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stab-the-son-of-a · 2 years

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Stabbed

At long last I found this little thread again, and this post. Partial inspiration for this piece, the other half being @whumpers-monthly challenge. Javontae was last seen here.

To get to the stabbing part of the prompt, skip to past the line break. The first part includes throat gore and discussions of death. Second part includes stabbing, hand whump and gore, and mouth whump. The whumpee in the second part is mentioned to have previously drugged a 20 year old woman, but she was safe other than that. There is a comment that could be read as victim blaming. There are a few kisses at the end. Please ask to tag.

“Let’s say all you had on hand was… some wires-”

“Like from a lamp?” Javontae asked.

“Yes, exactly, but lemme finish,” the caller returned, excitedly scribbling down her notes. “So let’s say you’ve got… a lamp. A pair of scissors. And… let’s shake it up and say you gotta keep them in the house, so no transport.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Javontae joked. Already, he could remember all the previous ‘hypotheticals’ this caller had given him. Admittedly the scenario with the water hose and leaving them outside to the elements had been inspired in its simplicity. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about how literally freezing cold that poor bastard must have been. “Becca, am I to assume I can’t just slit the guy’s carotid and be done with it?”

“What makes you say it’s a guy?” Becky asked, just a tad too defensive.

“Because you have a type. Tall, lanky, scruffy hair, cat loving, crippling self doubt…”

“Okay okay! No need to call me out, Tae, jeez.”

Javontae snickered and gestured vaguely for her to continue before remembering the limitations of a phone call. “So can I slit the guy’s throat or not?”

She made a noise of contemplation, which was unusual enough that Javontae sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“Oh? Look at you, branching out.”

“I know, I know. I’m not one for just ending things, puts a bad taste in my mouth but… Yeah, I think I might try to lean into a darker twist this time. How would that work, would it be like in movies where they spray everywhere?”

“Honey, please. I am a professional.” He let out a put upon, exaggerated sigh and checked his nails like he’d seen Fran do a million times before. To be honest, it had quite the dismissive air to it and he found he enjoyed it.

“So. Throat cutting,” Becky prompted.

“‘So throat cutting’ indeed. Hollywood, as always, gets itself all mixed up. It’s not quick and clean. It’s like the CPR of death tropes, nothing clean, pretty or reliable here. It’s not a sure thing unless you’re careful to get that carotid or jugular. You know, there was one fellow who’d managed just to mangle the trachea pretty good instead. Rendered him completely mute.”

Becky gasped and launched herself to her feet. “Wait! Nope, nope. No,” she chuckled, excitedly clicking her pen as she paced. “Nope. I’m not going to go with the death. That’s the easy way out. That’s the hack’s job, that’s for people without imagination! No, taking his voice is much better symbolically and brings an end to his identity and isolates him even further. Oh you are a lifesaver!”

Javontae laughed. “Quite literally.”

“Oh, yeah, my little pet project lives to see another day, apparently. Even if he does get out of this little pickle, he’ll never forget it or be able to get back to normal.” She let out a contented sigh. “I do love when it’s an accidental hero’s journey.”

Javontae hummed his agreement. “Anything else I can help you with, Bex?”

“Yeah, actually- should I just aim not to slice through those arteries or maybe I should stab him in the throat like…?” In his mind’s eye, he could imagine her taking her pen and pantomiming stabbing herself in the throat. The choking noise really sold it.

“You’re gonna want something pretty sharp for the throat, so I dunno if the scissors bit will work well there.”

“Damn.”

“Or… you could use the wire and break some of the cartilage in his trach, then stab his thigh to check if he can still scream.”

“Yes! That’s perfect!”

At her victorious shout, Javontae had to pull the phone away briefly to check if his hearing was still intact. “Jesus Mary and Joseph, Becky, I’m happy to help but damn.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just all coming together so well. Crush the trachea, damage the vocal cords, check it with scissors to the thigh… I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short.”

“I gotta get this out of my system before I lose the drive. You’ve been great! Thanks again, Tae, and say hi to the wife and kids for me!”

“Of course, of course. Have fun, Becky.”

The line went dead with another rushed thank you and goodbye, and Javontae leaned back in his chair, basking in the glow of a job well done. And the mental images were pretty nice, too, if he said so himself.

–––

He had free time after his shift ended because his mother-in-law had agreed to take the kids for the weekend. That gave him about three hours and two days to follow up on a lead he’d found some months back and idly kept track of in his spare time, and that had barely taken but a minute.

Becky’s proposal had sat in the back of his mind, far more appealing than the rest of the banal calls he had to sit through. There were only so many ways to warn newbies about the basics of ‘don’t play with guns unless you want to kill someone’ without losing one’s mind, after all.

But, on the plus side, his precious cargo sat bound in the backseat, nestled between the toddler booster seat and the car seat, bound and gagged with blood drying in a thin stream down the side of his face and sticking the blindfold to his skin. Periodically Javontae glanced back, the practiced motion of a parent with excitable and bellicose children in the back, and noted whenever his captive roused briefly along the drive.

It was good that the man had woken up slightly, Javontae still hadn’t heard the last of it from Milli after he accidentally cracked open a man’s skull with a bottle, believing that the glass would shatter, and ruined their evening plans. He loved his wife dearly, but man could she bring up the past.

Humming, Javontae turned up the radio as his passenger squirmed and moaned into the gag. The rope kept the man’s knees, wrists and elbows tightly pressed together, and the seatbelt held him upright. With the child safety locks in place, if by some miracle Mr. Alexander Divirgilio did manage to slip his bonds, he wouldn’t be able to go far. The only real issue was getting him out of the car and into the garage, because Millie had already pulled in, but all he had to do was snag her keys from the rack and do a little switch, Divirgilio stuck helpless even as he began to thrash in the silent car.

“You know, you’re ridiculously easy to track,” Javontae said as he dragged Divirgilio out of the car, tossing him to the floor. Without his hands to catch him, or any real knowledge of where his body was in the blackness of the blindfold, the man hit the concrete with a solid crack of a snapped wrist and secondary headwound.

“I’d take off that blindfold, but I think you’d like to come out of here alive, right, Divirgilio?”

Divirgilio screamed something into the gag. Rolling his eyes, Javontae left the man there and then moved to set up the chair. What had Becky said, cords like from a lamp, and scissors. Well, Javontae wasn’t any sort of purist by any metric, and this was more for him and his wife, not to be truthful.

An extension cord and a couple lengths of chain did well. While he was messing with the restraints, locking Divirgilio’s arms to the arms of the chair, Millie walked in with a glass of wine and a curious look on her face.

“Now,” she began, taking a sip and taking in the sight of her man at work. “Here I was ready to drag you from whatever nonsensical piece of scrap you’d brought in and give you a proper welcome. Never did I think you’d brought me home a gift.”

“Hey honey!” Javontae tossed a grin over his shoulder at her, then returned to tie a cord around Divirgilio’s neck and leashing it to the spine of the chair. “I was hoping to have this all ready for you.”

Setting down her glass, Millie approached him, hands drifting along his shoulders, layering kisses on his neck and jaw as he finished the knot.

As they both stepped back to admire the way Divirgilio was trussed up - legs and arms and back all bound to the same parts of the chair’s anatomy, rusted out chains around his ankles and old electric-taped cords winding around his wrists and neck. “I think it’s perfect. You’re too good to me.”

They shared another kiss, then Javontae asked, “Do we have a pair of scissors lying around?”

Divirgilio groaned again, a reedy, desperate sound. Millie moved over toward the junk drawer on Javontae’s work bench. “Blunt or sharp? Ohhh, baby, look!” She brandished the exacto-knife she’d unearthed, and the letter opener.

“Either will work,” Javontae answered, giddy at her excitement, then turned back to Divirgilio. “Alrighty. This is what we’ll do. I’m going to remove that gag, you can scream if the pain gets too much, but I won’t remove that blindfold. You’re not gonna go running to anyone after, considering how few allies you have left after that messy divorce.”

Divirgilio stiffened and tugged against the chair, only succeeding in tightening the noose around his neck and choking himself.

“Yes, yes, I know all about the affair… and the baby… and the lack of child support.” Removing the gag now, he continued, “And the woman you drugged up.”

“We were in a bar!” Divirgilio snarled. “She dropped the charges!”

“That’s not an exoneration of guilt and you damn well know it.”

“Nothing happened to the bitch. The charges were dropped. So she got a little too tipsy but she got home safe–”

“Don’t make me cut out your disgusting tongue.”

“Fuck. Fuck, man, just let me go.”

“No,” Millie purred, coming up behind Divirgilio to rest the exacto knife against the soft flesh under his chin, and holding out the scissors to her husband with the other. “No, that young woman got home safe because you were distracted and the security helped her home. There’s no bartender to pour you an angel shot here.”

A sickly sheen of sweat dotted Divirgilio’s brow and he began to hyperventilate. “Shit, shit, fucking shit.”

“Nicely put,” Javontae said, then took the scissors from Millie and turned them in his hand so he could slam the blades into Divirgilio’s thigh.

On cue, the man let out a blood curdling scream, jerking in place and nicking his lower jaw as Millie kept her grip steady, holding his head in place. Blood gushed up in the hole after Javontae managed to tug it free of muscle, especially as he wiggled it free.

“Yep, you sure are a screamer.”

“You could have given me a little warning, hun, this bitch nearly busted my hearing.” Nails trailing along Divirgilio’s jaw, thumb against the cartilaginous part of his throat, she moved in where Javontae had just stood a moment ago. She pressed the edge of the knife into Divirgilio’s mouth, tugging his lip aside with the very threat of cold metal slicing through flesh.

“Beg for me, Alex, beg like I’m about to flay open your face.”

He hesitated, the motion of speaking bringing his lips closer to being sliced open, but Millie jerked the blade back, cutting a notch in the side of his mouth.

“Beg, bitch.”

Sobbing, tears and blood intermingling and dripping down his face, he whimpered, “Please, God, please don’t hurt me. Don’t kill me. God, let me go.”

“I’m not really hearing the desperation. Are you, baby?”

“Nope.” Javontae punctuated his observation by slamming the scissors into the palm of Divirgilio’s hand. If the sound of crunching bone was any indication, he’d hit a bone or two. Maybe. “Are these the tarsal bones or metatarsals?” he wondered aloud, Divirgilio’s choked cries interspersed between his words. As if it wasn’t a fucking delight and a thrill, he twisted the scissors around, mangling the tendons and releasing more blood.

“I think you need to go back to anatomy and physiology. Those are the metacarpals, honey.”

“Are you sure?” Uncaring of Divirgilio’s screams, he continued to twist up the scissors until they remained upright, embedded either in wood or muscle, he couldn’t bother to tell which. “Do you still have that letter opener?”

“I do. Here you go.” Instead of handing it to her husband, Millie slammed the metal piece into Divirgilio’s leg, next to the other gushing hole. Patting the man’s cheek, hand coated now in blood and tears, she backed up and grabbed a towel to wipe the sprayed and smeared blood on her face and hands.

“I should’ve warned you to wear something old and ratty. Sorry about that.” Javontae grabbed Divirgilio by the jaw and angled his head up. If it weren’t for the blindfold, he’d be staring up at the ceiling, at the recessed lighting. In one swift motion, Javontae sunk the letter opener between Divirgilio’s ribs and was rewarded by a choked, wet gush of blood. Trembling, too pale and weak to do much more than cry, Divirgilio sagged in the chair and bled.

Pulling her husband into a hug, angling them both so his arms were around her waist, Millie sighed contently and they watched Divirgilio’s struggles lapse into stillness.

“We should clean up,” Millie said, the reluctance in her voice the same as someone saying they have to leave a party to be a responsible adult in the early morning. “I’ll drag him to a clinic if you’ll clean up the blood?”

Javontae groaned good naturedly. “You know I hate dealing with bleach. But, for you, my loving wife, anything.”

“There’s my loving husband.” With a final peck on the cheek, the couple detached and detangled and set about their respective chores.

#whumpers monthly #issue no 2 #stabbed #lf rebecca susan langdon #live feed series #wcc javontae #wcc millicent #improvised weapons #whump discussion #past off screen drugging #hand whump #mouth whump #kissing cw #blood cw #wcc series #yes it's part of Live Feed and the whump hotline #implied stalking #kidnapping #physical restraints

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mindibindi · 3 years

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Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!

The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.

Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.

Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.

If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to fucking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.

As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed shit. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.

But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.

But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they fucked up a good thing.

Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.

As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.

One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.

The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).

My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ask #yeah this one got out of hand

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howdoyousleep3 · 3 years

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Here I am writing a sappy love note to all of you even after I said I wouldn’t do this, but it brings me happiness to show love to others and this year was pretty challenging and we deserve this.

I don’t even know how to begin to explain what this page and this fandom and all of you mean to me. Before I had this fandom in my life I was sad. I had no hobbies, I went to work, I came home, I dicked around on the internet; there were very few things that brought me much happiness.

What started with finding this fandom and writing a little Daddy Steve that I wanted to see on “paper” has brought me such incredible amounts of joy and happiness. Never have I ever felt so loved and appreciated. I know I started my blog in November (i think??) of 2019 but 2020 is where we’ve grown. Look, I hit this moment last week–

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

You make me feel cherished here. You make me feel adored. You support me in a way I’ve never experienced before. Writing brings me joy but you supporting my writing and loving on it brings me the most joy. You’ve helped me grow as a person and as a writer and you have helped me create these worlds that we cherish together and share as one.

This is a special place for me and it is because of you and I’ll never be able to repay you for the happiness you bring me.

Here are a few people I want to shoutout specifically while I have the time to do so. This is going to be so long, bear with me plz:

@cantabile-l, you are the softie we all dream to be, my precious jo bean. You are intelligent and so very sensitive to others in the best way possible and I hold you and our friendship so close to my heart. I love you.

@maddiewritesstucky, you are my sister soul mate and nothing will convince me otherwise. You show me immense support, you bring me so much sexual frustration, and I am baffled I can be so close to someone when we’ve literally never even met in person. Lord help everyone in Hawaii when we meet up god knows when. I love you.

@ixalit, you are my bub, my poet, my porn provider. You have a soul so deep and broad I swear it stretches over here to me in my state. I can only hope that you continue to share your talent and love with the world. I love you.

@musette22, you are my sweet sweet minniebug and your friendship came at a time when I needed it most. You always know exactly what to say to me at the exact time I need to hear it and seeing your texts on my phone when I wake up in the morning makes me smile. I will always be hear to listen to your Seb and Chris shouts. I love you.

@rainbowsandcoconut, my baby Ditte there are very few people that make me laugh and smile more than you do. There is no one else in this world who loves Chris Evans more than you do either, stg. Even if we don’t talk every day I feel your presence in my corner nonetheless and I hope you feel mine as well. I love you.

@imlittlebitdie, Riley bb when I think of the word support I immediately think of you. You are so thoughtful and a pillar of support in my life. You have taught me how to be a good friend, so much about privilege, and the intricacies of hockey. I love you.

@andysmountains, my lizard-loving plant-loving dose of sunshine. You are so special to me and our friendship is a light in my life as well as the pictures of your kitties and plants. I can’t wait for the plant tour. #BuckyBear4Life

@sheetsforwhichimmade, oh god Soph I know we just recently and drunkenly confessed our love for each other but I must do it again at such a time. Your James/Stevie brain blows my own mind, your texts about Boyfriend make me scream, and seeing your name show up on my phone makes me so happppppyyyyy. I love you.

@doctorenterprise, my Daddy Twin, my fellow Ball Gobbler, I know our friendship was just kindled but there isn’t a conversation that I have had with you that hasn’t made me giggle or smile. You are the ultimate hypeman, you have the Daddy Brain, and I can’t wait to continue on into 2021 with you by my side.

@ceratonia-siliqua! My honeybun! You have the largest heart that anyone has ever had and I wish I could drive across the country just to snuggle you close. I hope 2021 treats you better. You deserve the best things life has to offer. I love you.

@becassine, my sweet bratty Bex where did you come from? You are literally the most beautiful creature I’ve ever set eyes on, your way with words is unmatched, and no one else hypes like you do. I hope you get all the lovin’ and touchin’ you deserve in 2021. Thank you for loving me. I love you.

@thegodswife, Manda you are such a constant source of, “i’m not crazy, right??”. Your hype is unreal, I don’t know how you don’t have more attention given to your work, and you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I love you.

@hannah-stagram My sweet baby Hannah Banana you are someone who I feel understand me on a different level than some others. You are sweet, you are caring, you show me so much love and kindness. Your random hype texts on some mornings bring such a smile to my face. I love you.

@hanitrash, giiiiirl I don’t know how you do it. You work, you have a family, you write some of the best smut out there and the ideas never stop flowing. You are inspirational. I miss you and love you.

@trekchik, my Meetcute Queen I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us in 2021. Thank you for all the support this year. I miss you and love you.

@rorybarnesrogers, rory baby I lub talking to you almost every day. You are so fucking funny and supportive and I can’t wait to read that damn story. I love you.

@the1918, Lynne even with us talking things out now, my happiest fandom memories this year most definitely include you. Your talent is unparalleled, as is your hype, and I only wish the best for you in the next year.

Even more love goes out to all of these beautiful beautiful people who bring a smile to my face every day who I love with all of my being!

@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier @sunflowersstan @fishcustardandclintbarton, @thiccbuckybarnesfic, @babyyhoneyydarling, @tae-withsuga, @hbalbat, @tonguetiedmisfit1, @martelldoran, @kalee60, @martianjuice, @darter-blue, @crownofstardustandbone, @solasnagealai-escapism, @stardi293, @cuteplanties, @sweeterthanthis, @fandomfluffandfuck, @willbakewithstucky, @thewaythatwerust, @softestziam, @ozarkthedog, @seb-stan-lover, @fafulous, @littlesurfergrl, @pixidustprincess, @dreadlockholiday, @maireadtbts, @korean-disaster, @allegedlyann, @hoeforthegays, @justice-for-plums, @mossystark

I know I’m forgetting someone and it’s gutting me but I have been working on this for three hours now and I must eat din din.

I love you I love you I love you.

#not me on my silky sheet bullshit lmao #i couldn't resist #the blue is just too pretty #plz keep me in check #tell me if i've forgotten you #happy new year babyloves

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fatherramiro · 3 years

Note

I don’t have facebook (thank god) so I can’t check. But what are the WORST lost takes you’ve seen on facebook ? :-)

WELL THERE ARE SO MANY (also yeah every day i think about deleting my facebook and every day i see a new lost take and stick around to raise my blood pressure)

first off its very genuinely stuck in old lost fandom mindset so there's SO much sexism/racism (minimal homophobia but that's because lost has no gay characters lol). at one point one of the wayward mods had to be like "y'all need to stop attacking evie just because you don't like kate" and people threw a god damn shitfit about being asked to be nice about a real person

recently there was a post that was like "hey wasn't it a bit hypocritical that sawyer killed a bunch of dudes and he's like a hero but michael tried to save his son and he got punished" and when i say the comments section was terrible!!! people hate ana lucia until they can use her death to demonize michael

once a woman said she found dan's voice attractive and several men decided to tell her that she woudn't find him attractive after she watched saving private ryan bc he played a coward in that which is both a gross misunderstanding of spielberg's intent with the character and also wrong

there's this iconic post where this absolutely batshit individual tried to convince us that eloise actually loved dan and he went into the others camp to get her to kill him and to this day i still don't know what the fuck is going on with it. i think about it once a week

sawyer apparently couldn't exist today bc cancel culture which. good.

someone didn't know who charlotte was? and when the hatch shared their podcast interview with bex where she was like "hey maybe it wasn't chill to kill off the only lady and promote the dudes to series regulars" people were like "MAYBE IF CHARLOTTE WERE USEFUL"

a bunch of people were complaining about naveen's accent today

tell you what, i'll go dumpster diving for some good takes for you all on the regular because lord

#lost blogging with julian

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the1918 · 3 years

Text

2020 for the1918

Am I the last person to make this list? Maybe. Do I regret that? Yes. Am I making it anyways because my cognitive behavioral therapy is teaching me fix my avoidance issues? Also Yes.

Let’s do this: @The Trees In Front of Cevans’s House and @Bucky’s Arm... you da real MVPs.

But other than them...

Thank You to Everyone that Truly Made My 2020:

@cantabile-l Jo (Daddy Dumpster™ Co-Founder) — I have to list you first. How could I not? Every friendship I’ve made in this fandom comes back to you. We literally bonded over porn lookalikes and started this craziness called the Stucky Porn Lookalikes Archive ( @stucky-lookalikes-archive ) to preserve the porn, and it now has now has 85k hits and 500 bookmarks (!!!?!!). But it’s more than that, even more than starting the Daddy Dumpster™ and bonding over culihos. Bespoke got finished because you got me excited enough to want it, just like half a dozen other fics. You were also the basis for many, many other friendships that I list below. Your nesting head canons were the inspiration for so, so many A/B/O moments in my fics. We’re so on the same length on an intellectual and spiritual level (I feel like you and me and @ixalit are three parts of one whole ❤) and I am in love with you for it. Culihos forever.

@hanitrash Hani (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) —I’m so, so damn glad you’re in my life. We share that sick sense of humor and refusal to adopt a filter. You add flavor to our Dumpster™ with your wit, and I feel so warm when you share pics and updates about the family with us. You were the first person I ran to when I “discovered” HTP and you held my hand 😂 And Jesus—your talent. I could go on and on and on about Through The Darkness I Heard Your Voice and Private Showing, but also one of my New Year’s resolutions is to start reading your work as Loralynne Summers. Thank you for making me smile every day of last year since April.

@trekchik Jini (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) — I can’t speak to the number of laugh-out-loud, belly-grabbing, cackling moments I have had in a year that could easily have been shit otherwise, all because of you. I feel like you’ve truly become a member of my family; like, I see you posting in the Dumpster™ when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, “Oh, what’s the fam up to today?”. I know I’ve gone on and on about your talent (absolute queen of dialogue and pacing) before, but I don’t thank you enough for keeping the Porn Archive alive when the rest of us are slacking. Your Stucky Tumblr Drabbles (especially the meet cutes) puts a smile on half the fandom’s face regulary, and I’m excited to re-read the wonderful Anagnorsis & Peripeteia soon. Here’s to another year of weird dildo pictures.

@thegodswife Amanda (Dumpster™ Citizen) — I feel like we were literally destined to become friends. The love I feel for you and your little family is real and immense, and I feel like your victories (in life and in writing) are my victories. You have made a slow but steady convert of me to Shrinkyclinks with fics like peaches and because it's christmas, and I am in awe of your talent for writing charged dynamics with jaw-dropping moments. This fandom is lucky to have such a gem as you. 2021 is going to be the Year of Amanda (*clinks Lindeman’s Framboise glasses 🥂*)

@ixalit Max (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My relationship with you has and continues to be lifechanging for more reasons than I can even go into on tumblr. You make me laugh. You make me cry (usually in good ways). You make me horny by supplying the #porn-and-fun as the dutiful resident horny teenage boy of Dumpster™. I remember so clearly when we first messaged talking about your Evanstan thoughts and fics, and I knew your writing was special then (omg, Hiraeth?? How dare). You deserve all the success you earned in 2020 and every bit more success that you will continue to have this year. There is no one else I would rather have with me as we make this ~journey through Song of the Rolling Earth together.

@becassine Bex (Dumpster™ Citizen) — What can I say about my lucky charm? 🍀 I found our friendship later in the year and I feel it was truly central to the way I finished out my year with a bang (lol). Your encouragement to finish Bespoke supercharged me, and I’m still riding that high in writing SoRE. But for every bit we talk about you being the Queen of Hype (Becassine, First of Her Name), I am also stunned by your own gorgeous writing. The Way I Feel For You is a gift to this fandom and it’s gonna keep rocking our world, along with any other creative endeavor you choose to embark on. Thank you for the treasure of your continued friendship.

@darter-blue Bec (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My gorgeous, gorgeous cunt of a friend. What ever am I going to do with you? I feel like you and I have clicked so perfectly and so instantly, and I feel such a strong connection to you. I have been enamored with your skill and your style since I first stumbled across your Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story series and then rapidly gobbled up your other writing. Getting to collab with you on No Vacancies was a dream come true. You make me feel so connected to the outside world and humanity even in this bizarre time and even though you’re on the other side of the world.

@kalee60 Kel (Dumpster™ Citizen) — You flawless sass-master. You brilliant human. You tricky little bastard. What a perfect addition to the Dumpster™ you have been! And your talent, Jesus... just being around you makes me want to write. I have truly never seen someone with as much talent write so prolifically, and I am in very real awe of it. If I had to pick “Fic of the Year” for me, I would not hesitate to pick Push The Button—it turned my world upside down—but for as much as we talk about that epic, your AU Extravaganza is really miracle to behold. And I am so, so pumped for you during this exciting time coming up in your life. Here’s to magnificent year for you in 2021!

@andysmountains Andy Gator Lord 🐊 — You’ve changed my life. I’m sitting here and I honestly don’t know how else to put it. You’re hilarious and you’re a ball of sunshine and you have kept this breeder feeling rooted to reality (in a great way) and remembering how to smile during some of the shittiest times I can remember. Newts. You’ve helped me explore my identity, and I’m not sure what greater gift you could have given me. Also, I’ve never heard true love whispered more sincerely than when I see 🔪—and I would give you nine hundred and ninety-seven 🔪 now if not for the fact that you have literally beat me to it.

@ceratonia-siliqua Cera — We’ve shared so much. I feel so privileged that you’ve picked me to be a person that you want to talk to during hard times because you’re such a special guy, and because you’ve got talent that the world needs to see forever and ever and ever (I continue to blown away by what you did in Sunshine, and none of us are ready for Quilt Fic™) and I hope you never stop writing your whole damn heart out. I truly love you. I do. Thank you for reminding me that there is endless humanity and prose in this world.

@howdoyousleep3 K — I feel like 2021 couldn’t be starting off better now that you’re in my life again. Last year was largely defined for me by the time I spent with you, and I’ve truly been changed by you and your writing. You are an endless amount of inspiration for me and this whole community; I would bet real money that the number of Daddy Kink converts that owe their new *interest* to finding your Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes series numbers in the hundreds (not to mention your other AUs). But fics aside, I had so many smiles and laughter throughout 2020 because of you, and I owe such a big part of my happy heart to you and your presence in my life. You have a huge, caring heart. Cheers to Cevans continuing to be a giant, bro-ish man slut and us never stopping giving him shit for it — and here’s to Trucker Bucky and his bug.

@lullabybeauty Bee — I’m not sure I would still be writing if it weren’t for you. The interest you took in my fics and endless support you’ve provided have turned me into a real-life 🥺🥺🥺 face so many times I can’t count them. But more than the hype you provide, you are an amazing person, and I hope you never stop putting (and ceaselessly keeping) the word out in our community through your blog that Black Lives Matter and black women matter now and forever; it’s far too easy for those of us who are white to let that truth fade from our minds when there’s not something terrible happening in the news, and I’m so thankful for your posts filling up my dash with reminders I need to be a good ally and giving me information to share with others. Thank you for the gift of yourself.

@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore Caroline—You sort of swooped out of nowhere for me and boosted my confidence through the roof. Your comments and your hype and your hilarious tags remind me every day that writers are only half of the fanfiction equation; all we do without supportive friends like you is sit in the corner dreaming of stories we don’t have the confidence or feel-good to put to words. Thank you for your constant support and for being so. damn. cool.

@littlesurfergrl Heather—Oh, Heather. Queen of the A+ tags. Sender of inbox updates about what time you get off of work and why you’re vibrating to read a fic. All-around beautiful person. Your love and support is magic in my veins.

@hoeforthegays Baby J—I am so damn excited for this creative project you’ve taken on; you are so talented. I look forward to our thirst talks all the time. You make me laugh with your screaming and even your advice. Such a source of sunshine in my life.

@capbvckyrogers / @tae-withsuga Cam — You were the first person who ever reblogged a farmer daddy post. You were the first person who ever sent me a prompt. Honestly, you were the first person who ever bonded with me over a character. There zero (0) chance I would have enjoyed fandom (or certainly any kind of creative success) the way that I did in 2020 if not for you. Thank you, endlessly.

@justice-for-plums Kenz — Another “late in the year” friendship find that I am so grateful for. I love our talks! I am so thankful you felt comfortable to reach out and talk about writing. Our workshopping has helped remind me of what works and what doesn’t for me, and I love the creative collaboration on head canons! Excited for more in 2021.

Shrunkyclunks Bitches®, or those not mentioned already above: @dreadlockholiday (co-founder of the Bitches® with @justice-for-plums and #1 reason I blushed last year), @oh-i-swear-writes @wayward-lives @allegedlyann and others I either am missing on tumblr or forgetting (but not because I don’t love you) — Here’s to Cap Steve and modern Bucky and 1,000,000+ words written during our writing sprints in 2021. [Bitches® server membership is open by the way! If you love Shrunkyclunks, contact Dready @dreadlockholiday].

And to the endless list of others who made me smile, laugh, sometimes cry, feel proud, but always feel that incredible Stucky love — a list that includes but is certainly not limited to @fishcustardandclintbarton, @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier, @willbakewithstucky, @hannah-stagram, @thewaythatwerust, @bigbraiiin, @musette22, @luninosity, @fandomfluffandfuck, @maddiewritesstucky, @hbalbat, @doctorenterprise, @epicstuckyficrecs, @k347 and the massive important people I know I am forgetting (...like some BIG ones)

To everyone above and anyone else who has scrolled this far:

Thank you.

Let’s all have a fantastic 2021 🥂

#thank you post

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stones-x-bones · 3 years

Text

It’s Only Blood (Night 1 Cont.) || Mina and Bex

TIMING: Current (continuation of this) PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween SUMMARY: The eye of the storm. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, References to child abuse

For a moment, Mina allowed her nails to change again, growing sharp and dangerous. She’d never been taught to use them as weapons, but they’d honestly served her better than any knife. They’d ripped the head off of a harpy well enough. “I make a piss poor sword,” she said, lightly. She hadn’t been a good weapon, too anxious, too afraid, too cautious. But she’d put her body in between enough people and danger to know that she made a damn good shield. As much as she could, anyway. She made the claws go away, the effort not as bad as it had been before. “I hate them for hurting you, and I hate them for making you go back to them,” she murmured. Not even for herself. She couldn’t care less about herself. But anywhere was better for Bex than being with her parents. She’d prefer her to stay with the Youtuber, Eddie. Anyone but her parents. Mina tasted blood at Bex’s words. She’d bitten into the inside of her cheeks. “I--” Of course she loved Bex. It was a fact of life. Pi was infinite, music sounded best when it was played by someone who was passionate about it, and Mina loved Bex. And Bex loved Mina because it didn’t matter if Bex could lie. She wouldn’t lie to Mina. Not about this. Not about something that hurt so much. “I love you, too. So much. It’s like a hole in me. But I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t get rid of-- If I could make it easier for you, I would. I will. Please tell me how. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave town if you want. I won’t come back. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean selfish that way,” Bex said. They weren’t selfish because they wanted more for themselves, or because they wanted to keep things for themselves. They weren’t selfish in the way small children who refused to share were, or old businessmen who hoarded their wealth were. They were selfish because they chose their fear over everyone else. They were selfish because they hid themselves away, afraid that any gentle touch or voice was just a lie. Bex turned her head to look over at Mina on the couch. Thunder shook the cabin and lightning momentarily lit up the inside. Bex used to be afraid of thunderstorms, as a child. But the one time she’d tried to find comfort in her parents, she’d learned the lesson quick that she was alone in life, that she had to deal with her fears alone, and that’s when her closet, and the shoes on the floor, and the small hidden space behind the shelf, had become her sanctuary. Fear had always meant safety. “You’re not greedy or mean or anything like that. I just mean...you’d rather hide than let someone in. Or run, then let someone hold you. It’s the kind of selfish that keeps you safe. The kind of selfish that comes with being afraid of so much. We hide and we keep ourselves to ourself because it’s easier and it’s familiar...and it’s selfish.”

Bex looked out the window and squinted into the dark, wondering if she might see Frank’s shadowed form waiting for them just outside. But all there was were trees and rain and dark. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, “I’ve been afraid for so long. I don’t even know what life would be like without. I thought leaving them would make me less scared, but it didn’t. I thought going home would make all of this stop happening, but it didn’t. I don’t know what to do anymore. All my life all I wanted was the chance to make my own choices and now I’ve made all the wrong ones and I don’t know what to do.”

Her eyes drew down as Mina’s hands turned to webbed claws again. “Swords aren’t the only tools,” she said back quietly. She turned herself so that her shoulder was against the couch and she could look at Mina more fully, before she slipped her hand out from under the blanket and prodded at Mina’s fingers, still clawed. They turned back to her human looking ones and Bex turned her hand palm up to let Mina’s fingers rest there. She hated her parents, too, she realized. As desperately as she wanted her mother’s love, she hated her for it. She hated how much she ached for just one iota of love from her. Just one real moment where her mother would look at her and see her and love her. It would never happen, but still Bex wished for it. She hated Mina’s dad for making her feel the same. She knew Mina felt the same. The lengths they would go to to convince themselves of a parents’ poisoned love was too big. “Please don’t leave,” was all she said, and she blinked as a tear fell from her chin. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Is that not self preservation as opposed to selfishness?” Mina asked. Maybe there wasn’t a difference. Maybe it was selfish to want to guard one’s heart, one’s mind. Mina didn’t know. It did feel selfish, sometimes, when she knew that Morgan needed her but she just couldn’t make herself go home. “Sometimes it’s just-- it just seems like it’s for the best, to run or leave or take care of myself. I don’t want to bother other people.” And she didn’t. Her whole life, Mina was taught to not be a burden. She walked on broken bones, she found her own shelter, she taught herself. If she needed something, she figured out a way to get it for herself, and if she wanted something… she figured out just how desperately she wanted it, if it was worth it. And it hadn’t always been hard; she’d been given nice things, but she knew to provide for herself first if she wanted to be provided for. That’s just how life was. “I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I wish I could help you. I would, if I could.” If you’d let me.

“I know they’re not. There’s also knives and crossbows and guns and…” she trailed off, and she’d almost been joking, but not really. She wasn’t raised to be a tool. She was raised to be a weapon. Whatever Bex’s parents had wanted her to become, whatever tool they were attempting to shape her into, it probably wasn’t a weapon. She put her trembling hand in Bex’s palm and, before she could think about it too much, she let the webbing reform between her fingers, even if she kept the claws away. She felt exposed in ways that she hadn’t, even though there were plenty of people that had seen this. But it was Bex, and she wanted to prove that she trusted her. She didn’t think that Bex would shy away, not in the way that Mina would have shied away from herself. “I won’t leave unless you tell me to. I won’t. You’d-- You’d have to give me a few days, regardless. I don’t think I’ll be traveling in the immediate future.”

“I don’t know the difference,” Bex admitted. And truly, she didn’t. Her parents called her selfish for wanting something more. They called her cruel for not giving them what they wanted. They told her she was selfish because she couldn’t be the way they wanted her to be. She’d believed them, she still did. She’d started to wonder, to change, but she still believed them. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” She was still angry, but her weary body had stopped gathering up enough energy to be that way. She laid her head on the side of the couch. Mina still needed to be stitched up, she needed to check the pots outside, and go down to the boathouse to check for buckets before it stopped raining. She should check the level of the basin outside, maybe there was enough to fill the tub halfway. Mina could soak and they could try again in a bit. There was still so much to do, she had to keep going. But her body wouldn’t let her move. She closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re not a bother, Mina,” she said absently, “I can’t think of one situation where you were ever bothering anyone. Morgan agrees, I think even Deirdre would agree. And Rio, he likes you, too. He said you’re a good person and a good fighter. And Nell. She likes you. You guys both really like knives, too. I think Nell likes talking to you.” The words were partially slurred and Bex remembered the bottle next to the couch. She wondered what it might be. “Even Adam seems to like you. You’re not a bother.” But being taught to be small and not a burden or a bother was just another thing Bex understood too well, too.

“People,” Bex added on to Mina’s list. Money, wealth, power. Influence. They were on opposite sides again. Where Mina was raised with metal and blood, Bex was raised with smoke and shadow. “Whatever you did while with your dad was never your fault,” she mumbled absently. She opened her eyes when she felt Mina’s hand shift again. “You just wanted him to love you. You’d do anything if he just told you he loved you.” Why were parents so cruel? She smothered Mina’s hand with her own and ran her fingers along the silvery scales on the back of her hands. “I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t drag your unconscious body miles through the forest in the rain just so you could leave.” She scooted a little closer, close enough to bring Mina’s hands up to her lips. Her skin was cool. “I want to stay with you.” She said, barely audible. The fire crackled, the rain poured, but her voice could still be heard. She wanted to stay, but they weren’t people who got things they wanted.

“I don’t either,” Mina said. Perhaps the difference had been that Bex had been taught to believe in selfishness whereas Mina had only known self preservation. She only knew how to take care of herself. She didn’t know how to lean on other people. Even in the field, she’d still had to watch her own back. It was nice being in White Crest because she didn’t have to perpetually be on guard, but old habits didn’t go gently; even with Adam in the portal, even with her plans to make sure he got out no matter what, there’d been a part of her that still didn’t know if he would have her back the way she had his. She picked at the hole she’d made in the couch, unsure of what to say. She felt like a burden, just like she didn’t feel like a person. It wasn’t about anyone else, not really. It was about her and how she saw herself, and maybe it was wrong, and maybe she was wrong, but that didn’t change anything. She could be told that all day long and there would always be a part of her that still wouldn’t believe it. Instead of commenting on it, she said, “You need rest.” She could probably make room on the couch for both of them. Bex was injured, too, and Mina didn’t forget about that. Falling asleep on the floor wasn’t going to do her any favors.

“People,” Mina echoed. People could be tools, too. She could be a person. She was a person. She reminded herself of it again and again until it almost felt real. “I don’t think that’s true. I still did it. I’m still accountable. I wasn’t always a child. I was never really a child.” She knew what she was doing, even if she hadn’t. She’d always felt that it was wrong. She should have known that it was wrong. “He could have changed.” She was just repeating what she’d said in her dream, what she told herself all the time. “He wasn’t given a chance.” And how could he have been, when his upbringing had probably been something similar to her own? He didn’t talk about the way he was raised, but Mina could only assume. “Then I won’t leave.” She flinched a bit, though. “I tried to stay awake. I just-- I couldn’t, and I couldn’t hear what you were saying even though I know you were talking. But I did try.” She wished she’d been able to try harder. “That’s good. I don’t-- I don’t want you trying to get out in this.” And, more importantly, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Then, maybe, there wasn’t a difference. Bex didn’t know. Mina didn’t either. She wished she could ask Morgan. She wished there was someone else here, helping. They’d know what to do. Bex didn’t know what to do and she was so tired and Mina was ignoring her again. Ignoring some of the things she was saying. She furrowed her brow. She couldn’t make Mina understand that anymore than someone could make her. In the end, it had to be them to make the decision to feel that way. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Bex understood what conditioning was, she’d read about it so much. She knew it’s what her own parents had done. So of course it’s what Mina’s father had done to her. Maybe worse. Mina thought she was nothing more than a killing machine, something made to destroy. She wished she could show Mina that she could heal, too. That she could create. That she had life in her touch. Bex drew in a breath. “I’m fine,” she said, “I slept a little earlier. There’s still things to do. And the fire--” she turned to look back over at it, and it was dwindling, its heat disappearing before she could feel it. “The fire needs tending. And I can’t sleep if-- in case he comes back.” She wouldn’t let him just come trudging in here and kill them both.

“You were a child,” Bex said, a bit harshly. She had been a child, too. “Whether or not you actually got to be one, you were a child.” It didn’t matter how many times Mina tried to excuse him, she would never let her get away with thinking what he’d done was okay. If what her parents was doing wasn’t okay, then nothing Mina’s father had done was, either. It was worse. He had taken a child and made her hate herself and her species and made her feel less than a person and used her to kill other people. So much so Mina thought it was her own fault. “I’d never put that on you. I don’t think any of that was on you.” But what did she know? She wasn’t really a part of this world. She wasn’t a part of Mina’s world. “He doesn’t deserve a chance.” She said darkly. Her parents didn’t deserve a chance, either, but she was giving them one, wasn’t she? She was a hypocrite, but she knew that already. She moved her hand from Mina’s and pushed herself up with a great effort. There were things to do. Maybe she could find a real bed for Mina. She looked down at her, eyes soft. “I’m not leaving you.” Not right now, at least. “It’s okay, Mina. You were--” dying, so close to dying. She had practically been dead in her arms and Bex couldn’t forget what it looked like. “It’s okay now.”

“You’re not fine.” Mina frowned, looking Bex over. “You’re only doing marginally better than I am, actually.” She sighed. “If you get any water, save what you boil and clean for yourself. The only water that’s harmful to me is saltwater. My body could use a puddle to heal, at this point.” And she didn’t want to say that she’d done that before, years ago when she’d had a cut on the bottom of her foot and hadn’t been able to find water for kilometers in any direction. “You need to drink more than,” she glanced at the bottle, the strong scent of alcohol reaching her even from a distance, “that.” She looked at the door, almost expecting Frank to be conjured into existence, but he didn’t show. She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming back tonight. He expected me to die, when he left. If he comes back, it won’t be until tomorrow to retrieve my body. Now that he knows what I am, he might even wait longer if he thinks that the rain will keep me alive.” He didn’t expect anyone to come for her, and he’d wanted her to suffer. That’s why he’d taken the knife out. He hadn’t wanted the iron to kill her; he’d wanted her to bleed out. But she hadn’t, and he’d made a mistake, not watching her die. Mina was going to kill him. She was going to kill him.

“I was… It doesn’t matter, not anymore.” But Mina didn’t think that children were brought up to think the way she had. She didn’t think she’d ever been a child. She didn’t know if she would have been a child even without her dad. Her mother might have made her into something much, much worse. “I still… I think about it all, a lot. Morgan asked me, once, how the hunters I grew up with would have treated her, and… they’d have tried to kill her. They wouldn’t have hesitated. I did because I knew her before. I did because I’ve never been able to kill anyone.” And that made her weak, so weak, but she couldn’t regret it. She couldn’t. Not if it meant that she got to know Bex. Not if it meant that Bex didn’t see her as a monster. She remembered the relief, from her dream, when the blood had faded away and Bex seemed to realize that none of it was real. Mina didn’t know what Bex would think of her if she’d actually killed someone with her own hands. (The little voice in her head reminded her that she was going to kill Frank. She was going to. She was going to. If he walked in right then, she’d have given it her damnedest, regardless of her injuries.) She looked down, and maybe she understood why Bex hated her dad so much. Maybe they were both destined to hate each other’s parents. “He-- He’s dead now. It doesn’t matter.” She reached for Bex’s hand even as she stood up and pulled away, and she couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice as she just said, “Bex, please.”

“I’m doing much better than you, actually,” Bex pointed out. But only because Mina had been nearly dead, so close to dead, so close to dying. Bex hadn’t actually made it in time. If it hadn’t rained, Mina would have died. Bex choked on the thought. “Don’t. Don’t-- stop. Please don’t talk about him, I can’t-- I don’t want to--” think about him, talk about him, anything about him. Even if her mind still tried to bring him back to the forefront every time she glanced at the door, she needed to not think about him. About what he’d done to her, about how close he’d come to killing Mina. About what he might do next. She swallowed. “I just want to-- focus on you. On getting you better.” She gave a little laugh, and it didn’t sound or feel as hollow somehow. “There’s a boat out front full of water. I used it to drag you up to the house with all the supplies.” She was reminded of the pots again, and she went to move, but her body gave out and she stumbled to her knees, shaking. She didn’t want to think about Mina dying anymore, she didn’t want to think about Frank trying to kill her. She didn’t want to think about it all being her fault. She wanted to go back to yelling. Or maybe just talking. Or maybe she could get away with just sitting with Mina in silence. Or maybe drinking. Her eyes went back to the bottle. “I need to go get more water.”

She lifted her gaze to look at Mina again. “It does matter,” she said, “but..we can not talk about it anymore.” She didn’t really want to talk about any of it anymore. She didn’t know how she’d feel in the morning, but maybe things would sort themselves out. There was still so much to talk about. She had to keep going. She lifted herself back up. “Not killing someone doesn’t make you weak. I think, in the face of what you were made to be and how you were treated-- I think that makes you stronger.” It certainly made her a better person. Not that Bex would have thought less of Mina had she killed as a child. It wasn’t her fault. She was a child who had been tainted. She moved away from her but stopped, chewing on her lip. “I’ll just-- I'll be right back. I pro--” she paused. It was such a simple thing to promise, but it made her tongue taste sour. “I’ll be right back.” And she pushed out the front door again. She left it open so Mina could watch her, shaking with such an exhausted tremor, water spilled over the edges of the pot. She made it close enough to the fire before collapsing, setting the pot inside it before throwing another log on. “I can see if there’s enough water in the basin to fill the bath, if you need.” She turned to look back towards Mina. She looked so tired. “We still need to stitch your side up.” She prodded her own side. “And...maybe mine.” Definitely hers too.

“Much better is a stretch. Though, to be fair, I’m only doing marginally better than a corpse,” Mina said, and she flinched a bit. “I’m sorry. That was morbid. And I don’t particularly want to talk about it, either, but I’ve lost a lot of the control over what I say, recently. I-- I lied, too much, and now I have a hard time shutting up. But we don’t have to talk about that. We can talk about anything else.” Whatever Bex wanted to. Mina was willing to do whatever. “You… dragged me up here in a boat? I-- Wasn’t that heavy? How? Where did the boat come from?” She looked around them again, still trying to figure out where they were. The house was small, smaller than her own near the lake, and dingy with disuse. She couldn’t help but feel impressed that Bex had managed to drag both her and a boat up to it, as well as getting Mina inside and on the couch. She reached out when Bex buckled in on herself, but Mina was useless. “Bex!” She worried the inside of her cheek with her teeth, trying to figure out what to do. “You’re exhausted. Please, just-- You need to rest, too. You’ll be no good to either of us if you pass out.”

Mina took a breath and looked away. “Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It didn’t matter. She didn’t think that it mattered. It had happened. There was no getting that time back. There would never be any sort of reclaiming of childhood, no rediscovery of her inner kid. Such things didn’t happen; such things didn’t exist. “It-- I’m glad I didn’t. Kill anyone. I’m glad. But it would have made things easier. I would have had an easier time when I was younger if I’d proven myself more.” She might have gotten nicer things, more rewards for doing her duty. Of course, there would have also been satisfaction in herself over the fact that she’d done what she was trained to, that she’d been good. She would have been more than a monster; she would have been a monster that slayed other monsters. She watched Bex go. “Just-- please be careful.” She didn’t care that Bex wasn’t going far. She just wanted her to be careful. There was nothing she wanted more than to help Bex, and she was so frustrated at how useless she felt. She was tired and in pain and useless, and she almost wished she had that jar of pain reliever that Nell had given her when she cracked her ribs. The thought of resting in a bathtub sounded lovely. “I’m fine with whatever. I probably just need to soak my leg and my side. After the stitches.” She sighed, knowing that Bex wasn’t going to let her do them herself. “I can help with yours if you’d like, after we do mine.”

Bex winced at the analogy. “You’re not a corpse,” she said in a low voice. She’d made it in time and Mina wasn’t dead which meant Mina wasn’t a corpse because Bex had made it in time. She’d made it in time and that was all that had mattered. She’d kept going, beyond the point of exhaustion, and something inside of her had pushed her more and further, and she’d made it. Adrenaline and her magic had left her empty, drained from all the things she’d used it for to get here. “There was a boat house, down by the dock. By the-- we’re by a little lake. I don’t know where. There’s no trail signs or anything.” She moved the pot to sit on top of the fire, watching the pot turn red hot from it. “I couldn’t carry you anymore. And I needed to find supplies. I couldn’t carry you and supplies. So I dumped it all in an old, wooden boat-- more like a...canoe, like those wooden boats they let you take out on the lake at the Cryptid Corner-- and dragged it up here by the tie rope. I don’t have a lot of life experience, but I’ve read enough books about what to do when you’re lost in the woods that I knew what to look for, I guess.” She licked her lips and looked back at Mina. “Magic helped, too.” She’d seen Nell use her magic to make herself momentarily stronger, and she’d read the spell on how to do it several times in one of the books. Maybe it was books that had saved her life.

She ignored Mina’s pleas for her to rest. She couldn’t rest yet. She wondered what time it was, but the only clock in the house-- an old analog that looked older than the cabin, even-- wasn’t working. Had probably stopped working long ago. “Don’t thank me,” she murmured, scooting over back towards the couch after she’d gathered up the medical supplies. She didn’t make any comment on how Mina felt about her childhood. She couldn’t understand that decision. She couldn’t understand wanting to add more hurt to the world when it hurt so much already. Even if that’s what a parent wanted, she could never do it. That was the one line she’d always drawn with her parents-- she would do no harm. She didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. She wanted to kill Frank. Blinking, she looked up at Mina on the couch. Her thoughts had made her mind drift for a moment and she needed to concentrate. Her eyes dropped to the bottle next to her foot and she made to grab for it before pausing. She needed to be clear headed for this. Drawing in a breath, she looked up at Mina again. “I’ll fill the tub and hope there’s enough water in the basin to reach your side. The tub is a little small, but it’s better than nothing.” The bathroom was small, too, but there was room between the built-in sink and the tub for Bex to sit or lay. She started unraveling the thread that was already hooked through the needle. There wasn’t much. Her eyes went to Mina’s side, the gash that was hidden underneath old, poorly applied bandages. God, she really was exhausted. They’d have to do this before Bex really did pass out. “Only if there’s enough thread,” she mumbled and reached forward, beginning to pry the bandages gently away from Mina’s side. She shook as she touched her, conscious, for the first time, or her fingers grazing Mina’s skin. It’d been so long since she’d touched her. She bit her cheek and kept going. “I don’t...there’s nothing for the pain,” she said, her voice worried. “This is probably gonna hurt. More.”

“No, I’m not. Because of you. I’m not.” Mina didn’t think she’d ever truly get over this, even after she healed. She’d never get over Bex doing this for her. She’d never really understand it, either. But, then again, wouldn’t she do the same for Bex? Wouldn’t she do more? Wouldn’t she tear cities and walls and people for the girl in front of her? Wasn��t she already planning to kill the boy that put her in this position, even if it wasn’t for herself (especially if it wasn’t for herself)? This was love, and it was painful, but somehow it was what the two of them had, wretched and awful as it was. If Mina could, she’d take it away from Bex. It was hurting her. The last thing Mina ever wanted to do was hurt her. “Well, knowledge is power. I think we’d both be in considerably worse shape if you didn’t know what you know.” And there was something like pride in her voice. Bex had managed to do all of this, on her own, with no prior experience. Sure, magic helped, but magic was an innate part of who Bex was. Of course she’d been able to utilize it to help herself.

“Sorry,” she said, more of a reflex than anything. She stayed still as Bex checked everything, her fingers trembling as she touched Mina’s skin. She was so close. Mina just wanted to reach out and hold her. That was it. She just wanted to hold her. The featherlight touches were a good confirmation that she was alive, though. That this was real. She’d known it was. Of course she’d known it was. Still. It was nice to be sure. “As long as there are stitches and I can cover my side up with a towel or something, all that matters is that we soak my leg.” She was going to have to reset it in the morning, something she wasn’t looking forward to at all. “It’s definitely going to hurt, yes,” Mina said, unable to sugar coat the situation even if she did keep her voice soothing. “But I’m not going to move while you do it, so it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry about hurting me, and don’t worry about making the stitches pretty; just make them functional. Have you read up on how to do a continuous suture? That’s what you’re going to try and do here.” She looked at the bottle that Bex had been reading for. “And maybe let me have some of that, please.” She wouldn’t drink much, but it might help a little.

“You wouldn’t have been hurt, either, if it weren’t for me,” Bex mumbled off-hand. This was her fault. In every sense of the word. Frank would have no reason to go after Mina if it weren’t for her. He’d never even have met Mina, probably. And then, when they’d had him, Bex had made Nell let him go. And then, when he was clearly running rampant, stabbing people, she still hadn’t told anyone. This was all her fault. She felt her cheeks growing wet again and she had to stop for a moment, wiping at them. “I should’ve let Nell kill him,” she whispered. Mina would be dead if Bex hadn’t been able to do what she’d done. She hadn’t known she was capable of doing what she’d done, but she had. Some deep desperation inside of her had pushed her to be able to do what she’d done. Still, her mind toyed with what ifs. What if she hadn’t even made it to Mina in time? What if she hadn’t been able to get her out of the trap? What if she hadn’t been able to carry her for so long? What if when she’d fallen down the hill, she’d lost Mina? What if she’d never been able to find water? What if, what if what if? If Bex hadn’t been a part of her life, none of this would have even happened.

She needed to listen. Mina was explaining how to do the stitches and Bex needed to listen. But it was hard. She was crying-- sobbing, really-- and she couldn’t listen. They didn’t need to be pretty and they didn’t need to be good, they just needed to be there enough to hold Mina together. She looked at the wound in her side and remembered how painful the knife had felt sliding into her own side. How much more painful it had been coming out. How it had torn at her insides. How the doctor’s had looked at the wound in worry, and the mangled muscle, and how Bex was looking at Mina’s now and it was so much worse. Bex felt her heart gurgling in her throat. “I'm so sorry,” she murmured, and she reached out absently for one of Mina’s hands and squeezed it as she buried her face in the side of the couch. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” She needed to keep going, but her body suddenly had other plans. It had stopped moving and it was really all she could do to not let her sobs grow too loud, repeating the apology like a mantra. Like maybe it might make everything magically better. If only, if only.

Mina started shushing Bex gently. “Hush. If not him, I’m sure I would have run into someone else. And a lot sooner, too.” Hers was never supposed to be a long life, not with the way that she was raised. Mina knew that. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago. Her dad hadn’t made it to fifty. She’d always thought that thirty would be her cap. “Something like this would have happened regardless. It’s not your fault. It’s not.” Honestly, if she’d encountered Frank without Bex around, he still would have tried to kill her. He might have not been as vindictive, as vengeful about it, but he would have still gone for her. She was a threat. She was something to be disposed of, and he probably would have gotten rid of her in that alley behind the theater if Bex hadn’t intervened. Mina shook her head. “You were standing by your beliefs. That’s what mattered. It’s not on you. It’s not.” And even though Mina wanted to kill Frank, she was glad that the decision for his death wasn’t going to weigh on Bex. That was going to be Mina. Because she was going to kill him. She was going to kill him. If there wasn’t anything else to keep her going after this, then that would.

“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t. You don’t.” She squeezed Bex’s hand and used her other to slowly brush it through Bex’s hair. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t tell him to stab me. This isn’t on you. It’s not. It’s not.” She took the needle and thread out of Bex’s hand and set it down before she put her hand on Bex’s cheek and nudged her to look at her. They weren’t going to be working on this any time soon. There was no way that they could, anyway. She’d tend to her injuries, later, if she had to, if Bex fell asleep. She’d wake her if she needed to stitch her up as well. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for any of this. I don’t. Please, Bex, I don’t.” She didn’t want Bex to cry. She didn’t want them to have to do this. She wished that Bex was somewhere safe. She wished that Bex wasn’t hurting like this. That was Mina’s fault. She was the one that should be apologizing.

It wasn’t a comfort to know that someone else could’ve-- would’ve-- done this to Mina. Bex felt a strange fury building inside of her. She hated the unfairness of it all. Why was it okay for people to run around killing other people? Why was she so powerless to help Mina? She’d gotten there too late. She could’ve stopped Frank if she’d just told someone. If she’d just tried to do something. If she wasn’t such a coward. If she had just let Nell kill him. If she had just-- if she had just. There were too many. “That doesn’t really make me feel better, you know,” she sniffled, trying to keep the quiet rage out of her voice, “and this time-- this boy-- it is my fault. I had so many chances to listen to someone and to stop him and I--” she squeezed tighter before remembering Mina’s condition and trying to relax her grip. She’d never felt so angry before. It reminded her of her mother’s anger. She didn’t want this anger, but how was she supposed to get rid of it without being just like her? Bex tried to swallow the rage and the tears and she choked on them. “My stupid beliefs keep getting people hurt,” she croaked, “maybe I need to...rethink them.” She wished she wasn’t such a coward.

Bex shook her head. “It is! I do! I have to because it’s-- it’s my fault! It is! And not just because-- not just because I stopped him from dying. But because-- my mom-- my parents--” she stuttered and felt the words catch in her throat. Mina’s hand on her cheek felt so warm it almost burned. She shouldn’t have this, she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a happiness like the one she knew Mina could give her. She turned her face away. “You should. You should. If you’d never met me, none of this would’ve happened. None of it. And I--” she watched Mina set the suture aside and tried to bring a focus back to her mind, but she couldn’t. She was so tired. She needed to sleep. “I need to fix this. I can do this. I can, I--” her body shuddered when she tried to breathe in and she could feel her chest seizing up. No, fuck, no, she couldn’t have a panic attack right now. No. Mina needed her. Mina needed her to be here and be present and make sure neither of them died in this stupid, dingy, abandoned cabin. She held her breath and closed her eyes and realized all she really wanted to do right now was wrap herself up in Mina’s arms. “This was all supposed to stop when I went back, and it hasn’t and I don’t know-- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Mina said again. Again and again and again, it seemed like sorry was all that she could say. “I know it’s not reassuring, but it’s the truth. It’s-- That’s how my life is.” She shook her head. “But no, this boy is not your fault. You don’t control his actions. You didn’t make him attack me. You didn’t make him do anything. That’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” She squeezed Bex’s hand back, enough to let her know that she was still there. Enough to let her know that she still could. She was only still alive because of Bex. That was it. She was the reason. And Frank might have found another time, another place to kill her whether Bex was involved or not. “You can’t control other people’s actions, Bex. It’s just not possible. And your beliefs had nothing to do with it. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. It’s not your fault he was a disappointment.”

Bex turned her head, but Mina pulled it back towards her. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated. “You’re not responsible for him. You’re not responsible for your parents. This isn’t on you. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t do this.” She stroked Bex’s face with her fingers, keeping the gesture soothing, simple. “If I’d never met you, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be genuinely happy. I mean, I’d been happy before knowing you. Only recently, really, mostly because of this place, but I have known genuine happiness because of you. Even right now, I’m-- there’s a part of me that’s okay because you’re here, and I hate that, and I hate that this is what’s happening right now, but I am glad you’re here, even if I wish you were somewhere safe.” She watched as Bex started to panic, and she felt her own. She sat up even more and made room, trying to get Bex closer to her on the couch. “Hey, hey, it’s-- Breathe, please. Just breathe. Let’s just breathe, okay?” She exaggerated her own breathing, making a show of doing it, even as it made her side hurt. “It’s okay. It’s okay to not know. It’s okay.”

“He almost killed you, Mina!” Bex exhaled. If she’d had more energy, she would’ve yelled it. But she didn’t. “That’s not just-- it’s not disappointing, it’s-- it’s-- if I had just done one thing! Just one thing differently, this wouldn’t have happened. I-- I could’ve talked to him sooner, o-or told him what was going on, or if I’d just gone home sooner or never stayed with Morgan or let Nell kill him or fuck-- done it myself! One thing was all it took. One thing and I couldn’t even do that.” Her chest heaved. Mina was trying to get her to get up onto the couch with her but Bex’s eyes stuck to each of her injuries individually and she tried to pull away, too exhausted to even really fight. She felt her body sink into the couch. She tried not to lean on Mina too much. She didn’t want to hurt her more. She couldn’t hurt her more. Her eyes went to the knife on the table. “It might as well have been me,” she said, “my decisions keep getting people hurt.”

But this wasn’t supposed to be about her. This wasn’t. Mina was still on the fringes of dying. She needed water, she needed medical attention, she needed more than Bex could give her. She tried to stand back up off the couch, legs shaking with such great effort she couldn’t even get them to support her weight as she tried. She tried to breathe in time with Mina, but all she could think about was the pain in her side and how much worse Mina’s must be. “I can’t-- I can’t sit here. I have to-- do something. I have to-- I need to be doing something. I can’t sit here and watch you in so much pain and not do anything.” She was losing it, losing the grip on her focus as the adrenaline began to drain away. It would leave nothing behind. She had no more reserves to pull from. “Please don’t hate me,” she choked out, “please don’t hate me. I-- I ruined it. I ruined your happiness and I’m sorry. I just wanted you-- want you-- so much and it hurts and all I do is cause you pain. I’m sorry.” The words were jumbled, slurred. Her exhaustion felt more like a drunken stupor than any of the ones she’d been in lately. She was still too afraid to touch Mina, to get too close to her, so she wrapped her arms around her own stomach and repeated the words. She just needed to rest a moment. Just a moment. Then she’d be okay. Then she could go back to taking care of things. The rain outside felt like nothing compared to the rain on her face.

“Yes, well, he somehow didn’t.” Despite literally having the perfect opportunity. Mina couldn’t think of a more foolish thing to do. When she killed him, she was going to make sure that Frank was dead. What kind of hunter didn’t know to make sure their quarry was properly killed before claiming victory? She hoped he raged when he found out her body was gone. She hoped he felt panic. She hoped he felt fear. Because she was going to destroy him. She still had a hand to take, after all. But none of that mattered, at the moment. None of it mattered. Not right now. “And it might not have mattered at all. It might be that nothing would change. If you’d gone home sooner, things might have even been worse.” She pulled Bex’s hand to her lips and kissed it softly, though she followed Bex’s eyes to the knife. It was impressive that her blood had managed to cling to it, despite the rain, despite the lake. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t.”

Mina kept her focus on her own breathing, hoping that, if she did, Bex might possibly follow along with her. “If you try to get up right now, you’re going to be of no use to either of us. I’m not going to keel over if you take a few minutes to breathe, okay? I’m not.” Not unless Frank jumped in through the window and decided to finish the job. But he wouldn’t. He was probably gloating over his victory. Mina leaned forward and put her forehead against Bex’s. “I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you. I love you. I don’t hate you. I promise I don’t hate you.” She couldn’t hate Bex if she tried. She would never try. She didn’t want to. “You don’t only cause me pain. You don’t. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. I don’t hate you.” She didn’t know what else to do, what else to say. She couldn’t fix this. She could only hope that Bex would take some time to breathe before she started moving about the cabin again. Honestly, Mina hoped that Bex would just fall asleep. She needed to sleep. Mina could tend to herself as much as possible and then try to rest a bit herself. It probably wouldn’t be wise to go to sleep again. She needed to make sure she made it through the night.

Somehow didn’t make the millions of possibilities floating around Bex’s head quiet any, but the conviction in Mina’s voice made her quiet a moment. Somehow she’d made it in time. Somehow it had rained and helped Mina’s wounds from getting worse. Somehow Bex had found the strength within her to get Mina to water and to safety and to here, on this couch. They were all somehows and there was nothing definitive about it, but here they were. Both barely alive, bleeding on a couch in the middle of the forest, tired and exhausted and pushed beyond their limits. But they were alive. She was alive. Mina was alive. Whatever scenarios Bex wanted to concoct in her head, this was the situation they were currently in, and no amount of speculating or wishing was going to change anything. Frank had tried to kill Mina, but Bex had gotten there in time, and now all they had to do was make sure it stayed that way. She would make sure it stayed this way. Mina’s lips were warm on her knuckles and Bex realized again how cold the house was. Without insulation or a heater, the rain had chilled the entire place to match the temperature outside. Aside from the fire, slowly fading. Bex shivered. ”I won’t let him hurt you again,” she croaked. “I won’t. I’ll kill him if I have to. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.” And she’d do it-- she would. She’d almost killed that Warden for just breaking Mina’s arm. She’d rip apart Frank’s brain memory by memory if he even got near Mina again.

Bex was trying to breathe. Really, she was. It was harder than it looked. But Mina was so close to her now and how could she not be calmed by the other girl’s presence? Even when she could clearly see the pain and worry in her eyes. Her forehead was warm. Maybe too warm. Could Nymphs get fevers? Bex didn’t know. The thought strangled her insides, but her exhausted mind tucked them away for later. She couldn’t freak out about another thing right now. “D-don’t promise me that,” she stuttered out between sobs, “don’t. You should. You should hate me.” She reached out tentatively, placed her palm on Mina’s chest, fingers pressing lightly into her skin. “I broke your heart. I knew what would happen and I still did it. I just wanted to save you. I thought I could spare you the pain. I didn’t know,” she said, drowning in her grief, “I didn’t know I loved you, too. I didn’t understand.” She was so close. She was right there. She shouldn’t do it. Mina was in pain. Mina had nearly died. She was with Eddie. She shouldn’t do it. But Bex couldn’t stop herself. She closed the distance-- the oh so short distance-- and kissed Mina. And she’d craved her so bad. And she remembered how it had felt in her dream and this was better. So much better. This was real. And so she kissed her and she cried and she didn’t know what to do anymore.

“He’s not going to hurt me like this again,” Mina said, her voice quiet and cold. “And he’s never going to hurt you again, either.” He was dead the moment that he told Mina what he’d done, what he planned to do. He died right then. His heart was just still bleeding. The second that she was able, though, she was killing him. And she’d draw it out, and she’d make it slow, and she’d make him suffer, but she wouldn’t leave knowing there was still air being forced into his lungs and a heart pumping blood through his body. Frank had made many mistakes. Mina was smart enough to learn from the mistakes of others, sometimes, when she set her mind to it. She pulled the blanket closer around Bex’s shoulders, fighting off her own chill. Her skin was hot, her mouth was slightly parched, but she felt the cool air working its way through her body. “You’re not going to have to kill him. You’re not.” She wouldn’t. That was all on Mina. She wondered if it was the fever that was making her just focus on this or if it was the rage that she still couldn’t get over. He wanted to kill Bex. He was going to die.

“I can promise it because I want to, because it’s true, because it’s never not going to be true. I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you.” She wondered if Bex could feel her heart fluttering under her touch. She wondered if Bex knew it was hers. She had to. She had to. Mina had all but told her. “I’d let you break it again. More than once. A thousand times, I don’t care. I wish you’d let me help you, but I understand why you didn’t, why you don’t. I know how hard it is to rely on other people. It’s okay. It’s okay.” There was a moment when Bex was right there, and Mina could see her move, and her heart might have stopped, just for a moment, but then Bex was kissing her, and, oh, that. She missed that. She missed that so much. Yes, she was a bit in pain, and yes, this probably wasn’t smart, but Mina deepened the kiss a bit more, and maybe it was a little selfish, but she didn’t care, in the moment. This wasn’t self preservation. This was selfishness. She was selfish. She wanted this. She’d been wanting this for so long.

There were things that needed doing. The fire was dwindling, the pots outside needed to be pulled in and dumped somewhere to store the water and refilled, the bed needed to be checked. Mina needed tending still, her wounds were so raw. Bex needed to check the basin and see if there was enough water for Mina to soak in. She needed to look for some sort of food. She needed to drink water. They needed to rest, to sleep. They needed to talk about so much more. But, instead, she just kissed her. She just kissed Mina because fuck she’d been wanting to kiss her for so long now. For weeks now. Her hands went up to hold Mina’s face so she could kiss her better, kiss her more. There was a pain in her side as she twisted to get closer, but she didn’t care. She just wanted this. She just wanted to kiss Mina. Even when she had to break away to breathe, all she wanted was to kiss her more. She needed to say something. She just kissed her again instead. What else was there to do? They’d started and now she didn’t want to stop. She shouldn’t have kissed her at all. She didn’t want to stop.

There was so much that needed to be done, but maybe it could wait until tomorrow. Once the rain stopped, it would be easier to portion out the water that would have gathered in the basin. She could dump whatever was left in the boat into the tub, potful by potful, first. Portion out the rest for drinking. Maybe there was a fishing pole down at the shack. Bex didn’t know how to fish. They could re-assess the wounds tomorrow, once Mina had made it through the night and was more stable. There was so much to be done, but it could wait until tomorrow. So Bex just kissed Mina instead, and moved further onto the couch and tried her best not to hurt her or herself but she just wanted to kiss her because it had been so long and she needed it. She needed her. She loved her.

The only thing that Mina was worried about, aside from kissing Bex, was making sure that she didn’t bleed everywhere. Really, nothing else mattered. Not the pain from all the wounds, not the old bruises that still hadn’t healed, not the fact that there was still so much to say. There was still so much to say. Mina wanted to tell Bex what she was. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to try. Just… not right now. Later. They could do it later. She was happy with them doing it later. Literally nothing mattered more than this. Nothing mattered more than pulling Bex as close as she could without injuring her or herself, hands running up and down Bex’s arms, feeling the softness and the heat of her skin. This wasn’t comfortable, by any means. Both of her legs were injured. Her shoulder hurt. Her side was a mess. She was a mess. Bex was a mess. They were both messes, truly. They always had been, when they were together. She’d never minded. She didn’t mind any of it. If anything, she just wanted it more. She’d missed this so much, and it wasn’t like the hole in her chest was healed, not completely, but this made it stop aching as much. That was really all that she could ask for; it was more than she could ask for.

Bex needed to have some semblance of self control. There were so many reasons she needed to have control but she couldn’t remember any of them, because her entire mind was taken up by concentrating on just kissing Mina. And the taste of Mina’s lips and her tongue and the feel of her skin under Bex’s fingertips. The feel of Mina’s hands on her own as she moved them from her arms to her sides, her bare stomach. And if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to lose herself and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. Bex broke away to breath, panting. Her head was pounding, her side was jolting with pain. Her lips felt raw, they were tingling. She leaned in to kiss her again, but managed just enough of herself to restrain, lips just barely grazing Mina’s. “We have to…” she breathed, “we can’t…” They had to what? They couldn’t what? She couldn’t remember. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She kissed her again. Slow, soft. She didn’t want to move. She needed to move. “If we’re not doing...the stitches tonight…” she mumbled against her lips, “we at least need...to get you in some water…” She wondered if Mina would change again. She didn’t wanna think about it. “At least let me do that for you tonight.” It felt like a small plea. She knew she needed to take care of herself as well, but Mina came first. She was dying under her fingertips and Bex needed to do everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen. Neither of them were going to get much sleep tonight, but maybe they could rest. Just a little. They could rest.

“You’re right. You’re right. We have to… We have to…” Mina trailed off, too distracted to remember what they had to do. Because Bex’s lips were on hers, and she could feel Bex’s skin beneath her fingertips, and this was real. This was real. It was painful and wonderful and real. She splayed her fingers over Bex’s heart, feeling it beat. This wasn’t hers. She wasn’t going to get to keep this. It was real, but it wasn’t for her. She wanted it to be. Mina wanted a lot of things. She’d learned to do that, want things, and she’d learned just how useless that was. She wanted to keep kissing Bex. She… wanted to not be hurting. Desperately. She’d really enjoy that. But it wasn’t that important. “If you get me water, you should let me look at your side. Since you can’t heal like me.” It was the least she could do. She wanted to do more. She wished she could, but Mina was all but useless at the moment, and her brain wasn’t working like it was supposed to, and she knew that was only partly from kissing Bex. “I can do that. And you need that more than I do.”

Bex felt her body shudder as Mina’s fingers grazed across her chest, her heart. She wished she could rip it out and give it to Mina. She wanted to give it to Mina. Maybe she already had it, maybe that was why Bex felt cold and empty when she was away from her. Mina had her heart and when she wasn’t around her, she was nothing. She was heartless. It wasn’t fair to Eddie. She needed to tell him. But she needed him, too. She needed him to pretend like her life was normal. She needed him as her shield. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Swallowing, she nodded stiffly. She wanted to keep kissing Mina. “I’ll…” her breath was still thick in her throat. “I’ll fill the tub and you can...look at it in there.” There should’ve been enough water in the basin by now. The rain outside was torrential. She could hear it. And if it wasn’t enough, she would carry in the water in the boat, pot by pot, until the tub was full enough. “Just--” she pulled away, pushing off the couch slowly, “stay here. I’ll be--” her heart hammered. Despite the pain in her side and the tremor in her knees, she leaned down and kissed Mina again, softer this time, slower, a silent promise that she’d be right back. She wasn’t leaving. Not yet.

She stumbled backwards for a few steps before turning to head to the bathroom, supporting herself with walls and doorways as she did. She needed to clear her head, otherwise she was going to turn right back around and go back to that couch and to Mina and to kissing her. She needed to do this first. She sank to her knees near the tub and reached out for the faucet, struggling to even turn the knob with exhaustion pulling at all her muscles. Finally, it broke, and water poured from the spout into the tub. She let out a long sigh of relief as she rest her head on the edge of the tub for a moment, watching the water slowly fill it up. They had water and everything was going to be okay. Greedily, she stuck her hands under the faucet and filled them up with enough water to drink. It soothed the ache in her throat and she wanted more. The pot in the fireplace should’ve been done by now. Standing back up, the tub about half full now, she made her way back out to Mina on the couch. “There’s enough,” she said, coming back over to her and sinking onto the couch, her body deflating. “Just...give me a minute. And I can help you...into the bathroom…”

“I can stay here,” Mina said. “I can do that.” It wasn’t like she could do much else, anyway. Her eyes were still heavily lidded by the time Bex went towards the bathroom. She could have just stayed like that, in a state of waiting and watching and hoping, but she needed to do something to make this easier. She’d need to be able to walk a little bit, to not make Bex have to drag her all the way to the bathroom, but she couldn’t do that when her feet were barely even feet. She moved on the couch, covering her legs with the blanket again, and she started trying to shift the bones in her legs back. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But before Bex got back, they were feet instead of fins, and that was really all that she could ask for. Walking was still going to be a struggle, seeing as how one leg was mangled and the other had been shot, but, at least she’d be able to semi walk to the tub. She curled forward a bit from the pain, some of her wounds starting to sluggishly bleed again. She was running out of blood, though. It was fine.

She felt Bex sit on the couch before she saw her, opening her eyes and glancing at the younger girl, who looked almost as bad as she felt. “Take your time,” Mina murmured, clearing her throat when her voice came out pained. She hadn’t realized how much that would hurt. She didn’t think it was possible to be in more pain, but her body was truly surprising her. “I need a moment, too, before I can try to get up. Even with help.” She put a hand over her side, trying not to flinch at the stickiness that she could feel now that the bandages were gone. It was fine. It was going to be fine. “I think I would be fine with a puddle at this point, if I’m being honest.” And she was. Being honest. She really had no choice but to be.

Bex sat up immediately at the sound of Mina’s pained voice. She looked over and saw old wounds reopening, thick, blackish blood draining from them. “Fuck…” she muttered. They’d gotten distracted, they’d been stupid. Mina was dying this was no time for Bex to have kissed her. How could she have been so stupid? She pushed herself up from the couch, ignoring her exhaustion and the burning pain in her legs as she did so. “This is bad…” They didn’t have nearly enough supplies to take care of both of them. Mina was getting worse. Every moment she wasn’t in the water, she was getting worse. Bex should’ve just stayed in the lake with her. But how was she supposed to know? No one told her. Mina hadn’t told her. She shook the thought away and grabbed the towel, pressing it to Mina’s side in hopes of quelling some of the bleeding while they waited. They couldn’t wait much longer, though. She drew in a breath and tried to find something inside of herself, something had to be left, right? She couldn’t have used it all. Maybe some of it was back by now. “It’s fine,” she said suddenly, “I can-- I’ll carry you.” She’d carried her here, what was a few more feet to the bathroom?

Bex wasn’t particularly strong, but she didn’t need to be. That was one thing Nell had taught her that had stuck the fastest. Even though her specialty was mental magic, there were plenty of practical spells she’d been taught that were easy enough. She hadn’t purposefully practiced magic in so long, and while she knew she’d used some intentionally in order to get Mina here, it wasn’t exactly the same. Control seemed nearly impossible, but she had to try. She had to get Mina into that tub where she was sure, if she did accidentally fall asleep or pass out, Mina wouldn’t die. The water wouldn’t let her. She reached out to touch her arm, wrapping her fingers around her wrist delicately. “You’re getting worse, we have to get you in the water,” she urged. “Just let me do this. I can-- if i get you there, I can rest, too. Okay?”

“It’s not as bad as it was,” Mina said, trying to sound reassuring, but she knew it probably wasn’t working. It was bad. It was really bad. It was bad enough that Mina would be forced to acknowledge it. She’d thought that the wolf, the cliff, the ocean was bad. But none of that had been iron. None of that had burned quite like this. Some things didn’t heal right. There was a reason Mina was covered in scars. She knew pain. She knew iron. But not like this. Still, she gritted her teeth and struggled to put her feet in front of her on the floor. “No. No, I can’t ask you to carry me. You’re exhausted. That’s not fair.” Not when she thought Bex herself was in absolutely no shape to be trying to lift anything, much less Mina. She attempted to stand.

It was a useless endeavor. Mina gritted her teeth as she managed to stand on shaky legs for half a second before she ended up collapsing back to the couch. She hated this. She hated it. She hated being useless. She hated being aware of the fact. It was different, when she wasn’t conscious, when she had no awareness of what was happening. She needed help, then. She knew she needed help. But she wasn’t struggling to stay awake. She was just struggling. She looked at Bex’s fingers around her wrist and then to Bex’s face. Finally, she hung her head. “Okay. Okay. Please help me. But if you start to hurt yourself, stop. Seriously, just put me down if it’s too much. I can probably walk with some support.”

“Hey, stop-- stop it!” Bex tried, but Mina was Mina, and that meant she would try on her own anyway. Bex let her and watched her fall directly back to the couch. They really were two peas in a pod, weren’t they? “I might be exhausted, but I’m not dying. Or bleeding out or covered in--” she swallowed. She absolutely hated seeing Mina like this, it made her blood boil, knowing the boy who’d done it wasn’t far off. Knowing that he probably thought he had been in the right to do this. She tried to not let her anger flare too much. If she was going to use whatever trickle of magic was left in her, she couldn’t waste it on being angry. She couldn’t afford to waste anything right now, and that included brain power arguing with mina. Finally, the other girl relented. Bex nodded and moved herself into position, scooping an arm under her legs and the other around her back. “Just-- hold on. This might...feel weird.” She knew when she used magic it felt weird, but not if having magic used on you was weird.

She tried to picture the rocks she’d dropped off ledges with Nell, how heavy they’d felt in her hands, and how light they’d been a moment later. She poured that intention into lifting Mina, struggling only for a moment before she found her footing. Her arms shook, her legs shook, but she could make it. She could make it. She wanted to hurry but was too afraid to jostle Mina, and too afraid if she went faster than one step at a time, she herself would collapse. She tried not to think about either of those, as she made her way over slowly, arms gripping Mina tightly, like they had in the lake. Like they had when Mina had changed. She made it to the edge of the tub and set Mina down as gently as possible before her legs gave out. The tub faucet had water barely trickling out of it, but it was full enough to submerge her. Bex smiled, tired. “See? I told you I could make it.’

“I’m not dyi—“ Mina choked on the word before she bit her tongue, trying not to scream in frustration. She wasn’t dying. She wasn’t. She wasn’t. But maybe there was a part of her that was still worried about that, worried enough to believe it. She was worried what would happen if she fell asleep, if she lost consciousness for more than a few minutes. She’s never been stabbed like that before, and especially not with cold iron. Mina allowed Bex to maneuver her until she was in the younger girl’s arms, the wound in her shoulder twinging as she wrapped her arms around Bex. Something washed over her, something warm and comforting that made her feel fuzzy around the edges. She sunk into the feeling, burrowing her face is Bex’s neck. “Not weird. It feels nice.” It felt so nice. She almost didn’t think she needed the water as the feeling wrapped around her, soft and caressing and distinctly Bex. It ended when Bex put her down, though.

The relief was instantaneous as the water touched Mina’s skin. She was still in pain, but it was no longer excruciating. She no longer felt like the knife was still inside of her, something she hadn’t even been aware of until the water touched her wounds. She sighed, eyes closing minutely before she opened them again to look at Bex, a smile of her own crooking it’s way onto her mouth. “I didn’t doubt you could. I just… I just didn’t want you to strain yourself.” Scales were breaking out across her skin again, but there was little Mina could do to stop them. She rested her head on the side of the tub instead. “Are you alright?” She asked, concerned at the way that Bex had collapsed. It wasn’t good for her to use that much magic. It wasn’t good for her to stress her body and her mind when she was already injured as well.

Not weird. Nice. Bex clung to the words a little. She hadn’t known what it might feel like for Mina, she was worried it might hurt her as much as it had hurt other people. As much as it hurt herself sometimes. She laid her head on the side of the tub as she watched Mina sink in, the relief palpable on her face. She almost wished there was something as soothing for her to lay in, besides, perhaps, Mina’s arms.

So this was what Mina had meant by fast healing. Bex could almost see the water holding her wounds together, it was strange. The bleeding stopped, the only red from the dried splotches on her side. Bex’s eyes stayed transfixed on whatever piece of Mina she could find that wasn’t covered in red. It was all washing away, hiding beneath silvery scales. She wanted to reach out and touch them again, remembering the feel of them against her arms in the lake. Mina's voice startled her and she looked up, lifting her head. She blinked, let a tired smile fall on her lips. She was too tired to feel upset anymore, even if she still felt like she wanted to yell at Mina. She just wished she’d told her earlier. She wished she’d trusted her enough. She wished for a lot of things, but wishing didn’t change anything. So she just scooted closer, and laid her head against the side of the tub as well, on the outside, looking at Mina. She reached a hand up and brushed it through Mina’s hair gently. “I’ll be okay now,” she murmured, already feeling the fringes of exhaustion pulling at her eyes. Her entire body was deflating now, now that she knew Mina was safe, that Mina wasn’t going to bleed out or keel over. Her job for tonight was done. She could rest, if just for a bit. She knew she needed to assess herself-- there was a dull ache in one of her wrists now, and she distinctly remembered landing on it when they’d fallen, and her head was killing her, there was surely a bruise; and her side, god, her side hurt so much-- but maybe that could just wait until morning. Maybe it all could. She closed her eyes. “I miss you so much.”

It was draining, to feel her body knit together, even if it was slow. Mina knew it was a good thing; she was healing, she was going to probably be fine. It hurt, though. Faster healing didn’t take away the hurt. She was used to pain. Maybe not to this caliber, but she was well acquainted to the feeling of iron slicing through skin. This was just a bit more intense. She was more worried about things becoming numb, blurry. That would make things bad. That’s when they’d need to panic. But for right now, there was just the pain. Mina closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned into Bex’s hand. “Are you sure? It’ll only take a moment. We shouldn’t leave it like that.” She needed to make sure Bex was alright. She needed to make sure Bex was taken care of. At least, she had to do as much as she could like this. She had to. She felt useless. There was nothing Mina hated more than feeling useless, like she couldn’t do anything at all, like she needed help. She didn’t need help. She didn’t. She… did. Desperately. She needed Bex’s help. But that didn’t mean that she wanted this to be one-sided. She couldn’t let this be one-sided. Mina’s eyes stayed closed, though, and she said. “I miss you, too. All the time. Just… Really, all the time.”

Even if Bex wanted to, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to lift herself from this spot anymore. She wasn’t even sure she could go get a blanket, she should’ve brought a blanket with her. Or one of the couch cushions, or something. Anything. Oh, she’d brought the towel in. That would do. She reached over limply and grabbed it, pulling it up over her shoulders as she felt a chill settling in. Once Mina was okay, they could worry about her. She just hoped she could stave off an infection long enough. Her wounds didn’t close like Mina’s could. She swallowed and her mouth felt dry again. She just wanted to sleep. She looked at Mina, her head resting against the side of the tub, so close to her own-- but it was on the other side. Mina was always on the other side from her, wasn’t she? They were just two souls reaching across a line that neither of them understood. If she hadn’t been so dehydrated, she was sure she would’ve teared up at the thought. At her words. She blinked and turned her head down so she didn’t have to look at how painful and sad Mina was. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, so quiet in her throat she’d wondered if she’d even said it at all. Her eyes drifted closed again, and this time, they stayed that way. She didn’t have the energy to fight off sleep anymore.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: mina #it's only blood #child abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #//i"M SORRY THESE ARE SO LONG #and that there's SO MANY #mina

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braindeacl · 3 years

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World Turned Rainbow | Eilidh & Metzli

SETTING: Crest Works Art TIMING: Last night. PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Eilidh and Metzli have some fun in the gallery. WARNINGS: Drug use

Approaching people had been particularly daunting the past few days. Most of the wounds had finally healed, but Metzli still appeared a little worse for wear. Even sporting their favorite suits, they hid away. Keeping to their office, they worked on the new budget they acquired thanks to Bex. Who they had drank blood from, twice now. With a groan, they pushed aside the pestering thoughts and the even more pestering paperwork to talk a walk in the gallery. Today they would greet their patrons as they usually did, today they would start anew.

Hair lively bounced with each clack on the tile floor, welcoming every person they saw in the gallery. There was a new rotation of works, so the place was filled with more people than usual. Some were the artists themselves, and some were intrinsic minds that delved into the art world, seeking to gawk at works they could not create. Maybe even seeking a small escape into the images depicted on canvas and stone alike.

As Metzli made their way to the back of the main gallery, a fair woman caught their eye. She was studying their painting, possibly even admiring it. Their smile grew, making their rounds until they reached her, saving her for last. “Good afternoon,” They greeted her with a smooth and gentle voice, trying to make a good first impression. “I see you’re enjoying my masterpiece. I have another just down that way, but this one is much more special.”

Those walls still pressed against her skin. Clung to Eilidh like a lover’s embrace. But love was not returned. Instead, it was stolen from her; left her hollow. Determined to render her a copy of that underground prison. Or to fill its own cavity. But it was endless and she was finite and could only give up so much before she was nothing. And that nothingness knocked on her door. So, she ran from it. All across town. Filling her mind, her soul, with all it could offer. So the knocking was harder to hear. So the cavern had other things to steal. Mindless wandering led her to the gallery. A first encounter. Not that she wasn’t interested in the arts. She just preferred the creations of nature than to canvas. But it was new. And she needed new. And these walls didn’t cling to her.

And luckily the creations of nature weren’t far. Imitated upon the canvas. From a distance, some could be mistaken for windows. Stuck in time. But close inspections always revealed those telling brushstrokes. Eilidh passed by these frozen windows—peering into days long gone. A stroll through time and space. Until an outlier arose. Less of a window to the world, more like a window to the mind. Though she did wonder the truth of its depiction. A living raven didn’t seem interested in suits, but a decayed one might. Was there one right now, somewhere, enjoying a three-piece? Ponderings stopped with a voice. Like a cool stream after a hot summer’s day. Eyes followed its trajectory—found a matching visage. Peppered with signs of distress, but a delightful visage to look at, all the same. Attention took turns with the creator and the creation, noting how both sported a dashing ensemble. “Oh? ‘Cause you two match?” A chuckle tickled her lips.

“I was going to say it was because you were looking at it, but that response is a thousand times better,” Metzli replied delightedly, their smile growing wider at Eilidh’s witticism. It wasn’t often that someone caught them off guard like that—in such a positive way at least. Upon further inspection of the woman, she was almost certainly a whole foot shorter, but they did have a soft spot for those too small to reach their head. “Beauty and wit, I like that. I’m Metzli Bernal, creator of that painting, and owner of this gallery.” They adjusted the cuffs of their sleeves before clasping their hands behind their back.

“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” They asked, leaning in slightly with an aura of not only attention, but intention. Regardless of whether or not Metzli would strike out once again—because somehow everyone they flirted with was taken—they didn’t care. Finding solace in simple connection and idle prattle was becoming a frequent thing. Something they could get used to, especially if the people of White Crest were all this funny and intriguing.

Beauty and wit! They were certainly obvious in their intentions. It was charming and refreshing, the forthrightness of it all. Burst of a chuckle shot from Eilidh’s mouth, exposing her gapped tooth smile. “Ah, owner! Flirtin’ a common tactic for business reasons? Or’s this personal?” Despite the implied accusation, her tone remained light. A soft jab if assumptions were true, or an open door for following coquetry. The name held a ring of familiarity, though she could not place its source. Not uncommon, this was a small town after all. Metzli grew closer—a slight adjustment in posture, but height resulted in them nearly hovering above. Eilidh leaned in turn, fitting in that space below their head. Keeping those eyes locked upon their own. Held it there, before a finger pressed on their abdomen. “Got a button loose.” When they fell for her trick, that pressing finger switched from abdomen to nose, flicking it. “Bloop.” Something rumbled in her chest, it sounded amused. “Call me Macleod.”

“It certainly can be,” Metzli replied, shrugging and snickering softly. Her gapped smile was endearing, leaving them with a buzzing in their stomach. How strange, they thought to themselves. “But this approach is for personal enrichment. It’s not often that I get a patron with your charm.” It was true. Eilidh’s lightsome approach and attractive features had a pull that was like a moth to a flame.

Falling for the juvenile trick, Metzli returned the laughter and enjoyed Eilidh’s in return. It was only then, when listening to her entertained reaction, that they heard a lack of something. A lack of a heartbeat. The pull grew even stronger, prompting them to continue, “It is an absolute pleasure, Macleod...” Metzli motioned for a handshake, pulling in her death-ridden hand to plant a small kiss to the back of it. “Wait a minute. Macleod. Why does that sound familiar?” They asked, a look of recognition painted on their face. Her name sounded so familiar, but they’d never seen her face before. Wouldn’t be hard to remember. “Have we met?”

A brow quirked in amusement. The charm was thick and loud, and Eilidh let herself be washed up in it. A wonderful distraction. And perhaps a bit of fun for later. “And I don’t often meet someone so blunt.” Especially in this town, a place of many secrets hushed on the wind. She understood the need; took part as well. But it often bled into the personal. This person seemed untouched by it all. Easy to read. At least, that's what she told herself. And she liked what she was reading. Her hand did not feel their lips press—too soft to combat the numbness. But eyes saw the motion, replicated a warmth on the back of her hand when Metzli met it. When head returned upright, she saw that flash of recognition play out in their eyes. Mirrored in her own mind moments prior. “Likely. Small town. Hard to avoid anyone. Got any one-nighters you can’t place a face to?” Spoken in jest, though that exact situation had occurred to her in the past. Blink. Something stirred in the back of her mind. A something that would solve the puzzle, and she knew it would, and it knew it would. But it stayed just out of reach, on the tip of her tongue. Then it finally fell to the back of her throat. Her head cocked curiously. “Mushrooms?” Tone implying the word may as well had been a nickname for an old friend.

“I don’t think I’d be able to forget a face like yours,” Metzli said cooly, smiling as bright as a summer’s day in July. “Besides that, I’ve managed to strike out consistently due to everyone being in a damn relationship. No one likes to have fun anymore.” A mocked frown plastered itself on their face, rolling eyes that settled once more on Macleod.

Their brow arched, “Mushrooms!” This time excitement tethered itself to their voice. Macleod was the woman they grew an innate interest in over something as simple as the internet. “Ah! Yes,” Metzli hands clasped together and gestured in victory upon finding the answer. “I was greatly disappointed that we never got the chance to meet. This’ll do though.”

Space was subtly decreasing between the two, unbeknownst to Metzli, they were leaning in further. They were so much taller, so they naturally had to do so in order to be as close as they wanted to be. Well, as close as was socially appropriate. “You wouldn’t happen to have any on ya?” They asked, narrowing their eyes with playful curiosity. “We could have a little fun right here.” Their left eye winked, with a grin that knew how stupid they were being. It was all for Eilidh’s amusement, just so they could see that smile.

Another trait of small towns—committed relationships were frequent. Or there was someone else on the mind, yet to be entwined. Eilidh didn’t mind the potential baggage the latter brought. She rarely stayed anywhere long enough for it to cause issue. “Everybody does know everybody. Just gotta know where to look.” She winked. “New in town?” Ding, ding, ding—assumption confirmed. There was the beginnings of another smile at the connection. Seems fate intended them to meet. All obstacles be damned. Like that night. “Right…” Mind flashed to the tree, to the darkness, to the nothing, to the…

……

Air grew tight, walls closed in. Eyes tried to focus back—saw the walls were made of fabric instead of dirt. Instincts pricked and snarled. Head struck forward under its thrall, thumping onto the other’s chest. When the two pair of eyes met again, old spark had returned in Eilidh’s. “Like how you think.” Spoken as if the previous action hadn’t transpired. And mind so cloudy, part wondered if it actually had. Her hand dug into a pocket, fishing out the drug of choice. Bits here and there, remnants of a larger pile recently reduced. Another distraction. Bag wiggled, as did her brow. “Got enough for a hit.” Unknowing it may be of use, in those moments alone, her stake was left back at her trailer. But she always carried a blade, strapped securely to a thigh. And knew it well, if the need arose. Until then, she’d enjoy the fun this Metzli could provide. They seemed to be full of it.

The impact to Metzli’s chest made them exclaim in surprise, “Oof! Ow!” The wounds from the eventful night with Milo made themselves known, making the space grow as they stepped back and gathered themselves. Before doing so, Macleod looked a little frazzled herself, but there wasn’t enough time to dwell on that or their wounds when she pulled out her bag. “Yeah I’m definitely pretty fresh. I’ve only been here eight months.” Eyes darted about the gallery. There were too many people to do anything privately, but they were feeling pretty lively today. Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, settling on a decision.

“You wanna do it now, cariña?” Metzli began to tease, their lips curling into a mischievous grin. Their accent binded to their words, embarrassment showing on their face for mere moments. “We can give these paying customers a real show. A performance piece.” A cold hand brushed against the wall near their painting, leaning sultrily, no longer imposing on Eilidh’s space.

Eilidh’s mind travelled back to the woods, to that destined spot. But eyes perceived the crowd, the bodies swarming the walls. Mind’s premonition would be left unfulfilled—own body deciding to remain amongst the others. The others so unexpecting of what was running between the two’s thoughts. Of the fun that would be had, a few paces away. Fun for them, at least. Another amused rumbling formed at the idea—compelled her to stay. To let them lose themselves, right then and there. What would be unlocked, in those frozen windows covering every surface? She was excited to know, to see. “Hope you got insurance.” Voice light and playful, but there was a steadiness to her gaze. Implying a hint of truth. Hands worked swiftly to reveal the mushrooms to the stale air. Brittle lilac wanting to break, and it did so gladly as she separated a chunk into two. “Fuck the customers. Just focus on me.” Her piece slipped passed her lips, down throat. Other half remained in her hand. But she offered it to Metzli, almost pressing it on their lips.

Eyes widened, shock and surprise from Eilidh’s excitement and subsequent approval covered their expression. Her tenacity was unlike anything Metzli had seen before. With no regard for her surroundings, their lips curled into a smile, watching Macleod take her piece. They were really going to do this. Perhaps their impulsivity and lack of thought on the matter was going to rear its ugly head at them later, but they didn’t care. At least, a part of them didn’t. The other, more responsible half that adored the gallery cared a lot. Insurance was something they definitely had, but they couldn’t imagine what damage could be done right now. Not when Macleod was offering their piece to them.

Silencing that irksome voice, Metzli leaned forward, “The customers aren’t the ones I want to fuck. So I’ll gladly focus on you.” Their voice was low, raspy, and wanting as they ushered the mushroom in Macleod’s fingers to their lips, using their teeth to take it and then standing erect to chew and swallow.

Maybe this would be disastrous, maybe this would be detrimental to their gallery; or maybe, just maybe it was the fun they needed to unwind and feel free for a while. Finally relaxing into the decision, a hand slid up Eilidh’s arm, “You want to give them a show? Bet we can scare them into leaving.” The hand slid back down and brushed away to rest back at their side. A chuckle escaped the confines of their throat, and they pushed away from the wall to stand closer and wait as the mushrooms took effect.

Brows rose and fell in unison. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Despite attention being placed on that surrounding congregation, eyes did not leave Metzli. Short, airy laugh rushed through. Disturbed a bit of fabric on their suit. “Seems bad for business. But, since you don’t mind.” In the dwindling window of normalcy, Eilidh took a fleeting moment to refamiliarize herself with those glimpses in time. Gaze returned to one that piqued the most interest. And grew irate when others had fallen to its thrall. Hand brushed against Metzli’s arm—as theirs had done to hers. Almost tickling against the skin. But it ended with a hold—teeth flashing—and she led the two of them over to her favored painting. As distance grew short, teeth flashed again. But their intentions were different for these other onlookers—snapping and cracking in a threat. Murmuring amongst themselves, they hurried over to another section of the gallery. Clearly satisfied, she beamed back at Metzli. “Let’s start here.” The smile remained, strong and firm, as a warm trickled down her head. Fell down into her eyes, melting the colors of Metzli’s suit together.

Watching Macleod snap like a madwoman at the patrons, a breathy giggle surfaced, one that Metzli had never made before. It was unrestricted and high, echoing in their ears as amorphous colors blurred past them. When they came to a halt, the world tilted and a hand grabbed firmly onto Eilidh’s shoulder to keep balance. Another giggle brushed their throat, the sensation a buzz that sent a chill down their spine.

With their faltering focus back on the Eilidh, the colors on her clothes melded together and hummed so powerfully that it reached the surface of Metzli’s skin. It made their suit jacket and tie grow in weight, a weight they wanted to remove, so they did. Their jacket and tie fell to a heap on the floor and the outside onlookers continued to murmur, furrowing their brows in confusion. Undeterred, their dress shirt became halfway unbuttoned. “Your wish is my command, Macleod.” Fangs greeted her as their mouth formed a toothy grin, eyes glowing red as the excitement peaked. Only Eilidh could see, Metzli’s back faced the patrons.

Cold lips suddenly pressed against those matching in temperature. Arms wrapped around in a firm embrace. The voices surrounding the two grew louder and more disturbed, followed by one of their employees asking Metzli what they were doing. Breaking away, they said, “New performance piece. Don’t mind too much.”

Her eyes remained transfixed on the painting. Watched as stagnant waters became rapids. As a sudden wind breathed life into dead trees. Fronds turned fingers—reaching out to Eilidh. Passed the frame, into the air. Entwined around her arms, gripping her down into the fixed window. Bursts of colors; bursts of sounds. Drenched in rainbow and symphony. Crash of cymbals carried a familiarity. When she followed that déjà vu, found the source was her own throat. Overcome with giggles—harmonizing into an ensemble. Her hands danced to this music, fluttering by her face. Other hands found her, different from the ones before. Pulled her out instead of in—into an embrace. Mouth found a partner and those giggles reverberated down both throats. Tongue soon followed, over two sets of teeth. Finding its own match, intent on staying.

Until a familiar click.

Mouth and teeth snapped shut, barely missing snapping Metzli’s lip in turn. A sizable crowd had formed, but Eilidh’s eyes easily found the perpetrator. Betrayed by the sheen of camera’s lens. Every spectacle had its memorabilia. Her lips peeled back. Teeth shook under the snarl stampeding out. All things heightened, even anger. One swift step, and she was close enough to grip the camera. One swift tense, and it cracked and snapped under her fingers. Clattering to the floor in unrecognizable bits.

“Everyone out! Get everyone out, Richard. And go home. Everyone goes home. This is a private performance.” Metzli commanded, seeing how Macleod responded to her picture being taken. It was hard to focus, colors and shapes melding together harmoniously, making their skin vibrate. The customers and employees only saw their side profile, a method they were using to hide their vampiric features. Everything continued to shift in their line of sight. They felt like they were floating, forgetting the small interruption already and pulling Eilidh back into them. Everyone was shuffling out already, fear halting any other captures from being taken.

Macleod’s features seemed to jitter, a comfortable sight, even bordering on satisfying. “Forget them. The gallery is ours now.” Metzli pulled her face to lock eyes with her, gently taking her chin and guiding her face. The dance of hums increased, all the paintings joining in on the ensemble to create a euphonious experience.

While Metzli stood obscured, the crowd could not even attempt to ignore Eilidh. Teeth still bared—exposed to air that forced salivation. Dripped down her chin. Mouth turned waterfall, and when she looked down a river had formed at her feet. It gushed out, lapping at the departing crowd. As eyes returned to them—bodies weaving in and out—she threw the remaining chunk of camera in her hand. It meddled with those bodies, lost to that flow. Brought the giggle back to her lips, despite the reasoning lost on her. The sound felt good on her ears, and they hardly noticed when departing footfalls stopped. Alone.

Attentions turned from the emptiness to the beauty beside, gentle touch instructing. But the wild still claimed Eilidh. Gentleness was not returned; she leapt onto Metzli with a hunger. Mouth met them, as mouth did when hungry. But it was with lips instead of teeth. And the world was rainbow again.

#wickedswriting #world turned rainbow #chatzy #;— interactions #ft. metzli b.#drug use tw #// the title on the doc is 'metzli FINALLY gets lucky'

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rotten-games · 4 years

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Not sure if this has been asked before but here’s a bit of an angsty ask, what would be the ROs average response to finding the Queenslayer crying?

Honestly, I thought this said dying rather than crying before I reread it so wiefbuewuifb

Ardwen: Discomfort. He’s not good with feelings and he’s never known how to comfort someone. A part of him would panic, on the outside he’d turn on the charm and hope that works out for him.

Arke: He can’t remember the last time he saw you cry. It must have been years. It’s… disquieting, finding someone he considered his best friend (maybe something more?) turned worst enemy crying now, it makes him think that maybe you’re mortal after all. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it, and so he simply sits down beside you and lets you cry.

Bex: He hugs you. He doesn’t know what else to do so he just hugs you and lets you cry it out. He feels helpless, knowing that’s all he can do.

Calyssa: She isn’t sure at first just what to do. Normally she’d be at the person’s side, comforting them as best she can but this… you… it’s out of her element. Eventually she’d suck it up and throw away her misgivings. Just for a moment, you can stop being her enemy.

Druvel: He doesn’t like seeing others unhappy, crying least of all, but he feels helpless. He’d try to crack some jokes, make you laugh, but even you can tell he isn’t really feeling it.

Emil: He’d nervously take your hand and just hold it. He doesn’t know why you’re crying but he knows that stopping it is beyond him. So… he’ll just sit there, and be there, until you don’t want him any more.

Ettia: She’d ask what’s wrong first and foremost, but wouldn’t truly expect an answer. It might be something she can’t control but maybe that’s okay. She just needs to be there for you.

Gwyn: He’d ask you to explain something to him. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the situation, he’s just looking for anything to distract you.

Herron: He’s stopped short. He doesn’t think he has a good bedside manner and even if he does love you he can’t imagine he’s the best person to calm you. But he’s there and no one else is, and Gods be damned if he’s leaving you alone. And so he stays and does whatever it is he can.

Keller: Her hugs are tight and secure and her voice is calm. She just listens if you want to talk, or sits in silence if you don’t. Whatever the reason is, she’s there, regardless.

Korrin: “Well,” They’d say, taking a seat beside you and searching with their hand. They gently massage your temples and wipe away your tears, “This will pass. It may not feel like it but sometimes feeling something is better than feeling nothing at all.”

Lokeira: He’s not good with words. He’s not really good at much of anything except killing and blending into the shadows. And so he simply curls up into your lap and embraces you. That’s all he can do, because if he decides to speak and says the wrong thing he’s afraid he wouldn’t forgive himself.

Necrolym: He’d distract you with snacks. Can’t cry when you’re eating, right? Truthfully, he just wouldn’t know how to properly broach it, and he certainly wouldn’t know what to say.

Nox: First task is figuring out what made you cry, second task is fixing it. She wouldn’t know how to comfort you and at this point she wouldn’t even try, but fixing the problem is the next best bet.

Qora: She’d get on one side of you and Zora would be on the other, or just in your lap. She’s not a snuggly person or good at comfort, but she knows Zora is very good at it. Or at least it always works for her.

Severa: Okay what hurt you and can she punch it? If not she’d be at a loss because she’s only ever punched her problems and ignored all the rest; and it’s not as if she can ignore you. And she wouldn’t want to.

Spotter: Hugs. That’s all they’d really know to do. They’d babble something along the lines of ‘are you okay?’ ‘what’s wrong?’ and the like but even if you respond they wouldn’t know what to do with it. So. Hugs are the answer.

#scenario ask #ROs #every time i answer one of these asks im reminded how many ros i have #ALSO I ALMOST FORGOT EMIL BBY #Anonymous #Rott #rott game #regrets of the traitor game #interactive fiction

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theonlinemuse · 3 years

Text

In the comics, Rick had more relatives (like his cousin Rebecca) and he probably would've been a big brother had his parents lived. Since we like to joke that he’s the ultimate big brother to the JSA, me and @freckledpianoman decided to make him a big brother in an AU where Wendi and Rex live:

His little sister’s named Rebecca, but Rick calls her Bex for short. He only calls her Rebecca if she’s annoying him and full names her (“Rebecca Gwendoline Tyler!”) when she’s in trouble. She’s seven and Rick often wonders if he has a little sister or a little monkey with how she’s forever getting into places she shouldn’t be in

“How did you even get in my room, I locked it from the inside.” “What, like it’s hard?”

She also likes perching on his shoulders because she likes seeing everything and feeling as tall as her brother

Rick didn’t know it at first, but Bex knew Beth first. Beth works in the children’s library on Saturdays where she does read alouds for kids and Bex is always talking about the smart girl who reads all sorts of fun stories to her. Bex often requests for Beth to do certain voices and accents and thinks that the voice that Beth does for grumpy characters makes her sound like her brother

He’s wondering who his sister befriended because this Beth person seems too good to be true. One day he’s running late to pick Bex up because he had engine problems and when he gets there, he sees his little sister being read to while she's sitting in the lap of a pretty girl

Bex sees him turning red and she tugs at his sleeve and goes, “Rick, don't embarrass me, she’s really nice”

Rick and Bex have a very petty rivalry over getting Beth’s attention

“Stop trying to steal my friend, Rick! I had her first!” “Kids, behave.” Wendi has to give them a look so that Beth doesn’t think they're heathens

Bex notices the look that her brother has every time he talks with Beth and she’s this close to giving him a shovel talk

“Stop trying to steal Beth!” “We go to the same school, I’d see her anyway!” “What, no fair! Do you have lunch with her? Does she share her brownies with you?” “Hmm, maybe she does, I guess you'll never know.”

And Bex chases after him while he laughs

Wendi ends up with a surprise pregnancy in her mid-forties a few months before Rick's sixteenth birthday. He’s torn between “you’re already old, stop having children” and being anxious over her pregnancy. He glares at Rex and goes, “this is what happens when you don’t keep your hands to yourself”. Rex is sitting there like “shouldn’t I be the one lecturing you on keeping your hands to yourself?” “Don’t distract me, old man, you’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

Everyone argues over baby names, but they eventually settle on Rowan. Her middle name is Elizabeth and yes, she was named for Beth. It was Rick and Bex’s idea since they were allowed to pick a middle name

Beth thought that she heard wrong at first, but she sees Rick smile softly and nod and it’s all happy tears for her. Later Beth buries her face in his chest and scolds him for making her cry

“You named a baby after me, how else am I supposed to react?”

It doesn’t help that Rowan’s first word is “Beff”

Rex taught his kids how to use the hourglass in case of emergencies. Rick has used the hourglass before for training. Bex got banned from using the hourglass because she somehow lifted up a corner of the house because she was trying to get her baseball back

“How?!” “Artemis taught me how to lift with my knees.”

Rick’s usually very responsible with the hourglass save for a couple of times when he impulsively stole it for “missions”, aka helping Beth or Bex. The third time was when he set the hourglass down while Rowan was using the coffee table to pull herself up and she ended up using it to lift the couch to get her pacifier from under it

“Dad, I think I broke Rowan!”

Beth often finds Rick asleep on the couch with Rowan napping on his chest. It’s as adorable as it sounds and she takes pics for the group chat. And sometimes she catches him singing softly to Rowan. Bex says that he did the same when she was little and they joke about Rick being the ultimate big brother to the JSA and to Bex and Rowan

There have been times where Rick and Bex will come out of their rooms to find Beth helping Rex with chemistry stuff, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be hanging out. While Rick’s glad that Beth gets a chance to discuss things with another chemistry nerd (even if it is his dad), the Tyler siblings are still put out by it. It was bad enough that Wendi asked her to pose for her newest painting, but now they have to worry about their dad stealing Beth

They have to sneak Beth into the house so Rex can’t grab her on her way in, Bex clinging to Beth while Rick guides her in with his hand on her back

But Rick sees how much fun Beth has posing for Wendi’s paintings and he’s just happy that Beth’s happy

Beth and Rick share custody of Hootie and after Rowan was born, Rick does not want that ‘damn feral bird’ anywhere near his baby sister, but Hootie acts like a guard owl for Rowan. He tried shooing Hootie away from her crib, but he ends up getting his head pecked while Hootie lands in the crib, nuzzling Rowan's hair much to Rick's horror. He thinks she'll get rabies

Beth scolds Rick when she hears about it from Bex. “Your mom already had Rowan get her shots and Hootie’s up to date on all of his. They’ll be fine.” And Rick comes home one day to find Hootie perched on Wendi’s shoulder while she holds Rowan

“Mom. There is an owl on your shoulder, why aren't you freaking out?” “He never does anything, he’s just curious about her.” “He’s a wild bird, not a dog.” “He’s basically a dog, Bex plays fetch with him.”

“Of course she does. Trust Beth to rescue a bird just as weird as her.” “Please, you love her weirdness.”

There’s a babysitting episode where Rick has to babysit his sisters because Wendi and Rex have date night and Rex goes, "do not call us, Rick, I just want a night out with your mother and if you even think about sending a text, I’ll call Beth and tell her how you feel about her. Do not test me, son.” Rick thinks his dad is seriously pent up but as the car pulls out of the driveway, Rick gets a text from Rex that says “you should invite Beth over for some company while you watch your sisters”

Rick is more than a little disturbed that his dad of all people is playing matchmaker

Bex perks up when she hears that Beth might be coming over and she climbs over Rick to try and get to his phone so that she can call Beth. “Bex, stop that, I’ll call her.” “But you take too long, Riri.” It’s a wonder that Beth is able to hear him over Bex constantly interjecting and saying that she wants to talk with her

Beth offers to help out with dinner, but Rick keeps shooing her out of the kitchen, saying that she should relax and hang out with the girls. “But cooking is relaxing for me.” “Go watch a stupid sitcom or something, I’ll be done in a minute.”

They take turns feeding Rowan while she's in her high chair, she’s a very messy eater and Rick always gets food on him whenever he feeds her. But it doesn't stop Rowan from trying to put her hands all over her brother's face. She thinks the faces he makes are funny and Bex just eggs her on

It's times like this where Rick is glad that Beth is here because as much as he loves his sisters, they can be a handful. “Bex, stop encouraging this.” “Aim for his eyes next time, Rowan.” “No!” He sees Rowan pouting and he has to go into stern big brother mode. “We do not poke people's eyes, young lady.”

Beth thinks it's funny when Rick gets all stern with the girls and she starts calling him “old man”. He's so affronted by it and you know he's gonna get back at her for it once the girls are put to bed. Beth knows it too and she tries to escape, but it ends up with Rick chasing her all over the house before he finally tackles her onto the couch

“Get off me, you might break your hip.” “Sorry, I think my hip is acting up. You’re stuck here now.” “You’re a jerk." “It’s fair game, sweetheart.” “Well, you really sound like an old man now.” Rick just pins her down with his hips and goes, “does this feel old to you?” “I dunno Rick, how are you feeling? Any joints out of place?” Rick smirks and the next thing Beth knows, she’s being princess carried. “You tell me.”

Rick just twirls her around just to hear her laugh more and that’s what Wendi and Rex walk in on. Rick almost drops Beth, but she clings onto him before he can. Wendi has a mischievous grin as she asks if Beth and Rick had fun. She wishes she had her phone out to take a pic of how red Rick’s face went. Beth is embarrassed, but Wendi and Rex invite her to stay the night since her parents are away and it’s too late for her to go home

“Listen, I love Beth and I want you to make a move, don't get me wrong, but I am not ready for grandkids.” “Dad, gross, mom already gave me the talk. I haven't even thought about having kids yet.” “Lies, I’ve seen the way you look at Beth whenever she holds Rowan.” “That doesn’t mean I’m imagining having kids with her!” “I’m not stupid, I’ve given that look before.”

Rick is horrified because he did not want to hear that, but it does explain Bex and Rowan. “Bottom line, you and Beth need to be responsible.” “You’re saying all this like there’s even a chance something’ll happen.” “Do I need to point out the way you look at her?” “Dad, please, can you just—stop embarrassing me in front of my friends? I’ve worked too hard to trick Beth into thinking that having me as a friend may actually not be such a bad idea for you to scare her away now.”

“You don't give Beth enough credit. She’s here to stay.”

Once there was a problem with the daycare that Rowan was supposed to be at and Rick had picked her up before lunch and now she’s hanging at the loser table with the JSA. Rick is treated like an exhibit at the zoo because of his baby sister because she’s just babbling happily in his arms and she gets away with pulling his hair

The teachers are just watching Rick come and go to classes with a baby like it’s no big deal and the students just look at him in shock because the delinquent they’ve all been told to avoid is being ordered around by an infant

And now they have a front row seat for Beth and Rick coparenting Rowan. A couple people straight up ask if they're dating because it’s such a domestic sight. Beth is startled and blurts out, “oh no, no, we’re best friends”

Rick is off to the side, quiet but heartbroken. Rowan pats his face to comfort him

One time when Rick was out of the house and Beth was hanging out with the girls, Bex randomly asks Beth if she likes Rick. “He’s my best friend, of course I like him.” “I meant do you like like him, like how mom and dad do.” “Oh, um—” "Because it’s okay if you do. Rowan and me like you and so do mom and dad.” Beth looks unsure so Bex and Rowan cuddle with her

Rick comes back to find all of them cuddling and he catches Bex giving Beth a look. He knows something is up because he knows Bex, that's her ‘I did something and I don't want Rick to know’ look. “What did you do?” “Not even a hi, Riri?” “That’s the same look you had when you let a lava cake explode in the oven and tried to hide it from mom.”

“I didn’t do anything! Maybe you’re trying to hide something so you’re deflecting onto me!” “Did Beth teach you what deflecting means?” “She’s been helping me get ready for the spelling bee, duh. And I’m not deflecting.” “Rebecca Gwendoline, what did you do?” “On second thought, I’m going to bed early tonight, byyeee!”

He just looks at Rowan, who’s gnawing on the plush owl that Beth gave her. “You’re not telling me either, are you?” She blows a raspberry at him. “Of course not. Hanging around Beth has made you and Bex too smart for your own good.”

Beth and Rick once looked after the girls for the weekend while Wendi and Rex go on vacation. The guest room is practically already Beth's room so the Tylers tell her she can just stay over, though Rex did expect them to share a bed. He and Wendi have a little bet going on about it. They end up video calling Beth on the first night

Meanwhile Beth and Rick are snuggled up against each other when Beth glances at her phone and goes “oh crap” and pushes Rick away from her as she answers, but the Tylers can still hear Rick grumbling. Beth keeps glancing towards Rick, who’s just sitting there pouting because precious time is being wasted and he knows the girls will be awake soon. “Beth, honey, are you okay? You’re looking a little distracted.” “Uh—I’m fine! Just making sure the girls aren't already awake.”

“Rick isn’t giving you trouble, is he?” Beth sneaks a look at a glowering, pouty Rick. “No?” Right after she says that, he starts sneaking his hand up her waist and she lets out a choked gasp. “Beth?” “Okay, he is a little,” she admits before swatting Rick’s hand away

“Is he awake yet? We can tell him to stop being such a demon if you need us to.” “Uh—no! He's asleep. In his room. You know how he gets, low blood pressure demon and all that.” “Oh, you have no idea. Rex says he still has phantom pains where Rick clawed him the last time he tried to wake him up.”

“You sure we had a kid and not a feral cat?” Rick forgets himself and goes, “I was seven, get over it old man.” Beth drops her phone onto her lap to panic while Rex and Wendi quietly crack up on the other end of the call

They can still hear her admonishing Rick. “Why would you say that, now your parents are gonna be wondering what I’m doing in your room and this is so embarrassing!”

Beth’s hiding her face in her hands and Rick grabs her phone off her lap and says “uh—we're gonna go, I think I just heard Rowan.” “Rowan won’t be waking up for another hour—” “Bye mom, love you.”

Rick spends the next little while coaxing Beth to stop hiding. “It’s not that bad, you know my parents love you.” He rests his head on her shoulder and goes, “c’mon, Beth”, but she jerks away and says “no, I’m never living this down”

“This isn't the first time they’ve caught us in bed together.” “Not helping, Rick!”

He hugs himself against her and feels her relax, but she’s still hiding her face. Then his phone buzzes and he holds his screen up to her to show a text from Wendi saying, “tell Beth we trust her (not you)”. Beth collapses into giggles over the text

“My own parents think I’m some kind of deviant!” “Okay, but is that such a wild assumption to make? I didn’t even say anything that bad!” “Oh? Then did I just imagine you calling me trouble, sweetheart?”

#Stargirl #The Tyler Rules #Beth Chapel #Rick Tyler #Hournite #ship it

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