will you tell me the truth?”
“Of course, bud. Anything,”
Bentley twiddled his fingers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Bruce when he whispered: “Why is it so hard for people to love me?”
Bruce’s blue eyes grew grim, and he scooted his chair closer to the bed with a squeak. “Bentley Whittaker, you are not hard to love. In fact, you’re almost impossible not to love.”
Bentley looked away, breathing in to force away the urge to cry. “Then why doesn’t he love me?”
Bruce sighed lightly. “That’s his own choice, his own problem. It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible, brave, amazing kid, Bentley, and I loved you the very first day Dick brought you to me.”
A moment of silence passed.
“Hey,” Bruce continued, his hand moving through Bentley’s hair again, and the child finally looked over at him with slightly glassy eyes. “You could set the whole world on fire and I’d still tell everybody you’re mine.”
Bentley looked down at his feet, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to burn. Did that mean that maybe Bruce wouldn’t hate him for all the things he did? And he wouldn’t get rid of him? And he could stay and keep living with them even though he was an emotional, irrational trainwreck of a child?
Bentley sniffled. “I’m…” Cold? Lonely? Tired of lying? “Can you hold me?”
In one smooth movement, minding the IV tubes, Bentley was with Bruce in the chair.
A few moments of silence passed.
“I wish you were my father,”
A few beats came and went, and Bruce kissed Bentley’s hair.
“I am,”
Oh, God — there it was. The one statement that utterly broke Bentley. That changed something inside of him just like his real father’s statement had. Something cracked. Something moved. 
And so Bentley did what Bentley had been so determined not to do for literal weeks.
“You promise you won’t hate me?” He muttered into Bruce’s shirt, making himself small there, tucking his knees up. 
“I could never hate you, Bentley,”
Bentley breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe it really was the right time. Maybe he really should do it — just get it over with. Nico would’ve done it. It was good. It would make everything better, right? Right?
“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Is what he started out with, but then backtracked, because that was not a great place to start. “I mean, no, I was. I was. But, the… uh… the night you guys thought I went missing I actually… uh… I ran away.”
Bruce said nothing, but didn’t make a disapproving sound or expression, either. So Bentley continued.
“I guess… uh… I guess it really started back when… right before school. Or right after, I can’t remember. Something was wrong with Damian. And I tried to talk to him but he got mad…” Bentley cleared his throat. “He told me I wasn’t worthy enough to be a Wayne. That I didn’t belong here and you only had me because you felt bad for me.”
At that, Bruce let out a little sigh.
“I think he was kind of sad, I dunno… I know he didn’t really want to hurt me. I think. But he did anyways,” Bentley shook his head. “And I started looking at everybody, at Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and… Y’know. They’re all superheroes. Really cool superheroes. And a bunch of them were Robin, and I obviously can’t be Robin, but… I… I had to do something, you know? I wanted to be good enough. So… uh… Asten and Nico and I decided that… uh… we were going to go after the Secret Keeper. Because I could prove that I belonged here if I caught a villain like you guys do.”
“So you left, in pursuit of her?” Bruce inquired gently.
Bentley nodded. “Yeah. Asten found some connections between the missing people and the Areopagus and Dr. Keene, my teacher, and found this cabin in the woods that he owned that a bunch of the victims had stayed in, so we went to check it out. Which… sounds pretty random and dumb, now, I guess…” 
Silence passed.
“Uh… he found all that out by finding all the locations of where the people went missing and… uh… well. We kinda… stole Dr. Keene’s phone to get to the cabin schedules and stuff…” Bentley fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “I know it was bad… but we wanted to help. So, uh, we met up at Nico’s house and started going to the cabin.”
Bentley exhaled heavily. Telling the truth felt strangely… good.
“We walked for a long time, and stopped by Asten’s house in Crime Alley for him to get something, and that was when Nico told me he was adopted and when I realized he had superpowers. Real ones — he has superspeed. And, well, that didn’t go over so well. He was… is really struggling with it. But, uh, anyways, Asten came back and then the Secret Keeper knocked me out and showed me all kinds of futures. Ones where I die, where I work with my father, where I was Robin… and she told me my choice to go to the cabin would lock me in and out of some. So I chose to keep going.”
Bruce still didn’t respond, keeping the door open for Bentley to continue.
“We broke into the cabin. And, uh, it looked pretty normal… at first. And then we found a trapdoor that led to the basement. Asten told me it was called a morgue,” Bentley shivered at the thought. “We opened up one of the fridges and… it was scary. I had an anxiety attack. Nico threw up in the floor. But Asten was fine, I think, and there was this computer down there that had tons of videos on it. Of our teacher, Dr. Keene, working in these labs, turning normal people into metahumans. The first one he did was his own daughter, Charlie Reins… who became The Secret Keeper. And he mind controls them all.”
Bruce exhaled.
“A bunch of the missing kids were in those videos, like Titus Lancaster and Davis Henderson. And we learned that… that… Dr. Keene was… is working for… my father. Trying to destroy you. That’s why the Secret Keeper has been attacking us. Because of me…” Bentley inhaled sharply. “Anyways, we were down there and we heard someone coming, so… we… hid in some of the fridges. Which wasn’t fun. I don’t remember much from then because I was freaking out. We ran out of the cabin and everyone was scared and Asten got his foot stuck in a bear trap and we were trying to help him and then there was a grenade and we all got knocked out.”
Bentley exhaled, sort of shaky, cringing at himself. Word vomiting wasn’t usually something people liked, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.
“And I woke up in a warehouse, but I wasn’t actually there because it was just the Secret Keeper. I saw Jason die, and it… was really scary. I… I saw you. And I begged you to bring me home but it wasn’t really you…” Bentley fought back another round of stinging in his eyes and forced himself to get it together. “Then I woke up. Davis Henderson, the waiter that got knocked out at that bar because of me, he was there and he got me out of the machine before they could do mind control, he said.”
Bruce nodded slightly. “I remember hearing about Davis.”
“Yeah. He has to wear these super huge metal gloves now, because he kills anything he touches. His mind control was broken. So he got me out, and then we went to get Nico and Asten. And I got shot. Which was scary. And… he told us about Titus Lancaster, who can teleport, and he was going to have surgery to get new mind control so he didn’t have it then. And Davis told us to find him and that he could teleport us out,” He explained. “So we ran for a while. Lots of people were killed. Davis killed a lot of bad guys that were shooting at us, and… Nico did, too, but he didn’t mean to. He has air powers now that can make you choke.”
Bruce hummed.
“But when we were running out the Secret Keeper showed up. So Davis told us to run and he fought her. I’m not sure what happened but I hope he’s okay. He saved me…” Bentley cleared his throat. “But we found Titus, who was really scared, and he teleported us to the manor. And Asten told us not to tell anyone so I… didn’t. And you know everything that’s happened since I got home. Oh — except… I went to see my father to try and convince him to stop, but he said no. And that if I told anybody anything I knew he’d use a plan b that would destroy all of Gotham. But I don’t know what it is. Oh, and Asten has fire powers. And… I guess that’s everything you didn’t know.”
Bentley sighed and looked up at Bruce, who looked near-emotionless, processing all of the information he’d just had dumped in his lap.
“I… I know those things were bad, and that I should’ve told you, and that I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but please, please, please don’t get rid of me. I’ll be better — I won’t do anything bad again. Please don’t-“
“Bentley,”
The Bentley in question was starting to cry again. “Please don’t get rid of me, Bruce. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. You can get me in trouble and yell at me and lock me up or hit me like my dad used to, but please just don’t get rid of me.” 
“Bentley. Look at me please,”
Begrudgingly, Bentley looked up, his brown, watery eyes meeting Bruce’s icy blue ones. 
“Please don’t get rid of me. I love you,”
Bruce breathed in and out. “Here’s what I have to say, okay? You’re right. Some of those things you did were risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, and you were impressively, almost stupidly brave to do them. All because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”
Bentley looked down, wiping at his furiously leaking eyes with his non-dripped hand. 
“Do you want to know what one of the most defining traits of a Wayne is?” Bruce questioned, glancing down at Bentley with a smile that threw the child for a loop. “Being impressively and stupidly brave, and doing things that are risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, all because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”
Bentley said nothing.
“Every single person in this family, Bentley, has done something like this. Even me. Some of us more than once. And while I can’t say I’m thrilled about what you did or what you went through… You survived, you told me the truth, and you were trying to do the right thing. And, I’d have to say, all things considered, I’m pretty proud of that,” Bruce stated with a smile. “I am proud of you, Bentley. And I love you. So. Much. You’re pretty much stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
Bentley had never felt more relieved in his entire short life. Bruce loved him, and he wasn’t going to get rid of him, and he wasn’t mad at him… what kind of fever dream was this? How was it going just like Bentley hoped it would?
“Hey, bud, I want to ask you something. And I want you to be totally, completely honest, okay? Your answer needs to be yours and only yours,”
Bentley nodded slightly, still wiping at his eyes. 
Bruce breathed in deep, running a hand over the child’s head with this fond gleam in his eyes that before now, Bentley could have only dreamed of. 
“You’ve been living here for almost a year. Fostering for over half of it,” Bruce exhaled. “I think this is as good of a time as any to ask… how do you feel about being adopted, like Dick, Jason, and Tim?”
Bentley freaking lost his mind. 
(In the arms of his dad?)
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚
tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)
@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser
24 notes · View notes
Text
Why I Love Crosshair- A Story About Persevering
I talk about Crosshair so much on my blog. With TBB ending in a few days, I wanted to share with y'all why he resonates with me so deeply. This show and these characters have touched the hearts of so many in this fandom. I'm curious, which Batcher has resonated with you? Anyways, here we go!
Crosshair's hot. That's it. I'm a simple woman. Moving on.
He's really freaking cool- I'm not gonna like, seeing Crosshair make those trick shots has me on the edge of my seat. It's just so much fun to watch someone do an incredible skill whether it's dance, playing music, or in Crosshair's case, take out several battle droids with one shot. I love it.
His character arc- Crosshair is one of the most interesting and complex characters I've met in recent years. I'm not going to lie, it's refreshing to see a really well-written morally grey character. Crosshair's one and only loyalty is to his family (plus a few others). He will do anything for them. However, Crosshair isn't drawn to some bigger cause like Echo or Omega are. From my POV, it's something interesting to think about. What makes a good person? How far is one willing to go for someone they love? At what point does that loyalty and love turn selfish or self-destructive? These are all questions that Crosshair's character brings up.
I also appreciate the love and passion put into his character. Jennifer and the team took their time to give Cross a proper redemption. It wasn't as simple as "Crosshair just flips on a dime" or "he dies proving he still loved them." No. The change had to come from Crosshair. Crosshair had to be the one to make the steps towards coming home. It had to be his choice and his choice alone, not something that was forced onto him. I really appreciate that tbh. People are so complex and we all make mistakes. Crosshair made some pretty bad choices (not that he was 100% in control). Still, he had to figure things out for himself and when he was ready, he decided to come home.
His story- Crosshair's story is one of struggle and persevering in my eyes. "The Outpost" is one of the best depictions of what it's like to struggle with mental health. It's why I love it so much. I see a lot of myself in Crosshair. So often, it's much easier to just lie down and quit. But Crosshair doesn't quit. No. He fights. He fights so hard and in the end, he makes it. To see Crosshair come home after so long meant the world to me. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. You can and will make it. And he didn't do it alone. Omega continued to be a light in his life. Crosshair reminds me to never give up. Even when it all seems impossible, we need to keep going and there is hope for the future. When he meditates with Omega, I almost cried. That episode reminded me of my mom because she's constantly encouraging me and supporting me. She always tells me that I have to be the one to help myself. It's difficult and she will be there, but I can't just expect things to fix themselves. Similarly, Omega told Crosshair that he needed to help himself. I don't think I've ever related to a SW character as much as I have with Crosshair.
Crosshair has taught me so much about myself. Through him, I've learned that there's a lot going on in my head that I need to work on. I realized why S1 Hunter pissed me off so much. Because like Cross, there are times at home where I feel like no one listens. He taught me to keep going, to keep fighting, especially in times of great uncertainty. Crosshair and Omega's relationship shows just how special the impact of one person can have. I see their relationship reflected in my life in many ways. There's so much more I can say about Cross, but we would be here forever lol.
I am so grateful for Crosshair. I am so grateful for his story. He might be just a character, but he's really helped me tackle some rough times in my life. I love him with all my heart and will forever be thankful to TBB team for bringing his story to life.
Thank you DBB, Jen, Brad, Michelle, and everyone on TBB team. Thank you for everything ❤️
20 notes · View notes
raaorqtpbpdy · 2 days
Text
The Only Way Out is Through (2)
Vlad overshadows Jack as part of a diabolical plan to get rid of him and win Maddie's heart. Unfortunately, the plan goes awry when Vlad finds he can neither take control over Jack, nor leave.
For the prompts: Vlad's murderous plan for vengeance goes awry when he finds himself unable to stop possessing Jack's body. Jack is very much still alive and complaining about the "insufferable spook inhabiting his form". He's forced to live Jack's life until he can come up with a solution. IF he can... [from Balshumet], Vlad wishes his friendships could go back to the way they were in college, little does he know that Jack and Maddie have similar sentiments. [from @half-deadmagicperson], and Jack wants to save Vlad, but he'll have to face the harm he caused twenty years ago in order to accomplish this. [from @kuzann]
Read also on AO3
Chapter 2: Forgive, but Never Forget (Chapter 1)
[Warning for past trauma, guilt and blame, and mentions of death]
Jack stared.
Before him, he saw the rotten specter who'd tried to possess him and gotten stuck... and he also saw his best friend, Vlad Masters. And he had no idea what to make of it.
"I... I don't understand," he said.
"Of course you wouldn't understand, you oaf," the Wisconsin Ghost sneered at him. "I can't stand to be near you for even another second."
Then, with a flourish of his cape, the ghost flew through the portal and was gone, leaving Jack alone with his friend and no less confused.
"Vlad, are you alright?" he asked. He reached out to his friend, only to have his hand slapped away.
"Don't touch me," Vlad said, though there was little bite to it.
He looked... sad. Sadder than Jack had ever seen him, and he was overcome with the desire to help, though he still hadn't the foggiest idea what he needed to help with.
"Vlad... what's going on?" he asked, trying and failing to put all the pieces together. It just didn't add up.
Had the Wisconsin Ghost possessed Vlad before coming to do the same to Jack? But... how would it have even done something like that? It was impossible. Still, Vlad would know better than Jack, he always did, so it probably would be best to ask.
"Did the Wisconsin Ghost overshadow you, too, Vlad?"
"I wasn't overshadowed by the Wisconsin Ghost," Vlad muttered darkly. "I am the Wisconsin Ghost. Or I was, anyway. Your device seems to have separated me from my ghost half, and now it has apparently abandoned me in its disgust. I hardly blame it for wanting to get away from you."
"I don't understand—"
"I told you, didn't I?" Vlad replied. "You killed me. I came to get revenge. It's as simple as that."
Jack shook his head, still as confused as when he'd first dispossessed himself of that ghost and seen Vlad standing there, if not more so. It certainly didn't seem like anything about this situation was at all simple. Actually, it seemed quite confusing. Most confusing of all, however, was that, even though Vlad's words should have sounded angry... he just sounded sad.
"Is... is something wrong, Vladdie?" Jack asked. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? The man I once called friend betrayed me by stealing away the woman I love, sending me to an early grave in his incompetence, turning me into a half formed freak, neither truly human nor truly ghost, trapped me in his body for a week, and then split my two sides apart from each other, leaving me a broken man in every sense of the word."
Jack wasn't always the best at picking out sarcasm, but he didn't think Vlad was being genuine when he claimed he was fine. He actually sounded rather displeased and depressed about the whole thing. But Jack knew the cure for that.
"Come on, old chum," he said, grabbing Vlad by the arm despite his protests. "I'm taking you upstairs for some hot-chocolate and a warm blanket and we're going to talk this out."
Too bad Jack didn't know what to do about any of the rest of Vlad's problems. He didn't even know what Vlad was babbling about when he said half those things. Stealing away the woman he loved? Jack didn't know Vlad was dating anyone, or even crushing on anyone. And the only person Jack had dated since meeting Vlad was Maddie. By all accounts, it didn't make sense.
Once they got upstairs, Jack sat Vlad down on the sofa, grabbed a blanket from under the coffee table, and threw it over his friend's shoulders. It was a good blanket, thick, and warm, and soft. Jack knew because he'd knitted it himself, and he said as much. Then he told Vlad to stay put while he made some cocoa.
While Jack went through the familiar process of warming the milk, and mixing in the powder, and hunting down the marshmallows from wherever Maddie had hidden them this time, he tried to think over what Vlad had said before. There was something about a woman, and a half-formed... something, and a ghost? Or rather, not truly a ghost.
He felt like he was trying to put together a puzzle when he had only been given every other piece, and he'd gone and lost half the pieces he did have. It was, admittedly, rather frustrating, but Jack had done many puzzles with missing pieces—because he had a tendency to lose real puzzle pieces as much as metaphorical ones. He never gave up until he could see what the picture was, missing pieces or no.
When he returned to the living room with two cups of cocoa—he'd made one for himself while he was at it, just because—he saw Danny standing across from Vlad with an angry expression.
"I don't know what you're playing at, Vlad, but I want you out of here. Fly home. Now," he said in a low, growling tone.
"I would love to, Daniel, but alas... I don't have my powers." Vlad replied. "I won't be flying anywhere."
"What do you mean you don't have your powers?" Danny hissed. "You've been overshadowing my dad for like, a week, you're telling me you've lost your powers in the last ten minutes?"
"He used something called a 'ghost catcher' to separate us." Vlad shrugged.
Danny cringed hard. "Oh."
"Worked a bit too well, it seems. My ghost half flew off who knows where. I'm sure it'll come back for me when Jack's asleep."
"Fine, but I'm watching you, Vlad," Danny told him. "If you try anything funny, I'll dropkick you into the Ghost Zone and let you flail. Play nice with Dad, don't flirt with mom, and generally don't be such a fruit loop, or you're done here. Got it?"
"Loud and clear."
"Good."
With that, Danny turned around and left Vlad sighing behind him.
"What was that all about?" Jack asked as he entered the room, at last, two mugs of hot-cocoa in hand.
"You really have no listening comprehension, do you?" Vlad sighed, accepting a mug of cocoa, but not drinking it yet.
"Or maybe you haven't explained anything very well," Jack replied, starting to get a bit huffy.
Vlad couldn't put this all on him, when Vlad had just been saying things that didn't make any sense and expecting him to just know what they meant.
"Like that thing about me stealing the woman you love," Jack continued. "What's that all about? You never told me you were dating anyone. I didn't even know you liked anyone. And the only person I've dated since we met is Maddie, so how could I have stolen the woman you love?"
"Maddie is the woman I love, you utter buffoon," Vlad grumbled, then took a sip of his cocoa.
"Really?" Jack asked. "But... you never said anything. You never told me. How was I supposed to know?"
"I would have thought I was rather obvious about it."
"That's not fair," Jack replied. "With the number of times you've talked about how oblivious I am, it's not fair of you to assume I know things just because they're obvious. You know more than anyone how bad I am at noticing things. You're my best friend, if you liked Maddie, you should have told me."
"And what would you have done if I had? Hm?" Vlad asked. "Let me have her?"
"Well... no," Jack said obviously. "I couldn't do that. Maddie's a person, not something you can just have. If I knew you liked her too, we could have told her together and let her decide. At the very least I would have wanted us both to have a fair chance, instead of just making a move on my own. In fact, we can call her down now and ask her what decision she would have made."
"Really?" Vlad asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "And what happens if she says she would have chosen me?"
"Well... then maybe we can work something out," Jack said. "I'll always support Maddie a hundred percent, no matter what she chooses. And no hard feelings from either of us, whatever she says, right?"
"Very well."
Maddie was reading a book in bed when Jack went to get her, telling her Vlad was here and they had an important question to ask her. She grimaced.
"Something wrong?" Jack asked.
"No, nothing," she said, putting on a smile. "Oh, is that ghost still attached to you?"
"No, I used the ghost catcher to separate it, and it flew off into the Ghost Zone," Jack said. "Then Vlad showed up, which... still not sure how that happened, but I'm working on it."
"The ghost catcher!" Maddie put her palm to her forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of that. I totally forgot we made a ghost catcher."
"Don't feel too bad. I forgot, too. Now come on, Vlad's waiting downstairs."
"Right...." Maddie got up and followed, but she was walking slower than usual.
When they got to the living room, she took a seat on the armchair and Jack sat next to Vlad and started to explain.
"Did you know V-man also had a crush on you in college?" Jack asked. He opened his mouth to continue his speech, but Maddie interrupted him.
"Yes, I knew," she said.
"You did?"
"It was obvious," she and Vlad said in unison.
As much as he loved them both, they sure knew how to make Jack feel stupid at times.
"You and Vlad were both ridiculously obvious about your crushes on me," she continued. "At the time, I wasn't sure if I liked either of you, or who I liked more, so I decided that whoever asked me out first, I would go with, and if it worked, it worked, and if it didn't, it didn't."
"So... what if we'd come to you at the same time to confess our feelings and asked you to choose?" Vlad asked. "What would you have done then? Who would you have chosen?"
Maddie's eyes widened in surprise. "I... I don't know."
"Humor us," Vlad insisted. "Imagine that that had been what happened."
"Well... I suppose there are two possibilities," Maddie said. "You were both very good friends, and I wouldn't want to alienate either one of you by favoring the other. Either, I would have turned you both down to avoid hurting one of you so much that I would have lost him. Or I would have proposed an experiment to go on one date with the both of you and see which one I liked better as a boyfriend and which I preferred as just a friend."
"You always were very scientifically minded," Vlad commented.
"If you'd done the experiment, who do you think you would have picked?" Jack asked. More curious about her thoughts than actually concerned about whether she loved him or Vlad more.
She sighed. "I don't know. I really don't. It would have depended entirely on how you both met the challenge. But I was young, and naïve in college. I'd never dated anyone before, and I didn't know what to look for to know if a relationship would last. What I would have done back then, with the knowledge and experience I had back then, it doesn't really matter now, in the present.
"Knowing what I know now, I know I chose the right guy back then, even if it was just coincidence, or luck... I'm sorry Vlad. You were a good friend then, and I wish our friendship hadn't fallen apart, but the way you are now... you're pushy, and controlling, and I couldn't be happy married to a man like that. I know you both love me, but Jack understands me, and supports me, and even though he's forgetful, he cares about me as a person, and doesn't just want me, like you seem to.
"I just... I just wish we could all be friends like we were before," she said. "Before the accident, before all the resentment, and the pain, and separation. Before you turned into such a creep," she tacked on. "I miss those days. But it's too bad we can't just ignore all the time that's passed, and everything that's happened."
"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Vlad agreed miserably, then took another sip of his cocoa.
"Well why not?" Jack asked. "Why can't we just go back to the way things were between us in the old days?"
"Because you killed me!" Vlad snapped. "Because you were overeager, despite our warnings, and by your incompetence, made me spend two years in a hospital, suffering poor care and constant mistreatment in addition to extreme pain as the ecto-acne simultaneously killed and healed me.
"Did you know, That ectoplasm can do that? Kill someone and resurrect them at the same time? I found that out the hard way. Guess who else found that out the hard way, twenty years after I did?"
"Danny," Jack breathed out.
If the ghost really was somehow Vlad, like he'd claimed to be, then that thing he'd said about Jack killing his son and not even realizing it was starting to make sense.
"In the portal accident," he realized. Killed and resurrected at the same time.
"What?" Maddie asked.
Jack just shook his head. He couldn't explain now. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't even imagine how horrible something like that would be to experience. The way Vlad put it, it sounded like agony.
"Vlad... it was an accident," Jack said.
"That you caused."
"I never meant to—"
"But you did, didn't you," Vlad said. "You pressed that damned button and I didn't hear from you again for twenty years."
"We tried to visit you in the hospital, Vlad," Maddie said. "We tried so many times we were permanently banned from visitation there. They wouldn't let us see you because we weren't relatives. We didn't even know if you'd survived."
"And what about after?" Vlad asked. "After I left the hospital, I became a millionaire. I was all over the news. Why didn't you reach out then?"
"I tried!" Jack told him. "Your receptionist said she was told to screen all calls from me."
"You killed me," Vlad repeated. "Why the hell would I take your calls?!"
"He's only trying to say that we're not the only ones to blame for losing touch," Maddie intervened, leaning forward, though she didn't have the reach across the coffee table to put herself between them. "You shut us out because of your bitter resentment. How were we supposed to reach out to you when you put a wall between yourself and us?"
A wall. That was a perfect metaphor, Jack decided. Ever since they'd reconnected with Vlad, it had felt like there was a brick wall between them, as much as Jack tried to ignore it, and pretend it wasn't there, even he wasn't so oblivious that he didn't notice.
It felt like a Cask of Amontillado situation, except that Vlad was both the one who'd built the wall, and the one trapped behind it, isolated, stuck, and suffering. Jack had burst through many a wall, but he couldn't break down this one. He wanted to help his friend, to save him... he just didn't know how.
"I... I'm sorry, Vlad," Jack said.
It didn't feel like the right thing to say after everything, after what he'd done, intentionally or not. Especially now that he realized the true extent of the consequences of his poorly-thought-out actions. It wasn't strong enough to express his remorse, or tangible enough to fix the damage, but he'd realized, out of nowhere, that he'd never actually said it.
In all these years, he'd never actually apologized. Or, if he had, he didn't remember, which wasn't exactly unlikely. Still, it couldn't do any harm to say it again, if he had said it at all.
"I know I can be overzealous, and clumsy, and thoughtless," he continued. "I didn't choose to be like this, I don't do it on purpose, but I know I do it, and I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to make it up to you, but say the word and I'll do it."
"You could give me Maddie—"
"No, he couldn't," Maddie cut in sharply. "I am not something that can be kept or given away. I thought I already made myself clear about all this."
"Worth a shot."
"Wasn't," she scowled.
"I can't do that," Jack said. "But I will try to do better. Jazz is always suggesting things I can do to help with my forgetfulness, and I never remember to try them, but I'll work with her to start doing that. I'll find ways to stop me being so impulsive. And I'll try to think more. You're always getting on my about how I don't think enough."
"That'll be a real challenge for you," Vlad replied.
"I know," Jack replied with a short laugh. "But I'm willing to do it. Whatever else you are, dead, alive, even a ghost—you're my best friend. And I hurt you, and I want to make amends. If you'll let me."
Vlad looked down his nose at Jack, and sipped his cocoa once more. Jack realized he hadn't even touched his own drink during all this. It was probably lukewarm by now.
"I'll consider it," he said finally. Then he put his drink back down on the table and added, tersely, "It's late, you should go to bed. I'm sure I'll be gone in the morning. I'd like to be left alone for a while... to think."
"Of course," Maddie said. "Come on, Jack, let's leave him be. I'm sure we've bothered him more than enough for one evening."
She stood, and took Jack by the hand to lead him upstairs to their room.
"So... what exactly happened?" she asked once they were alone in their bedroom and Jack was changing into his pajamas. "Why was Vlad doing here? And what happened to the ghost that tried to overshadow you and got stuck? And what did you mean about Danny and his accident with the portal?"
"Slow down, Maddie, I can only answer one question at a time," Jack replied. "I'll start with Vlad and the ghost. Vlad was the ghost."
"What?"
"When he said the ecto-acne killed him and brought him back at the same time..." Jack trailed off to swallow back the discomfort at that mental image. "I think it made him a ghost... but also not a ghost?"
"What, like... a half-ghost?" Maddie asked, he eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Jack imagined he must look like that pretty often. Confused, that is. He knew he didn't look anything like his wife.
"I guess so," he agreed. "When I used the ghost catcher to get rid of the ghost possessing me, it separated me from him, but it also separated Vlad's human self from his ghost self. That's what he said, anyway. Then his ghost self said he couldn't stand to look at me and flew into the portal."
"Rude."
"What do you expect from a—uh..."
Jack had been about to say 'what do you expect from a ghost', but he reconsidered when he remembered who he was talking about. We half-ghosts completely different from regular ghosts? Or were he and Maddie completely wrong about ghosts altogether.
"He was just upset," he said instead. "I think he'd been poking around in my memories, and he saw some things that upset him. He confronted me about my brother."
"I didn't know you had a brother," his wife said.
"I don't anymore," he looked down at the floor and tried not to recall to much and upset himself. "His name was Johnny, but he died falling through ice when we were kids. I... I was supposed to be watching him at the time, but I got distracted."
"Oh, Jack..."
"It was a long time ago," Jack said before she could try to comfort him and only made him linger on the guilt he still felt. "We all made mistakes that day. I should have learned from mine, and not let anyone else get hurt because of my negligence, but I guess I didn't learn well enough."
"How old were you?" she asked gently.
"I was ten," he replied. "Johnny was seven."
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head. It wasn't something he liked remembering, let alone talking about.
"You had other questions," he said, redirecting the subject back to what they'd been talking about before. "I'm sorry, I can't remember what they were...."
"Oh, Danny," Maddie said. "You said something about Danny when Vlad was telling us about what happened to him. And his accident with the portal?"
"Right... I think Vlad was trying to tell me that Danny was like him. Half ghost, I mean," Jack explained. "He told me I'd killed Danny, before I knew it was him. And then he said that thing about ectoplasm and—"
"Someone else found out the hard way, twenty years after he did..." Maddie realized. "Oh, Danny."
"Should we say something to him?" he asked.
She shook her head, although he wasn't sure if she actually meant 'no', or if she was just thinking.
"Why wouldn't he tell us?" she asked.
"Maybe... for the same reason as Vlad?" Jack guessed. "Maybe he blames us for what happened."
"Do you think so? Or maybe... maybe he doesn't feel safe telling us?"
"What?"
"We're ghost hunters," Maddie reminded him. "What if he's worried that our feelings for him might change if we knew he was a ghost."
"Oh no... what should we do?"
"I think... we should let him come to us when he's ready," she said. "Can you imagine how scared he might be if we brought it up to him now? We should wait for him to feel comfortable telling us, and in the meantime we can have some fun reexamining all the research we've ever done on ghosts in order to draw new, differently biased conclusions so Danny doesn't think we think he's evil just because he's half ghost. If he's half-ghost."
"And if he's not, we can reexamine our research so Vlad doesn't think we think he's evil," Jack enthused. "Should we start tonight?"
If reexamining their research and studying ghosts even more carefully than before was the worst thing that came out of this whole situation, than they really were on easy street.
"No, let's start tomorrow," Maddie suggested. "I don't think we should bother Vlad any more for tonight, and no offense, sweetie, but I don't think you'll be able to sneak past him to the lab without being noticed."
"I am pretty hard to miss."
"So come to bed for now, Jack," she said, patting his side of the bed invitingly. "A good night's sleep is a good start."
"Right you are, Maddie!"
He climbed into bed, and the two of them fell asleep cuddled up in each other's arms.
That night, Vlad paced the lab, waiting for his ghost half to decide to come get him. Lousy, good-for-nothing spook, leaving him behind. He'd examined the ghost catcher, and discovered that, for whatever reason, one of the sides separated people from ghosts, and the other side merged the two. Why it would be designed that way, Vlad couldn't fathom, but it was certainly convenient.
While he waited, blanket still hung round his shoulders because it really was quite comfortable, he considered all the things he'd learned, both from Jack's memories, and from the conversation he'd had with his two old friends upstairs.
They missed the old days as much as he did. All three of them wanted their friendship to go back to how it had been. But they all knew now why it couldn't.
Perhaps... perhaps that didn't mean they could never be friends again, even if it could never be like back in college. Perhaps it wasn't too late to forgive and move on.
Finally, Vlad's ghost half returned, as expected. They weren't meant to be separate, after all.
"There you are," Vlad said. "Come now, we can use the device that separated us to merge us back together."
"Good," Plasmius replied. "I scared the butler half to death when he saw me."
Together, they went through the merge side of the ghost catcher.
It wasn't as seamless as Vlad would have hoped. It seemed his ghost half had taken much of his anger with him when they'd been separated, and having it back made him less willing to forgive.
But the reflection stayed with him to. The sting of Maddie telling him off for being possessive and controlling, of both her and Jack pointing out that he wasn't treating her like a person, but a prize. Was he really that awful? He'd never thought of her that way before he'd developed feelings for her.
Perhaps it would be better to just let those feelings go, after all. She'd made her decision, and she didn't regret it, or want anything other than she got. Maybe he should cut his losses and give up before it further ruined a good friendship on the verge of rekindling.
Perhaps he should forgive Jack, too.
He would never be able to forget what had gone down between them. For years he'd tried to erase those bad memories from his head, of his accident, and his long hospital stay, and his slow and painful death. He'd even gone so far as to get plastic surgery to remove the pitted scars all over his skin, but even though he couldn't see them, he couldn't forget them either.
Jack was giving him a second chance, even though he'd tried to kill him, and steal away his wife and children, and even though he was a ghost, the very thing Jack hated most in the world. Perhaps Vlad could extend the oaf the same courtesy... for old times' sake.
There was much to consider as he flew, whole again, through the Ghost Zone to his own portal, and his home.
21 notes · View notes
layersofsymbolism · 2 days
Text
I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.
Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.
You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.
As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"
You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it." 
He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?" 
You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?" 
His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"
You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"
He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"
You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"
He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?" 
You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."
Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."
You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head. 
After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless. 
"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."
You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.
The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over. 
Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself." 
Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"
She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."
You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous." 
You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."
They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors. 
It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall. 
He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away. 
His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I  killed them. Leave, before I..."
You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..." 
He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."
He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands. 
You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."
A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.
The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.
"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels. 
"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room. 
The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."
You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration. 
"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours. 
Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."
24 notes · View notes
badbatcher-99 · 10 hours
Text
Season Finale Predictions
⚠️ Y’all know the drill ⚠️ spoilers below ⬇️
We’re doomed …
Haha just kidding let’s get into it 👏 there is so much that can happen this episode I think it’s pretty much impossible to predict what’s going to happen. I mean there are a few things we can predict but as to how the other 90% of this finale is going to go is beyond me.
1) zillo beast 💕
first things first… not so much a prediction as more of truth… we know omega is going to free the zillo beast, we don’t know how and we don’t know how that’s going to affect everything else. She could release it early on, or it be released late in the game. I can certainly see it being released pretty early or atleast halfway through the episode to amp up the stakes, cause the zillo beast is her own being, she’s pretty angry, and she is going to rampage against everything. I don’t think anyone is going to be able to control her. Her release is not only going to be problem for hemlock but for the bad batch and omega as well even if it does serve to help them out in some way. It certainly adds some unpredictability to the episodes events. Just like her first appearance in the bad batch, she is very much Alien esque. She’s in the walls, she’s hiding, you never quite know where she is or where she will strike next. She’s big so she’s gong to cause carnage but she’s going to go where she wants. I place my money on the fact that she will destroy Tantis and also kill hemlock or in someway be responsible for his demise. Hemlock said to omega “actions have consequences” or to some effect if that… and that’s what this will end up being for him. I can very well imagine somehow after the climax hemlock is able to scurry away, and he thinks he’s in the clear only for the zillo beast to pop up and gobble him up. Think like that imperial captain dying at the end of s3e4. A small part of season 3 has also been showing how far reaching hemlock’s research has been: the clones, the creepy black vines, palpatine clones, the children, the zillo beast. I think it’s safe to say that after all the harm he’s done, his experiments are going to bite back hard. He’s going to get what’s coming to him.
2) Emerie and Echo
I think omega and the children are going to escape before emerie and echo get to them. There’s no reason for the writers to show us omegas escape plan if she was going to get saved before she could even execute it. I think echo and emerie are actually going to end up being the ones to release the clone prisoners. They either do this before going to find omega or after they find out omegas escaped. I can very well see them letting the prisoners go first… and then before they can even head towards omega the zillo beast is unleashed and all plans are thrown out the window. This is one of the predictions that I’m pretty unsure about, I can see this happening in just not sure how it will happen and how it will seamlessly meld with the plot. I also am not sure how emerie would be able to get echo down to the vault anyway. It seems like only commandos are allowed down that far so unless they find a commando uniform I don’t think they are going to make it all the way there without raising suspicion.
3) CX-2
Lots of opportunities for CX-2 in the finale. These two images pretty much foreshadow some shadow clone captain or leader making an appearance in the end. He’s got different armor and a pretty brutal looking weapon
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now I’m not sure if CX-2 is going to be the one to use the big suit or if there is another clone that has been brainwashed specifically to wear this suit. My money is on Hemlock unleashing CX-2 to find and eliminate the bad batch. It’s obvious they are making their way slow and steady towards the base, hemlocks trick card is the shadow clones, he uses them to get what he wants and I have no doubts he’ll use CX-2 to clean up this mess. I don’t know if this confrontation will happen outside or inside the base though. Cause CX-2 has been a thorn in the batches side for a few episodes, especially to crosshair. I think either we get another one on one battle between CX-2 and crosshair or we get the whole batch versus CX-2. I can see both happening. The major question though is “is CX-2 tech?” If he is then I think we would get the whole squad versus tech so that there’s the shared experience of his reveal. But if it’s not I can see a one on one fight being the way to go because overcoming Cx-2 is like a finale to crosshairs character arc, he’s overcoming his past. Im not really sure when this reveal would happen though. I can see it happening early on or in the middle. I’d really like it if it happened earlier on then we would get the whole squad going in… i wouldn’t really want it to be a middle part of the episode cause I think the much meaner looking CX clone is going to be one of the main bosses… though if it turns out the meaner looking CX outfit is just an outfit meant to be worn by CX-2 then yeah I can see this fight happening in the middle of the episode. Idk this is getting pretty complicated. A tech reveal would be a major moment, so I don’t know how early in the episode that can happen. My other theory is that the meaner looking clone is Cody, but I’m not really behind it.
4) Rex and the clone rebellion
I 100% believe Rex is going to arrive with the clone rebellion. I think in echos last moments on the ship he was able to get word out. But not sure how he could do that if long range coms are monitored. I’d like to think that when Rex arrives, Wolfe is with him 💕 and that’s how we get the how did wolffe leave the empire reveal. Bonus points if Gregor is right beside them too and we get the old man trio ! I think there will be a tag up with the clone prisoners and it’ll be a storm trooper versus clone trooper battle. Hopefully scorch gets his head banged a bit and joins the fight with the clones.
5) rampart!
This is so up in the air. Last time we saw rampart he was confronted by storm troopers. But not necessarily captured. The bad batch may swoop on and rescue him. Other wise I guess rampart gets taken to the base. Not sure what’s going to happen from there… I mean hemlock already knows the bad batch are out to save omega haha 🤣 what other info are you going to ask for or need. Not sure if rampart would give the bad batch up or not…. But hear me out I actually think somehow rampart is going to be roped into helping these kids find their way home. I know…. It’s crazy…. But what other narrative purpose will rampart serve. He’s on Tantis for a reason, the writers have something in store for him I just am not sure if it’s good or bad. With all the talk of the empire betraying him and crosshairs change I’d like to think that rampart will turn a new leaf too.
6) omega and the children.
Omega is def freeing that zillo beast. I’m not sure to what extent that means for her. Is she freeing it and then coming back to the vault??? Or is she taking the children with them. The problem is that those kids aren’t as trained as her and there’s even a baby … I’m not sure they would make it though the walls like omega did. Would omega let the zillo beast go and return to the others and try and escape through the door with all the chaos??? Or is she going to go around and free them herself??? It’s really up in the air at this point. And when they do escape what then? Kind of nervous that we will get a parallel scene to that one part of the episode with the bounty hunters in season 1 where she is looking into the tubes of the dead kaminoin bodies except this time it’s with a palpatine clone ya know very creepy. Really hope the final climax isn’t in the vault… but it could be I just don’t see how everyone would end up down there. It’ll be very interesting if that is what ends up happening.
7) hunter, crosshair and wrecker
I …. Do not know…. I’m not sure how they will get into Tantis base … maybe they’ll use batchers kennel again??? Not sure… as for what they do once they are inside there’s a lot that could happen. But out of all the pieces on the board these are the ones I’m the most unsure about.
8) Tantis
I would very much like to see the whole place in flames, I want it absolutely wrecked, I want to be able to see the sky and see sparks and embers. I want climatic battles as smoke and fire rages around the opponents. I don’t want clean sterile battle rooms, I need there to be absolute chaos. I need to see it be a battlefield. I can 100% see a parallel to the Clone wars ending but with hunters helmet. Where his helmet is on the steel floor, broken surround by embers and smoke, the reflection is of the bad batch running away to escape the flames of Tantis. It would be … amazing
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
9) the end / epilogue
A big theme of this show has been about settling down and family. I 100% believe we are going to see the bad batch get their happy ending, they will finally be able to live in peace on some random planet on the outer rim. I’m not really sure what will happen to emerie or the remaining shadow clones. I thought that maybe the shadow clones would actually be a good plot point for a clone rebellion show but it seems like the shadow clones are directly tied to hemlock and may not be able to be continued without his presence. Tho I wouldn’t put it past tarkin to swoop in and continue it himself by stealing the brainwashing machines not really sure how he would do that. If the shadow clone story continue though then I can very well see emerie being a MC in the clone rebellion show as she has a lot of information on that kind of research probably. But I can also see emerie being in charge of helping the kids find their way home. My biggest fear is that omega would go with them but I can see her saying her good byes and wishing them all luck. I don’t know if emerie will survive by the end of the show but if she does I can also see her coming to stay with the batch too… or at-least adventuring out on her own now that she is free. Anyway back to the batch 😭 I don’t think they would live by themselves… I think it’s likely that the citizens of Pabu would relocate to another planet possibly and that’s where the batch stay with. Though I don’t like the idea of them leaving the archium behind. I would LIKE for everyone to stay on pabu but the empire knows about it now… maybe the empire won’t even bother coming back since there’s pretty much no resources there and it’s unstable… (with all the earthquakes ya know ) if tech IS alive then you bet your bottom dollar we are getting a reunion KISS!!! Dee also mentioned that there is an epilogue and I’m about to cry cause this can be really anything.
Tumblr media
It could be a few weeks or months after the escape. We see everyone settled and happy
It could be a few years down the line, maybe omega has decided to go off and explore the galaxy on her own and the batch have to let her go
It could be MANY years down the line to the point where the empire has been defeated. In this case we either get old men bad batch or … dare I say it omega talking to their graves 😭 I wouldn’t mind the old man path though cause 1) I would like to see that haha 🤣 2) it shows they all lived happy lives to the end. But I don’t mind just a few weeks or years after the escape too really leaves it open ended. I think watching the bad batch let omega go to go on her own journey is pretty on the nose to what Dee said about the shows ending reminding him of his own path raising his daughters.
Anyway!!!! That’s all I have pretty much at the moment. The only thing I have is I have some theories about what the bad batch would do in their retirement haha but that’s for another post.
I salute you all, it’s been a joy speculating with y’all 💕
18 notes · View notes
hzdtrees · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Wings
303 notes · View notes
ruporas · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
wolfwood redraws (ID in alt text)
2K notes · View notes
uncanny-tranny · 6 months
Text
Whenever people who are entrenched in diet culture talk about how terrible chemicals are, I just want to whip out this:
Tumblr media
#diet culture#diet culture tw#described images#image description in alt#'it's got CHEMICALS in it' and so do you! and me too! IT'S ALL CHEMICALS ALL THE WAY DOWN#instead of running from this world we must learn to embrace it#i'm not particularly angry at people who say this because it makes me think that they're incredibly invested in diet culture...#...i just don't want the whole 'food = bad' or 'bodies = bad' to go unchallenged...#...part of the reason why diet culture seems just as prevalent now (if not moreso) is partially because it isn't really...#...challenged or questioned without provocation. it's just assumed to be correct because it makes you 'feel in control'#when chemicals are bad you can control what chemicals you consume. it's individualistic and places the blame onto you for 'being good'#it places responsibility onto the person in such a way that it becomes impossible to fulfill#it isn't that i'm upset that people want to treat their bodies in a way they think is responsible...#...moreso that the *way* they go about it ensures that they're stuck in a cycle of self-blame and even self-hatred#because the METHOD is ineffective. not the desire to treat your body well#also the state of ohio looks stupid and i do Not respect it#it looks like a ball that is simultaneously deflated and over-inflated#also their state flag looks silly to me#it looks like the person who was making it fell asleep making it#i'm just clowning on ohio at this point. have never been to ohio but. are you guys okay
984 notes · View notes