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whatsnewalycat · 1 month

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Designated Person | 9

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 9: Where The Wild Things Are

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.6k+

Tags / Warnings: alternating pov, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship, angst, food mention, jealousy, alcohol & alcoholism, lying, conflict avoidance, crying, internal conflict, birthday party, a low-key dudes rule moment (bros! bros! bros!), tried my hardest hardest with Spanish but I am a white girl I’m sorry if its wrong pls let me know, a lot of dialogue like so much dialogue fuck, children, toxic relationships just bad all around

Notes: WELL HI, long time no see! I know it’s been over 6 months since I’ve updated. I went on a warpath with another series (Psychomanteum—it’s finished if you wanna check it out). But I’m back to force these two dummies to walk through hellfire 💘

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———————————————————————————

Nothing seems right.

For what has to be the hundredth time, you sift through the sparse collection of t-shirts and dresses hanging in your closet. Each time you push a hanger aside to consider a potential outfit, your brain falls into the same pattern.

First, you wonder if Frankie would like it. Granted, if you showed up wearing a cardboard box he’d still want to fuck you.

You want him to like it more than that, though.

You want him to see you and get all weak in the knees. You want him to look at you in that way he does sometimes. That soft, magnetic look that tugs at every part of you. The one that argues against logic and speaks to intuition instead. That can't-eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of look.

After considering this entirely reasonable and attainable goal, you picture yourself wearing the clothes through Angie’s eyes.

You dissect each potential outfit as she would. This dress too low cut, that one too frumpy, the other too short. A critical chorus of slut slut slut plays in the back of your head, accented by the memory of her manicured hands wrapped around your throat, the growl she let out when she squeezed around your windpipe.

“You little slut, I will fucking kill you.”

Throughout this whirlwind of turmoil, snippets from this morning rise to the surface and drown out everything else.

Frankie’s lips on yours, hungry and certain. His strong hands on your body, digging into your skin. The way he talked to you, voice low and strained—Whose pussy is this?

Every time these words repeat, your heart hammers in your chest. Tingles trickle out from between your legs and work up your spine.

The time before this, right after he moved in, when you fucked on the couch… you felt dirty afterwards. It sent you into a spiral of self-guilt that gnawed away at you for days. It reminded you of how sex was towards the end last time. Like you could have been anyone. Like he needed something to make him feel alive, and you were just the most ready and willing participant.

But it felt different this time.

Intimate in a way it hasn’t been in so long. It felt like an act of something bigger and stronger, like he needed you specifically. Not the rush of endorphins. Not just the heat of another person. Not a substitute for the love his wife wouldn’t give him. It felt like he needed you and nothing else would sate him.

“I won’t do that to you again, mariposa, I promise. I’ll fix it, I promise I’ll fix it, ok?”

Right about here is when indecision ties your brain off in a knot that seizes the production of valuable output.

Then you return to yourself, staring into the closet like it’s fucking Narnia, and slide the hanger aside to do it all over again.

—

Frankie collapses into a patio chair with a groan, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair before replacing his cap, then tilts his head up towards the blazing sun and closes his eyes.

When he trekked through the Andes with his team, there were nights where he felt the cold so deep in his bones, he wondered if he would ever be able to get warm again.

Right now is the opposite of that.

Right now he would give up fistfuls of cash to feel that bone-deep freeze.

He casts a longing glance at the cooler and fantasizes about drinking a cold beer. That psssch-ahsound it would make when he opened the tab. He imagines the condensation cooling his heated skin and the alcohol calming his fried nerves.

Fuck, that sounds perfect.

Through the open window to the dining room, he can hear Angie and her sister Marta gossiping to each other, talking about how so-and-so is dating what’s his face again and blah blah blah. His ears perk up when Marta segues into their personal life.

“Speaking of people getting back together… How are things with you and Frankie?”

Angie doesn’t say anything, but must make a face at her sister because she follows the question up by giggling, “What, can I not ask?”

“Ay, Marta. No seas metiche.”

A beat of silence passes. Marta must non-verbally pry, because Angie speaks again, quieter this time.

“We’ll see.” Then quickly, almost defensively, she adds, “He’s getting his act together, you know. He quit drinking, and he’s doing this parole program. It seems like… it seems like he’s trying.”

“Mmm. Is he still living with that girl? Su amante?”

Frankie knows Angie well enough to know she rolls her eyes in response.

Marta tsks, but any further conversation is cut off by a sudden commotion of squealing and bickering.

He looks down at his watch, reading 1240, and guesses that Angie’s friend Carmen arrived with her five children.

His eyes clamp shut and he fantasizes about drinking a beer. Maybe three. Hell, make it ten. Ten would do just fine. Ten would anesthetize him just enough to let him clear his head and make this whole ordeal manageable.

“Just get through today,” he tells himself, “Just one more goddamn day, then you can be done with this fucking charade.”

The backdoor opens, releasing a burst of chaotic noise. Angie and Carmen step out, and he stands at attention.

“Oh wow, look at all this,” Carmen tells Angie, “Damn girl, you really went all out, didn’t you?”

“We don’t really know what the situation will be next year, with Frankie and everything,” Angie’s eyes flick to him, and she shrugs, “So I figured, make it memorable. For all of us.”

“Sure,” Carmen nods, concern creasing her brow, then she acknowledges Frankie with a quick head-to-toe scan, “Francisco, how’re you doing?”

“Better than I deserve,” he smirks, and gestures to the gift bag hanging off her wrist, “Let me take that for you. Want anything to drink?”

She hands off the present and glances at Angie, then back to Frankie, “Can I get a beer?”

“Sure,” he nods to Angie, “How about you, amor?”

“I’ll take a beer, too.”

“Two beers coming up,” Frankie calls behind him while descending the stairs.

As he walks to the 10’ x 20’ white canopy tent, he tries to eavesdrop, but the two women talk to each other in hushed tones. He has no doubt it’s about him, though, because he hears Carmen exclaim, “Oh shit, really?” then, quieter but still distinguishable, “Good for you, mamá.”

After dropping the gift bag on the designated table, Frankie goes to the cooler to grab two cans of beer and a bottle of water, then returns to the deck, where Angie and Carmen both lean against the railing. They both murmur a thanks when he hands them their drinks.

He rubs between her shoulder blades, “Need anything else?”

“A fucking Xanax,” she jokes while cracking her beer open. He watches foam bubble up from the mouth of the can and his pulse surges green with envy. She takes a long sip, then sighs, “Mmm let’s see. Food is done, Mamá and Marta are bringing everything out. Your mom should be here with the cake any minute. You got everything set up in the tent?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright, well,” she takes another swig and shrugs, “Wanna get the slip ‘n’ slide going? We can get the kiddos changed into their suits.”

“You got it.”

He starts away, but she grabs his shirt to stop him.

When he turns back to her, eyebrows raised in question, her golden brown eyes meet his, then drop to his lips, “Thank you.”

His hand finds her waist and he nods, “Not a problem.”

She kisses him, and he kisses her back, thinking of you—always fucking thinking of you— as he tells himself: One more day.

—

Leah picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Tell me I shouldn’t go to this party.”

She releases a big sigh that makes you grimace, then says, “Tell me you’re not actually thinking of going.”

You glance up at the Morales residence through your windshield, sinking down into your seat when you spot Benny, Will, and Dani making their way up the driveway.

“I’m outside in my car.”

Leah is quiet for a moment before she asks, “Do you want to go?”

“Yes and no,” you watch the Millers open the door and go inside the house, “I want to see Sarah, and I wanna be there for Frankie, just because… I don’t know, everything, but…”

“But Angie?”

You nod, casting your eyes down to your hands to pick at the frayed cuticles, “I’m afraid she’s going to say something or do something to retaliate against me.”

“You did have an affair with her husband—”

“I’m well aware,” you snip.

The silence that follows wrings guilt from your stomach. A burning sensation works up your throat behind your eyes, so you pinch them shut and hang your head.

“Fuck, sorry. You’re right. She has every right to despise me. I deserve it. I shouldn’t go, it’s stupid.”

Your words come out all pathetic and warbled by tears, but you continue anyway.

“I feel so torn. I care about them a lot and I wanna be there. I want it to be better so that… fuck. I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“Why do you want it to be better?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, I want you to tell me.”

You take a deep, shaky breath, tilting your head up towards the drooping ceiling of your car. The answer pulses through your body and tingles on the tip of your tongue. If you speak it you might shatter to dust.

Instead, you offer up a consolation prize to distract her.

“I did something I shouldn’t have,” you whisper, then swing your head down to stare at your steering wheel, “I… had sex with him.”

Leah snorts, “I fucking knew it.”

“Shut up, you did not,” you scoff, “It just happened this morning.”

“Rach owes me $10.”

“You bet that—God, you are the worst.”

You hang up on her, then stare at your phone for a few seconds before sending a text to Frankie.

< ME: < Are you sure I should come? I feel nervous

A few unresponsive seconds go by before you flip the visor down to inspect your reflection in the mirror. Not terrible. Some black smudges around your eyes. Could use some lipstick.

You remedy these problems while trying not to think too hard about what you’re about to do, lying to yourself in hopes that you can somehow warp the truth.

This will be fine.

—

By the time Frankie gets the hose hooked up to the slip ‘n’ slide, his mother- and sister-in-law are setting the last few food items out on the long folding table under the tent.

Two of Carmen’s sons dash across the deck in their swimsuits. As he passes them on the stairs, he ruffles the older one’s scraggly dark brown hair, calling after them, “Soda and water in the cooler if you boys are thirsty.”

They holler an acknowledgment as Frankie makes his way inside.

The relief of stepping into cool, conditioned air quickly dissipates as the commotion hits him.

At least a dozen conversations meld together in this wall of indistinguishable sound. He can’t quite focus on any of the vaguely familiar faces or isolate one single voice from the warble of people talking.

A heavy, frantic pounding starts in his chest. His hands start to tingle. Noises disappear completely for a second, replaced by a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Jesus fucking Christ, I’m losing it.

He pulls a chair out from the dining room table and sits down, praying nobody notices him clench his eyes closed to inhale a deep, wide breath.

Then another.

Everything starts to come back into focus, and he tunes into someone asking, “Fish, you ok?”

He startles when a broad palm settles between his shoulder blades. Looking towards the source, he finds Will’s dusty blue eyes studying him with concern.

“Shit,” Frankie mutters, running a hand over his face before he clearing his throat and standing, “Sorry, yeah. Think I got too much heat or something.” He gives his friend a quick, one-armed hug, “Good to see you, man.”

When Will parts ways with Frankie, he gives him a look that says he doesn’t buy it for a second, but doesn’t push the subject.

His wife, Dani, approaches with a cautious smile, “Frankie, good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too” Frankie gives her a hug, “Thanks for coming.” They separate and he asks Will, “Benny here yet?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, jerking his head towards the living room, “Shooting the shit with your mom.”

“Figures,” Frankie chuckles and shakes his head, “I gotta go make my rounds, but, uhh,” he gestures from the gift box in the crook of Will’s arm to the back door, “There’s a gift table outside. Food and drinks and all that, help yourselves.”

“Catch up later, yeah?” Will nods.

Frankie mirrors the action as a few waist-high kids race past, budging in front of them when Will opens the door.

He notices a cluster of aimless partygoers lingering between the dining and living room, and starts directing the halted human traffic out to the backyard. It prods them into action, thinning out the crowded common area as he makes his way to the couch, where he finds his mom sitting with Sarah in her lap and Benny at her side. Benny says something to Sarah that makes her and her grandmother giggle.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Frankie asks, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

“Francisco!”

She passes Sarah to Benny and struggles to get to her feet.

“Christ, mamá, let me help you” he mutters while taking her well-worn hands in his to pull her upright.

She’s always been a woman of small stature, barely measuring up to his shoulders once the growth spurts petered out and left him as tall as he’d always be. But each time he sees her, she seems to have shrunk a little bit more.

As soon as she steadies herself, she kisses his cheek, then pulls him down into a surprisingly tight embrace, telling him, “I missed you so much, mijo.”

“Missed you too, Ma.”

She pulls back from the hug, but holds onto his arms to look him over, “How have you been?”

“Fine,” he nods, looking away when her keen dark eyes narrow, “What about you, hmm? How was the drive?”

“Bien bien,” she waves off his questions and takes a step back to smile at the birthday girl, “She’s getting so big, Pancho. Such a pretty dress.”

Sarah grabs at the puffy hem of her skirt and giggles at the attention.

Frankie snorts in admiration at his daughter, then asks her, “You wanna go see your party, princesa?”

“Yes!”

He looks at Benny, “I gotta see if Ang needs me to do anything, do you wanna…?”

“Escort these lovey ladies?” Benny winks at Julieta, “Shit, I’d love to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie mutters, then tells Sarah, “Go with Uncle Benny, I’ll be there in a minute, ok?”

She jumps off Benny’s lap and runs to the back door, leveraging her weight against the knob. It swings open and she escapes, sending Benny chasing after her, laughing, “Hey, wait up!”

Julieta starts after them just as Sarah’s bedroom door opens, and two little girls come charging towards the back door. Carmen and Angie trail behind, the former carrying a baby tucked into her side, the latter looking around with a puzzled expression pasted to her face.

“Everyone outside?” Angie asks her husband, slowing to a stop a few feet away from him while Carmen continues outside.

“Yeah. I, uhh, got the slip ‘n’ slide set up, all the food is out—anything else you need me to do?”

“Is your girl here?”

She smirks and tilts her head at him, like she’s joking or teasing, but the humor doesn’t reach her eyes.

His skittish heart skips in his chest.

Sensing a trap, Frankie searches her face and shakes his head like he doesn’t understand.

Angie raises an eyebrow at him, “Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

So fucking sick of this.

“Whatever,” he blinks, “No. I haven’t seen her yet. Anything else?”

The forced amusement immediately drops from her face and she stomps outside, slamming the door closed behind her.

He takes a deep breath, pulling his hat up to run a hand through his hair, then glances at his watch.

1308

He shakes some of the nervous energy from his fingertips and starts to pace the living room.

What if you decided not to come?

Honestly, it would make today much easier. He could just go out there and play his role. Put on his mask and blame his disposition on the ongoing legal battle. His mother, wife, and friends, they’d be none the wiser.

Something inside him lurches at the thought.

Suddenly and very clearly, he understands that if you don’t show, nothing will change. He will drive this ship into the ground.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings.

He jogs down the steps, swings the door open, and there you are, wearing a pretty floral sundress and a nervous smile.

“Hey,” he backs up to allow you entry.

“Hi,” your smile grows wider, and you step past him as you enter the house, “Long time no see.”At the foot of the stairs, you turn to face him, “Where’s the party?”

“Backyard.”

“Oh.”

When you glance down at his mouth, one hundred butterflies start chittering away at his stomach. He licks his lips and notices himself gravitating towards you. It doesn’t help that you’re doing it, too. The subtle way your body bows in his direction, inching so close he can smell the bright burst of your perfume and the damp musk of your sweat.

“Is everyone out there?”

“Pretty sure,” his eyes flick to the vacant upstairs, then back to you, “Why?”

Just an inch away, you clamp a grin closed and shrug, “No reason.”

“Uh huh,” he raises an eyebrow, daring to rest his hand on your waist. The contact floods his body with a hot, thudding pulse he can taste.

Searching his face, you slide your palm over his heart. Beneath your touch, the muscle pounds at its seams.

Against his better judgment, he leans in to capture your lips in his. Warmth spreads out from his chest through his limbs. You hook a hand behind his neck and pull him closer, your body curving flush against his.

Only hours have gone by since he last saw you, but it feels like months. It’s like that with you. Timeless when you’re together and an eternity when you’re apart.

Pulling back, you look at the floor and shake your head, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“We shouldn’t, umm,” you swallow hard, shaking your head again as you glance upstairs, “Here, now, you know…”

He glances at the back door, “You’re right. We should get to the party.“

“Yeah,” you take a big step back and clear your lungs with a deep breath, then hold up your gift bag, “Where should I put this?”

“Right this way—”

“Wait, look at me,” you chuckle, tugging at his hand.

He faces you, asking, “What?”

You cup his cheek and lick the pad of your thumb, bringing it to his bottom lip, “Lipstick.”

Your brow furrows in concentration, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth as you scrub off the evidence.

It’s kind of adorable, the way in which you do this. Doting, almost. Reminds him of the times Mamá would catch him with a dirty face in public and try to make him more presentable.

Briefly, he pictures you as the matriarch of a rowdy crew of children. Driving a minivan to school drop-offs and extracurricular activities and family outings. It suits you.

He can’t stop his lips from curving into a smile.

“What?” you grin, eyes flicking to his.

“Nothing,” he murmurs as you tilt his face around and inspect him. “Better?”

“Better,” you nod, “How about me?”

He pinches your chin and looks you over, correcting a smudge before telling you, “All clear. You ready?”

You give a half-hearted shrug, looking around at the ground, then ask, “Your wife isn’t gonna like… yell at me in front of everyone or pelt me with produce, right? This isn’t an elaborate revenge prank?”

“Is that what all the tomatoes are for? Shit,” he teases, earning a chuckle and an eye roll from you. “No, but really. She agreed to be nice.”

“Ok,” you nod, “So I’m like allowed to talk to you and everything without worrying she’ll try to murder me?”

Frankie snorts, “She wouldn’t murder you—”

“She has literally told me ‘I will fucking kill you.’”

“That was—” he shakes his head, then brings his hands to your shoulders and stares into your eyes, “It’s gonna be fine, mariposa. We’re gonna go bullshit with people and eat some food, and then we’re gonna home and watch a stupid fucking movie. Ok?”

You laugh, dropping your gaze for a moment before returning with a bashful smile, “Ok.”

—

As you make your way down the food table, piling tamales and Spanish rice and fresh fruit on a flimsy paper plate, you feel eyes on the back of your head. Whether it’s just one set or ten, you don’t care to know, but the feeling sends a shiver up your spine.

When you reach the end of the line, you take a deep breath before turning to find a place to sit.

Like every other party, the crowd is mostly separated into cliques.

Parents from around the neighborhood stick together at a few long tables, bribing their children to eat and drink water before returning to the slip-n-slide. At another table sits Angie’s family, including the queen herself, whose pointed stare you gloss over, ignoring her and Frankie at her side. You find some familiar faces at a table near the edge of the big party tent: Benny, Will, and Dani. With them is a small, elderly woman who must be Frankie’s mom or an aunt or something, due to the striking resemblance.

The whole thing reminds you of choosing a place to sit in your high school cafeteria. Much like you did in those days, you gravitate towards an empty table nearby, but halt when some calls your name.

Frowning, you look around to find Benny waving at you.

“Over here,” he pulls out the chair beside him.

You approach with a smile, the tension held in your shoulders dissolving just a little as you take the open seat and greet everyone.

“Thanks. I didn’t know if, umm… it was ok,” you chuckle nervously and drop your eyes to your plate, shaking your head.

“Oh, come on now, you’re always welcome with us,” Benny grins, leaning back in his chair to reveal the tiny graying woman on the other side of him, “Have you met Frankie’s mom, Julieta?”

“I have not,” you reach across Benny to shake her hand, “Good to meet you, I’m—”

She waves you off and pushes her chair out behind her. You half-expect her to furiously walk away at your presence, but instead she wobbles over to you and holds her arms open.

“I know who you are. Come here, mija.”

You stand to accept the invitation, stammering out, “Oh—ok—”

Emotion wells up in your chest when her bony arms squeeze tight around you and she tells you, “Thank you for taking care of my boy.”

Not sure what to say, you just hug her back for a few long seconds. The embrace says it all. It feels maternal and earnest and brings a few tears to your eyes. When she pulls away and smiles at you, you notice she’s a little misty-eyed, too, and you smile back at her. She gives your cheek a few pats before you both return to your seats.

“How’ve you been?” Dani asks.

You contemplate the question long enough for Benny to interject.

“Well, she’s keeping Fish out of trouble so I’m sure she’s having a hell of a time.”

You shrug, “It��s nothing compared to some of the toddlers I’ve had to deal with.”

Your audience chuckles, then awaits a follow up.

“No, I, umm… I’m doing ok. Going through a breakup, so that’s tough, but… mostly I’m good.”

Why did I say that?

“A breakup?” Benny leans back and drapes an arm over the back of your chair, “What happened?”

“Oh, we don’t have to—” you laugh at your plate, stabbing a chunk of watermelon.

“Come on, give us the dirt,” Benny prods.

You shove the watermelon in your mouth and wrinkle your nose at him, shaking your head.

“Let the girl have some privacy,” Dani scolds, “If she doesn’t wanna talk about it, she doesn’t wanna talk about it.”

“If she didn’t wanna talk about it she wouldn’t’ve mentioned it,” he counters.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t even a big deal. We were only dating for a few weeks and it wasn’t a good match,” you explain, glancing around the table, “I don’t know why I said it, sorry, I’m just, umm… nervous.”

You notice Will studying you and hold his meticulous gaze for a moment before dropping your eyes to your plate. He speaks up then, drawing the fire away from you.

“Hey, that’s alright. Not like Benny has room to criticize,” he gives his brother a lopsided grin, “Remember that girl that tried to stab you?”

“Not this again,” Benny groans.

“Ok well now you have to tell me,” you say, flashing a grateful smile to Will before nudging Benny, “Come on, give me the dirt.”

“Well, if you’re gonna twist my arm about it.” He visibly shifts into storytelling mode, sitting up straighter as a glint of mischief sparks in his eyes, “First of all, I had no business dating her to begin with. She had a PT Cruiser with whiskey plates. If that’s not a red flag, I don’t know what is.”

—

Trying to be a halfway decent host, Frankie makes his way around the party checking in with people, introducing himself to all the unfamiliar faces and making small talk, recycling the same lines.

Drinks are in the cooler if you’re thirsty. Thanks for coming. I’m doing great, how about you?

Meanwhile, Ang seems to have taken on his former role as the champion beer drinker of the party. Every time he glances at her she’s either guzzling it down or popping open a new aluminum can.

When she and Carmen start directing slip ‘n’ slide traffic and seem sufficiently distracted, he walks up to the table where some of his favorite people are seated and takes the open chair next to Will.

“Look who it is,” Will smirks at him, “We were just talking about you.”

“Christ, do I wanna know?” he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“Probably not, I was talking mad shit about you,” you tease, looking at him with a grin that makes his heart swell.

“Figures you would be,” he shoots back.

You chuckle and shake your head, “No, actually I was just telling them about how I’m teaching you to cook.”

“Oh yeah,” he looks around the table, “Did you tell them about the stir-fry?”

“Ok, you tried with the stir-fry and it was almost edible—”

“Almost edible?” Benny laughs

“Somehow the rice was both undercooked and burnt, and the veggies were mush,” you share, sitting up taller when you meet his eyes, “But it could’ve been worse. You’re learning!”

“I’m just impressed you could get him in the kitchen in the first place,” Benny says, then turns his attention to Julieta, “Mamá, you didn’t make him cook anything growing up?”

She tsks and waves him off, then explains, “His father wouldn’t let me. He was very traditional, you know, said it was women’s work.“

“It’s ok, Ma,” Frankie assures her.

“I am glad you’re learning now.” A smile stretches across her face, “You must be grateful to have such a good teacher.”

“I am, really,” he nods and glances at you before admitting, “I’d be a fucking mess without her.”

Everyone at the table seems to sit with this information in silence for a moment before Will clears his throat and asks, “Are you still working on that car?”

Frankie leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Here and there. Lately it’s just been collecting dust.”

“Mind if I check it out?” Will inquires, “It’s been, what, a year and a half since I’ve seen it?”

“Sure,” he frowns, looking over at you and your creased brow as if seeking permission, at which point you give a shrug, then he squints up across the yard and spots Angie talking to her mom and dad. “Let me just tell Ang so she doesn’t lose her shit if she can’t find me.”

The three men stand from the table. Frankie gives you one more glance before starting off towards his wife. With each step he takes across the grass, he wishes more and more that he could kiss you again. Give you reassurance that you’re doing great in this precarious situation.

Angie’s father glares at him as he approaches, which isn’t abnormal. Angie follows his line of sight, wobbling a bit as she lays eyes on him. Surprisingly, she smiles, “Hey!”

“Hey—”

She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him, the action so unexpected he stumbles back a step. Her lips taste of beer and poor judgment. When he pulls away, he plasters on a fake grin and says, “The guys wanna look at the car, is it ok if I slip away for a few?”

“You boys and your toys,” she rolls her eyes, “Fine, just be back for presents in a couple minutes, yeah?”

“Alright,” he searches over her shoulder, “How’s Sarah doing?”

“Good, good,” she nods, “She’s playing with Carm’s kids in the sandbox.”

“Make sure she gets some water, I don’t think she drank any with—”

“She’s fine, Francisco. I’ve got it,” she insists, patting his chest.

He studies her for a moment, then says, “Ok, I’ll be back in a minute. We’ll be in the garage if you need me.”

“Give me a kiss,” Angie demands, her long nails scraping at the nape of his neck. He leans in and presses his lips to hers, feeling nothing but irritation and disgust.

—

When Frankie and the Miller brothers disappear into the house, so does your social armor, leaving you exposed.

For a while you make scattered small talk with Julieta and Dani, discussing Sarah and the party and the weather. You watch Sarah play with her friends from a distance, not wanting to disrupt their sand castle building by approaching. Every once in a while, your eyes cheat to Angie.

A vile, familiar sensation sits heavy in your stomach.

He warned you that it might be difficult seeing them together, but you forgot how bad it hurts to witness.

The way she kissed him doesn’t help. Hanging off him, looking at him with bedroom eyes.

It’s not the same this time. He’s different now.

The foul thing in your belly goes dead weight, making you lurch.

What if he’s not?

Before you can spiral too much, you hear, “Chacha!” and realize Sarah is running towards you

“Hi, pumpkin!” you smile and outstretch your arms to catch her as she slams into you.

“I’m not a pumpkin, I’m just a girl,” she giggles.

“Are you having fun at your party?”

She grunts out an “mhmm” while you pull her up onto your lap. Her face is flushed, skin all heated and damp with sweat.

“You look like you’re hot, do you want some water?”

“Um. Ok!” she smiles.

“Ok let me get you—”

“I got it,” Dani stands and starts towards the cooler.

You murmur a thanks and return your attention to Sarah, “Thank you for letting me come to your party. I’m having so much fun.”

She giggles in response, leaning into you.

“How are you liking daycare? Do you get to play with your friends?”

She nods.

Dani returns with a cold water bottle, twisting the cap open before handing it to you.

“Here you go, sweetie,” you bring the bottle to her lips and slowly tip it back as she takes big gulps of water. Periodically, you pull it away and let her catch her breath, then start again until she pushes it away.

“Better?”

“Much better,” she nods.

“Maybe she should go inside and cool down for a minute?” Dani suggests.

Julieta leans over to feel her forehead, “Too much sun, hija.”

“Do you wanna go inside for a minute?” You ask, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Chacha will you go with me?”

“You want me to—oh, um… should we ask your mom…?” You frown at Dani, who grimaces, then Julieta.

“Just take her,” Julieta insists, “I’ll tell Angelica if she comes looking.”

“Ok. Ok sure. Let’s go, sweetie.”

You rise from the chair, sliding Sarah to your hip, then carry her up the stairs into the house. Once inside, you sit on the couch with her for a few seconds before she wriggles away and scampers off down the hallway.

“Chacha come see my room!”

“Oh my fucking god,” you whisper under your breath, glancing nervously up at the back door before following her, “Ok, but just for a minute, then we should go back out to the party.”

—

“Are you seriously calling him?” Frankie blinks, leaning back against the workbench.

Will shoots him a look while raising the phone to his ear.

“Unbelievable. It’s like six o’clock in the morning there, you’re gonna wake—”

“Hey Pope, I’m gonna put you on speaker.” Will presses a button and sets the phone down next to Frankie, “Now I want Fish to tell you what he just told me and Benny.”

Gnashing his jaw back and forth, he stares at Will, then Benny. They both watch him expectantly while Santi speaks up, his voice groggy from sleep.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Frankie clears his throat and rubs his mouth before saying, “I’m gonna ask Ang for a divorce.”

“Oh shit, ok.”

Will prods Frankie further, “Tell him the other part.”

“Will you just—Fuck, ok. I’m… seeing someone.”

On the other line, Santi chuckles a little, “Uh-huh.“

“Any guesses on who that might be?” Benny asks.

“Oh, I have one—”

“Wait wait wait, let me give you a hint,” Benny grins while scrolling through his phone, pushing off the hood of the car to grandstand, “On June 10–only seven weeks ago, mind you—Fish said about her, and I quote: It’s not like that, we’re only friends. To which you said—”

“—I said bull-fucking-shit!” Santi finishes, then howls, “That is fucking delicious, thank you.”

Frankie crosses his arms and shakes his head at Will, “See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell him.”

“How long?” Santi asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been sleeping with her?”

“It’s… complicated, ok?”

Benny giggles and repeats, “Oh, it’s complicated.”

Santi questions further, “Sure, well, let me ask you this: How long have you been in love with her?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You do, though, right? You love her?”

Frankie crosses his arms and glares at the phone, “Yeah.”

“When did that happen?”

Heat flares through his veins. He wrings his neck and mutters, “That’s a stupid question.”

“Why’s it stupid?”

“Cuz, Pope, that’s like… that’s like asking how long ago mankind came to exist. Or asking what point a chrysalis becomes a butterfly. I don’t fucking know, man, it just does. I just know that I do, I love her, and I have for… a while.”

The two men before him are silent, along with the voice on the phone. Frankie, on the other hand, finds momentum in his confession. He continues.

“And Ang… Jesus Christ, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve felt like this with her. And the longer I think about it, the more I convince myself I never did. Not this way, like I can’t live without her, you know?” He taps his fingers against his lips, then shrugs, “Maybe I could have at one point, if I tried. But even then… I don’t like who I am when I’m with her. It doesn’t feel right. It’s like I’m wearing someone else’s skin and it doesn’t fit me.”

He glances up at Benny, then Will. Their faces are somber, but understanding. Benny approaches, leaning on the workbench beside him to rope an arm around his shoulders and give him a supportive squeeze.

“When are you gonna tell her?” Will asks.

“Soon. Not today, but this week probably.“

Benny withdraws his touch and crosses his arms in front of his chest, “She’ll go right for the jugular. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Frankie takes off his cap to run a hand through his hair, then puts it back, “She’s gonna try to take Sarah. Fuck, I’m gonna need another goddamn lawyer, aren’t I?”

“Can you afford that right now?” Will furrows his brow, studying him, “Be honest.”

“Probably. Well, maybe. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but is now the right time? You’re on parole and looking to add felony charges to your wrap sheet. Not to mention the infidelity. On paper, your custody case is shit.”

Frankie shakes his head, “If I have to keep living like this… all this lying and pretending… I don’t know, man. I can’t do it anymore. Something inside me is about to break. I can feel it.”

The Millers exchange a look.

“I don’t think I’m speaking out of line by saying we all just want what’s best for you, Fish,” the voice over the phone tells him, “We want you to be happy. If you need to get out, get out.”

Frankie glances up at Will, who nods in confirmation.

“Thanks. It-it means a lot to me,” he shifts his weight to one leg, looking down at his wristwatch, “We better get back to the party. Talk soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Santi says, “Hang in there, buddy.”

After hanging up the phone, Will gives Frankie a pat on the shoulder, “We’ve got your back.”

As they file out of the garage into the entryway, Angie walks out from the bathroom. When she notices them climbing the steps, she calls, “Hi boys.”

To his credit, Benny puts on a convincing smile and greets her with a high five, “What’s up, Angie?”

She steps aside to let him pass, then fixes her glassy eyes on Will, “How’s the carcocha looking?”

“Better than the last time we saw it,” Will shrugs, glancing over his shoulder at Frankie, “Just needs a little TLC.”

“Needs to go to the scrapyard if you ask me,” she snorts and tilts her head at her husband as he reaches the top of the stairs, “Hey handsome.”

He gives her a half-hearted smirk, then frowns, “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s fine, still playing. Francisco,” she tugs on his shirt, so he comes to a stop.

Jesus Christ, her breath smells like a brewery.

His eyes flick to the Millers stalled at the back door. After waving at them to clear out, he raises his eyebrows at Angie, “What?”

“I need your help with something.”

“Sure, what?”

Instead of answering him outright, she takes his hand and leads him down the hallway. His stomach twists with understanding when she pulls him through the doorway towards the bed.

“If you wanna lay down for a bit, I can take care of every—”

She turns to face him, placing her palms on his chest and sliding them up to his shoulders, “I want you to fuck me, Francisco.”

“Ang,” he chuckles with exasperation, shaking his head, “We have a backyard full of guests here, come on.”

“They’re all having fun, no one will notice.” She takes his hand and guides it to her face, gently folding down all his finger but the index and pouts, “Please, Frankie.”

He swallows a groan when she wraps her full lips around his digit and sucks. The wet hot plush of her mouth makes his eyelids flutter and weakens his resolve.

“I don’t think—”

She pulls his finger from her mouth like a lollipop and bats her eyelashes at him, cooing, “Don’t you wanna fuck me like you did the other night? Didn’t that feel good?”

“Well, yeah—”

“We can be quick.”

As she reaches for his belt, something moves at the edge of his vision.

“Mommy, Daddy!”

He looks at the doorway to find Sarah in the hall, holding one penguin toy in each of her pudgy toddler fists. A big, toothy grin spreads across her face and she giggles, galloping into the room.

Thankful for the diversion, Frankie smiles and takes a big step away from his wife, crouching down to ask Sarah, “Hey sweetheart, what’re you doing in here?”

“Showing Chacha my penguins,” she tells him, holding up her toys, “This one is an emperor penguin, and this one is a macaroni penguin!”

“Chacha?”

Something inside him drops to the floor. He looks up and sees you emerge from Sarah’s room. You pause briefly in the hallway, glancing at Angie before meeting his gaze. The pained look on your face rips his heart in two.

“I, umm…” you stammer, dropping your eyes to the floor and shaking your head, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just—leaving. There’s a thing and-and I have to go.”

With this, you flee down the hall, then the stairs, your footsteps still echoing heavy in his head while the front door slams shut.

—

“Whiskey coke?”

You look up from the bar top’s glossy wood finish to give Bubba a nod.

“Ain’t seen you around here in a while,” he comments while scooping ice into a glass.

“Yeah.”

It surprises you a little, how hoarse your voice sounds. A self-awareness passes over you and you straighten your spine, glancing around the bar before digging a compact mirror from your purse. By the time you finish rubbing the bleeding mascara from your swollen eyes, Bubba is placing your drink in front of you.

You exchange the mirror for your wallet, but when you fish out your card and hold it out to Bubba, he shakes his head.

“On the house.”

“What, do I get the sad sap discount?”

He chuckles a little at this, then shrugs, “If that’s what you wanna call it.”

“Thanks.”

Leaning forward onto the bar, you pull the glass closer, then stab the ice with your straw a few times. Little bubbles of carbonation fizzle up to the surface and release the gassy scent of rail whiskey. Nostalgia sours your stomach.

“Everything alright?”

A deep ache branches out from the weight beneath your sternum and curls around your shoulders. Every cell in your body feels heavy and burdensome.

Staring at the glass, you shake your head.

“I’m all ears if you wanna talk about it.”

“It’s a long, messy story.”

“I got time.”

You glance up at him, studying his concerned expression, and sigh, “You know that guy who meets me here sometimes? Brown hair, usually wearing a hat? Started a fight that one time?”

“The vet?”

“Yeah,” you nod and swallow down the thickness in your throat, then tell him, “We’ve been off and on for years. He’s, umm… he’s married. I was their nanny when it started. I fell in love with him. He made it clear he didn’t feel the same and he wouldn’t leave his wife, but I kept seeing him because I’m an idiot.”

“Sounds like you kept seeing him because you loved him, not because you’re an idiot,” Bubba observes.

“Same difference,” you shrug and tilt your head at your drink, “He’s an alcoholic. After his wife caught us fucking, he went off the rails completely. Still kept seeing him even though he kept me at an arm’s length and drank himself dumb every night. The thing is… I never believed him when he said he couldn’t love me like I loved him. I felt it, and I thought…”

Tingles work up your throat behind your eyes, and everything becomes blurry as you choke out a sob.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s ok.”

You shake your head and wipe away your tears, but they keep coming.

“I thought if I kept loving him he would see how good it could be and come around. I thought he would admit to himself that he does love me like I love him. I wanted that with him so bad, I just couldn’t fucking let go. Then, umm…”

You clear your throat and take a deep, shaky breath.

“I had to give him an ultimatum. Her or me. He picked her. I cut it off and tried to move on with my life. He called me a few months ago from jail and asked me to bail him out. I got roped into being his custodian while he’s on parole, so he’s been living with me. We agreed not to get involved in, umm, that way again.

“He’s been sober and opening up emotionally while working through this shit. It’s been really hard. But it’s also been good, you know, because we’ve had to hash out all these problems that we’ve ignored for years. I’ve been able to see the real him, and… I love him more than I ever have.”

“Uh-huh,” Bubba raises an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms above his beer belly, “So what happened that’s got you in a fuss? He still doesn’t love you back?”

The question pierces your heart.

Your voice balances a tightrope as you confess, “I thought he did. I really did this time, I was so fucking certain. He promised he would fix it, that we could be together—and I fucking believed him—”

Waves of emotion swell in your chest and flood your eyes with hot tears. You fold forward, burying your face in your hands, releasing sob after sob as you replay the last two months in your head and wonder how you could be so fucking stupid to think it was real.

The world around you melts away until it’s just you and that dense, pulsing pain. Like it’s always been. Like it always will be.

It doesn’t matter how hard you try to help him. It doesn’t matter that you love him more than anything else in this world. It doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters, because he doesn’t love you and he never will.

A hand rests on your shoulder blades and pulls you back to reality. So lost in your self-pity, you didn’t notice Bubba come around the bar to console you. You sit up and wipe your eyes, mumbling out an apology.

“It’s fine, darlin’. Can I do anything to help?”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’ll be ok.”

“You sure?”

You inhale a shattered breath and give him a weak smile, “Fifty-fifty.”

He furrows his brow and studies you for a moment before nodding, then taking a step back.

As he makes his way back to his side of the bar, you stare at your drink. A fat droplet of moisture rolls down the thick condensation lining the glass and gets swallowed up by the cardboard coaster beneath.

You wish you could forget about him.

You wish you could feel nothing.

You wish you could hurt him the way he’s hurt you.

So, you pluck out the straw, raise the cup to your lips, and start drinking.

—

The setting sun paints the wispy clouded sky above a brilliant shade of orange. Beneath his feet, the soles of Frankie’s shoes scuff against the driveway. He glances down at his mom, with her arm hooked in his, and says, “Thanks for coming out, Mamá. I hope you had a good time.”

“It was a very nice party, mijo.”

She gives him this stifled polite smile like she’s holding something back. So he prods her.

“What?”

She waves him off, “Nada nada.”

“Come on, Ma.”

They come to a stop at the driver’s side door of her car and turn to face each other. She studies him a moment, then gives in with a huff, “You have been like this all afternoon. Why?”

“Like what?”

“So stormy.”

He deflates, “Don’t worry about it.”

Her lips purse as she tilts her head at him. The ‘don’t make me smack you’ look.

“It’s messy, mom. How I’m feeling,” he wrings a hand behind his neck and shrugs, “I don’t know. Everything is a mess and it’s all my fault.”

“All your fault how? Did something happen?”

“No—well,” he catches himself, swallows, then corrects, “Yeah. I did something bad. And I lied about it. Then I got caught in the lie, and, you know…”

She nods slowly, waiting for more.

“I think I might be a bad person.”

Her expression softens when Frankie says it. She cups his cheeks and stares straight into his soul. Suddenly, he’s five years old all over again, Mamá comforting his bruised heart.

“There is a good man inside you. I know him well because he’s my son. Let him be brave.”

He absorbs this for a moment, then croaks, “Ok.”

“Give me a hug.”

He hunches over to hug her, burying his face in her neck, “Quiero mucho, mamá.”

“Yo a ti,” she squeezes him, then pulls back and asks, “Will you call me tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

He waits for her to get in her car and drive away before returning to the house. Inside, he finds Sarah and Benny reading a book on the couch, while the siren song of the party still roaring out back rubs at his nerves.

Frankie pulls out his phone to confirm you, predictably and rightfully, did not respond to his messages or calls. Reconciling with you will be a fucking nightmare. Going home to face the consequences seems less appealing with each passing second.

He starts to consider other options.

He could stay and drink. Join the party. Doubtful that Angie or any of her people would give a shit. Hell, they would probably encourage him.

Better yet, he could stay and drink by himself in the garage. There’s enough booze laying around, nobody would notice if he drained a bottle or two in order to reach that blissful numb.

He plops down on the couch next to Sarah and brings his attention to Benny’s reading.

“—‘Now stop!’ Max said and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all. Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.

But the wild things cried, ‘Oh please don’t go—we’ll eat you up—we love you so!’ And Max said, ‘No!’ The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye… and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day… and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him… and it was still hot.”

Benny flips the paperback closed and looks down at Sarah, who yawns and rubs her eyes, then to her father.

“Still want that ride home?”

Frankie considers this for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Let me put her to bed and talk to Ang, then we can take off.”

#designated person #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x ofc #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales angst #x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fic

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animentality · 4 months

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balthazar says that the dark urge would've chosen death over being kept alive in disgrace, and I wanna talk about that for a second.

they had their skull split open, they were being dissected alive every night, they beat their head against the glass until they were bleeding. they hurt themselves and others. they kept dying and being resurrected, until their brain was in pieces, a fractured and broken thing, with no memories of what they were like before. an annihilation more total than death.

in the prayer of forgiveness that balthazar was hoarding, the dark urge mentions the beauty of obliteration.

in razing the rotten world into a mangled corpse and then throwing yourself upon the piles of dead, and slitting your own throat last.

I just think about how... the dark urge as a person was cruel and malicious and lashed out at every living thing, desiring carnage and death...but not just for everyone they came in contact with.

for themselves too.

and it goes along with one of the many themes of baldur's gate, you know, choosing your own destruction.

Karlach's heart blows up because she chooses not to return to Avernus, Gale dies trying to take the crown of Karsus, Lae'zel allows herself to be consumed by Vlaakith, Astarion loses himself and will never be the man he once was, or even a man at all, Wyll pledges his life to Mizora again, and thus destroys his agency and free will, Shadowheart literally dedicates her life to the god of obliteration and loss, etc.

and it makes sense to me, then, to say that the dark urge's entire outlook would hinge on them having no regard for life, not even their own.

but honestly?

in a weird dark way... that's kind of uplifting.

because someone as horrible as the dark urge... they fucking deserved to die.

but maybe that's a redeeming quality about them. a foul, evil creature, embracing death and total self destruction?

well. in the non dark urge playthroughs, they die. they die and their rotten legacy will be undone. the world is purged of them.

but in the dark urge playthroughs where you choose to be good?

they got that second chance, because they embraced self destruction.

but unlike the other origin characters... they were someone who needed to be destroyed. who could be remade.

and that's neat to me.

every other character has a descent to villainy arc, when you choose the bad ending. the dark urge is inverted.

the dark urge was a villain, who can ascend to heroism, and self destruction is their good ending.

the dark urge was the villain before the story even began.

and what is it that all villains should do?

die, of course.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dark urge #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #shadowheart #lae'zel

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bluginkgo · 5 months

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I haven't seen this brought up often. Maybe I'm just not looking in the right places, but... in the teaser for episodes 7 and 8, something doesn't make sense.

It's the Absolute Solver's laughter.

Spoiler, duh

Up until now, when we see Absolute Solver doing something, it sounded it out. For example:

When "N" attacked eldrich J, it said, "Claw swipe. Snarl." As it did those motions.

Then, "Climbing, criss cross apple sauce." As Cyn climbed up.

Even doing, in my opinion, one of the best lines: "Tantrum. Brain blast."

And of course the classic "Well-timed giggle."

All of these instances, the Absolute Solver accompanied its motions with dialogue as it did that movement.

So I'm confused as to why in the teaser (0:33 roughly) the Absolute Solver says: "Hahahaha, thanks for giving me the planet. Fricking idiot."

I actually wanna dissect that single line quite a lot.

First and foremost, why is it "Hahaha" instead of say "Evil laughter." I could only come up with a handful of ideas.

1. It's the Absolute Solver. Somehow it evolved to the point where it now can express emotions instead of just sounding it out.

2. It's the Absolute Solver. But it's possessing something (AHEM- Tessa- AHEM) that allows it to express emotions better than Cyn could allow it.

3. It's not the Absolute Solver. Instead, it's something or someone completely new/or perhaps someone we already know from the show but is only now revealing their identity.

4. It's just a trailer, you're looking in too deep. That could also be a possibility. Given that we see only black screen when the line happens, glitchproductions might have thought that it would be better for us to hear laughter instead of a bland line of just "insert evil laughter." Issue here for me is... I don't think that's the case cause Liam is very detailed. Every d*mn frame in this show is a foreshadowing. That has to apply to voice lines, too. (AHEM, looking at you "robo-satan, robo-Jesus, and robo-god.")

There is a similar sounding laughter at 1:01, just after N yells "V, come on!" But it's highly likely that was not Absolute Solver, and instead some other character we've already heard- be it V, Uzi, J, etc.

Then next question would be: who is the fricking idiot? Once again, I've got some (unhinged) ideas.

1. Uzi, would make sense. She's slowly succumbing to the Absolute Solver's control. If she makes one miss step, it's all over. So Absolute Solver could be directly speaking to Uzi in her mind, like a little shoulder robo-satan/demon.

2. N, could also be him. On the bad ending trend, Uzi could lose herself and Absolute Solver. And just like Tessa said, N would have to choose between one little drone and the universe. If N chooses Uzi, the Absolute Solver could easily speak through Uzi and mock him for giving up the planet and the universe.

3. Tessa, here I'll have to branch out. It could be the current Tessa. Her actions might lead to Copper-9's fall and the Absolute Solver will rub it in her face. OR, this could be another flashback. The Absolute Solver could be talking to a younger Tessa back at the mansion, as some past action made the Absolute Solver start taking control over universes and not just the Elliot mansion.

4. Nori. Omg, Ginkgo you're getting out of hand. Yup, welcome nothing new here. We did get this shot from glitchproductions right after we got the teaser.

Many are speculating that Yeva and Nori are not dead and could be coming back to help our gang out. Thaaaaat'll have to be a separate rant on my side. But with this image, I'm taking Nori into the group of possible "fricking idiot"s.

Given how confident Nori looks here, she must have had excellent control over the Absolute Solver before being completely possessed. Perhaps the screenshot of Yeva and Nori that we're given is a flashback scene. Nori might have done something that essentially doomed Copper-9 from the start.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my rant. Let me know if you guys have some other thoughts. Cause personally, I'm pretty stumped on the laughter part.

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hotluncheddie · 7 months

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🍓🍓

this is honestly kinda random but my part two of the @thefreakandthehair summer fic challenge is done!!! so pretend it’s summer and not halloween, these boys r bring goofy all year round!

prompt: picking berries | cw: none | rated: G | part 2/2 | tags: disaster gays steve& eddie. besties robin & steve. jeff is an angel.

read part 1 here!

‘rob? um. is it gay to take your male friend berry picking’ steve asks while he’s pushing the full returns kart over to the romance section. he feels his eyebrows scrunch as he tries to read the labels on the tapes.

‘uh’ comes robins faint reply from where she’s slumped on the counter.. not helpful.

‘if uh. what if he really likes strawberries. like so so much.’ steve asks, focusing on trying to read the tapes even harder as he feels his neck get warm the longer he hears no reply.

‘no right? no, i don’t think so. it’s like friendly bonding. totally wholesome.’ steve gives up on the tapes. coming around to stare at robin across the counter. he gnaws on his cuticle and stares at her eyeballs so hard he goes cross eyed.

‘what the fuck’ robin whispers ‘it’s 9 in the morning’

‘robinnnnn’ steve whines because she not helping and he needs her to help, like so much, like right now.

‘ok ok! ask me again.’ she demands, finally looking alive and like she’ll actually fulfil her best friend duties like he needs.

steve takes a deep breath. ‘is it gay to…’

‘yes.’ robin interrupts before he can finish.

steve opens and closes his mouth a couple times. his mind is blank. blank except for an image of eddie and an image of a strawberry and an intense need in his gut to have the two connect.

‘shit’ steve rubs his hand down his face.

‘fraid so, it’s super gay and i hate to be the one to break it to ya.’ robin pats him on the shoulder, genuinely looking like she feels sorry for him. until her face shifts into a grin that’s a touch feral. ‘your crush on eddie is officially terminal.’

steve feels the heat on his neck slither up and bite at his cheeks. ‘who, uh, who said it was eddie?’

‘oh come on steve! i’m your best friend i see how you look at him.’ robin laments, rolling her eyes with her whole body, instantly calling his paper thin bluff.

steve groans, pushes away from the counter and starts pacing ‘ugh okay yes fine! i wanna take eddie on a gay strawberry date and make him smile and hold his hand and other stuff and, and im kinda freaking out here rob!’ steve feels frazzled. he cards a hand through his hair and tuggs.

‘okay. okay! it’s fine see, it’s fine.’ robin says, giving steve two big thumbs up and a smile that does nothing to hide the panic in her eyes. steve whines again and goes back to pacing.

‘uhhh okay! is this gay stress or eddie specific stress?’ robin joins him in pacing but she stays behind the counter. ‘because i know we talked about that kid in camp and you had a lot to say about that one guy you saw at a swim meet and then when we watched blade runner you talked over it a lot like normal but also got like really quiet when harrison ford was all kinda sweaty and stuff.’ robin finally takes a breath and turn back to face steve who is gaping at her. he feels like she just dissected his brain like it was a frog.

‘so i feel like we discussed the whole’ robin flails her arms up and down his general being. ‘bi thing. so i’m thinking this is more a like eddie specific freak out and so, like, shut the fuck up actually? hes obsessed with you steve!’ robin finishes, finally.

‘who’s obsessed with steve?’ eddie’s asks. because eddie’s there now. flanked by the three corroded coffin boys, all looking at steve like he’s something to be wary of.

‘uh’ robin and steve say in unison.

‘kieth!’ robin shouts with way too much enthusiasm for their manager who barely does his job. ‘yeah, ha. he’s been doing the schedules so the two of them overlap like, all the time. steve here always figured the guy hated him but, uh, times they do be a changing. yeah, he’s to-totally obsessed.’ robin smiles way too big and steve can only match it. staring at her, trying to make her shut. up. using only his minimal bran power.

‘oooh’ eddie says because he’s an angel who would never make fun of robin even if she’s being super weird.

‘uh, we’re gonna go look at the sci-fi section ed’s.’ Gareth says, his face one of confusion and maybe a little bit of fear.

‘buckley. harrington.’ jeff says nodding his head in acknowledgment of the two before they all wonder off. gareth and (unnamed freak) repeat the motion and follow.

huh. that’s good. eddie’s friends are taking longer than most to thaw to steve. he gets it, but, still, sometimes it stings.

‘cool yeah.’ eddie says watching them slip away. ‘movie day.’ eddie explains, smiling so big his eyes squish into little crescents, bouncing on his toes.

steve feels his actual heart clench. like god himself is reaching into his chest and squeezing it.

‘that’s great man’ steve says, voice coming out breathy but eddie’s smile only brightens further when their eyes lock. so steve has to spend a second remembering to breath in again.

‘you want to join? oh uh. i mean. you can’t. your working.’ eddie babbles, slowly going strawberry red. ‘and like, i know you don’t love horror and stuff and that’s kinda the vibe we’re going for so, maybe um, maybe some other time. a time your not working but when it’s not like alien over and over. uh yeah.’

‘doyouwanttogoberrypicking. with me?’ steve blurts. feeling his whole head heat up and run down his chest. he clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

eddie looks shocked, eyes so big and confused and pretty.

but before steve knows it, the sun peaks over the mountains and the corners of eddie’s mouth curl into a grin that’s so delighted steve’s toes almost curl.

‘yeah. course i would.’ eddie says, so softly, so shyly through his still strawberry red smile..

‘hopeless am i right?’ jeff says as he steps over to the counter next to robin.

they’re both gawking at the two fumbling through making a plan. all pink cheeked and goofy.

‘hopeless.’ robin confirms, rolling her eyes and going back o actually doing her job. she smiles down at the tape in her hand.

#they go on the date and hold hands!!!#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #steddie #hotlunch #stobin #my fic #<3 #it took so long to end this #i hope it’s fun

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spread-the-influence · 4 months

Note

//FOR MOD BEE

how aware is ragatha generally while the influence has the usual level of control?

the influence while in control of the body displays the host, ragathas, personality and mannerisms, albeit imperfectly, and ofc as a mask.

is that purely the virus entity trying to emulate the personality of the host, or is it more the host still speaking and reacting, but with percpetion/personality heavily influenced by the virus?

(sorry for the long ask and dw about answering it if its in spoiler territory, also everything else bellow is just rambling thoughts on this blog and atrg that i just wanted to share.)

im just really really intersted in how it looks like or feels like inside ragathas head, like, how much of the virus' influence does she consider to be part of herself, such interesting directions we can explore in terms of whats going on in ragathas head

also, just wanna say, I LOVE your interpretation of ragatha in general and this entire influence situation is SUCH a fun way to explore her psyche :D it just makes my brain buzz in the best way, the influence has been stuck in my head for the last few weeks.

really excited to see what else you have in store for breaking open and showing off whatevers going on in that ragdolls head. gotta love a thorough dissection and deconstruction of a characters personhood and ego :D made all the better by how DELICIOUS your angst is for rags

uh yeah, again sorry for the kilometer long post, have a great day/night! //

-robot anon

// i seriously don't know how to explain it well ... a weird mix of both ? unaware enough to be compliant and not fully comprehend what's going on , but aware enough that you know there's something deeply wrong no matter how much these funny voices in your head tell you otherwise .

other than that , the virus is always in control which i hope is clear when that happens here ^^;

also thank you ! character studies underneath layers of angst have always been my favorite thing to write , especially since i couldn't find a lot of that kind of thing for rags . sorry ragatha someone has to create it LMAO //

#[ ooc ]#[ info ]

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lackablazeical · 1 year

Text

Addams! AU snippet 2: 'Lab'

FULL CREDIT TO WRITER NewFallenLeaves ON A03! SHE IS THE BIGGEST SUPPORTER OF THIS AU, AND IS INCREDIBLY TALENTED AND SWEET. GIVE HER A COMMENT, KUDO, SHARE, WHATEVER. MAKE HER DAY JUST A BIT BETTER, SHE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE!

This specific snippet had actually been inspired by some art! Im pretty sure I've posted it before, but might as well also include it too! (It is pretty old, forgive meeeee LOL)

Full snippet below the cut! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

-----

Donnie had the setup exactly how he wanted.

The rat specimen was pinned to the exam table, paws impaled and spread. Its belly fur was scraped clear and the bloated, pink flesh exposed. It had died in the trap before Donnie could get to it (thank you, Mikey, for setting the couch on fire again and delaying him.) So no vivisection. But that was fine, dissection was the next best thing. Especially of a pregnant rat, oh, giddy grin, he was going to get a whole clutter of partially-developed babies to experiment on! And with Mikey and Raph off in the tunnels and Leo traipsing around the Hidden City somewhere, Donnie finally had a quiet afternoon to himself.

He intended to make the most of it.

Swiveling the lamp so the lighting beamed down on the specimen, he curled his fingers in anticipation. The mechanical scalpel joint lined up just at the top of the rat’s throat, where he could cut a straight line to open the abdomen–

“Donnieeeeeeeeee!”

Leo burst through the double doors. He waltzed across the room and flung himself over the dissection table, swooning like a lady in the throes of a fainting spell.

“Wha–” Donnie grabbed for his tray of needles and surgical knives before it upended and strewed across the floor. “Nardo! You’re squishing my specimen!”

Leo fixed him with a dreamy, half-lidded gaze. “I just met somebody.”

Donnie glowered. This was the reason Leo had barged into his lab? To annoy him with ceaseless gushing over some new simpleton he’d decided to pursue?

“You’ll never believe it,” said Leo. “I rescued him instead of mugged him.”

Donnie shook the table. “Didn’t you hear me? Get off.”

“He was cornered. By two smelly thugs. They had these adorable little switch knives, trying to be all intimidating. Donnie, I’m telling you, it would have been pathetic that he got himself hemmed in like that, if his cowering wasn’t so adorable.”

“Nardo…”

“You should have seen how cute his face was, all covered in blood!” Leo kicked his feet. “Oh, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry, don’t worry, you’ll be so proud of me, I only licked him a little–”

“I don’t have time for this–”

“--so I’m sure he knows I’m a gentleman. Oh, it was such a good thing I was there, those brutes were so unsophisticated, they wouldn’t have done anything right–”

“Oh my god would you just shut up!” Donnie dragged his hands down his face, opening a sliver on his cheek as the scalpel on his finger caught flesh. “What level of disinterest and indignation do I need to achieve before you get it through your addled brain? I do not care.”

Leo’s smirk never wavered. He held up his hand, smudged deep with red, and waggled his fingers. “Wanna sample?”

Donnie opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. He peered a little closer at the smear of not-yet-coagulated blood. “...it was a yokai?”

“Mmm-hmmmm.”

“What type?”

“One you don’t have any blood work for yet.” Leo’s grin widened. “Rabbit. Or bunny. If there’s a difference.”

The swab was in Donnie’s hand before he realized he’d made the decision to reach for one. He soaked up a dribble from Leo’s wrist and snagged a clean Petri dish. “Of course there’s no difference, why do you think the combination term ‘bunny rabbit’ exists? It’s a hare that comes from another genus. And what do you want, huh? You don’t just saunter in here and offer me free DNA for my trials for nothing.”

“Can’t I help my dear brother with his evil lab experiments out of the goodness of my heart?”

“As if you have one.”

Leo dissolved into giggles.

Donnie capped the dish and pulled a fresh label from the drawer. “So? Spill. What am I beholden to you for after this oh-so-generous and selfless donation?”

“Oh, you know. Age, blood type, zodiac sign, debilitating allergies or hypersensitivities. Aaaand if you happen to match those to any particular medical records and it leads to a place of employment or a home address…”

“Don’t you have enough stalking victims already?”

Leo hopped off the metal slab and pirouetted his way out the door. “No such thing.”

#addams! tmnt au #rottmnt au #rottmnt #leo rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #cw dissection #cw animal cruelty #cw animal death #cw pregnancy mention #tmnt au #rottmnt fic #addams! leosagi #NewFallenLeaves #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt art

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hellogoodbyeben · 2 years

Text

Diego trying to be a good brother and make his sister feel better by taking her out to go beat the fuck out of some gross old racists is incredibly funny and smart and so very vigilante of him he’s just so interesting i wanna dissect this funny little man’s brain like a frog in an 8th grade science classroom

#they really kicked ass together i loved it #the lil heart to heart and banter in the car was really cute too #more of those two please #the umbrella academy #tua s3 spoilers #tua s3 #the umbrella academy spoilers #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves

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limelyrics · 5 months

Text

Deep Cover/ディープカバー

Under

It’s all the same, that worthless dependence

Under

That need for warmth that lowers your defenses

Useless now, and useless then

You're so damn full of it, you're full of it, the worst and

Under

It still won't change, the queen will play her own game

Under

We stay the same, yet stealing for our own gain

Useless now, and useless then

And yet you love them and you're trying to make amends

So weigh the scales in your brain

Show me who’s wrong and take aim

That's why I swore that I would always have your back

Be the fanged hero on the attack

Fixed the problems that you couldn't fix

So why then, oh, why then did it come to this?

Don't stop me! Leave me be!

I need a reason to dish justice, can’t you see?

Inform me and warm me

Give me the solemn purpose I need

Under

Hiding from light, greedy, in spite of your conscience

But in the night, praying the righteous can imprint

Useless now, and useless then

Do you remember what you’re doing this for, instead

Under

He can't be found, chained and bound in his memories

Under

You wanna play? I’ll show you justice with ease

Useless now, and useless then

Let's knock the door down and begin!

So be my reason, be my motivating task

Don't you see? Pity’s just there to distract

Can't you hate evil for what it is?

Can’t you make the choice to not forgive?

Don't stop me! Leave me be!

I need a reason to dish justice, can’t you see?

Inform me and warm me

Give me the solemn purpose I need

Under

I wanna find the justice I’ve been seeking

I wanna crush the evil I’ve been reaping

Useless now, and useless then

Count on me and I’ll defend

That's why I swore that I would always have your back

Be the fanged hero on the attack

Fixed the problems that you couldn't fix

So why then, oh, why then did it come to this?

Don't stop me! Leave me be!

I need a reason to dish justice, can’t you see?

Inform me and warm me

Give me the solemn purpose I need

Let me be! I’m not weak!

Give me the solemn purpose I need

Under

You think you’ve 1, you worthless parasite?

Under

That vulgar slut needs someone 2 hold tight

Under

It’s easy 4 me to see through her lies

Under

5fold suffering, dissecting what is alive

Under

7’s a liar, acting in a kyōgen*

Under

See that warden, that useless eleven

Useless now, and useless then

You all depress me now, you’re all so damn annoying

*Kyōgen (狂言) is a traditional comic Japanese theatrical form that is usually performed in between Nō plays. In Cat, the word kyōgen (狂言) is used to refer to the theatrical form, whereas in Deep Cover, the word used is kyogen (虚言), meaning liar.

#translyrics #vocaloid #lime's translyrics #vocaloid song #hatsune miku #deco*27 #milgram #yuzuriha kotoko #kotoko yuzuriha

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butmakeitgayblog · 1 year

Note

So I'm relatively new to the fandom, and during my stay in this rabbit hole, that is, Clexa, I've got a few questions that I'm hoping you could answer :)

Why is everyone here pro-Lexa? Like don't get me wrong I absolutely love Lexa as a character and Alycia is a queen, but why all the hate towards some of the other characters, like Bellamy? I've never watched The 100 the whole way through (literally exited outta the show the second Lexa died), even then, it's been years since I watched it. Did I miss something while I was binge-watching, or was my teenage brain at the time just too immature to realize he was a total jackass..? Also, it's not just Bellamy, I've also seen hate for Bob, the actor who plays him. Which brings me to another question: does this fandom not like Eliza? I always see so much support when Alycia has an upcoming project or is posting Instagram updates but nothing for Eliza? Again, no judgment for the Alycia love because I completely understand why everyone here is head over heels in love with that girl but I just wanted to know, has Eliza ever done anything wrong? Or have I just conveniently only stumbled upon Alycia stans on this app?

Anyway, a totally unrelated note but since I'm here… may I just say ma'am, your writing is the bomb diggity. Like the perfect blend of humor, sexiness, angst, and fluff, THE GODDAMN FLUFF. Genius, you're a genius, like a mad scientist of Clexa fanfic. Hope you keep doing what you're doing, my friend. Take your time though, and don't listen to those ignorant anons that are crawling around yelling "wHy ArE yOu TaKiNg So LoNg To UpDaTe?" Thank you for writing for the Clexa fandom! ❤️

First I wanna say thank you for the sweet words and reading, that means so much to me 🥹💕 not to be a nerd but I screenshot that for one of my worse imposter syndrome days lol

Long post so you can read under the cut. Long time clexas you can just skip if you want because honestly I got annoyed all over again just typing it and you know it all already 🥴

Now right off the top, you don't have to hate Bellamy if you don't want to. It's not like that's a prereq for being a clexa, so if you like him, like him and don't worry about what anyone says. He's a fictional character so anyone who gets intense over someone liking him I think needs to take a walk.

But the reason why a lot of Clexas, myself included, hate him is somewhat of a two part answer. The main reason being is that his character is trash 😅. I mean I'm not gonna dissect every little bit of canon but the main points for me at least, since I can't speak for anyone else, are that he was constantly fucking up literally everything. He gets to earth, proclaims "tHeRe aRe nO RuLeS" and then,,, immediately declares himself the leader and starts forcing people to follow what he says. He literally almost let Clarke fall into a pit of spikes, tried to handcuff her and keep her hostage "for her own good", he spearheaded the whole thing with taking off their wristbands, HE BACKED PIKE, participated in the massacre of a peaceful army sent to protect skaikru, he constantly shamed and blamed Clarke for everything that ever went wrong even when a lot of that stuff was either the best solution in a bad situation OR was an indirect fallout from something fucked up that skaikru had done. The sweaty little fucker was always trying to control/manipulate Clarke and skaikru and his own damn sister despite the fact that everything he ever planned himself turning out to be: A Terrible Idea. Basically the dude sucked but was held up on spindles of glorification as being this heroic uwu soft boy that wasn't actually supported by any one damn thing in canon when you actually look at it objectively. And I'm sure I'm even forgetting stuff. The dude just sucked.

Agian, that's my own two cents.

The other reason being, it's rollover from having to deal with blarks. Their constant harassment and shoving their fanon, non-existent ship down everyone's throat, while being entitled little brats throwing tantrums about them not happening at every turn has led from what probably would've been just a mild distaste for a character for most into loathing even the name. Understand I'm not saying the word harassment lightly. They were awful for years. Death threats and homophobia, spamming inboxes with hateful messages and sending awful pictures/memes etc. One even sent EJT a dick pic with Blark written on their penis. They sent memes non-stop about Lexa dying when people were still reeling from it. I'm not saying all Blarks are bad because they're not, but there was enough harassment and viciousness from a large enough and loud enough faction that at a certain point it becomes a blanket feeling of animosity toward the entire ship and everything that follows it.

As for disliking EJT. In reality, she used to be the fandom favorite. I mean she was our girl because she used to champion us and was hilarious about it. Go look up old cons and interviews with her. She was funny and great. Once upon a time E was our biggest cheerleader and dealt with A Lot of abuse and harassment from The Other fandom for it. I'm talking body shaming, slut shaming, comments about her intelligence, sexual harassment and trolling her about her boyfriends and very descriptive messages about how they wanted her to harm herself. The list goes on. And no one, especially not Bob who was the golden boy for The Other fandom, ever said a word in her defense. Never told his fans to stop or that he condemned it. Ever. Not once. That never sat well with clexas, but you can't control what other people do.

We had her back anyway. So, it was whatever. Gross, but whatever.

And then she married Bob. Which, and Blarks cannot seem to wrap their heads around this fact, literally no cared about. She could've just married him and kept being the same person and no one would've cared. In fact, the way this fandom loved her, at first everyone was like hmmm weird and sudden but good for her I guess! Be happy!

But then Bob's ex came forward with very serious allegations about her past relationship with him. She released a statement that you can easily find online and from that it painted a very dark picture of things that involved both him and EJT. As I'm someone who believes victims, I have no reason not to believe her, and since the very bizarre (non) rebuttal that EJT posted in reply made zero sense, that was that. It changed the lens of how a lot of people started looking at her.

Which leads me to the charities.

Hear a collective Clexa sigh.

They're a saga in themselves, but to sum it up as short as possible, EJT had been a part of a children's organization for YEARS that she herself helped set up. Clexas raised a lot of money for this charity through fundraising and selling fanart and we really cared about it. And literally within months of them being married, he became involved in it, and then shortly thereafter, magically they both had to "step away from it" for dubiously explained reasons. (Which, if you read his ex's statement, logical deduction of what probably actually happened will make more sense than what they claimed, and not in a good way.) Sensibly, they started recieving backlash from supporters because, again a lot of people had been helping this charity for years and all of a sudden she was just gone from it and all the projects were halted. I'm not blaming solely her for anything but to just cut and run like she did was sus to say the least.

So to steer away from that shitshow, they started another charity. With a bunch of right-wing MAGA nuts. Yeah. They weren't open or transparent about anything, no records of where any of the money was going, iirc no real legitimate charity registration/tax documentation that anyone could find (and in the US that's all public info sooooooo). It was a total clusterfuck that people started calling them out on from the start. At first they tried to ignore it and just keep collecting money by doing these ridiculous cameos as cash grabs, but just like the first charity, after a while (and a lot of initially unaccounted for money being raised) the poor little darlings just had to "step away for mental health reasons."

Which I would accept and support wholeheartedly because mental health is extremely serious... except funnily, they didn't stop doing the cameos. They kept doing those and charging their fans money to listen to them blather on about made up ~behind the scenes info~ about Blark stuff and it being super secretly canon but for a million reasons that they don't know and can't name, stopped it from happening. Claims of love scenes and kisses that have never been backed up by evidence (like a script) or corroborated by a single person involved in the show. But it's totally true guys, just trust them bro. So yeah, they've kept doing all that. Just... not giving the money they're charging for the cameos to their "charity."

So that's the meat of it, I might be forgetting things and smudging some finer details because it's been a long while ago, but I think you can get the gist. People don't like Bob because he was an ass to fans and EJT herself before them even getting married. He's said ableist things and quoted racists trying to sound smart and never once apologized for anything. He's been accused of abuse in his personal life and has never addressed it, only made his wife write a terrible fanfiction-esque response to appease his ardent followers. And frankly, she pissed off her fans. Once she married him, she completely flipped her personality from a funny charity doing, body positivity leading, cheerleading about "Clexa are soulmates" and "Lexa is the love of Clarke's life" girl, to doing personal cash grabs constantly while spewing all this made up Blark garbage that directly contradicts things they've both said in the past to please her faithful paying cameo fans (read his fans).

It's all left a lot of people with a bad taste in their mouth, to say the least.

And ya best believe if Alycia does some crazy shit, I'll turn on her too 🤷‍♀️ but honestly I'm not too worried about that cuz the girl is a cryptid who you literally can't pay to go to cons or do cameos

#anon #long post #again #not interested in starting discourse I'm just answering an ask as I see it

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jello-bbq · 1 year

Text

Accidents

(Platonic! Tsu'tey x Avatar! Reader) (Platonic! Jake x Avatar! Reader)

(2.6 k)

Injuries and near death experiences. Timeskip because I cannot write slowburn. Angst coming up next I think.

They had no idea what to do. What could they do?

Jake and Neytiri were having lessons somewhere in the tree. The only two people they could safely interact with. Technically, a third, awkward option presented itself.

After the healer's tent, he followed them out. And continued following them as they walked around to pass the time. Which they thought completely unnecessary. But still, they could understand the need to hover. To make sure they wouldn't cause trouble around the people.

People still steered their children away when they came close, so they tried their best to keep off the main pathways.

They looked back and surely, there he was, walking a few feet away.

They pressed the cloth to their nose again, finding that the blood had lessened considerably. They would have to thank Zeyko the next time they saw her, which would definitely be soon.

After a few minutes, Tsu'tey caught up with them, silently holding out a yellow fruit.

The two ate as they walked to no place in particular. At least to them. Tsu'tey began to steer them somewhere. They didn't question it, though a part of their mind rang alarm bells and yelled 'now he's gonna kill you!'

Having been wrong three times, they could give him the benefit of the doubt.

Neither spoke as they veered off the paths. The branches looked visibly less managed than the pathways, with tall ferns getting thicker and thicker as they went.

They had to admit, it would have been a good place to die.

He took the lead when the branches became too narrow for them to walk side by side. Every now and then he would glance back as if to confirm they were still there.

His glances were hardly noticed. The ferns kept their attention.

They kept looking around, marveling at the multi-colored plants and wondering how everything looked at night. They would find out soon, realizing that eclipse had begun.

They stopped, mesmerized, forgetting that Tsu'tey seemed to be leading them somewhere. He stopped, realizing they were no longer following.

They didn't even realize he had come back and sat down beside their legs until he spoke.

"It is beautiful."

Their brows furrowed. One unusual display of care after another. Nevertheless, they took a seat on the branch, a safe distance away.

"It is."

The two sat at the edge, feet dangling, watching the sky together. Blue gave way to orange. Orange caressed pink. The sun sank over the moon's horizon and the forest lit up, replacing one beauty for another.

Tommy would've loved this, they thought. He hadn't quite left their mind since morning.

A few minutes after dark Tsu'tey led them to dinner.

"What's with the bandages?" Jake sat next to them, keen on making small talk after spending the day apart.

They, who had been dissecting the Tsu'tey thing, thinking about Tommy, and whose brain had been on Na'vi mode the whole day, did not understand his question.

"What?"

He pointed to their fingers. "That. You hurt yourself?"

"On the bow, yeah." They answered. "Ripped my skin open." They stretched their fingers, letting Jake take their hand and examine it.

"Gotta be more careful with that, kid. Don't wanna be making too many trips to the healers."

"Says the guy who has bruises all over. I'm surprised you aren't wrapped in a giant band-aid."

"Nah, the healer said it'd cover my handsome face. Would hurt all the ladies." He didn't let go of their fingers, fiddling with the ends of the bandages.

"Oh please, white boy. She did not say that." They leaned against him, starting to feel the effects of the bow training and blood loss. "I'm sure Zeyko would have smacked you for having so many bruises."

"You know the healer's name?"

They shrugged. "She told me."

Jake chuckled, noting their sudden lethargy. "Look at you making friends so quickly."

"Haven't you noticed Tsu'tey and me? We're practically besties." They murmured, lacking that usual bite.

He didn't need to ask what was wrong. They hadn't held back on telling him much after they landed on Pandora. But he asked anyway. "You missing him?"

"Yeah, just-" They motioned vaguely.

"I know, kid." Jake sighed. "He would've loved it here."

"Would have had to drag him out of the forest by his tail."

The two laughed quietly.

Neytiri and Tsu'tey seemed to notice the sudden drop in mood and their empty bowls. Some people began to retire for the night, and they made to do the same.

They followed, talking with Jake in whispers. He immediately took the empty hammock beside Neytiri again, bidding them goodnight as they moved farther away to their usual spot and laid down.

To their surprise, someone moved into the hammock beside them. With the dim light of the moss, they could barely make out the person's features.

"Sleeping alone is not good for your health."

"Zeyko?"

"You have much to live for. I can feel it. Eywa wills it."

They laughed bitterly. "I'm surprised I'm not dead yet."

They waited for something else, something to clarify her words. But only light snoring came.

They resisted the urge to sigh. Eywa wills it. Had she willed for Tommy to die?

They laid back and closed their eyes, opening them again to be faced with the pod's gel-like inside. The lid opened. Grace greeted them with a smile and an unspoken question.

"I had bow training today." They lifted their hand to show the bandages, only to remember that they couldn't. They shook their head. "Ripped my fingers open."

"Geez, keep the bloodshed to a minimum. You're already bleeding too much as it is." She knelt down to pull the tampon from their nose.

"That was very uncomfortable." They scrunched and unscrunched their nose. "But better than choking on my own blood."

Grace laughed. "Dinner and then bed, kiddo."

"Yes mum," they joked quietly, standing up and making their way to the canteen.

Switching bodies always felt weird. Two bodies. Two wildly different environments. One consciousness. At least both bodies had the same amount of limbs, excluding the tail.

As they walked the halls they could almost feel it swishing behind them except of course it wasn't. The scientists had come up with a name for it. Phantom Tail Syndrome.

Only one person sat in the canteen, a tray opposite him.

They smiled. "Thought you would have talked to Neytiri for a while."

Jake smiled back at them, straightening up at their voice. "Thought you'd be earlier." He motioned to the tray. "Food's getting cold."

They took a spoon. "I'm taking your yogurt."

"I'm taking your jerky."

°•°••°•°••°•°••°•°

The days faded into weeks. Weeks passed into months.

Their days had a set routine now. Wake up, eat breakfast, get in the pod. Eat breakfast again. Go early hunting with Tsu'tey.

Archery lessons. Lunch. Direhorse riding. Practice for the upcoming possible iknimaya. Get back to hometree in time to watch the eclipse with Tsu'tey. Dinner. Sleep.

Wake up in the link pod, eat dinner again. Go to bed.

Jake had much of the same schedule. Though his early mornings held Na'vi lessons instead of hunting.

The people had slowly become less high-strung around them. A kid named Li'yek had begun looking for them before they slept, asking them questions about earth.

Zeyko still slept on the hammock beside them, never elaborating on her words but instead commenting on whatever new injury they'd acquired that day.

On one particular day, they thought it would follow the same routine.

"What's for breakfast today?" They caught the yellow fruit thrown their way. "Oh."

"Oh?" Tsu'tey mocked, going back to sharpening his arrows for the morning hunt.

"You have no originality." They referred to his mocking and to the yellow fruit which, while tasty they had been having for breakfast for weeks now.

He shook his head slightly, ever too refined to just roll his eyes. They took a seat beside him and bit into the fruit.

"There is some dried meat in my pouch." He nodded over to the leather satchel hanging from a branch.

They grinned, finishing off the last of the yellow fruit and getting up to fish the meat out of the pouch. "What are we hunting today?"

"We are not hunting today."

"What?" They offered him the net of dried meat. He took a piece and bit on it before going back to sharpening again. "Someone else is? When's the last time you weren't on morning hunting duty?"

"A while."

They ate half the meat before tucking it back into the pouch. "Can I go back to sleep then?"

"No, ready the direhorses."

"But," they paused, "I thought we weren't hunting today?"

"We are not." He held up an arrow, watching it glint in the light. They realized it had different markings than his usual arrows. "You are."

"But- huh?" That would mean taking a clean kill. And a clean kill meant the start of iknimaya. "Jake isn't getting a clean kill yet."

"Mo'at has decided it will be you who goes first." He looked at them and smiled softly. "You are ready. Now go get the direhorses."

They were ready. That's what they kept telling themselves as they walked through the branches without noise. A herd of hexapedes below them.

Tsu'tey stood beside them, holding his spear. Before the two reached the forest, they had asked him why he needed it.

"To protect you should something try to kill you. Or to kill you out of mercy should you manage to get the neurotoxin into your blood."

They had rolled their eyes at that, shoving him as he laughed.

He couldn't laugh now. He looked completely serious, letting them do it completely on their own.

They pulled the string all the way back, breathing evenly. Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw him nod, approving of their stance. They took a breath, reminding themselves not to close one eye.

The hexapedes grazed, unknowing. Their gaze fell upon all of them, choosing the biggest one to feed the people. Another breath. They let go.

The arrow flew and hit true. The hexapedes scattered, leaving behind the dead.

They jumped down, whispering prayers as they pulled out the arrow.

They had done it.

A hand touched their shoulder. "You are truly ready."

They carried the hexapede with his help, strapping it onto their direhorse.

"Do you think you can climb the mountains? If you fall I will not catch you," he joked, getting onto his direhorse.

As they went to reply, they felt it more than heard it or saw it. Instinct, if you will.

The leaves moved. They hit the direhorses, causing them to run off quickly. A palulukan pounced, aiming for where Tsu'tey had been mere milliseconds ago.

They reached for their bow only to have a chilling realization. It was on their horse.

The palulukan grunted, turning to growl at them as if accusing them of costing it its meal. And then it pounced again.

The force hit them like a truck. They were pinned between the palulukan and the ground. Stones dug into their back.

If they cried out, they wouldn't know. The pain coursed through them blindingly. They could almost hear bones snapping. For a second they thought they passed out.

The palulukan moved above them. When they looked up, its teeth were right above. It's jaw on their chest.

There was no time to think. They wrapped their arms and legs around its mouth, holding it shut. It did not like that, bucking and shaking, almost succeeding in throwing them off. Their face got dangerously close to the opening of its jaw and they leaned back, head hitting the ground.

A glint in the grass caught their eye. Their arms hurt. Their legs were conceding to the sheer power of the palulukan's jaw.

They reached out blindly, skin scraping on stones. Tears clouded their eyes. Warm breath pushed against their skin. Saliva dribbled down and loosened their hold.

Their hand hit more rocks. The palulukan jumped around wildly, realizing as well that their death was imminent.

They kept readjusting, trying not to fall. The saliva made it hard to get a grip. The breath made them want to barf.

This was it, they would die.

And then their hand hit solid wood, grasping for it blindly. The familiar carving had them crying even more.

They let their other hand slip, relying on their legs to keep its mouth closed. And then they drove the arrow into the middle of its jaw.

It cried out and faltered. Their grip slipped and they hit the forest floor with a force that drove the air from their lungs.

The pain had gone numb, at least. Another product of their experimentation.

The palulukan struggled, crying out. They watched as its movements became sluggish, whining in pain. They stood easily. As if they didn't have any injuries at all.

They took another arrow, trying to even their breathing as they approached it. "I'm sorry." The arrow plunged into its head and it went still.

A small spray of blood reached them, splattering across their front.

A prayer for its life floated into the air, uttered with the barest amount of shock.

When it fell they cried, body shaking, and the urge to lay down and wait for help grew strong. Something felt off to them, knowing that the experiments robbed them of feeling anything in the midst of such situations.

This didn't seem to be the case with them kneeling on the grass, shaking uncontrollably and throwing up fruit and meat until they heard a cry that wasn't their own.

Their body froze, every emotion finally slinking away as it had been trained to do.

They picked the remaining arrows off of the ground and ran.

The cry rang out again and they almost tripped upon the realization that it was Tsu'tey.

They saw a blur of black through the trees and their blood ran cold. Another palulukan. Why?

It jumped at a tree, and they could just barely make out Tsu'tey stabbing at it with his spear.

They ran forward to help.

The palulukan jumped higher, nearly grazing Tsu'tey, and when he stepped back nothing could support his weight but leaves.

They ran faster when he fell and it turned to pounce on him. They pounced first. Jumping onto its back, bunching all of the arrows together, and bringing them down.

Blood splattered on them again. Coating them almost wholly this time. But they had no time to care or cry. They stumbled over to Tsu'tey, muttering another prayer.

They examined him. He wasn't hurt, but he wasn't awake. His head had hit a log.

They cried out for the horses, only one appeared.

His weight didn't hurt. Even though they could hear their bones straining, it didn't hurt. It couldn't hurt. They hauled him up onto the direhorse, easily ignoring how their arms shook.

They followed behind him, climbing onto the horse and urging it forward. They could feel the horse's worry through the bond, no doubt heightened by whatever pain their body currently ignored.

The forest at that time of morning could be easily navigated and they would have thanked Eywa for it if they still had control over their thoughts.

Their brain started to shut down. The numbness intensified. Somehow, they spotted a guard in the trees and called out. Or at least they think they did.

The guard turned, and they had time to register the panic in his eyes before the world tilted.

#avatar #jake x reader #tsu'tey x reader #james cameron avatar #dad Tsu'tey agenda #they're friends now #platonic Tsu'tey x reader #platonic jake x reader #injury tw #blood tw

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