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#its her pov
starry-bi-sky · 2 months
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(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining.#sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he.#bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me#because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him#which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he#friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on --#-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes.#not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs#a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know#he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks#but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post#when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock#and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot#so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th#waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't#- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought#a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is#'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.'#not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the#fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes#“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny.#sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have
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Shovel Talk(s) Part 2
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Nobody in the history of the world has ever referred to Eddie as jubilant but that was certainly the best word for him currently. Eddie has survived the apocalypse (even if barely), been proven innocent for the murders (the Upside Down exploding into Hawkins helped), and he has a boyfriend. It makes Eddie feel like he's floating.
Steve drops him off, walks him up to the porch, and gives him the sweetest kiss goodbye. Eddie doesn't go inside right away because he wants to watch Steve as he leaves and maybe blow him an exaggerated kiss as he drives away.
"Glad that boy finally did something about how pathetic you were being," Wayne says in lieu of a greeting when Eddie finally slips in the front door and into the living room, plopping himself on the other end of the sofa, dragging one of the throw pillows that came with the couch into his lap to clutch onto. Ground him, because he's still floating.
"I was not being pathetic!" Eddie is scandalized.
Wayne lets out a wistful sigh and says, in a poor imitation of Eddie's voice, "when will Steve end my suffering and notice me."
Eddie lunges across the couch with the pillow in hand, whacking Wayne with every word he speaks, while also trying to dodge Wayne trying to grab the pillow from him, "I do not sound like that!"
Wayne tricks him into thinking the pillow is his only goal and before he realizes what's happening, Wayne has him in a headlock, dragging both of them off the couch as he stands, giving Eddie the gentlest noogie of his life. "I think I know how you sound, hearin' you bellyache for the last 13 years. I've had to hear your relentless sighing and bemoaning about Steve for at least six of 'em."
Eddie beats him with the pillow more until Wayne releases the headlock and then they wrestle until his uncle fakes hurt, so Eddie backs down quickly, and Wayne steals the pillow and beats him back onto the couch until Eddie yields.
"That was dirty fighting, old man," Eddie says when he finally stops laughing enough to catch his breath.
"What was it you used to tell me, when I said you were fightin' dirty?" Wayne asks, "Scrappy."
"Oh, is that what you think you are?" Eddie swings at Wayne's knee half-heartedly. Wayne flings himself across the room and into the recliner there like Eddie shoved him. "Oh, you big baby."
"You're awfully callus about bullying your old man," Wayne chuckles and settles into the recliner, popping the leg rest out. "Now, tell me about your boy. He was a gentleman to you?"
Eddie pouts, "Unfortunately, yes. One chaste kiss and then he was off."
"Smart boy."
Eddie narrows his eyes. "What's the supposed to mean?"
"Means I scare him."
"What."
"That a question or a statement, son?" Wayne looks awfully smug over in his chair.
"What do you mean you scare him?"
"Just gave him the good ole father shovel talk. Y'know? Hurt my boy and I'll make you disappear," Wayne says.
"You terrible old man!" Eddie throws his pillow at him but Wayne bats it out of the air. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be your fault!"
Wayne just shrugs. "Fine by me."
"You are the worst."
-
Eddie can't make his leg stop jiggling. He feels sorry for Nancy, who is sharing the bench seat with him because he's sure that it's shaking the whole bench. He's filled with energy and doesn't know what to do with it.
Robin sits across from them, finishing up the last of her milkshake as they wait for the to go order they're going to drop off for Steve, who is stuck at Family Video for another five hours. He was supposed to be here, too, but Keith called him asking him to cover and he'd said yes. Eddie wishes he hadn't. This was Lunch Date Day.
"Are you still upset Steve took an extra shift?" Nancy asks. "Even though you know he's just going to spend the extra money on you?"
Eddie's pouting, voice whiny as he says, "I'd rather he be heeeerrrrrrrre."
"It's disgusting how in love you are," Robin says, shoving the now completely empty milkshake glass away.
Eddie's leg stops shaking because he full on freezes. "Uh."
"Are you afraid of saying the L-word? You are not subtle in showing it," Nancy says, ever the traitor, "but luckily Steve's just as smitten."
"You don't know that," Eddie says, arguing for the sake of arguing. He doesn't believe he likes Steve more than Steve likes him. He's pretty sure they're on an even playing field.
"Yeah, I do. I threatened to shoot him if he hurt you and he didn't even flinch. He'd have taken the bullet for you."
"You did what!?" Robin yelps. She's looking at Nancy like she's grown a second head.
"I didn't even bring a gun with me! Besides, Steve knows I didn't mean it," Nancy says with a wave of her hand, "it was just an obligation thing. You have to threaten your best friend's significant other. The whole conversation was like, 30 seconds tops."
"I'm your best friend!?" Eddie gasps, faking surprise. They have become good friends. She'd taken it upon herself to make sure he did get to graduate with Robin and herself, and they did form a sort of friendship from that. Also, from being the collective third wheel to Steve&Robin, which is enough to make people come together. Neither of them truly thinks of the other as their best friend, but it's fun to joke about their own Capitol with a P Platonic Friendship around Steve and Robin, as they become rather bitchy and defensive about their own friendship.
It's hilarious every time.
"Well, it's you or Argyle, and I don't think Jonathan wants to share his best friend, so...."
"Cold, Wheeler. Cold."
Nancy rolls her eyes and looks over to Robin. "Are you telling me you haven't given Eddie the shovel talk?"
Robin frowns as she thinks before her eyes widen in shock and she gasps, "I think I accidentally gave Steve a shovel talk instead."
Eddie bursts out laughing, "Robin, how the fuck did you end up accidentally giving a shovel talk to your own best friend?"
"I just told him to, like, be careful with you."
"Careful with me?" Eddie asks, a little incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Robin is going on the defensive, now. Eddie can see that in the way she squares her shoulders before saying, "it was said after your first date! Steve's had a lot of those, and you hadn't. I just- I dunno, wanted him to see the importance of that."
"So, what, you told him you'd shoot him if he hurt me, like Wheeler here?"
"No! I never said I'd hurt him for hurting you. I just said that he should be careful with you because, as your first boyfriend, if, and I did mean if, you don't work out, it's like... he's setting the precedent for how boyfriends should treat you. What you'll put with with, y'know?"
"That's sweet-" Nancy starts but Eddie's speaking over her just a quickly.
"Robin, that's stupid. I'm a fucking adult. If I'm not being treated how I want to be treated, I'll tell Steve," Eddie huffs. "You can trust that I say what I mean."
"Can I?" Robin shoots back. "Just like when you promised to get the fuck outta dodge and instead went on a suicide mission that ended very, very badly for you?"
"That was different, Buckley," Eddie hisses at her, sitting up straight to lean more across the table, trying to get in her face, "there was a lot of shit happening, and no way out that I saw. It's called trauma!"
It seems that a defensive Robin goes straight for the jugular because she hisses back, "No, actually, I think it's called survivors guilt and suicidal ideation. You know what, I should be giving you a shovel talk! 'Cause I don't fully trust you to not hurt Steve, either by lying or running once things get rough. You don't-"
"OKAY!" Nancy shouts, startling both of them into silence with one word. "We are in an, admittedly very empty, diner but still a very public diner, so let's not. Robin, you're not Steve's mom, it's not on you to look out for who is going to hurt him or-"
"You do not get to speak to me about hurting him," Robin points an accusing finger at Nancy. For all the anger she seemed to have for Eddie just now, he can see that it's almost doubled for Nancy. "I wasn't Steve's friend when you hurt him, but don't think I don't know every detail."
He knows this story, too. Had gotten it out of Steve one night, weeks ago now, when they'd been passing a joint back and forth on Eddie's bed. Before Eddie can pipe up, not that he knows what he'd say anyway, the waitress returns with the to go box and the check.
"It's my turn to pay," Nancy says, snatching the check before it touches the table, following hot on the waitress's heels to the register.
"Ugh," Robin flings herself against the back of the bench, both hands coming up to hide her face. From beneath her hiding place, she says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. What I said was unfair, and uncalled for."
"We're cool, Robin," Eddie says, "I forget how much of a buffer for our anxieties Steve is until we all hang out without him. He's able to defuse an argument before it happens."
"Oh, don't word it like that," Robin drops her hands and slides out of the booth, scooping up the to go box in the process," it makes Steve sound like the emotionally mature one."
They all climb into Nancy's car and apologies are said but Eddie feels like the next time Steve can't make it, they'll all bail on the weekly lunch. They're just a bunch of traumatized young adults and Steve is the heart of them, the person that bonds them outside the shit they went through. And maybe they should figure out a better way to deal with this than just pretending it didn't happen but- well, the world just kept moving on and they had to either move with it or get left behind.
-
It's two weeks after Eddie and Steve accidentally told the Hellfire crew they were a couple, which is why Eddie is not expecting it when Erica and Lucas corner him. He was expecting to be cornered by someone last week.
They'd been taking longer to pack up than usual, and that should have tipped Eddie off that something was up.
"Munson," Erica says in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, face unamused. For sharing no biology with Steve, Eddie finds the resemblance uncanny. "I need you to understand that you might be my Dungeon Master, but Scoops Troop will always trump that, so if you fuck this up with Steve, you will have to answer to me."
Eddie gives a soft grin in response, amused, "no worries, Lady Applejack. I have no plans to fuck this up."
Erica's eyes flick to Lucas, then back to Eddie. "I mean it, Munson. I have it on good authority that sometimes you hurt people and then you don't try to right it. You just move on-"
"Erica, stop it," Lucas says, voice a little panicked.
But Erica continues, because nothing ever seems to phase her, "and Steve and Lucas are alike in that way. So just know that if you hurt Steve like you hurt Lucas-"
"Erica!"
"I will end you. I will ruin your life, Munson-"
"Erica, STOP!" Lucas finally steps forward, yanking on Erica's arm to get her to stop talking. It makes her stumble a bit before rounding on Lucas. "Stop it."
"No!" Erica glares at her brother as she removes his hand from her arm. "Go outside if you don't want to hear it."
They stare each other down and Eddie's not sure what he should be doing. Should he step in? He grew up an only child, is this normal sibling behavior? But he doesn't have to step in because Lucas huffs and storms out of the house, front door clicking softly behind him even though Eddie expected him to slam the door.
"Now, you," Erica whirls around to Eddie, "do you understand what I'm saying?"
Eddie does not. He's fairly certain he's getting a shovel talk from a twelve-year-old and while amusing, he senses there's more to it than just his relationship with Steve. "You're threatening me on Steve's behalf?"
Erica scoffs and rolls her eyes like she thinks Eddie's an idiot. He's starting to think he might be. "Yes, I am but also more. Your relationship has been the hot topic these days, and my brother brought up a good point but he's too nice to say it, so I will. When school starts, if Steve wants to take you to a basketball game, even though they fall on Hellfire night, you postpone the damn game and you go. No matter how much you hate basketball or jocks or- or... other things." She loses steam at the end, eyes flicking to the door.
"What?" Eddie is even more confused, "I don't hate basketball. And if Steve asks, I'm not going to say no, okay? I care about Steve. A lot."
Erica frowns, which contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to ruin you, Munson."
"Is there... more to it?"
It takes Erica maybe three seconds to decide what she's going to say. Just long enough for her to look at the door, then back to Eddie. "You owe my brother an apology."
"Uh, sure, I'll apologize but for what?"
"Remember the basketball championship and the last session of the Vecna campaign that you wouldn't postpone so Lucas could play? You never apologized," Erica crosses her arms, another move reminiscent of Steve, before continuing, "You didn't apologize, and Lucas thought that it was because he's a jock, and you hate jocks. But now you're dating Steve and he's a jock. So, if you don't hate jocks, Lucas thinks you just hate him."
"What, no, I don't hate Lucas!"
"Then tell him that!" Erica glares at him, "and let this be a little lesson for you. Going forward if you hurt either of my brothers, intentionally or not, you can kiss the tires on your van goodbye."
Eddie tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and goes outside to apologize, because Lucas deserves to hear it.
Then, once the Sinclairs are gone and Eddie's back in his room, he runs through every conversation he can remember having with Steve. Has he dismissed things Steve liked too easily, too often? Has he said anything offhandedly that could be taken the wrong way without explanation?
Eddie's was an only child and didn't have to grow up worrying about anyone but himself. He made himself an outcast and shunned the 'norm' by choice. Doing so didn't exactly let him learn the social graces of patience and understanding.
It's eye opening, to learn that a decision he made months ago without a second thought has been hurting Lucas this whole time.
Has he ever done that to Steve, and not known it?
-
Steve's been distant these past few days and no matter how many times Eddie asks, Steve's answer doesn't change. I'm fine he says. I'm fine. Just fine. It's fine.
Except nothing feels fine. And Eddie doesn't understand the sharp change. They've got a date planned for tonight. Neither of them has specifically said it out loud, because it's sappy and stupid, but it marks three full months as official boyfriends. So, they've got a date planned, but Eddie's worried how it might end.
Eddie's been floating these last three months, but he suddenly feels grounded. He can't fix whatever happened if Steve won't tell him what it was! And in the absence of actual answers, Eddie's mind has invented his own.
Steve's realized that Eddie's not good enough for him. Steve's realized that he's actually straight, but thanks for the experimentation. Steve's found someone else and is working on how to break up with Eddie without blowing up their friend group in the process.
And Eddie hates himself for thinking these things. For projecting his own insecurities onto a version of Steve that doesn't exist. Eddie's gotten to know Steve.
Or he thought he had.
But now he's pulling away. And the only person he knows he can talk to about dating Steve is Nancy and he can't do that! He can't just go to Nancy's house and ask 'so when you were dating Steve and it was all going down the drain, was he distant or is that just a me thing?'
Fuck. Fuck!
He runs his hands through his hair and regrets it as his curls tangle around the rings on his hands. He should brush his hair, be getting ready, but he's procrastinating that because he can't decide if he's going all out, making himself look his best to see if it'll bring some life back into Steve's eyes when he looks at him, or if he shouldn't try at all and see if Steve even notices he's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday.
And it's bullshit that he's even thinking about testing Steve. Not two months ago he and Robin had argued in that diner about whether he's talk to Steve about these kind of things or not and now he was kind of proving her right. Except not, because he did try to talk! Steve just didn't answer when he questioned, and you can't really build a conversation from nothing.
Fuck! He should have known this would happen. That he would fall in love and Steve wouldn't love him back because that's always been his lot in life.
Oh.
Oh no.
He's been avoiding thinking it because once it's been thought, once it's solidified in his mind, it's true. And now he's thought it!
He's in love with Steve Harrington.
And isn't it just fuckin' peachy that this realization doesn't accompany happy feelings. He's in love and can't even be happy about it because he's so fucking sure his relationship is ending tonight.
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cutie-lumi · 7 months
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SHE GOES 😳😳😳
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k-wame · 7 months
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Upcoming Sky Atlantic/AMC TV Limited Series 'Mary & George' adaptation by Creator D.C. Moore.
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siilkeye · 2 months
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qjaiden has been missing longer than bobby was alive. btw
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gogh-with-the-flow · 2 months
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Part 3 of Cheating!Soap I hope yall are ready to hurt
Hurt/barely comfort if you squint. Soap and reader are both a little (a lot) pathetic.
Johnny didn't move a muscle on the couch. He sat until he was sure you had cried yourself to sleep. He listened as your weeping got more and more subdued, as your heartache wore you down until he could no longer hear your gasps for air. He figures you must have wept yourself to exhaustion. That is, until he hears the bedroom door creak open. He listens to your bare feet pad down the hardwood hallway until the sound is muted by the living room carpet.
Johnny lifts his head from his hands to see you standing there at the other end of the couch. He's never seen you look so weak. So defeated. He did that to you. Your head hangs low and your shoulders are slumped forward; your eyes are dull and your hands hang limp at your sides.
He drops his head again, unable to face what his actions have done to you. You, his angel, his perfect wife. Always patient, always brave, always waiting for him to come home safe. He can't look at you now. He feels the seat beside him sink with your weight. The silence drags on for far too long. When you finally speak, your voice is proven, as if he had personally smashed your throat beneath his foot. He might as well have.
"If this is you..." You pause, searching for the right words. You start again. "If this is you trying to... to figure something out..." You trail off. Your mind isn't all there right now, it melted out through your tear ducts. "If this is you... experimenting..." You take a shaky breath. "Then we can work on this."
He slowly turns his head toward you, eyebrows pinched in confusion. You should be asking for a divorce. You should be telling him to get his filthy ass out. And yet, here you are extending an olive branch. It shouldn't be you. He's the guilty party. He should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness, and you should be denying him.
Your ring still gleams on your finger.
Johnny shakes his head. You've got it all wrong. You're giving him too much compassion. Giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's all wrong. But he can't get the right words out either. All he manages is a shake of his head.
"That's not..." he chokes out. His chest feels like it's encased in iron. Your face crumples again. That awful, anguished look that he had never seen before this night. You make a small, pathetic noise in the back of your throat, trying desperately to hold onto your threadbare composure.
"Then why, Johnny?" You croak out, sounding like you have his fist wrapped around your neck. That would hurt less than this. You gasp for air. "Why did you do this to us?" Us! His poor darling, still thinking of you two as a unit. Can't you see he's ruined it? Why aren't you screaming at him?
"I was scared," he answers. You look at him with great worry in your eyes, now.
"Did he... did he force you?" Oh, there you are again, caring too much for this wretched man before you, giving him compassion he does not deserve. He's quick to deny it. He won't give himself such an easy out. He deserves the shame of the truth.
"No- no! He didn't- we-" he's scrambling for an explanation that won't shatter you completely. You're already fragile and broken. The details will only grind you to bits, won't they? But your looking at him like that, like you won't stop until you know why.
"We were pinned. Communications were dark. There was no way out, and were were in that house for so damn long, I... I didn't think I was coming home." He wants you to snap at him. He wants you to scream at him. That's what you did before you thought you would die? Your last act was to betray your wife? But that's not at all what you do. You're quiet again. Subdued, drowning again in that pretty head of yours.
"Do you love him?" You whisper, the sound made of glass. You barely contain a sob as you stare down at your toes. The answer comes easily to him.
"No." You squeeze your eyes tight, like you don't believe him.
"If it's just sex, I- then I c-can live with it but-" your breath is escaping you as you chase after it to keep it in your lungs. You're losing the race. "But please tell me you don't love him!" And you break again. You wrap your arms around yourself and dig your nails into your arms. You're hurting yourself when you should be hurting him. Tearing him up, throwing him out like the garbage he is. He can't stand the sight of it. He moves.
"I don't! I don't love him!" He rushes out as his hands snap to yours to prevent you from raking harsh lines into yourself. He finally touches you, finally, and it's like cool water on a summer's day. You fall into him, and he wraps you up.
"I can't take it if you love him!" you wail, eyes and nose and mouth all wet. "Please!" He holds you tighter, pulls you onto his lap, tucks your head under his chin, cradles you like an infant.
"I promise," he says right into your ear. He needs to make sure you hear it. "It's you. It's only you. I love you. I love you. I love you." He utters it like a prayer. Breathes it out like a confessional. Utters it only for your holy ears to hear. You cling to him like a raft in a storm. Your nails dig into his chest. Finally, he can pay for his sins. Penance through pain. He hopes you break the skin. A blood sacrifice to the goddess in his arms.
"Please don't leave me," you mumble. It's a pitiful plea. He hates himself for knocking you down so low. Why are you begging him? Don't you know it should be him instead? He holds you impossibly closer, almost afraid to crush you.
"Never. Never." You draw back suddenly, both hands holding his face. There's a firey desperation in your eyes. He feels the metal of your ring pressing into his cheekbone.
"Swear to me." Your wild eyes dart back and forth between his.
"I swear-"
"Whatever you do out there- whatever you have to do to make it through- to make it home-" your words come out rushed between panicked breaths. You grimace and shake your head, unable to finish the thought. "Whatever you do, you come home to me. Me. Your wife."
"My wife," he repeats and nods.
"Swear it!"
"I swear!" And then you kiss him. It's wet and clumsy and shaky. Your lips taste like stomach acid but he can't find it in himself to care. He'll do anything you want if only to lessen your pain.
"We made a vow, John MacTavish," you whisper, lips trembling against his. Your fingernails dig into his shaved scalp. Good. "You are mine."
"I'm yours. I'm yours." You press your forehead against his.
"Now take your wife to bed."
---
Part 4
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garnet-xx-rose · 3 months
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It will always bug me that Christine died relatively young, outlived by Raoul and seemingly the Phantom. Even without LND, she’s dies like late 50s, early 60s. And yeah people didn’t live long back in the day, but she was a wealthy woman who I’m sure had the resources to live a longer life than others.
There’s so many characters that are alive and kicking that are around the same age that Christine died: The managers, Madame Giry, the music conductor, the old owner. So I don’t buy that it’s just “old age”.
She should’ve been in her 80s, the last one out of the three, giving cryptic interviews to the press on “The Strange Affair of the Phantom of The Opera”. She should’ve been a consultant on movies based on the tragedy and fuck with the directors so nobody ever knows the real truth.
How is it that the center of this massive story was never able to share her POV? She doesn’t live long enough to tell her story and instead we have to figure it out based on the perspectives of the men who loved her but also never fully understood her.
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batcavescolony · 2 months
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Shut up she's doing her best and sometimes your best hurts.
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weaverofink · 8 months
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an eye for an eye.....
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berribeat · 2 months
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AGENT FOUR IN SIDE ORDER TRUST!!!
(I will cry if they're not)
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svtskneecaps · 4 months
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see everyone worried and fretted and panicked and yet quesadilla island looked at pepito and went
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#qsmp#qsmp pepito#this post is not about roier's parenting i PROMISE you don't need to defend your cubito#this is literally about pepito being bobbled between caretakers#bad etoiles foolish forever bagi pac and more that i just haven't seen#just. people who have shown an interest and desire to hang out with pepito and keep pepito safe#pepito went to find parents and look!! look!!!#listen. listen. to me the qsmp is about love. not mystery not roleplay not drama not plot.#the qsmp is at its ABSOLUTE best when it is People Talking To Each Other#purgatory was AMAZING for me as a bolas viewer bc if bolas was in the server THEY WERE IN A CALL they were CONSTANTLY talking and i THRIVED#people adopting each other into their fake families in the most middle school childlike wondrous form of love there is#when you like your friend so much they're your fake spouse. your fake child. your fake parent. your fake sibling.#eggs and parents that's LOVE tubbo and fred that's LOVE tazercraft and walter bob that's LOVE; cellbit and roier; phil and missa#baghera and bad and forever; bad and bagi; pierre and maxo; maxo and EVERYTHING his son his daughter his partner the theory bros#favela six that's LOVE LOOK AT THIS FUCKING SERVER EVEN ELENA WHO WE'VE KNOWN FOR AN HOUR IS ABOUT LOVE. HER PARTNER IS HER DRIVE.#jaiden's story is driven by LOVE the hole from the love of her son and chasing cucurucho's 'love' in return it's LOVE it's UNDERSTANDING#there's so much love and i'm biased to my povs but holy shit i will repeat it until y'all roll your eyes seeing me on the dash#like NOT THIS ANIME POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BULLSHIT AGAIN no i'm right u can't fight me#block game brainrot#shut up vic
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ohraicodoll · 1 year
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i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide
Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol
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Left Behind Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC The Last of Us 2.5k Words (3rd POV) (Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one) Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.
“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”
The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.” “You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-” “That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.” Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them. “That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap. But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life. Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out. He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall. She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues. One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face. He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up. But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson. He’d figure it out. He had to. 
With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them. The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged. Easy for him at least. He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down. Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had. “Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance. “Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow. She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it. “Like hell it ain’t.” “Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.” “I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.” “Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”
“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth. A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.” He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time. “You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?” He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting. 
The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds. 
Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom. He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her. “That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.” She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.” Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”
There was no smile then.  He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.
Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.
“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.
She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.
Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”
The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”
She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.
“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.
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dailypearldoodles · 7 months
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Ghost pearl !!
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Day 457
ghost
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genericpuff · 18 days
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i have nothing to say about the newest episodes of LO
so I'll let past me from the year 2022 say it instead
because everything they said a year and a half ago ironically still applies today and i don't even know how that's possible but it's where we are 💀😭
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separatist-apologist · 7 months
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The trick to writing a smut scene for a het pairing from the mans POV is to make him absolutely wrecked. He needs to be full on simping. It doesn't matter if that's not "realistic"- if that dude is taking himself seriously to an unbearable degree, if he's only thinking about himself and his wants- if he's hung up on things like virginity/proving virginity, and pleasure is wholly centered around him- it's ALWAYS going to come off gross and unsexy.
It's supposed to be fantasy, and if your audience is primarily women, then you're writing for the female gaze.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk
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yb-cringe · 3 months
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if you dont know shubble btw she’s awesome :) also on tumblr under the same name. genuinely a very talented rp’er and excellent at making such good well contained stories with cohesive narratives.
also she usually has a Ton of character variation, so she doesnt always get stuck in one Spot or Character Type (ex. shrub from empires vs wcsmp shelby) also shes done a Lot of dnd so. she’s good at this shit LMAO
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