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perfectprofessorloverapricot · 7 months

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Finding purpose | Male OC (or male reader) Chap 4

Summary: In a world that is dying and there is no way of saving it, the humanity takes mater into their own hands. They flee from their home planet with hope of conquering another in order to survive. Among them, a couple of brothers with no idea what they're doing.

Pairings: Jake sully × Oc (friendship), Tsu'tey × Oc (friendship), Neytiri × Oc (friendship). [No current love interest]

Warnings: Mention of violence, mention of death, manipulative behavior, use of drugs, bad ways of coping mechanisms and obscene language.

Note: - This is not a request and it's the translation of the original story in wattpad. - My native language it's not English - The Oc's name is Eli Thompson. - Edited

Prev part - Masterlist - Next part

With the second day at Pandora over, the soldiers documented their experiences of what they saw and felt while driving an avatar for the first time. It wasn't anything as detailed as a scientist would describe with the technical names of the neural connection between bodies or something. It was simple. They described it as an experience that couldn't be expressed with enough words or an experience that would blow anyone's mind. They called it a day and proceeded to fall into the arms of Morpheus.

The next day, the routine began like the previous one, they got up, took a bath and went to the cafeteria to eat.

But they never expected that after eating they would be directly called by a pilot to follow them to an area that they are already more familiar with from their years in the army, proclaiming that the colonel wanted to see them.

The woman introduced herself to them as Trudy, detailing that by orders of who they were going to see, she would be the designated pilot for the expeditions that involved them.

"You guys are packing some heavy gear." Jake commented as he saw the ammunition that was being loaded into the Samsun that she indicated as hers.

On the other hand, Eli was looking around, almost feeling nostalgic. Comfortable in his environment, but that did not bring him the best feelings. The last time he was in a place like this was when he presented his resignation letter caused by the disaster on his last mission. The same mission that almost took his life.

He felt a shiver run down his spine as he remembered it.

"Yeah. That's 'cause we're not the only thing around out there. Or the biggest." Trudy replied, with a small tone of amusement at the end. "I need you as gunners. Protocol generally asks me to take 2 soldiers for 1 scientist, but we are short staffed. You would be a lot of help tomorrow."

Eli turned to look at the woman with surprise, but a hint of relief. He wasn't cut out for science and he had to confess that he missed the adrenaline. So much time without being a Marine is already starting to take its toll on him. "Do they really have weapons but enough for avatars?" Eli asked.

Trudy gave him a toothy smile. She almost felt like she was seeing a child after being told that there are going to be gifts for Christmas. "You'd be surprised what toys the RDA can make. Fill out an application saying it's to improve mission performance and they'll give you whatever you want."

Jake nodded in satisfaction. Even if his avatar body was not his own, the idea of entering a hostile forest unarmed only to experience his death firsthand was not the best of ideas. "Well then, you can count on us." Jake said, responding to the request made a few seconds ago. Eli nodded.

"Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow then." She ended the conversation by stopping in front of a slightly more private section among all the mess caused by the army. She pointed to a man exercising in the corner. "There's your man. See you on the flight line." As a last act, she bumped fists with them to say goodbye.

Both soldiers approached the boss, stopping at the metal frame of the security-like cage created for those who wish to exercise and remain out of danger from the rest of the machinery in the place. "You wanted to see us, Colonel?"

"This low gravity'll make you soft…" the colonel began to speak while still doing the bench presses. His voice came out slightly with difficulty due to the effort of speaking and lifting weight. "You get soften…" to give more drama to the moment, Quaritch roughly put the weights in its place, sat up and looked them in the eyes very seriously. "Pandora will shit you out dead with zero warning."

Eli mentally snorted. He had already heard a lot about how dangerous the planet is, but no one had told him how good it could be and he is beginning to believe that someone ordered them to specifically tell them that just to scare them. To mess with the rookies or something like that.

The Colonel stood up and walked until he was in front of them. "You have a lot of courage showing up in this neighborhood." Both soldiers remained silent. The man's tone showed that he was not finished. "You are the best proof that a soldier cannot be defeated… Both wounded in combat and look where you are." Quaritch walked past them and held out his hands for emphasis to show where they were. On the most hostile planet known to man.

"It's just another hell, sir." Jake answered as he turned the chair around.

Quaritch smiled at the attitude. That fearless look is just what he needed to see to continue with his plan. With a nod he indicated for them to follow him. "I was first recom myself. A few years ahead of you. Well, maybe more than a few. Three tours Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here?…" he turned around walking backwards to point at his scar on the side of his head. "Day one. Think i felt like a shavetail louie? Yeah."

Eli nodded his head, turning to see some soldiers pulling a weapon big enough for the robot suits like the one they were walking to at that moment. A weapon the same size as his body and he bets 3 times heavier.

"Oh, the could fix me up, if I rotated back. And make me pretty again." He paused to climb onto one of the robot's legs and gave it a few strong tugs to test its resistance. Satisfied with the result, he turned back to the couple of friends. "But you know what? I kind of like it. Reminds me every day what's waiting out there."

Before he began climbing the robotic suit, he signaled for the soldiers to ride the elevator next to the suit and stay out of the way.

"The avatar program is a bad joke. Bunch of limp-dick science majors. However..." his voice came out with difficulty as he climbed up the suit until finally falling inside. "It does present an opportunity both timely and unique."

Eli crossed his arms and leaned on one leg to pay attention. The platform he had stood on with Jake finally stopped at the Colonel's level.

"CLEAR." The man shouted as he grabbed the controls of the machine. Someone behind the ex-Marines yelled for them to clear the area. The Colonel pressed the buttons on the panel, satisfied when the engine came to life. "Recon gyrenes in avatar bodies. That's a potent mix. Give me the goose bumps." He said with the slightest laugh in his words. He seemed to find the situation amusing. "Men like that would give me the intel I need, right on the ground. Right on the hostiles' camp" After calibrating the controls to his liking, he turned to the soldiers in a slightly more serious tone. "Listen. I want you to learn these savages from the inside. I want you to gain their trust. I need to know how to force their cooperation or hammer them hard if they won't."

The Colonel's tone did not give room to refute anything, it was directly an order without mentioning that it is an order. Something that neither of them liked. But they are soldiers, they are used to it.

Jake followed up with an important question. "Are we still with Augustin?"

"On paper. Yeah, you walk like one of her science pukes, you quack like one, but you report to me. Can you do that for me lads?"

The newcomers turned to look at each other. One look was enough to know that they both agreed.

"Yes, sir," they both answered instinctively. This loyalty brought a satisfied smile to the superior's face.

"Well, all right, then." With a wave of his glove, the Colonel turned on the robot. He brought his hands to his chest and threw some well-calculated punches, making the suit perfectly imitate his movements.

Jake and Eli backed up a little in the elevator to avoid being hit by accident.

Pleased with the adjustments to his suit, he turned it around to face the former Marines, placing his hands on his waist. Not even his suit seemed to prevent the Colonel from moving with confidence.

"I take care of my own. You get me what I need and you will get what your nation denied you."

The words the Colonel had used had been intentional. He read both of their files in order to not only understand who they are, but to understand how they think. He wants them to know that they are no longer on earth and that under his control he promised to give them more importance.

And they both completely believed it.

"To you Jake." The Colonel began. "I can give you your legs. Your real legs." Mentioning the limbs, the man aimed at Jake's human legs, using the robot. He then turned to Eli. "And to you, corporal. I will make sure that your nation gives you the recognition and apology you deserve. What do you think?"

Both soldiers nodded at the same time and responded. "Yes sir."

"Good." Ending the conversation, he closed the lid of the cabin with his metallic hand, turned around and turned to continue on his way, leaving the two with a lot to think about but only one conclusion.

They have a new mission.

#avatar x male reader #avatar #x male oc #x male!reader #jake sully x reader #avatar x oc #avatar fanfiction #dom male reader #neytiri x male reader #jake sully x male reader #x top male reader #male #tsu’tey x male reader #neytiri x reader

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sqeyungs · 1 year

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hunter, ft. ranpo edogawa cw. horror themes, cursing, mentions of blood & wounds a/n. been getting back into idv recently and i have ranpo's skin and ideas came to mind☝️

the weather was cold, yet somehow humid at the same time. maybe it was just the fact that you had been working your ass off trying to get those damn generators to run. with more than a couple zaps from misplaced wiring keeping you on your toes- not even to mention the one out for you two. the hunter.

the one that managed to rip both atsushi and dazai away from your grasps. it had been hours. hours of evading the entity that ranpo had felt so stumped on- and that wasn't exactly the most helpful place for the detective to be in this scenario.

with sweat dripping down your temple, you had only hoped the male was somewhere safe and far away from that monster right now. you weren't sure when you'd been separated from him, yet it happened, and it couldn't have been less than an hour at this point. luckily this would only be the second to last generator to finish. neither of you could help the fact that at sometimes hiding seemed better than running away from your foe. how you had even got yourself stuck in this situation; you weren't sure.

the only thing keeping your exhausted, not so clean body moving was finding ranpo and getting the hell out of this shit show. the ding went off when you finally finished up the current generator and as soon as it did you found yourself running far. you weren't in the best state, with more than just a couple cuts and bruises, but you couldn't stop now. not when you were so close.

it was when you approached a new, hardly touched generator that you heard twigs snap in the distance which made you flinch worse than you would rather admit. you cowered, crouching in a corner created by the space between the generator and the brick wall behind it, covering your mouth and closing your eyes tight as you could. you bit on your lip so hard you think you may be tasting blood now. you wouldn't be surprised. the weather along with how filthy you felt would be the explanation for your already chapped lips.

you couldn't die here... no. not when you don't know where your black-haired ally was or if he was safe. though, you couldn't manage to open your eyes or even move. you swore you almost yelled out a lung when you felt a hand cusp around your wrist, but that second hand was quick to keep your hands in a position where you couldn't open your mouth.

"don't make a sound," the voice whispered. the voice was one of familiarity, one that even at these times was able to calm your still growing nerves. your eyes opened with slight hesitation to see the one you've been so worried about. his eyes scanned over your features, and you swore you saw something welling up in his brown eyes which usually were closed or at least a little more enthusiastic than at the moment. "i'll fix everything. i always do, right?" he spoke, a fake chuckle following after his rhetorical question.

he looked around the surroundings before helping you off the muddy ground to gesture you to follow him as quietly as possible. as you walked more you soon heard the clanking of a nearby generator, one that was already halfway done! you would let out a sigh of relief if your teeth hadn't been so harshly clamped together. though you now felt more relieved, it soon dissipated due to the overwhelming pain all over your body. maybe it had been your adrenaline keeping you going, not your will.

without a sound from either of you, you two began to work on the last generator. you'd become much more paranoid yet much more careful in the process. not nearly as many misplaced cords or mess ups as before. not when you had ranpo at your side once more. where atsushi and dazai had went... you had only hoped they managed to find their way out. though you hadn't explicitly seen their demises you could only assume so from the sounds of terror you heard from the man-tiger earlier.

yet, you had a newfound hope. maybe it was just your reunion with the man but you wouldn't question it. you noticed your heartbeat suddenly increasing and it caused you to pause in your tracks. it was near.

"come on, we're almost done then we'll be safe, y/n," the boy tried to ease your nerves and coerce you back into working on the sparking generator. he knew why you paused in your tracks, in fact, he'd realized it was getting closer moments before you. he didn't let it stop him. you both needed to finish so you could get out and he couldn't let anything get in the way of safety.

you spotted it, out in the distance. your eyes began to well up in fear. no, no, no, no.. it couldn't happen again. you had already been locked up in that damn chair once which you were lucky enough to have atsushi at your service then but you couldn't go back. it could not happen again.

your heartbeat steadily increased as well as your rapid breathing and ranpo knew he wouldn't be able to snap you out of your trance while he was so focused on the generator. he took a deep breath, realizing just how close you two were. only ten more percent left to go and you were home free. he couldn't just ignore your rising panic though. "y/n."

you didn't even flinch at his call, not a single reaction. you were too focused on watching the hunter's every move since it would be after you at any second now. what then? what would you do? what if it-

"y/n," the detective repeated, now separated from the generator and pulling you to crouch down in front of him, hiding behind some barrel. "we're so close. i told you i would fix it, but you can't give up now. not when we're so close," he said. typically, he wasn't the type to give out free pep talks but for the first time he felt truly threatened in a life-or-death scenario and he wouldn't let said scenario take you away from him.

"i won't let it get to you again, but you have to help me."

#sqeyungs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #ranpo #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #identity v #idv #identity v x reader #idv x reader #idv x bsd #idv ranpo #ranpo idv

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tonyglowheart · 1 year

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man this ppl using hits as a read metric (which it is not) has been a line of discourse for aaages. I remember making some post ages ago about about how hits =/= reads and using examples of how just in my browsing habits alone, I could be adding multiple hits to a fic (stuff like opening the fic on computer first then deciding I wanted to read it on my phone so there's another hit now, revisiting a fic, even opening the fic each time a chap updates for a WIP would be a new hit, etc).

Add to that now Chrome's new shorter term caching to increase speeds (yes I know, I'm still on Chrome). But basically, Chrome doesn't keep tabs cached ("active") as much/for as long now supposedly to increase speed/performance, so when you revisit an older tab, it will refresh. Hell, I've had AO3 tabs I opened what feels like fairly recently that will refresh when I go back to it for whatever reason. And if I've visited a different ao3 tab in the meantime - happens frequently, sometimes I'm jumping fics, sometimes I looked something up in a new tab and forget which tab I was last reading so I have to go through a couple to find it lmao - well, then those are all additional hits now.

So, yeah, hits =/= reads. Hell, hits =/= unique visitors. Because as laid out in the examples above, that's already several hits I would have added to a fic just in regular browsing, without even reading/finishing the fic. And this doesn't even factor in stuff like rereads, or @/autisticandroids's examples of marking for later, opening a bookmark for a link to rec, or opening it to screenshot/share particular lines or scenes, etc. All of which we'd generally agree is positive for fic and writers, but would then increase hit count without increasing kudos (one per logged in user, who might be revisiting the fic multiple times) or comment count (I for one don't always comment I'm rereading. I will sometimes, but there are fics I've reread multiple times even, and I don't always comment to say I'm rereading.)

#ao3

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daddy-dins-girl · 8 months

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Safe for Tonight (Chapter 1)

Part 2 of the Series "Joel & Tess: Firsts" (can be read as a stand-alone without part 1, all you need to know for part 1 is that it was the first time Joel and Tess hooked up. This work takes place a few months later). If you'd like to read part 1 of the series, link is below :)

Masterlist

AO3 link A03 series link

Series Part 1: "When You Break"

Chapter 2

Joel Miller x Tess

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO) Word Count: 3.7k Rating: E (for chapter 2 only)

Summary: In which Frank convinces Tess for her and Joel to spend the night during their first visit to Lincoln. Tess attempts to capitalize on the fact that she and Joel are safe for once, no immediate threats lingering around every corner and just maybe she can persuade him to relax. When the evening nears its end and they find themselves alone in Bill's spare bedroom, Tess begins to wonder just what else she might persuade Joel into.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Alcohol consumption. Swearing. Mentioned sex. Chapter 2 will have further warnings. Chap 1 is pretty mild.

Notes: Take place pre-series. Sometime after Tommy left them to join the Fireflies but before Tess has moved in with Joel. Also, it's my headcanon that the QZ gives out birth control to, you guessed it, control the population. So my Tess in this universe will not be having any pregnancy scares ;).

...

The moment they passed the threshold of the front door and stepped inside Frank immediately smacked Tess’s arm playfully, yet sharp enough to sting.

“Ow! What was that for?” Tess asked with a huff, rubbing a hand up and down her upper arm.

“You didn’t tell me Joel was drop dead gorgeous!” Frank said excitedly, his grin from ear to ear. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me!”

Tess side eyed him for a long moment before she burst into a fit of laughter and Frank quickly followed suit, the two of them reaching to hold onto each other as they nearly fell over from laughter. The wine that had been freely flowing over dinner likely had something to do with how silly the whole situation seemed to her. Tess felt like a teenage girl in high school all of a sudden, gossiping over the cute boy in their class and she hadn’t remembered when she’d laughed so hard that her stomach hurt.

“A little warning next time before you bring an Adonis over to a couple of old gay dudes house, we’re liable to have a heart attack and keel over you know” Frank admonished playfully once they’d caught their breaths.

“Shut up” Tess replied giggling, lightly shoving at his shoulder.

“Ok but seriously…” Frank began before raising an eyebrow at her suggestively. “Nice pull Tess”

“Well, thanks but he ain’t exactly mine” Tess shrugged and Frank’s face fell slightly.

“Oh, I mean, I don’t know the way you always talked about the two of you I guess I just kinda thought…” He trailed off, not finishing his thought.

“We’re partners, you know, but Joel is… well, Joel’s… Joel.”

“Right, well, glad we cleared that up. ‘Cause I’d hate for you to be ambiguous” Frank deadpanned and Tess rolled her eyes.

“You seriously never hit that?” Frank questioned again, pointing in the general direction behind them where Joel and Bill were still outside finishing eating their dinner. “Two gorgeous single people spending everyday together, and you’re not fucking? I knew I never understood straight people” he finished his thought with a shake of his head.

Tess’s eyes glanced away and her non-response was all Frank needed before he let out a loud gasp.

“I knew it!” He shouted triumphantly and it was Tess’s turn to smack Frank.

“Hey, keep it down” Tess said in a hushed whisper, looking over to the closed door. She was pretty certain neither of the two men outside could hear them, but she wasn’t about to chance it either.

“Ok, ok. I wanna hear the whole story” Frank said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He grabbed Tess by the hand and all but dragged her into the living room and yanked her down to sit next to him on the couch. “Come on, spill!”

“Really Frank, ain’t much to tell” Tess said, the disappointment evident in her tone. “Couple months ago we literally almost died, got back to his apartment and fucked our brains out. Once. And… that’s it, end of story. Business as usual ever since”

Frank just stared at her as if she had two heads.

“Why?” he finally asked, his tone less playful now and more confused.

“Because, I don’t know, Joel is…” Tess shook her head, the thought unfinished.

“Joel is Joel. Right, we covered that already” Frank said teasingly and a small smirk pulled at the corner of Tess’s mouth but she nudged him in the side all the same.

“He doesn’t… feel that way about me” Tess shrugged.

“Feel what way?” Frank asked, genuinely interested, his head tilted slightly waiting for her reply.

“I don’t know just… Joel is never gonna be like a boyfriend, or whatever”

“But you want him to be” Frank quickly interjected and Tess’s gaze snapped to his, surprised how quickly Frank seemed to have figured her out.

“I’m not twelve Frank, I don’t need a boyfriend” Tess argued, feigning nonchalance.

“A partner then” Frank said simply in reply. “And I don’t mean a business partner”

“Yeah well, Joel’s not ever gonna be that either. The first one, I mean” Tess said, her gaze falling to the space between them on the couch where her hand started fidgeting with a loose thread in the fabric.

“He’s said that to you?” Frank asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Didn’t have to” Tess just shrugged. ”It’s complicated. He’s complicated” she amended.

“Ok so you have mind blowing sex and then the next day it’s just what ‘hey let’s divvy up the ration cards from last week's score’?” Frank asked, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. Tess couldn’t blame him, she hadn’t exactly figured it out either.

“Look Frank I don’t know what to tell you, we were just… blowin’ off steam” Tess said with a shrug, hoping he’d buy it and leave it at that.

“Tess I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I feel like we’ve become friends and I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt”

“Joel would never hurt me,” Tess said immediately. Vehemently.

“Well, maybe not intentionally,” Frank replied softly, placing a hand on her arm.

"Look it's not like I'm trying to get married and run off into the sunset" Tess said, shaking her head as she looked away. "But you know, a warm body next to you at night, somebody to wake up to, it ain't exactly the worst thing"

"Yeah" Frank agreed softly. He wasn't sure what else to say. He hadn't known Tess all that long, they'd been communicating over the radio for a while but this was their first time meeting in person. He did genuinely care for her though and he wanted her to be happy. He didn't love how happiness for her might mean not being completely fulfilled because she wanted things Joel couldn't give her but she'd settle for what he could. Though he supposed they all did that in some way. He and Bill had compromised themselves in a lot of ways and had both settled for things that in another life (before) they may not have. He was happy though. What Bill was able and willing to give him made Frank happy, so he supposed maybe that's what happiness would look like for Tess too.

A long silence settled over them until finally Frank spoke again.

“Look maybe… He does want something and he just doesn’t know how to say it or ask for it. Have you tried? Since, you know…”

“No” Tess shook her head.

“Stay here tonight” Frank said suddenly, like a lightbulb had just gone off inside his head and Tess stared at him quizzically.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s already getting kinda late, you guys have been drinking, don’t worry I’ll make a good case to convince both Bill and Joel it’s the best idea. And you guys can spend the night here where it’s safe and quiet and you can just talk and… well, you know, anything else you might want to do” Frank finished suggestively and Tess’s eyes widened at his suggestion.

“In your house, are you crazy?” Tess huffed, shaking her head.

“Oh come on, we’re all adults. Not to mention our bedroom is on the ground floor at the back of the house, you two would be in the guest room at the top floor at the front of the house so we’re not gonna hear anything anyway”

“Frank” Tess sighed, exasperated.

“Just… you know, try it. Make a pass, see what happens. Whether you want him to be your boyfriend or just help you forget about your problems for one more night, either way you’ll never get either until you put yourself out there it sounds like”

“Come on,” Frank began again suddenly, standing up from the couch and clapping his hands together once. “Let’s go tell the boys you two are staying here tonight. Bill is going to shit a brick, it’ll be hilarious, you’ll want a front row seat”

Tess rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but be amused by Frank. Agreeing, she stood up and followed him out of the house.

…

It was indeed hilarious to watch their reactions, particularly Bill’s. If he was a cartoon character, there would have been steam billowing out both his ears for certain. Joel had been much more subdued, though just as steadfastly against the idea as Bill. He quietly tugged Tess aside by the elbow and in a harsh whisper told her all the reasons why it wasn’t a good idea but she’d eventually managed to convince him otherwise.

Bill and Joel had exchanged looks, silently agreeing they both disagreed with the scenario but their respective partners had apparently decided for them and left no room for argument and so barely an hour later Joel and Tess found themselves being shown to the upstairs guest room by an overly gracious Frank and a quietly furious Bill.

“And towels and robes in the bathroom and extra blankets in the hall closet, if you need ‘em” Frank said with an easy smile as he finished giving them the tour of the guest bedroom and ensuite.

“Bill and I are on the main floor and I’d say holler if you need us but… we’d never hear it” Frank said with a dismissive wave of his hand and knowing glance at Tess to which she just rolled her eyes at, facing away from Joel so that he was otherwise oblivious to Frank’s innuendo. “So if you do need something, just come down to our room and let us know” he finished, only for Bill to immediately pipe up.

“Or you could wait until morning and not wake anybody up in the middle of the night” he said grouchily.

“We’ll be fine,” Joel said with finality, still less than impressed that Tess had somehow roped him into this. It was probably the third bottle of wine that softened him enough to eventually agree with her.

“Right well… goodnight then” Frank said with a beaming smile before lightly shoving Bill out of the room.

“Good night, thanks again!” Tess called out after them as the door closed, sealing her and Joel inside alone.

She turned to face Joel, his back stiff, shoulders squared and she playfully rolled her eyes at him.

“You need to relax Texas” she said sweetly, walking up to him to place a hand on each of his shoulders and jostled him slightly in an attempt to loosen his stance.

“Tell you what,” she began again a moment later, looking over to the bathroom that had its door wide open. “I haven’t had a hot bath in at least a decade and I’m bettin’ it’s about the same for you… Why don’t you, y’know… join me for one” She suggested simply, shrugging one shoulder.

“A bath?” Joel questioned, one eyebrow cocked as if she’d just said the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“Joel, we’re safe here. For once in our goddamn lives there is no immediate threat to our safety. Can’t you just… let yourself go, for one night?”

Joel sighed, hung his head and placed his hands on his hips.

“Why don’t you go on,” Joel gestured his head towards the bathroom. “I cleaned up before dinner anyway and I’d rather shower in the morning ‘fore we head out for the day”

Tess deflated slightly, a frown crossing her features. “You sure?” she tried one last time.

“Yeah. Hell, if I try and crawl into a tub these old bones are liable never to make it back out again” he attempted jokingly but Tess only felt disappointment, though trying her best not to let it show.

“Okay” she sighed, turning away and going into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her.

Joel watched her disappear from view behind the white wooden door and hung his head, seemingly frozen to his spot on the floor. He felt a bit like a jackass. She was trying to be nice to him. Sweet, even, and he refused to let his guard down, ever stubborn as always.

Hell he’d just turned down a chance to get naked with Tess because he can’t turn off his survival instincts for even one night, apparently. Not that she had really implied anything with her offer to allow him to join her but surely she wasn’t opposed to the idea either otherwise she wouldn’t have asked… Right?

Joel’s thoughts tumbled around his brain that was already really only working at about half capacity given the amount of alcohol flowing through his bloodstream. He was already beating himself up over getting into this state in the first place. Not that he was drunk, mind you, but buzzed certainly. Once Bill had put the gun away that had been subtly trained on Joel for most of the afternoon Joel did finally feel himself starting to ease and the wine continued to flow as their evening progressed. He listened to Tess and Frank laugh and laugh as they chatted like they were the oldest of friends and a smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d heard Tess laugh like that. He’s not even sure he ever had.

He and Bill mostly talked shop. They talked of guns and traps and the resources Bill had seemed to maintain despite the state of the world. It was impressive, Joel had to admit. And for that, Bill had his respect and by the end of the night, he felt that maybe he (albeit begrudgingly) had Bill’s as well.

His mind wandered to Tess again, as he glanced over to the still closed bathroom door. The water had long since been turned off and she was still soaking in the tub, he could tell by the occasional slosh of water he could hear when she moved. He bit his lip, cursing his own stubbornness to not accept her offer. She was right, they were safe here, for the night at least. She was happy and free and he had to try and stomp all over her good mood. Just because he was miserable all the time didn’t mean he needed to drag her down with him but he had done exactly that and he immediately felt guilty for it.

He wandered around the room for a couple minutes, getting himself ready for bed and ultimately deciding on a way to make it up to her. Hoping against hope that she would still want him to.

…

Once her fingers had started to prune and the water had gone from near scalding to a tepid lukewarm, Tess reluctantly pulled herself out of the bathtub. It had been so nice to close her eyes, soak in the hot water and just pretend nothing outside of her small serene environment inside the bathroom existed. It had taken her some time at first to get her mind to drift from Joel, but she had managed.

Frank certainly couldn’t tell her now that she hadn’t tried. She let herself be vulnerable and had asked him to join her and he had shot her down without a second of hesitation. She shouldn’t have been all that surprised but regardless it had hurt, being rejected by him. She’d been so careful over the past several months since their first (and only) indiscretion to not act differently around him, not wanting to scare him away. Joel was the only person she could count on and until she met Frank, her only friend. She wouldn’t risk losing him over the feelings she had for him that he didn’t reciprocate. It wasn’t worth it.

She knew, in the way he treated her, cared for her, protected her, that he did love her as much as he was capable of, it just wasn’t the same way she loved him. But she could be OK with that, she had decided long ago. Still, she had a physical desire for him that she’d hoped he shared, even if their relationship otherwise was likely to remain unchanged. Tonight however had solidified to her that the fleeting night of passion they’d had all those months ago was apparently a one time thing and she would have to just get over it. It was at that moment she wished she could be more like Joel; just closed off to everyone and everything. Don’t get attached and you can’t get hurt.

For Tess, it was too late.

As she finished drying off Tess immediately cursed herself when she realized she didn’t bring any clean clothes into the bathroom with her. All she had was the clothes she had been wearing all day, had been traveling in, and after spending the last half hour getting clean there was just no way in hell she was putting any of that on again. She was thankful at least for the fluffy white robe that hung on the back of the door and put it on, tying the sash around her waist before tossing her damp towel into a small hamper that sat against the wall opposite the sink.

Heaving a heavy sigh and inwardly hoping that Joel would already be fast asleep so she didn’t have to be running around their shared room in only a bathrobe trying to find something to wear, she pushed open the door to reveal Joel across the room from her, sitting upright in the bed and staring right at her.

Well, shit.

“Oh, hey, thought you would’ve been asleep already” she tried for indifference, hoping he didn’t sense her nervousness. There was a small lamp on the bedside table beside him that illuminated him in a warm light in the otherwise darkened bedroom but it certainly wasn’t dark enough that he couldn’t see her in her bathrobe. She willed herself to relax as she instantly felt herself tense up again.

“Was waiting up for you” he answered simply and she gave him a questioning glance but otherwise said nothing.

“C’mere” he said after a few long seconds stretched between them, gesturing with a nod of his head for her to come over to him.

Tess bit her lip and regarded him carefully from where she still stood just barely outside the bathroom.

“What are you upto Texas?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she slowly made her way toward his side of the bed he was laying in. He was lying on top of the bedspread, back up against the headboard with a pillow behind him and was wearing black sweatpants with no shirt and damn he looked good.

Snap out of it Tess! she chided herself.

She came to stand next to him at the side of the bed, still unsure what exactly he had summoned her over to him for when he moved his leg closest to her up so it was bent at his knee and gestured with his hand for her to sit down. She eyed him curiously for a long moment before she finally sat in the spot where his leg had been, still unsure just what in the hell was going on.

The moment she sat down she felt his arm go around her waist and tug her towards him, forcing her legs up onto the bed and she let out a gasp of surprise until her back hit the hard wall of his chest. Her legs were now laying on the bed between his and he lowered his raised one back down.

“Joel, what-” She didn’t finish her sentence before she felt strong hands on her shoulders, over top of the plush material of her bathrobe and as they started massaging, an involuntary moan escaped her mouth despite herself.

“Just helping you relax” he said easily and she huffed a laugh in return.

“I said you had to relax! Not me. I just got out of the bath”

“Then why do you feel so tense?” He asked and she winced. She had felt great, up until 2 minutes ago when she walked into the room and found him half naked not asleep and herself fully naked under her robe, internally screaming for an escape. She felt so embarrassed about, in her mind, practically throwing herself at him earlier and him rebuffing, she just wanted to crawl under the covers and forget the night ever happened.

Damn Frank for putting ideas in her head.

“I’m sorry” he said eventually in a low voice, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck as he continued to work his hands into her.

“Sorry for what?”

“For being… well, me” He said simply and she could feel him shrug behind her.

“I know I can be a miserable old bastard” He decided to continue. “You were doing something nice, for us, and I just can’t help but be a damn stick in the mud and ruin your night”

Tess sighed, hating that he felt guilty. “You didn’t ruin anything” she tried, smacking lightly at his leg next to hers.

“I did” he said firmly. “So, let me make it up to you. Please?” His hands stopped their movements then but remained on her shoulders, apparently awaiting her go-ahead.

Well, how could she refuse?

“Get to work then, you miserable old bastard” she said teasingly, throwing his own words back at him and he chuckled from behind her before his strong hands began kneading into the deep tissue of her shoulders again. Tess rolled her neck slightly and hummed her approval. She didn’t know what had come over Joel, but she wasn’t about to question it either as his hands worked their magic over her. Her only regret now was the thick amount of terry cloth that separated his hands from her bare flesh that suddenly felt warm at the idea of his hands potentially slipping underneath the material to touch her as she longed for him to.

Luckily for Tess, she didn’t have to wait long for Joel to do just that.

Next Chapter

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel x tess #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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insult-2-injury · 2 years

Text

Take a Seat- Chapter 5

After a skirmish up top, your failing shop falls under the watchful gaze of the Eye of Zaun. And his blue-haired gremlin daughter.

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It was a few days after the explosion. The roof was already repaired, a Band-Aid slapped over a wound that you sensed was much deeper than the general public realized. This early in the evening, the bar was as empty as it ever got. You could get used to this, you thought, the lulling sounds of gossip and laughter in a steady flux, like a boat tossing side to side. It was chillingly easy to forget, at times, that the Last Drop was the heart of one man’s massive criminal empire. And that said man, the backbone of it all, lived quietly upstairs.

You were cross-legged on a barstool, chatting with the pink-haired bartender. Cecil was her name, and she’d been working there for a few months. Surprisingly, she quite liked the gig, never having found a reason to fear for her life other than the all-embracing threat of working under Silco, but she’d said she’d never had to deal with the intimidating man, nor did she see him except for rare occasions when he materialized on the balcony like a ghostly specter. But never did he set foot on the bar room floor during business hours.

You shared with the older woman that you’d be watching Jinx there on Friday nights now and as you spoke the words aloud for the first time, you realized how suspicious it sounded that you’d entered Silco’s office with a target on your head and come out fifteen minutes later with a job. She didn’t push the subject.

“So, Sevika, huh?”

“Oof. You noticed?”

You steadied yourself with two hands on the counter, where you’d been pivoting back and forth incessantly for the past ten minutes.

“You kidding? That tension was thick.” You placed a fist under your chin to look at her earnestly. “That was exceptional flirting, don’t get me wrong. You would’ve had me hook, line, sinker. Super unfortunate it ended in a death threat. Sevika is just…” You scanned the bar, paranoid. “Weird.”

“Well, I won’t be trying that again in a hurry.”

Cecil smiled lightly but you got the impression she was still generally unsure of you. You suppose you couldn’t really blame her, considering.

The woman walked over to serve a cheap beer to a glum-looking man who had just slumped down at the opposite end of the counter, and you admired the compassion in her eyes as she leaned over to murmur to him.

You hardly knew Cecil, yet there was an inherent trustworthiness about her, a rare kindness she possessed in its purest form. She appeared, on the surface, the direct antithesis of Sevika, so you’d been surprised, to say the least, at her romantic interest in the hostile woman. Yet, somehow, when you’d really considered the pairing, it had potential, like two neighboring magnets of opposite poles.

If you could just get them close enough.

In the distraction, you found yourself side-eyeing the shadowy upper levels of the bar, not fully understanding what you expected to find, what you wanted to find.

It wasn’t a Jinx day, but you’d found yourself antsy the past couple weeks, becoming more intolerant of spending all your time alone. It appeared, unsurprisingly, that the more you ventured out of your house for socialization, the more you felt starved for more, as if you had to atone for years lost. On the whole, it was probably a good thing that your machines were becoming less and less interesting to talk to, but it did mean it took more convincing to yourself in order to sit still and work at them for the long hours you did.

Cecil clapped the man on the back once and strode back over to you, propping herself up on her forearms as she leaned in.

“Seems everyone’s having troubles on the relationship front.”

You settled your cheek into your palm and looked at her crookedly, contemplating. “I think you should try again. Death threats don’t mean much, really. She threatened my life just seconds before yours, maybe it’s her love language.”

Cecil laughed, the sound rich, like a dark cup of Noxian coffee. You grinned back at her.

“So, you’re saying I should keep pushin’.”

You pursed your lips, reconsidering. As someone with a more recent habit of prancing around the limits of Death’s patience, maybe you weren’t the one to ask for advice about how far to push things. Your head jerked slightly as you again stopped its unconscious turn toward the crime lord’s lair, like a lamb, oddly intrigued by the idea of its own slaughter.

“No. Probably not.”

Cecil considered you, then tapped the bar with two curved fingers before straightening.

“You’re awfully confusing. But I like you.”

She snagged a honey-colored bottle of whiskey from the shelf, shaking it in silent question. You shook your head and made a gag face.

“Hate the stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t drink?”

“Oh no, I do,” you blurted. “Just not looking for anything strong right now.”

“You sure? I can-“

“Nope, nope I’m good.”

Cecil gave you a strange look and then flipped the bottle expertly, placing it back before tossing a rag over her shoulder and turning back to you.

“So, what about you, darlin’? You got a partner down here?“

“Oh, no. Nothing even close. I’ve been kind of a hermit recently.” You cut your words short, feeling, unreasonably, as if you’d just given a deeply personal truth away.

Cecil looked at you deeply.

“Well, it makes sense now why you burst in here talkin’ a blue streak.”

You slapped your palms over your eyes and clawed your fingertips dramatically down your face. “I know. It’s like a disease.”

Cecil snorted.

“No problems here.” She grew serious suddenly, her voice lowering. “Hey. I wanted to say thanks for the gift. You didn’t have to do that, and I’m still not sure why you did. But I won’t be scraping the barrel for this month’s rent.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Cecil nodded. You propped yourself on your elbows as you leaned toward her, deadpan.

“No, I really mean that. Don’t mention it to anyone.”

__________

You were on time. Extremely on time.

Taking every possible obstacle into account (roadblocks, unexpected crowds, kidnapping, the subsequent, time-consuming escape), you’d left your house an hour early, your satchel still packed with the same candy and games as last time.

For the second week in a row, you weren’t greeted at the door by your notably impatient, blue-haired friend. Earliness aside, you couldn’t help but feel troubled. You wondered, in heart-pounding anxiety, whether you’d gotten something wrong, checking your watch several times.

Shoving your way through the swaying crowd to the lesser populated side of the bar where your booth was located, you were remiss to find that it was occupied by a man and woman. The latter was side eyeing the bathrooms as the former chatted away obliviously. By the looks of it, you were near certain it was a first date gone bad.

You did a lap around the bar, hoping they’d get up and leave of their own accord. Cecil’s presence put you slightly at ease and you felt exceedingly grateful that she worked this shift, even though it was too busy to chat with the incessant flow of thirsty customers. As your time approached, you leaned your elbows back against the bar counter, scanning the room for Jinx and her flying, sentient braids. Noticing your nervous glances, Cecil offered to make you a drink and you declined with a stiff shake of your head.

Craning your neck around to where you were meant to be sat in less than ten minutes, you cursed loudly, the words swallowed up by the hungry bass rattling the walls and floor beneath your feet.

Silco had said it had to be that one. The bastard stated that rule explicitly yet hadn’t reserved the booth in any discernible way, and now you were meant to fight for it. Irritation rose to a low simmer in the pit of your stomach as something told you he hadn’t just overlooked this possible outcome.

Grumbling, you rolled your shoulders back and approached the table, branding a placating, apologetic smile on your face.

“Hey guys.”

The woman looked up at you from where she’d been staring dully at the surface of the table, the life in her eyes seeming to flood back.

“So sorry to butt in here.” You shot her a knowing look. “Truly. But there’s been a mistake, this table is supposed to be reserved for me and my friend. I-“

The man interrupted you, waving his hand in the air as if you were a pesky fly.

“No, no, no.”

“…Pardon?”

“We just sat down. You and your friend can find another table.” You recoiled at the man’s unwarranted cockiness. He turned back to his date, who was starting to look as repulsed as you felt.

Attempting appeasement, you placed your palms lightly on the surface of the table.

“Listen, I understand the frustration. Really, I do-“

“You need to get out of our face. There’s a booth right there.”

So much for appeasing.

“Here’s the thing,” you snipped. “I need this one.”

The woman started to get up, gathering her things. The man gestured to her. “Sit back down, she has no right to-.”

“It’s reserved,” you interrupted, taking a page out of his book.

“I don’t give a shit what it is.”

The wood of the table clacked as you tapped your knuckles against it. A meanness began to corrode its way through your chest cavity and your lip curled nastily.

“I’m doing your date a service. She’s been eyeing the exit ever since you opened your mouth.”

The booth squawked as the man stood up. You stumbled backward a few steps. In a second, the man was in your space, finger pointing at you furiously, attempting to intimidate through bullying what he couldn’t with his stature. Your hand danced across the outside of your pockets instinctively, feeling the indent of the pocketknife within. In your periphery, his date threw her purse over her shoulder and rushed out, cursing softly.

“Relax,” you said, forcing yourself to stop in your nervous retreat as he crowded you so closely, your nose scrunched at the cloying smell of his hair gel.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are?”

The perks of your new reality struck you then, your arms dropping loosely to your sides as something powerful and undefined began to lap at the edges of your consciousness.

“I’m going to ask one more-“

“It’s reserved by my boss,” you said abruptly, heart pounding in anticipation as you lined yourself up for a home run.

“Oh yeah? And who’s that?”

You closed the space between you further, inches from his face, hardly believing your own gall.

“Big eye symbol hanging outside this place, you seen it?” Never had you seen anyone’s face drain of color so quickly. You drove the nail home. “That guy.”

You exhaled as he took a troubled step back, looking you up and down, fear and residual anger dueling on his features.

You grinned. “Sorry about the date, but she wasn’t going to fuck you anyway.”

He seethed, lips curling into a snarl before he turned to stomp away, before he could do anything stupid. Your eyes tracked his movement with a heady self-satisfaction.

You turned to claim your prize, and shrieked, hand leaping to your chest.

“How the hell did you manage to sneak by?”

Jinx concluded a wild round of applause from where she was perched on the table, legs dangling off the edge. The wide grin on her face was eerily pronounced under the flare of the purple and blue strobes.

“That was amazing.”

“Really?” You wiped your sweaty palms down the front of your pants. “I totally just used your dad to save my own ass.”

“Uh-uh, no way, you were cruel as a cucumber.”

The mis-phrase made you smile up at her, and you decided you never wanted to hear it spoken the correct way again. Coming to a stop in front of her, you wriggled your bag off your shoulder and plopped it onto her lap.

“I think I looked like a deflating circus balloon.”

“Only a little.”

Jinx rifled through the bag, eyes glimmering with a manic kind of joy.

“You bring the best stuff. No wonder my dad is keeping you around.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, and a little bit of annoyance at the idea of him keeping you around. “Meaning?”

“Just surprised is all. He’s picky about people.”

There was no trace of mischief on Jinx’s face. If anything, she seemed completely oblivious to the impact of the casual, cryptic words. What they implied, you weren’t sure and knew, at least for now, that you didn’t want any clarification.

Not appreciating the direction your stream of consciousness was flowing, you dammed it back with silliness.

"Alright, let's go, you clown," you said, latching your fingers onto the wooden framing that arched over the booth and swinging your way in, landing in a gargoyle-like crouch. With zero hesitation, Jinx followed suit, laying backwards onto the table and rolling sideways until she toppled, her forehead smacking against the leather upholstery so loud that you both fell into a bout of keeling laughter. Her twig-like legs kicked wildly into the air from where she lay across the seat.

Catching your breath, you snagged a box off the counter and crossed your legs beneath you. “Ever play Candyland?”

She popped back up, her hair wild and staticky, strands reaching out in every direction but her head.

“Only with my dad.”

You snorted again, heart warming at the bizarre, yet sweet visual. You couldn’t help it: mothers doting on their children at the marketplace, fathers with toddlers high on their shoulders, cackling with glee. Ruthless crime lords playing a game of Candyland with their adoptive daughters between high-stakes criminal dealings. You’d never had anything of the sort, at least in your formative years, but had wanted it more than anything.

“Is he any good?”

“No.” She frowned. “But I think he lets me win.”

You hunched your shoulders and lunged toward her fiercely.

“Well, I won’t. I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”

Fireworks exploded in Jinx’s pupils, her lips curling into a cunning, feline smirk, eerily resemblant of her father’s.

“Bring it on, knife girl.”

You played Candyland for a bit, both of you cackling as the other lost a turn or were sent back to the start. You stood up at one point, bashing your fist down on the table, sending pieces flying, as the two of you got into a heated, but playful argument over the fact that you had once again lost, despite the game being entirely chance-based.

It was about an hour in when you’d made your first mistake.

“I’m sorry about last week.”

It was a simple apology. Clearing the air. Or so you’d thought.

Jinx’s shoulders stiffened imperceptibly. “No biggie.”

“Biggie.” You placed your palm gently on your bag, where Jinx was fishing at the bottom for candy like a cat rooting around the inside of a cardboard box. She peered up at you, eyes glazed over slightly. “I should’ve let you know I was going to be late.”

“I wasn’t mad.” Her voice had a hard edge to it.

You studied her agitated expression and immediately wished you hadn’t said anything. From her eyes alone, you could tell you were treading some delicate line, that just one more snap of an invisible rubber band had the potential to send her skyrocketing somewhere unreachable.

“It was an accident.”

You concluded, then and there, that Jinx did, in fact, have a propensity for exploding things and had used the Last Drop as her personal demolition zone last week. And based on Sevika’s reaction, you could assume that it hadn’t been the first time she’d flown off the handle. You thought back to what Silco had said. That you’d put her into a state of distress.

You lifted your palm from the bag as she stared at you with bladed eyes.

“I know it was.”

The rest of the night, Jinx was noticeably quieter, that same crackling, electric energy she possessed very much present, but manifesting differently. Her impossibly expressive eyes painted a portrait of the state of her mind, two live wires of different voltages, forced together repeatedly in a flurry of sparks. She would be poking her tongue out, giggling at your silly faces, and the next moment her eyes would be glassed over, glancing around uncertainly, as if trying to place where she was. Then, you’d have to reel her back in again.

Once, you’d asked her if she wanted to call it quits early, but she’d shaken her head, beaming at you eerily. “What, you a quitter?”

Later on, you spotted one of Silco’s crew lumbering toward you and you knew he’d come to fetch Jinx, that the night was coming to a close. Jinx noticed, too, a pout plumping her bottom lip.

She slid down in her seat, like she’d suddenly morphed into a blob of gelatinous goop.

“Next week, you bring something to do, huh? Since my games are too easy for you,” you said.

Two blue eyes popped over the edge of the table, shining at you dangerously.

“Anything?”

“I mean.” You were already biting back your words. “Within reason.”

What that meant to Jinx, you had no clue, but she hopped up out of her seat excitedly.

“I’ve got some ideas! See ya next time!”

Jinx waved at you emphatically and made to skip away, but paused abruptly, turning back around. Her searching gaze danced across your face for a moment before she lunged forward, nearly knocking you backward in an unexpected hug. You were as stiff as a sheet of plywood, the contact unfamiliar and strange, arms raised awkwardly in the air as you made startled eye contact with Silco’s crew.

There was a long moment where you didn’t respond. Didn’t know how, really. It wasn’t that you didn’t like hugs, you had just never quite gotten the hang of how to properly receive one. Relaxing slightly into the young girl’s hold, you delicately encased her.

You felt, more than heard, the quiet muffling into your shirt.

“Hm?”

“You’ll come back?”

You rested your chin on top of her head and glanced toward the balcony, wondering what Silco truly thought of the girl's immediate attachment to you. That same sense of protectiveness surged in your chest.

“I’ll see you next week, Jinx.” You emphasized with a squeeze, before releasing her into the swelling crowd of the bar.

The warmth of Jinx’s hug quickly dissipated from your skin and you found yourself sitting and staring at the spot the girl had occupied, unable to comprehend how a simple hug left you feeling more bereft, lonely. Time by yourself really had done a number.

You’d half expected the crew man to be carrying your payment, but all he’d done was shrug when you asked him what you were supposed to do. You considered not going upstairs at all, forfeiting your weekly stipend altogether, the idea of it suddenly seeming distasteful, wrong, after the vulnerability Jinx had just shown you.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, losing yourself in thought.

____________

Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the slow, steady pacing of a predator.

You knocked.

The creaking of the floorboards paused.

“Come in.”

Your legs turned to jelly, toes curling into your boots to steady yourself outside of the tiger’s den before entering.

At his jarring nearness, your heart catapulted recklessly across your ribcage. He wasn’t close by any means. He was across the room in fact, yet he felt inches away, nothing between you and him this time. No desk. No balcony railing.

Silco’s slender frame stood at a diagonal, still slanted marginally away from the door, as if he’d frozen mid-step. The same crisp maroon shirt clung to his form, a brown, exquisitely detailed waistcoat hugging his torso down to the tops of his narrow, streamlined hips, where his left hand was perched loosely.

On the couch, an intimidating overcoat of the same two colors, emblazoned in gold detailing, lay neatly, as if he’d returned just recently from an outing. There was nothing about the man that wasn’t expensive, that didn’t feel masterfully crafted.

Silco hadn’t acknowledged you yet, his head turned just a fraction, side profile cutting severely through the gentle, bathing glow of the Undercity behind. You admired the way his aquiline nose jutted out, giving him a haughty, yet undeniable charm.

It was as if he had been erected right there in the middle of the room, an unmoving, ethereal statue. He required no words to intimidate, the force of his presence was enough to claim ownership of any room in which he merely stood.

Silco’s unseen arm lifted as he quietly took a sip of the drink you hadn’t realized he was holding. You felt an urgent, all-encompassing need to break the silence as you watched his lips capture the glass, throat bobbing.

“Hello.”

Only his orange, burning eye was visible as it darted over to seize your inquiring gaze. Your skin prickled as it trailed down your figure lazily, sizing you up as a spider would, deliberating on the contents of its web. His eye rolled back up to meet yours. The scarred corner of his lip quirked slightly.

“Hello.”

You toyed briefly with the idea of performing a dramatic pivot and marching back out his door and down the countless number of stairs you’d just climbed. But instead, you shut yourself in, noticing for the first time, the thick, golden deadbolt locks that adorned each double door, at the very top and bottom. Safeguards to keep people out. Or in.

Silco sighed, almost bored, eyes dropping to his drink that he swirled lazily in his hand. “I suppose you’ve come for your pay.”

He placed the half empty glass down before finally moving, prowling the front edge of his desk, dragging the tips of his fingers absentmindedly as he went, as if picking up dust. He pinched his fingers, holding them up to the light dispassionately as he rounded the side of his desk.

Something dangerously on the brink of disappointment poked at you sharply. The money, the moment it hit your hand, would officially end the night.

“You might get an anonymous complaint,” you said.

Silco stilled, seafoam green singling you out this time.

“Oh?”

“I had to break up a really uncomfortable first date. To get that booth.”

Slowly, he turned, leaning his hip into the desk and hinging one ankle across the other, his half-lidded eye glazed with indifference.

“And you wish for what, a congratulations?”

“No, no.” You adjusted your tight grip on the bag you were holding. “Just wanted to cover my ass in case there were any wild accusations.”

“Such as?”

“Like that I weaponized your name. Or something.”

His orange eye flashed.

“A hypothetical, I take it.”

“Most definitely.”

Beneath dark brows, Silco observed you steadily. You swallowed dryly, his burning scrutiny tracing the quick movement.

Ages passed before he reacted. From where his palm rested on the desk, his index finger tapped once in affirmation of something before he pushed himself to his full height, stalking over to a well-stocked drink cart, where he grabbed another tumbler.

“That bad?”

You grinned, despite his back being turned.

“The woman was about ready to lobotomize herself with her own straw.”

The clink of glass on glass in the quiet room was startling as he poured from a dark-colored decanter. You wished you could see his face.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me the mess.”

“No need.”

In the silence that followed, you took the opportunity to glance about the room. Under the blinding tunnel vision of your nervousness, you’d never actually absorbed any of your surroundings. It wasn’t a revelation that the man had a theme, crimson and gold, but the office, through a fresh lens, was surprisingly colorful. A blue, diamond-patterned rug beneath the gold talons of his desk. A soft, rose-shaded leather couch with a large painting above it, depicting a tumbling boat crashing across treacherous waters. A beautiful gramophone sitting on the dark wood of a side table next to his desk.

It was a collector’s den, with a variety of antiques that spoke of his taste for collecting the finer things and putting them on display. You smiled softly at the mug Jinx had painted, sitting proudly at the very front and center of his desk.

The sound of a decanter being corked brought your attention back to Silco, who, to your utmost surprise, was turning with two drinks in his hand.

“Must you linger in every doorway? Or just mine?”

You blinked at him owlishly.

“Just yours, honestly.”

Your eyes fell questioningly to the second glass in his hands.

“Is that…”

“No. I was so thirsty I fashioned myself two whiskeys,” he said impatiently. “Take it.”

It didn’t appear as if he had any intent to harm you, but it was always prudent to keep your wits about you when in the presence of a wild animal. And that’s what he reminded you of, a beast you must always approach with caution, lest its jaws surprise you by clamping down.

Your nose twitched irritably, and an arrogant curl of his lips told you he could sense your restraint. Where he drew his lines, you had no idea. Best to take these things one step at a time, much like your current, literal approach toward Silco’s outstretched arm.

You tilted your head up in false bravado but couldn’t help the way your knees quaked as they jerked you forward across the room and toward the looming man.

You tilted forward to pluck the drink from his hand, the side of your index finger grazing against his in your haste. With a small shock, your hand jerked backward, liquid sloshing lightly, a droplet landing on your exposed wrist bone. You took a step back, stomach pitching at the way he carefully scrutinized you down his nose.

”Thank you,” you muttered.

”You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but avert your eyes, his voice closer than ever.

Silco made his way to his seat, a whisper of amusement on his face, and so did you, feeling thoroughly humiliated by your uncharacteristic submissiveness.

Silco settled into the pompous highback, swirling his drink in his palm. “Any other hypotheticals I should be made aware of?”

You dropped your bag onto the ground at your feet, reeling at the fact that he was indulging you in conversation. “I told him you’re my boss.”

“Is that so untruthful?”

“I don’t know. It seems kind of…” you looked at him, conflicted. “Ingenuine.”

Silco’s eyes fell in silent scorn to the way your nails clanked restlessly against the glass in your hand. “Elaborate.”

“The title. It implies that I’m working for you… Which I guess I am. Or that I’m doing this for money... Which, I guess I am.” You slapped your palm noisily against your forehead at how stupid you sounded. It was exceedingly difficult to form an intelligent sentence while his eyes burned into yours, so you found yourself glaring, exasperated, at the silk, white tie cinched perfectly against his throat. “I just can’t help but feel lousy accepting money to hang out with Jinx. Because if I had the money to spare, I’d do it for free. It feels like I’m being… dishonest or something.”

Silco’s head cocked as he scrutinized your words, a peculiar emotion knitting his brows together before his features smoothed into an icy indifference.

“Were you hoping I’d soothe your conscience?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling no different than any of his antiques, your restraint on full display for the impudent man.

“If I needed my conscience soothed, I’d go to Babette’s.”

"Ah yes, if you're seeking honesty, go to Babette's." You were taken aback by the acid in his tone, his eyes flashing wrathfully.

“Detestable Yordle,” he growled low. Your fingers tightened on your glass. “Impossible to dispose of.”

It was abundantly clear there was bad blood there, but you barely contained a snort at the visual of the tiny, wise-cracking woman getting under Silco’s skin. He was at a loss, though. Babette’s would go belly-up without, well, Babette.

“I hear she loves fresh peaches if you're ever looking to make nice."

The look he gave you could freeze hell over twice. "Make nice."

"Bad choice of words."

He sighed, tilting back into his chair, leaning one elbow on an armrest while he studied you heatedly over the rim of his swirling glass.

You readjusted the nervous grip you had on your own drink, finding yourself at an unusual loss for words.

“So.” The lull in conversation made it suddenly necessary to fill the silence. You gestured with your head over to his coat laying on the couch, “Do anything interesting today?”

Right away, you blanched, realizing how suspicious you sounded.

Silco's good eyebrow cocked slightly.

“Don’t answer that. I regret the question.”

With deliberate leisure, he polished off his drink, setting it on the desk with a soft thud that echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room. The chair creaked as he crossed his legs.

“Is that why you're here, then?” he asked softly.

The room dropped several degrees.

“To share a drink? Infiltrate my good will?" A corner of his lips lifted into a lethal smirk, chin dipping. "Clever. Perhaps I should've been keeping a closer eye on you."

Your narrowing gaze darted between orange and green. He couldn't possibly think...

”Hm?" His head tilted, prompting.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You should be. Sorry.”

The seconds drew out like taffy and you felt the first bead of perspiration on your forehead as you sat with a growing nervousness. He stared at you, calculated, like a cat would, curiously batting a mouse between its paws.

"I haven't done anything," you whispered indignantly to him, leaning in, as if the real accuser was pointing at you from across the room.

"I know." Silco sniffed dispassionately. “You’d make a terrible spy.”

There was a long silence before your shoulders dropped. You weren’t foolish enough to say it out loud, but you made sure he saw the sentiment clearly in your eyes.

Asshole.

Silco’s soft chuckle reminded you of the first roll of thunder before a storm.

There was a lull of silence while you clenched your cup tightly with both hands on the desk, ears burning with annoyance at having to hold your tongue. A mysterious heat was bleeding out of you, concurrent with your adrenaline. Instead of using words, you held his gaze, nails clanking out a purposefully loud, frenzied tune on the outside of the gold-rimmed glass.

Silco frowned, and then looked in disapproval at your untouched drink. You practically huffed, raising it to your lips. You thought you were prepared, but the liquid rolled down your throat like a freight train and you just barely managed to swallow a single sip, grimacing like you'd just taken a shot of lemon juice.

"Holy-" you began, coughing. "That's really strong."

Silco hummed, eyes glittering.

"I think I'd manage alright," you dared to finish, drawing his attention away from your display. You cleared your throat of the burn, voice hoarse. "As a spy."

"You read like a picture book."

There was a long pause.

"Interesting, at least? Good plot?"

"No.”

It was your turn to frown.

It wasn't long after that when you felt your banter easing to what felt like a natural close for the night. You thanked him for the drink and excused yourself, not wanting to overstay. The man had a city to run after all. But as you turned, he called your name softly.

A money pouch dangled between his fingertips and he noticed the way your lips twisted with no small amount of guilt. Silco tilted his head sharply toward the couch.

“I was overseeing the disposal of an old friend.” His gaze honed on your hands fiddling at your sides and then rose again. "River."

His unwavering, expectant stare heated you like a coal forge, growing uncomfortably warm the longer you stood inside it. As you studied him in kind, you wondered whether he felt the same ineffable pull. Or if this was just a part of his magnetic craft.

His words were strangely affirming and you drifted back, allowing him to drop the pouch into your open palm. You stood staring at it for a long moment, before raising your eyes to his, allowing your lips to slowly curl into a sly smile.

“How mundane.”

You received a vicious smirk.

“And tedious.”

_________________

When you were younger, the older kids at the orphanage had allowed you to tag along on their criminal escapade to the Piltovan Zoo after hours. Ecstatic to be included, but quietly nervous, you’d clung onto your brother’s arm as you’d stood before the enchanting, golden arches of the admissions gates, your friends dancing in the fountain out front, water raining down from a marble elephant’s trunk.

You'd felt invincible, evading the night guards and climbing your way over high walls so as not to set off alarms. Safely inside, you’d followed Stefan to the koi pond, where you'd sat, watching the fish flail their plump bodies across the water for bits of bread.

At a low growl, your head had turned to the shadows.

You’d peered around, finding the older kids still laughing with the howling chimpanzees and their babies, who poked tiny fingers through the cages. Stefan remained hunched over the pond.

The darkness called to you like a siren. Quietly, so as not to alert your brother, you’d ventured alone toward the shadowy enclosures in the back, your friend’s laughter growing dim as you’d tip-toed toward the source of the snarling fury.

A light flickered feebly over the head of a lone female tiger, pacing back and forth. Back and forth. Scattered around her were bits of newspaper, a silicone ball, ripped and toothed way past its expiration date. A pull-rope, intended for stimulation, was hung untouched along the concrete wall. But still she’d paced, shoulders rolling hypnotically, hunched low.

Climbing over the first glass partition, you had sat cross-legged in front of the metal cage, a sense of familiarity drawing you into her delicate solitude.

“Hello,” you’d said, fingers lacing through the bars, head pressed hard against the cold metal.

The tiger had paused in her distressed musings to pin you with her gleaming, yellow-eyed stare. Licking her chops, she had hung her head, and you’d watched, enamored, as she had approached, coming to a halt before you.

In a moment too swift for the human eye, she had lunged, her snout jamming against the bars in a clash of teeth and metal. You’d never thought to scream, just gasp as the creatures nose huffed inches away from yours.

Scooting backward in heart-pounding anxiety, you’d studied her from the floor as she did from above, paws framing where your head had been, her claws oddly retracted.

And then she’d resumed her pacing, as if it were her born duty.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Throned at the top of the food chain, utterly alone. Unchallenged. Bored to madness by a brain too intelligent, too hungry.

You think you understand now.

<3 <3 <3

I'm still pretty new to tumblr so if you enjoyed and/or feel inclined to help me get my writing out into the ether, I'd be ever so grateful. But if not, I am still just very happy to be here existing in such an amazing fandom.

Here's the AO3 link if you want to kudos or comment or check out my other works! Your feedback means the world! Thank you!

Stay unhinged, my friends

Love, Sulty <3

Click here to be added to taglist!

@of-the-argonath hi

#silco #silco arcane #silco fanfic #silco x reader #silco x you #reader insert #arcane #take a seat

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ao3gobi17 · 5 months

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What would Quaritch do if he keeps Spider with him for a couple years but then Spider gets married young and Quaritch likes the husband/wife and he lets Spider move out because he’s married but then Spider and the spouse run away, move without giving their new address/any communication.. would Quaritch hunt them down or leave them since Spider is an adult? Also would it make a difference if Spider and husband/wife had a baby at this point? 🤍🤍

For this scenario to have happened, Spider and spouse would have had to have really pulled a fast one on Quaritch! He would have been convinced that they were going to stay in close contact which involves fully trusting both Spider and the spouse. It is possible... if we take the scene in last chap as an example, Spider said "I wanna stay with my dad" very blatantly because he wanted to see the laptop screen - and everyone else in the room seemed to be well aware of that except for Q. You could argue that Q probably did know it too but chose to interpret it differently. So there's space for Spider to be convincing and maybe a tinier space for a spouse to be too.

What would be far more likely if Spider was young is Quaritch saying the spouse has to move in with them (assuming he also approves of the spouse) and they can move out when they're older. He would probably discourage Spider from marrying young in general.

But if your scenario did happen then absolutely Quaritch would hunt them down. I doubt a grandchild would make much difference because he'd be hunting them down anyway. In a scenario where he somehow still has Spider but the spouse and grandchild have done the runaway, Q in that case would do the hunt down his grandchild, but would not specially hunt the spouse unless Spider asked him to.

#gobibside #custody

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thompsborn · 6 months

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Hi! How are you?

First, thank you for create tbaf and hb, I really love the au's you create and how you tell stories, idk you are amazing. I just needed to tell you :D

Now, I'm sorry if this ruins the 'no spoilers' but can you say if there is a happy ending for homeward bound series or is there not one planned yet?

Have a nice day, thanks!

hello!! i’m pretty good, actually! i hope you’re doing good, as well!!

no one has to thank me for tbaf and hb, these two projects have been very fun to write and have helped me a lot in terms of developing my writing styles and exploring different approaches to writing in general, and i genuinely LOVE writing them (even if i sometimes go a Very Long Time between updating them lmao) so please no need to thank me!! thank YOU for reading them !! ❤️❤️❤️

honestly i’m not against giving spoilers, i’m more just worried about posting them and anyone who may have wanted to avoid them getting upset? it happened a few times back when i wrote reddie fics (the reason i stopped writing for the it fandom is because i would get a lot of messages and asks that were in general not nice and very demanding about what i write and how often i post and it just took all the fun out of it) so i’m just like… overly cautious probably lmao

but!! if anyone WANTS vague spoilers, there are some that i don’t want to share at all because i’m very excited to see peoples reactions to them (there are things i haven’t even told oddy, who i have messaged A Lot about hb and have told the most about my plans for it) but i’m down for some spoilers/hints !!

here’s my compromise i guess for anyone who WANTS to see these hints and mild/vague spoilers and stuff: i’m down to post them, but i’m gonna put them under a read more tab and maybe i’ll start a hb spoiler tag?

homeward bound fic is my tag for the series (i also follow the tag in case anyone else ever wants to post about it pfkfkf) but i’ll tag this homeward bound fic spoilers and any posts in the future that drops hints and shit will be tagged the same !!

anyway, your question: will hb have a happy ending? look under the cut if you’d like to see my answer!!

okay, so here’s some transparency about the series: i don’t have the whole thing planned out.

i have a lot of ideas and i have certain things decided and vague ideas about the other parts, but past the last three chapters of the first fic, i don’t have like proper outlines or anything just yet. i didn’t even have a plan for the first fic when i posted the first like two or three chapters—i was coming up with it as i wrote it and it wasn’t until i was a couple chapters in that i started planning ahead because it was at that point that i realized how massive i wanted the fic to be and it was around that time that i started thinking about making it a series instead of a stand alone fic.

i’m still trying to decide who the antagonists of the second fic are gonna be (i know one, but i’m debating adding more and am ironing out subplots and such)

basically: i don’t know how the series is going to end yet. i’m planning on having the four main fics that will basically be the main story, and then having additional one shots/short fics that kind of fill in gaps and provide moments after college, as the four fics are supposed to encompass one of their school years. this might change, i might make it three fics or add a fifth one or something, but as of now that’s my plan.

while i don’t have the actual ending figured out, i can say with certainty that i want it to be a good ending. maybe not necessarily a super happy one, but it’s not going to end in tragedy. harley and peter are going to have a future together. the spidey squad is going to remain a found family and support system for each other. (also the spidey squad is going to consist of more than the core four we currently have, but i’m not going to spoil that part. it’ll start to be clear who else will be in it group as the series continues. matter of fact, the last chap of the first fic starts that process!)

the one shots that i plan to write based after the end of the main fics will have a lot of snapshots of moments as they all grow up — ups and downs, highs and lows, relationships taking next steps and having fights and making up and everything in between.

this answer is kind of long and rambly, sorry, let me try to summarize my answer in a few sentences:

while the ending of homeward bound has not been officially decided, it is not going to be a bad ending. it’s not going to end in sadness or tragedy. that being said, it might not be a super upbeat ending either, because life will always have its struggles, but the ending will be hopeful and happy in whatever way is most fitting of the series once it ends.

hopefully that answers your question well enough? idk i don’t wanna make it sound like it doesn’t have a happy ending at all, because i definitely want the best for these characters and their futures, but homeward bound has, at its core, been the embodiment of being a realist—not an optimist, not a pessimist, but a realist. the reason i started writing the first fic was because in the emotional turmoil following nwh, i wanted to try and take a realistic approach towards what peter’s story could be following the spell and may’s death and the loss of everything that his life used to be. and also wanted to explore how harry and gwen could be introduced and how harley could be brought into the loop. and of course as a parkner shipper how to make it into parkner as well lol.

life is hard. these characters have been through a lot (and will go through a lot more as the series progresses) but they are strong and they are full of love for each other and that will get them through it.

thank you for the ask!!! genuinely i LOVE answering questions about my fics and having a chance to ramble about them so please feel free to send more!!

#parkner #homeward bound fic #homeward bound fic spoilers

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inconvenient-sneezes · 2 years

Text

THANK you to @buckysnose for the request, support, and general love 💕 and thanks for waiting :’)

this’ll be a late ’30s drabble bc i love them :3

***

prompt(s): soup + grudge

***

“Please open this door, Bucky.”

Steve’s practically begging. He’s been sick for nearly 2 weeks and just started feeling better when Bucky came down with his flu.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then what sounds like a sneeze muffled into a blanket. “H-hihH! Hh’TSHHHHP!” Another gasp. “HahH! Hih’TSSCHHHHH!”

He raps on Bucky’s bedroom door again with his knuckles. “I know you’re in there. I can hear you sneezing.”

“Go away, traitor,” Bucky huffs.

Steve sighs, resting his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get you sick. Don’t be such a pill. Besides, I made soup.”

“Fide,” Bucky croaks, sniffling.

Bucky sure is a sight for sore eyes. He’s sitting up in bed in his pajamas, nose pink and chapped, hair disheveled. His pajama top isn’t buttoned properly and exposes his whole chest.

“Oh, Bucky,” Steve says, setting the soup on the nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed. “You really don’t look well.”

He doesn’t respond, but instead makes a wild grab for his handkerchief. “Sorry, I’ve godda sd-sdehhh...” His lip curls and it’s over. “H-huh’HHHRRRSHHHOO! Hh’PSSCSCHHHHOO!”

“God bless.”

“Th-thags,” Bucky chokes out before muffling another strong sneeze into the damp cloth. “H-hih’RRRMPPFT! Hoo.” He exhales, shaking his head a bit. “Sorry, thad last one sduck up od be.”

Bucky’s normally bright eyes are glazed and shining, and Steve guesses he has a fever.

“Why don’t you drink some water, huh?”

Once Bucky’s occupied, Steve takes the opportunity to button up his top. “You’ve gotta be just freezing.”

As if on cue, Bucky shivers when Steve’s icy hands brush across his bare chest. “Dot really. B-bud—”

He can’t stop himself and Steve’s hands are still all over him. “I’b godda— HURESHHHHHOO!” He barely turns his head to the side in time.

“Alright, hotshot.” Steve can’t help smiling at how adorable he looks right now, all tucked into bed. “In the mood for some soup?”

“I kdew you were cooking sobethig, but I couldn’t figure id out,” Bucky says thickly, scrubbing his itchy nose with the back of his hand.

“Navy bean soup,” Steve says, handing him the steaming bowl. “You’ll love it.”

“I already do,” Bucky says, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin. “Thags, Sdeve.”

***

request some stuff/give me feedback!!

read more stucky stuff!!

ask me about my commissions!!

#basically any historical stucky snz shit gets me #so sometimes i like to try historical stucky snz shit #snz #snez #snzblr #snezblr #capsnz #mcusnz

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silvertsundere · 8 months

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Silver Talks AniManga (03/09/23)

there's a jump serialization round coming up soonish with 3 new series so there's gonna be a few ending in the next couple weeks, starting today with fabricant, and then tenmaku and do retry in back to back weeks. wish it was ichinose instead of tenmaku but oh well

blue - finale/completed

Anime

Pokemon Horizons Ep20

didn't like this episode at all. I was excited for horizons since ash FINALLY got retired and we were getting a female protagonist. when I saw roy I was worried riko would start getting pushed to the sidelines in favour of him, since he's just ash 2, and this episode was a lot of that. they had a contest between riko and roy and riko was winning easily, until plot armor had to come in and hand roy the victory, she could've won but hesitated seeing roy being so into it. and then they battle kabu and a gym trainer, only for riko to throw the match she coulda easily won, against the trainer since she needed to win it. and then we had all these lines from kabu telling her "hey maybe you could do something else you don't need to do battles just cause you're a trainer" it's just like I said months ago. it's just extremely lame and cowardly but I guess I expected too much from the pokemon anime

Atelier Ryza Ep10

last week I said they may have been deviating from the game but they're back on track in this one. tho the game still didn't have lila and empel going into the woods, unless I completely missed that when I was looking at the playthrough last week. anyway, lots of cute ryza faces in this ep so that was good. considering where we are, and where the anime is gonna end, I wouldn't be too surprised if they announced another season for like summer or fall next year, to cover the rest of the game, but we'll see

Zom 100 Ep6

nice ep, idk if it'll happen but I hope akira kills the boss guy next episode would be a nice point to stop before the recap on the following week

Manga

Fabricant 100 Ch36 (Finale)

it's finally over. tbh I kinda forgot it was gonna end this week but it did. honestly shoulda given it a 4 like alien's area but it got to run a bit longer and approach the topics it wanted to cover more so I gave it a lil bump. just like the score says it was just alright. it clumsily tried to ask the question of "what is an ideal human" or "what is it to be a human" in general and came to it's own answer

the art wasn't bad but also nothing to write home about, the characters weren't that likeable or interesting for the most part and when the threat of cancellation started looming the story felt very rushed, not like it was much better before that when it was just "monster of the week". anyway it wasn't bad overall, unlike ichinose I didn't mind reading this every week and wouldn't mind seeing the author come back again in the future

Blooming Love Ch12

cute chap, it's funny seeing the mcs' friends conspiring together to look out for them and ending up going on the same date as them (even if they haven't realized it yet), expecting them to become a slow burn b romance plot but also wouldn't be that surprised if they just stayed as comedic relief like this til the end

Dandadan Ch119

the big battle is finally over so we get the good ol big feast celebration to break up the tension. it was also cute seeing the romantic tension between okarun and momo from that note she left him back in the training arc. also my guess is that the cliffhanger is just gonna be to wrap up the storyline for that youkai and she's gonna leave momo alone so we can continue the story without any loose threads

Tenmaku Cinema Ch20

as expected, the movie's good but it has a lot of issues since it's an amateur production, but it's still nice to see hajime's (and the author's) love of movies recognized. it's a shame that it didn't last longer on the jump battlefield but oh well. looking forward to the finale next week

Akane-banashi Ch76

good chap, highlighting how much akane's grown over the series and her peer's opinions of her, it sucks for my man here to come to this realization but it had been a long time coming

#silver talks animanga

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jabbage · 1 year

Text

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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thepinkwriterr · 1 year

Text

Capricorn Season Chapter Twenty-Four

Table of Contents

Word Count: 4.4k

"You're going to another Sabbath show?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes! And this time it's by myself. I get to make my own contacts and build connections."

He sighed. His brows weaved together in worry. "Why can't you just stay here with us?"

"I know you're nervous about me going off on my own," she rested her hand on his shoulder, lithe and warm, "but it's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay."

"You promise?" He stuck his pinky out and waited for her to do the same.

She hooked her pinky around his with a smile. "I promise." She then stood to get dressed, going to her suitcase as Jimmy started up again.

"But why can't you go when we don't have a show? Why must you leave us? You're our best girl."

"Lorelei will just have to suffice tonight. William is really proud of me that I landed Sabbath. They're new and already generating a lot of buzz. If we can catch them on the front side and have the photos in a couple of months everyone will want to work with the company, and me by extension. This is important."

He sighed again, looking her over. She was undressed from the waist down, which didn't help his growing anxiety about her going out. He was already jealous, conjuring images in his mind of horny men and her inability to say no. "I suppose I understand."

"You better suppose. This is good for my career. How would you feel if I bellyached about you making an album? Or going on tour."

"I see your point, darling. Just promise me you won't go off and shag some man in the club toilets."

"Well, the night is still young. I can't make any promises," she joked with a shrug.

"Come here you cheeky bint!" He grabbed her waist and pulled her onto the bed. She let out a squeal that was heard by Lorelei and Robert in the next room over. As he tickled her she only grew louder, causing the blond couple to make assumptions about their actions.

"What in the bloody hell are they up to over there?" Robert pressed his ear to the wall, waiting in silence to hear another sharp sound.

Lorelei scoffed. "You are so weird. You're intruding on them, y'know? How would you feel if they did that to you?"

"I bet Jimmy does, the ole chap. He's always been a little too fond of my hair," he mused, fluffing his flaxen curls.

Lorelei giggled. "You have such a big head."

"You think?" He said with wide eyes.

"Will you wear my bracelet?" Jimmy asked, holding tightly onto her wrist. He didn't want to let her go.

She laughed at him. He was acting like a child. "Why do you want me to?"

"Just to give you something to remember me by."

"Remember you? I'm going to a club, not Afghanistan."

He looked at her with a pained expression. "Fine," she sighed. He slipped the bracelet on her wrist with a smile.

The club was crowded and hot, packed to the brim with a slew of already too-drunk people. This club was larger than the one in L.A.; every seat was full. Luckily, she would be standing the whole show.

As the lights dimmed a wave of people cheered, roaring before the music even started. They were insatiable. She could understand why having felt the driving force of their music last week. The chemistry of the four was undeniable and produced something magical.

"This is some new material, off the album coming in a couple of months." Ozzy's voice was deep and inviting, ushering a hand to the audience to join them in their coming madness. "It's called Paranoid," he said with a flourish as the show began.

Gwen was swept in as the group dove into a stuttering number. The brooding lyrics of exile and soiled love were fitting for his outcast persona, perhaps accurate for the odd man. She had to forcibly still herself as she clicked the camera button, the music taking her over. She wanted to jump around and dance, just a,s Ozzy was. At the first show, she was unfamiliar and stunned by their prowess, but now she wanted to join in on the fun.

She did just that when the band started on NIB. She knew it already, having replayed it endlessly on the record she bought. She annoyed Jimmy with this, as he did not enjoy the heavy sounds. She thought maybe he was jealous, seeing her fawn over another English band.

Or perhaps he just didn't like the sound. He's more of a bluesy, classical fan anyway. He wouldn't get it, although a pioneer of heavy metal himself.

The flow of energy fueled her as she snapped photos. Each frame was turning out wonderfully. Although she could not see them, she knew already they would be great. She could feel the inspiration dancing in her fingers. Wi, the every movement of the band there was a synergy created. The camera was merely recording the transaction as she stood as a witness.

As the show wound to a close, the energy in the room filtered into a steady buzz. The crowd was filled with adrenaline and alcohol, the vilest of combinations.

She filled three film reels. She'd taken almost eighty photos. William would be pleased, albeit a little bitter with the price.

She didn't join the guys backstage like she originally wanted. When she checked her watch, which was borrowed from Jimmy, she saw that it was almost two in the morning. She could already feel her energy dwindling.

When she returned to the hotel, she saw Jimmy had waited. The lamp was still on, and he was sat up in bed, his lower half burrowed under the covers. He was reading, the cover's two sides resting in his hands. He was devouring a book about astrology; the same one he'd bought at the Texas bookstore.

"Hello, Gweny," He looked up to her with a smile as she entered. She gave him a sloppy greeting and crashed into the bed.

She could feel the time wearing on her weary body. This tour was doing so much damage, running her ragged as she burned the candle from both ends. Every morning was an early rise and every night stretched into the late hours. This was the penance of her job.

"I'll take it you're tired?" He spoke, stating rather than asking. She nodded her head into his arm, resting her hot and tired forehead on his skin. "Come here." He raised his arm and allowed her to crawl into his chest and curl up, lying like a cat in his warmth. "Better?" She hummed a short response and quickly succumbed to sleep.

The next morning she woke up with a joyous feeling. She looked forward to the work she was to do that night. When the morning sun rose, barely peaking from behind the clouds, she opened her eyes. Her movements woke him.

"G'mornin', love." His mumbling was barely audible.

"Good morning, Jimmy Jam. How are you?" She asked while stroking his hair.

"Would be better if you didn't call me that."

"My apologies, Jimmy. How do you feel now?"

"Like a bird with new wings." She chortled into the pillow he was laying on. His British humor was never lost on her.

"Do you want to go to breakfast?" She asked.

"Is anyone even down there? It's so fuckin' early. Why are you up?"

"I don't know, I was just spirited this morning."

"You usually aren't up unI'dI wake you. And by then, I've already been up two hours and taken a shower. It's quite cute how you're a deep sleeper."

"Thanks, I guess. No one has ever said that to me before." She turned to look at him from the skinny hotel closet. She dressed in a white shirt and short overalls, finishing the look with two messy pigtails.

"Hello, Mr. Jones." She smiled as she sat down at the breakfast table.

"We're here to ruin your quiet morning." Jimmy jested.

"No, no, you couldn't ruin my morning. I was just doing some light reading, as usual." He sat his book on the theL-ShapedIt was a copy of The L Shaped Room. "Y'know, Gwen, I think you would really like this book. It's about this girl who gets pregnant out of wedlock and her father kicks her out. She has to go live in this boarding house, and she meets all of the other denizens of the house. They are all outcasts and oppressed people. The main theme is a woman finding her own happiness through herself and her experiences. It's absolutely wonderful so far."

"That sounds like a good read. You should lend it to me when you're done. Ooo, and then we can talk about it. It'll be like our own little book club!"

"We should start one of those. You can give me a book and then we can talk about it," Jonesy's face was painted with a genuine smile.

"I actually just finished reading Sisterhood Is Powerful. It's another feminist book. It's a little more academic, but I really loved it."

Before he could give an enlightening response, Robert's loud voice filled the lobby. "Good morning, friends!" Peter was in tow, seemingly chasing the blond like he was a toddler.

"Bright blessings." Jimmy smiled.

"Huh?" Robert asked, his face twisting in confusion.

"You say merry meet, Robert. It's a greeting." Gwen said.

"Oh, merry meet, Jimmy." He felt cool now that he was in on it. He smoothed his sweater down as he sat next to Peter, who was billowing with smoke.

"I would love to give it a try after I'm done with this one. I'm always on the hunt for new books." Jonesy ignored them, pulling Gwen's attention back to him.

"What are you guys talking about?" Robert leaned into them on his elbows, a cheeky smile on his bright face. A cigarette sat between Peter's swollen fingers, the ash growing longer as he let it sit. His eyes swept over the morning paper. He was realL-Shapedignor,ng them.

"The L Shaped Room." Jonesy said.

"So, you said it's about a woman who gets pregnant out of wedlock, and she doesn't stay with the father?" She asked.

"I thought it was about a lesbian," Robert said. Gwen and Jonesy gave him a confused look.

"What?" Jonesy asked.

"Y'know, L-shaped. Lesbians. They both start with L." This made Jimmy laugh, but the other two were quiet.

"No, she isn't interested in him. It's kind of a running theme, a woman's right to choose." Jonesy pushed his comment aside.

"Where's Lorelei?" Gwen asked, bringing the attention back to Robert, much to Jonesy's chagrin.

"She's sleeping beauty. I left her good and tired last night." Jonesy grimaced and Gwen laughed. Jimmy was staring off into space, pretending he was somewhere else. "Have you heard Joni Mitchell's new album?" Robert asked, not to anyone in particular.

"Oh my god, yes! I love her so much. I didn't know you listened to her too." Gwen chose to believe he was asking her.

"I adore her too. This new album was very special. I've been wanting to show it to Lorelei." Robert was lighting a cigarette of his own now. He fished it out of the cellophane wrapper and put it between his lips.

Gwen grimaced as Robert flicked open his zippo. "I think it's their best work so far. I mean, conversation is one of the best songs I've ever heard."

"Woodstock is just marvelous, really. I think she's doing some good stuff," his lips formed around the cigarette as he spoke.

"I know! Her voice makes my soul leave my body. Jimmy, we have to have a Joni listening party when we get back home!" He nodded deftly and went back to his own imagination.

The joyful breakfast was interrupted by an overexcited Bonzo. He ran from his room, pants bunched around his ankles. "Guys, guys!" He was barreling toward the group, pulling up his pants. He buttoned and zipped as he ran closer to his confused friends. "You have to see these titties, they're crazy!" Jonesy looked to the others; confusion thick on his features. Bewilderment was passed from each person in silence. Bonzo stood, petulant and wild-eyed, coaxing them to come into his hotel room. 'causedn't see 'um last night cause I was pissed, but I saw them this morning. They're crazy!" He repeated.

The group was quite still, but Jimmy and Robert stood from their chairs, going to follow their friend. Gwen grabbed his sleeve, wrapping her fingers around his forearm, "Down, boy." She pulled him back into his seat, but Robert followed Bonzo to the room.

An uncomfortable silence sat around the table as Jonesy slurped his soup. He was trying his best to keep decorum and pretend this wasn't absurd. "So how did you enjoy the Sabbath show last night?" He asked.

"Oh, it was lovely," she started awkwardly, staring daggers into Jimmy, "They have a lot of energy so they're really fun to shoot. I'm sure my photos are going to turn out great. I had to wake up early and send them off to William. I planned to shoot them again, tonight."

Before Jonesy could make any livelier conversation the two guys were back. "Oh dear fucking god." Jonesy sighed.

"What? What could you possibly want? You two are freaks!" She said.

"Against my better judgment, Bonzo was correct. They really are quite a spectacle." Robert spoke with his usual tender and sonorous voice.

It was a gross perversion that he used this tone to speak such vile words, Gwen thought. "No, Jesus! You guys are disgusting. And it's quite terrible that you're doing this."

"Oh c'mon, don't be such a prude. They're just titties. W'emve all seen um, you've got em!" Bonzo shouted, rather excitedly.

She looked to him with a glare, "It's not the matter of seeing them, it's not consensual and gross. You can'thatjust laugh at someone like th-"

He interrupted, "This is just like the other night when you wouldn't accept my drink. We're on tour, let loose a little. Have some fun!" He implored, "You can even take some photos."

"I will not be doing that." She said as she stood. The other two guys joined her and they went on their way.

The floors creaked under their weight as they tip-toed to Bonzo's room. He pushed the wooden door lightly, the hinges squeaking as it swung open with a creak. The woman lay tangled in a mess of dark sheets like a slumbering dragon. Her body raised in light breaths, hollowing to exhale. The men looked at her as a mythical creature, while Gwen looked at her friends as foreign beings. She was disgusted by their curiosity while possessing it herself. This interest was satiated when she turned on her back, exposing her chest. The group was in awe, now understanding Bonzo's sentiment. Their spell was broken when he stepped forward, reaching for the mysterious, scarred, and lopsided chest.

"Stop it!" Gwen delivered a harsh smack to the back of his head. The sound echoed through the room, followed by his howling.

"You bitch!" He turned and caught her by the arm.

"Hey!" Jimmy started.

The slumbering woman began to stir. Everyone turned to look slowly in unison, faces covered in fear. Bonzo turned and ran from the room, scurrying through the doorway. Robert followed suit, mumbling a quick apology as he went. The woman was fully awake now, staring at them with wide and confused eyes. Jonesy backed out of the room, leaving just Gwen and Jimmy. He tried to follow his friends, but she caught his arm, holding him firm in his spot.

All she could muster was an apology. The woman sat with a sigh, covering her bare chest with the sheets. "I got a bad boob job..."

Jimmy stifled a laugh, casting his head down. Gwen slapped his arm and glared. "Don't be ashamed, it's not your fault. It's also not your fault they're a hoard of circus clowns."

She looked appreciative, "Thanks. I tried to hide it but it's not easy. I wish I hadn't even gotten it."

She was lovely, Gwen thought, outside the botched surgery. "Go on and get dressed, I'll make sure you can leave with some dignity." She pulled Jimmy from the room, wearing an angry look. "You're a fucking barbarian." But they were laughing, nonetheless.

The group returned to the breakfast table, quieter than ever. The guys, other than Bonzo, were avoiding her scorned looks. Bonzo was angrily buttering his English muffin, which he referred to as just a muffin. Gwen stared right back, not breaking contact. This was the first rift between them, the first time Gwen saw behind his façade.

"You think you're better than us, don't you?" He sat his knife down with a heavy thud. She didn't respond, simply sipping from her mug. The group looked from him to her, tension thick amongst the table. He raised his brows, prompting for an answer.

"Are you upset? You seem like you're upset." She finished with a smile. This enraged him even more.

"Fucking bitch." He slammed his fist on the table and stomped away, his chair clattering to the floor.

"You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" Peter broke the silence. "You're always riling up the boys! Your job is to take photos, I don't care if you're Jimmy's girlfriend or the bloody fuckin queen. Don't fuck with my band." His voice was getting louder with each word. The walls shook around each syllable, trembling with fear as Gwen did. Tears pricked in her eyes and she looked around at her friends. Their eyes were fixed on the ground, avoiding the situation. Her sadness and embarrassment turned to bitter anger in a swift gust of pride.

"You helped so much. Thanks, Jimmy." She was gone now, her chair emptied in a flash.

"Yeesh..." Robert said. He too left the table, his sight set on his,room. Now it sitting Jimmy, Peter and Jonesy, sat, alone. Jonesy was still eating, seemingly unbothered.

"You really fucked that one up." Jimmy was just about to leave when he heard the man speak. Jonesy's words caught him off guard. He didn't expect to be called out, one final kick in his side.

"That one's a fuckin' mess." Peter turned to Jonesy after Jimmy left. He didn't speak. Peter breathed out a heavy breath and tucked a napkin into his shirt, digging back into his breakfast. The jam covered muffin sat on his plate, untouched and isolated. He chose to devour the eggs first, saving the sweet for dessert.

When the door to their hotel room was opened, squeaking with desperation, he saw her. She was sitting on the bed, her back turned to him. She was sniffling, tears scalding her cheeks.

Guinevere was a regal name, one that conjured images of royal ambiguity. She took after the moniker, the queen's reputation for being the ultimate destruction of Arthur's kingdom ringing true for her. The walls of her castle heart were put up, the drawbridge closing, reflecting in the moat of her tears. Jimmy was dressed in a suit of armor, trying his best to break down her wooden and hardened fortifications. Her ramparts were anger, bloated by the drowning of her tears.

"You didn't say anything." The hot flash of fury showed through in her clipped cadence.

"I know, I'm sorry, but that's just how things are around here." He shuffled his feet, drawing his eyes downward to admire the fraying of his aglets.

"You were so cowardice. You didn't stand up for me."

"Cowardice? No, I just don't go causing drama where there doesn't need to be any." Now his rapier was drawn, parrying her jabs.

"When someone yells at your girlfriend, you say something about it." Another stab.

"You were the one who started it all." He evaded accountability, diving out of her range of motion.

"It seems none of you have met a woman who stands up for herself. I happen to think that's what everyone's issue is."

"Oh, god, don't start with that, you know it's not true." He was a man of dichotomy. The coin was flipped, glistening with new cruelty. This was cold and uncaring, something she'd never known of him.

"The issue is that y'all don't see anything wrong with your behavior. I just pointed that out and everyone started yelling. Sounds like that was the problem."

"No, no, the problem was that you got everyone upset. We were just having a good time before you got upset. And then you got your feelings hurt."

"You're being such a dick right now." She seethed, standing to meet his eyes.

"And you're being immature. I am not fighting with you." His arms were crossed in a dismissal of her.

"I'm not trying to fight with you. I am upset."

"You can be upset, but it's not my job to fix it."

"You're the reason I'm upset!"

"You should be upset with Peter and Bonzo. I didn't do anything!"

"That is the issue! God, it's like you're not even listening. Just- I'm gonna leave if you're gonna be like this. I'll come back when we're not angry." She planted her feet on the floor, unsure if this was the right decision.

"You're the only one who is angry." Jimmy was avoiding her, his eyes now fixated on the paintings on the walls. She sighed and left without another word.

"Yeah, and then Peter yelled at her. I thought it was a little dramatic. From both of them, really." Robert's eyes were wide as he recounted the events to Lorelei. She slept through the entire ordeal, only being woken when Bonzo slammed his door.

"They both yelled at her? Oh my god, that's terrible. Is she okay? I know I wouldn't be if Peter or Bonzo screamed at me."

"I'm sure she's fine. She's a tough cookie. That's why I like her." Robert said with a smile, his thumb resting in the cleft of her chin. Before Lorelei could respond there was a knock that interrupted them. Robert answered, pulling his door open to reveal a tear-stained Gwen.

His gaze softened when he saw her, the red puffy look that painted her face troubled him. "What's wrong?" He asked, letting her in.

"I got upset after what happened and Jimmy made it worse." She planted her face firm in his chest, enveloping her troubles in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, allowing her to cry into the soft cotton of his clothing.

"I'm sorry," was all he could muster, his parade of apologies was never-ending today. He thought Jimmy was being spineless, secretly siding with Gwen. He wouldn't tell anyone that, for fear of starting more troubles. This was all a big mess, and the reason no one got in Bonzo's way.

This happened before, but with a random groupie. Peter threw her out so fast their heads spun. He couldn't do that with Gwen, and there was an emotional attachment to this issue. He wanted it all to go away, so they could go back to having fun and being friends.

"I know I'm overreacting, but I was so upset when Peter yelled at me. I didn't feel like I deserved it, Bonzo was clearly in the wrong. And then Jimmy didn't stand up for me, so I was angry about that. And when he didn't apologize or acknowledge how shitty it was I just broke."

"Well, what happened after that?" Lorelei asked, sitting at her side on the bed.

"I told him that I would be back when I wasn't upset anymore. We were both getting mad at each other, and it wasn't productive. So, I came here because, well, you're both my only friends." She ended with a huff of a laugh, scratching at her head with confusion. How did they end up here? This was all a giant mess that never needed to happen.

The two blondes entertained her while her nerves melted, settling into a contended happiness. They watched TV, talked about a musical Lorelei had recently seen, and played some cards.

When she was thoroughly mellow, Gwen decided gathered the courage to return to her room. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Lorelei asked, her eyes soft and warm. Her gaze was a warm hug, a gentle soak in a hot spring.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm sure Jimmy will be cooled off when I get back. I'm just a little nervous because we've never gotten into a fight before."

"He'll be fine. He processes better when he's alone." Robert offered some much-needed insight. This was an extension of friendship, an offer of peace. "Things will settle and no one will be mad. I give it maybe two more hours and Bonzo will be back to his usual self." His joke lightened the mood and gave her one last push towards strength.

"Thanks, guys. I appreciate you letting me hang out."

When she returned to her room the lights were off and Jimmy was asleep. He looked peaceful under the covers, his hair spread across the white sheets in a wild display of comfort. Soft snores escaped his open lips. She settled into the blankets and cuddled up to his side, content to rest for a few hours.

The two woke to Peter knocking on their door, telling them to get up. "Ten minutes, Page. You have a job to do." She shook Jimmy, who slept through the racket.

"What?" He asked, barely lifting his head from the pillow.

"You have to get ready for soundcheck." He rolled out of the bed and onto the floor, curling up and closing his eyes once more.

"C'mon, you have to get up!" She laughed, poking him with her foot.

"Don't touch me with those filthy things." He mumbled, rolling away from her touch.

"They're not filthy, 1, and 2, you have to get up. Peter said you have 10 minutes." She said.

"Five more minutes. I'm tired." He grumbled.

"No, you have to get up!" She grabbed a hold of his thin hips and began pulling him, attempting to drag him to his suitcase. "You are way heavier than you look." He didn't budge, now laying next to his unzipped bag. "C'mon, get up. I don't want to be blamed for you being late!" He sat up at her pestering, slowly rifling through his clothing.

"Are we okay?" He asked. His leg was propped on a wooden chair that sat next to the small TV. He was tying his shoes, a pair of black converses.

"Can we talk after your show?" She asked.

"Yeah, if you promise not to yell at me." He finished with a final yank, making a perfect knot.

"Well, don't give me a reason to." She jested.

"Alright, I'll see you after the gig," He leaned into her lips, cradling her face in his soft hands.

"Enjoy your show."

"I will now." A wide smile bloomed on his face.

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin , @jimmysdragonsuit13

#jimmy page #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic #Jimmy Page smut #capricorn season #classic rock fandom #classic rock #classic rock fanfiction #jimbert

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mycreativitysblog · 1 year

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Ghee in Tummy Button

In Ayurveda, ghee is taken into consideration the most efficient solution for balancing pitta. Ghee is extensively used in Indian houses as a staple in food meals, however did you recognize it is used for the treatment of a range of health problems? A great deal of individuals are uninformed of using ghee oil for the tummy switch, and also the best results of applying ghee to the navel. We know what you are assuming, is ghee good for the stubborn belly button? Yes, it is, as well as we are right here to tell you just how.

Desi ghee not only improves the high quality of your food, but it can additionally improve the high quality of your bodily health. By using just a couple of declines of this essential oil in nabhi, you can impact your physical health in numerous ways. Let's see just how.

What are several of the benefits of Ghee for Stubborn Belly Switch?

Earthomaya Ghee moisturises your skin as well as keeps it healthy and also beautiful. Rubbing it in a circular movement in the navel area makes sure that it infects the remainder of the body, owing to the interconnectedness of the navel region to the various other parts of your body.

Are you dealing with hair autumn, or is your hair as well rough and also weak? While you remain to use coconut oil to massage therapy your hair, likewise consider using ghee oil for the tummy switch, which assists reinforce hair as well as decrease hair loss.

Ghee in the navel helps relieve any kind of type of pain that you are experiencing, especially your joint discomfort. The navel is the central part of the body as well as the acupressure point, which spreads relief to various other points in your body.

Considering that the navel is connected to the rest of the body in a very elaborate way, using desi ghee in the navel can aid in remedying the structure of your face and also skin. It helps with acnes, reduces acnes, soft and also much healthier skin appearance, improves chapped lips, and also provides you an intense skin from within. It is a much more lasting and also natural substitute for all the chemical exfoliants and lotions that a lot of us use.

Another very helpful advantage of ghee in nabhi is its capability to help fight bowel irregularity and alleviate any kind of discomfort or pain in our abdominal area. Your bowel movements clear up as well as girls, this is a terrific relief measure for your menstruation cramps.

Just how to tackle it? Which ghee should you use?

For applying ghee in the navel, get hold of a spoon as well as scoop some of the ghee out from the container. Warmth it and melt it into ghee oil. After that allow it cool and also put it right into your navel while lying down on your back. Use it before going to bed each evening for the best outcome.

We recommend pure desi ghee for this procedure, and also you can select it up from Anveshan. As a food technology company, we are giving back to Indian farmers and promoting the root cause of sustainability. Started by IITians, we are a D2C food brand offering minimally processed food made with Indian traditional means right in our towns. Our cow ghee is pure, as well as one hundred percent authentic.

The navel or stubborn belly button is frequently called our second brain. In the womb, it functions as the network to survival for the expected youngster. While the navel is the site to the solar prana, Ayurveda compares ghrita or ghee to Ojas or vital force.

As stated in the well-known ayurvedic bibles Sushruta Samhita as well as Charaka Samhita, desi ghee has tremendous restorative homes. The denigration of desi ghee in the navel lends numerous wellness benefits and also vigor. It is a ritual that has actually remained in practice for generations.

Relevance of Using Ghee on Tummy Button

Energy Junction

The stubborn belly switch or belly button forms an usual junction for a bundle (72000) of nerve fibers or energy networks in the body. These fibers are sensory and also transmit signals from the navel to the spinal cord. The spine relays signs to the mind. The mind reacts by secreting chemical materials to meet the body's requirements.

Seat of Understanding

Maharishi Patanjali says in Yoga exercise Sutra, "Nabhi Chakre Kaya Vyuh Gyanam". It approximately equates as focusing on the navel makes you gain knowledge of the entire body. In yoga exercise, the tummy button or navel (nabhi) is known as the solar plexus, the gateway to the inflow of planetary as well as solar power. That is why the navel is likewise called Manipur Chakra.

Survival Network for the Unborn Infant

When a baby remains in the mommy's womb, it obtains all its nourishment via the placenta. The placenta is a vascularized structure inside the womb that attaches the baby to its mother via the umbilical cord. The infant gets the called for nutrients from the mom with the umbilical cord. The cable is affixed to the nabhi or the navel of the infant.

Therapeutic Value

Acupuncture as well as acupressure therapies have always utilized the belly switch to heal illness. Yogic techniques like Manduk Asana highlight turning on the nabhi or navel for healing conditions. Ayurveda utilizes Nabhi Chikitsa or lubrication of the belly button to heal the body.

Standard Fighting Style

Martial arts offer relevance to the belly button because its understanding throughout body language gives power and also foreknowledge about challengers' activities.

Benefits Applying Ghee on Belly Switch or Navel

Applying ghee and rubbing the belly switch every night has numerous wellness advantages.

Helps to Get Rid Of Dirt

Cleaning the tummy button by applying ghee removes bacteria as well as gathered dirt. This maintains the tummy and also navel regions clear of any potential disorders.

Rejuvenates as well as Preserves Healthy And Balanced Skin

The navel is connected to the rest of the body elaborately. Rubbing the marine with ghee is good for the face as well as our skin. Ghee put on the navel remedies imperfections as well as supplies radiant, soft, healthy and balanced skin. It additionally enhances chapped lips and also offers a bright skin tone. The outcome is better than all the expensive organic creams on the marketplace.

Helpful for Digestion and Cures Constipation

Ghee when put on the navel leaks to the stomach. Consequently, the belly takes in all the nutrients and distributes them in the body. Ghee offers lubrication to the body, clears digestive passage, and also reduces the threat of irregularity. It helps in acid secretion in the tummy, which assists to absorb as well as soak up food faster.

Enhances Hair Top Quality

Rubbing the belly button with ghee cures hair dryness as well as provides luster to the hair. Ghee includes active antioxidant compounds which fight toxins that make hair feel heavy and also cause frizz. Vitamins An as well as E in ghee essentially problem the hair.

Eliminates Tense Joints

The joints end up being weak because of aging. Their damage results in arthritis, osteoporosis, inflammation, as well as excruciating joints. Navel, being the acupressure point, radiates the benefits of ghee to numerous joints, easing joint pain.

Boosts Fertility and also Relief from Menstrual Cramps

Normal application of cozy ghee on the stubborn belly switch can aid enhance sperm count as well as flexibility in males. It boosts fertility in females along with strengthening the reproductive system. It likewise relieves aches and also discomforts during menstruation.

Exactly How to Apply Ghee to the Stomach Switch or Navel?

For applying ghee to the navel, you can follow this routine. Warmth to thaw the ghee. Allow it cool off. Put it right into the navel while lying down on your back. For ideal results, we recommend using ghee to the navel every night prior to you go to sleep.

Conclusion

Applying desi ghee on the stubborn belly switch holds lots of benefits for our bodies. It aids in moisturising our skin, and chapped lips, boost healthy hair, benefits constipation, and additionally alleviates joint pains.

To get the maximum advantages, you should use pure as well as good quality ghee only. Shahji Ghee has a proven record in making unadulterated and also pure desi ghee making use of the typical bilona approach.

#desi ghee #a2 desi ghee #A2 Desi Ghee Cow Ghee #Desi Ghee Cow

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morwennastower · 19 days

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Accessibility and EasterCon

I belong to a discussion forum called Ship of Fools, and recently they have been discussing accessibility issues under the title "What would a disabled-friendly world look like?"

So I gave them my impressions of accessibility at EasterCon:

I've just come back from EasterCon at the Telford International Centre, which seems to have done quite well on catering for a range of disabilities. The passenger lift was reserved for mobility scooters and those who had trouble with stairs, though one lady with a larger than usual mobility scooter was using the goods lift - she said that the staff were very helpful there. There was also a Quiet Room, and a Silent Room, for anyone who wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle for a while. For some reason, the building had been designed with a slope between two levels of the upper floor, and one chap with a manual wheelchair needed help to go up it. The building also has high ceilings and good ventilation, which helped with Covid mitigation - attendees were asked to mask but only about half of them did, meaning that some vulnerable attendees were reluctant to go to panels in the smaller rooms. Some of the Glasgow WorldCon committee were there - that's happening in August - and I think they will be taking note of what worked and what didn't for their event.

There is a different committee every year for EasterCon - but next year's committee will be led by James Bacon, who was the Chair of Dublin WorldCon, as the Con will be in Belfast. Dublin WorldCon worked very hard to be accessible. He and Tommy Flanagan made a presentation at the EasterCon business meeting, and they are very keen to be accessible next year too. EasterCon had the use of several mobility scooters which had been provided by Dublin WorldCon, and I presume they'll be used next year, too. As far as air quality goes, there was a generous donation of CO2 monitors, which were in all the smaller rooms. I've been following the discussion on Discord for the Con and only one person has reported a possible positive test for covid - which is quite different from last year, when people were reporting covid during the Con itself (and following the panels from their rooms virtually). Most of the panels are available for catch up virtually, and some people were attending virtually. In fact, one of the guest speakers was in Washington, and another was in Amsterdam. There was an Indian guest speaker too - I'm not sure where he was speaking from, but it may have been India. For hearing impairment, there were seats set aside in each room for a hearing loop. I'm not sure what was done for blind or partially sighted people, but I did see a couple of blind people at the Con.

#eastercon #accessibility

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 month

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There's Such a Sad Love (Deep in Your Eyes) - Chap 2

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Memories flood through him as he rolls down the main drag of Hawkins again for the first (Okay, second actually) time in a good 17 years.

Getting ice cream with his Grandma there at the little shop on the corner, shopping for just the right shade of yarn with his Grandpa at the craft store on the next block, carefree summers to just be himself with his two most favorite people in the world.

Steve knew the expectations, the shoes he’d have to fill, as a Harrington returning to Hawkins in the wake of his Grandparents’ deaths; lucky for him though, the general consensus (when he’d talked with the local realtor and bank clerks while here for the funerals last fall) was that they’d all be glad to have Stephen Harrington III. come back, “Any Harrington really, as long as it’s not your father.” his loan officer had said.

Though no one here had known the Steve with the similar reputation as his father, he was nervous to be back and somehow find that everyone knows how much of an ass he’d been after he stopped coming back here for the summers.

He waves through the window to Joyce Byers as he drives past Melvald’s General Store. She’s actually Mrs. Hopper-Byers now that she married Hawkins’ Police Chief, but to him she’ll always be the kind Miss Joyce that would watch him during the day if his grandparents had to leave at any point over his summer visits.

It’s early, and she’s just now opening up shop, so he makes a mental note to go back in a couple hours to say Hi.

Leaving her and the quaint main street in his rear-view mirror, he continues down the highway and out of town toward his new home.

The house had long been abandoned, but Steve had fallen in love the first time he’d seen it online. Robin (his best friend, his other half, his platonic soulmate who he’d bonded with in the trenches of retail and food service, and had been inseparable from until Robin went off for school) had been the one to send him the link.

He took one look and decided he was going to buy it some day.

Whoever built it really wanted it to look older, the exterior fascia is Victorian, a mix of brick and wooden shingle siding, the interior done in a warm craftsman style, a large wooded yard, huge wrap-around porch, a giant stone fireplace…

It was perfect.

He watched the house come down in price over the years he worked at his grandparents’ restaurant (up from waiter to regional manager, a fact that he stayed immensely proud of) while he saved and made plans to buy it.

When his grandparents died, they left Steve a very large inheritance and the ownership of their restaurant chain, so he hired someone to run things for him, bought his dream house, and left Chicago.

The small U-Haul trailer he’s towing bounces over the significant crack where his cement met the asphalt of the road when he pulls into the driveway, stopping the car at the end of the drive and gets out, taking his keys out of the ignition with him.

It’s a pretty mild morning considering it’s only the end of March, the wind chilly but the sun warm. The padlock on the front gate, however, is freezing cold. He wrestles with it long enough to be embarrassing, the cold metal chilling him further.

Finally, it clicks open. Swearing in relief, Steve re-latches the lock around one of the wrought iron pickets, stuffs his keys back in his pocket, and takes his time pushing the two gates apart, ensuring they won’t swing closed on him while he drives through.

The winding driveway is pretty well grown-in, but he can’t help but find it beautiful. Right now, only the smallest buds of springtime decorate the trees, but he’s excited to see how it will look during the summer and colorful fall months.

The trees break open to the great loop of a driveway, giving him a full view of the front façade of the house, as overgrown (and lovely) as the winding drive.

Steve pulls to a stop at the front steps, and hops up the wide steps to the front door two at a time.

On the last step, his phone rings, tripping him up in surprise and nearly making him drop his keys. He fishes his phone out of his back pocket and taps the screen with one hand and continues finagling the keys into the doorknob with the other.

“Hello?”

“G’morning Dingus, you make it yet?” Robin’s voice comes through the speaker still heavy with sleep.

“Yep, just got to the house. Why’re you up?”

“I have an early class on Thursdays now ‘cause my bio science professor hates us.” He can hear her shuffling around through the call.

Steve snorts, “Oh no, a whole hour earlier then? It must be horrible to wake up at eight instead of nine–Ah ha! Success!”

“Shut up, also, ‘Success!’ what?”

“I finally got the damn door open. I swear, the gate lock was easier to get open than this–fuck…” He steps over the threshold and is suddenly freezing. “It’s cold as hell in here.”

“Sorry to tell ya this Steeb, but it sounds like you’ve got a ghost.”

“Uh huh. Or, hear me out, it’s Indiana in March and the heater hasn’t been on in the house.” Steve closes the door and pockets his keys, looking up the staircase as he passes to its left towards the kitchen. “Also, why is that your first thought? You’re going to scare yourself into never coming to visit.”

“You got that right, I’m gonna stay my ass right here where it’s not haunted as fuck.”

Steve reaches the kitchen and takes in the sight of all the open, empty, cabinets. 'Well, at least I know there’s no mice.’ he thinks, immediately scanning for the automatic garage door opener his realtor said she left here for him.

“Rob, you do know you go to school in New England, right? In an old-ass school. Your whole campus is probably ‘haunted as fuck’ too.”

Robin is silent for a solid couple seconds. “Damn it, Steve, now why’d you have to go and tell me that..”

“Go ask your girlfriend about it, I'm sure she’ll know all about them.”

“Probably! And then she’ll go into a spiel about all the deaths on campus over the years which I do NOT wanna know about.” There’s another pause, “Also, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Uh huh…” Steve mutters, unconvinced, as he doubles back toward the front of the house and into the butler’s pantry to look for the remote, Robin rambling on in his ear about how said girl, Vickie, “probably doesn’t even like boobies”, and “even if she did, what makes you think she’d like mine?”.

‘Damn, where the hell is it?’ Steve comes up empty-handed from his search in the pantry so he heads back to the kitchen only to stop dead in his tracks.

All the cabinets are closed.

“That’s…weird.”

“And I think she likes me—What’s weird?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing, I’m looking for the garage door opener and it wasn’t in the kitchen so I went into the panty…I just swear these cabinets were open just a second ago. Like…all of them were, and now they’re not.”

“Aha! See? Ghost!”

“See? Draft!” He mimics back in the same tone “Just a…really big one I guess…”

“Nuh uh, nope, nope, nope, that’s ghost shit and now you’re gonna get possessed and start killing people and I’m gonna be down a best friend…”

“It’s all good, Bobs, it was just a draft…” She hums at him non-committedly in response, and Steve can’t resist riling her up again. “Or maybe it’s a ghost-butler who was murdered by his last employer. OOOOoooohhhh!!” he can’t help but wiggle his fingers teasingly even though she can’t see him.

“Ugh, you’re the worst. I’m hanging up before you give me nightmares.”

“Have fun in class, Bobin.”

“Have fun with Jeeves, Steeves.”

Eddie watches his home’s new owner put his…phone..? (It was definitely some sort of communication device, but it had no cord and no antenna. ‘Like Star Trek!’ the space between what used to be his ears supplies) back in his pocket and huffs, placing his hands on his hips.

“Where are you, remote?”

‘Ah, so this guy talks to himself; that’s… definitely something..’

Of course, Eddie knew the exact drawer the little remote was in and could easily open it for this guy, but honestly, he wants to see this play out.

He doesn’t get many people coming by anymore, he made sure of that, but if he’s being honest with himself, the spooky angry ghost schtick is getting kinda old.

Don’t get him wrong though, he’s going to fuck with new guy as much, if not more, than he has with the realtor(s) over the years that the estate has been on the market.

“No funny business with this remote now, y’hear? I’m telling the new owner it’s in the kitchen, so it had better be in the kitchen when he arrives.” the realtor had said aloud to nothing as she placed the little remote on the island counter and left as quickly as she’d come.

Eddie did exactly the opposite, naturally, and “funny business”d the remote right off the counter and into a waiting drawer. It had taken a while since he’s only strong enough to move things in short spurts this far off from October, but he’d gotten his way and even managed to close the drawer before the newcomer had arrived.

The man looks carefully at every inch of the countertop again, then walks back to the entrance to the kitchen he came from and turns back to look into the room.

“Okay. If I were the realtor for a possibly haunted house and had to drop something off for the buyer, I would come in,” he steps into the room as he talks and stops when he reaches the first counter, the island. “And I would put it here….and then leave…” he trails off, looking at the empty span of tile and frowns.

He looks up at the cabinets Eddie closed while he was in the pantry (an impressive feat even by his standards, closing them all in one burst like that) and smirks.

“If I were a mischievous ghost, where would I hide that remote?”

The new owner circles the island and “Ah ha!”s in triumph when he opens the drawer just around the corner of the island and finds the control.

Eddie swears he can feel the stretch of his long-gone facial muscles when he grins at the new owners’ victory. “Good job, pretty boy.”

“Take that ghost!” He grins, holding the remote aloft, then drops his arm just as quickly. “Uh, just in case there really is a ghost, I just said that to be funny, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”

He steps around the island again and back into the hall before he stops himself (no really, actually stops himself, hooking one arm into the doorframe like an afterthought to catch himself), and leans back to look into the empty kitchen.

“My name’s Steve by the way.” Steve pauses, looks at the cabinets again, “Right.” then lets go of the doorframe again and disappears down the hall to the front door.

“Steve.” Eddie mulls the name over, turning it around in his non-existent brain and shrugs to himself. ‘Eh, I guess we’ll see how this goes.’

“Stupid.” Steve shakes his head at himself after leaving the kitchen, did he really just apologize to a ghost?

A ghost that’s probably not even real.

No, those cabinets definitely did not close on their own, silently, without it being something supernatural going on.

So maybe not stupid.

He just hopes that the ghost won’t kill him in his sleep tonight.

Wait, can ghosts hurt people?

Steve mulls over the possibility of being smothered in his sleep by an invisible force while he heads back outside to his car and pulls around to the garage, opening the rolling door with his well-won remote and backing his trailer into the large three car garage.

He disconnects the trailer and leaves it there, pulling back out, closing the door, and heading back into town.

After parking on Main, and stopping in for Joyce’s surprise breakfast, he pushes through the front door to Melvald’s ass-first.

“Oh, Steve darling!” Joyce coos when he enters the store, coffee and donut in hand. “It’s been so long, honey, how are you?” she asks, enveloping him in a hug.

“It’s only been a few months since the funeral, Miss Joyce,” he chuckles.

She pulls back, leaving her small hands on his shoulders, “Oh, you know what I mean; We didn’t really get a chance to talk last winter.”

Steve follows her further into the store where she stops at her register. He sets her breakfast down before starting down the short aisles with a basket he snatches from next to Joyce’s stool.

“So, how’s the house? Is it everything you imagined?”

“It’s super dusty, but yeah, I’m already planning for the holidays.”

“Sounds exciting!”

Steve smiles, grabs up a can of wood polish. “I came straight back here after dropping my trailer. I knew I’d need cleaning supplies.”

“And what about a bed, do you have one of those?” her voice follows him to the next aisle.

“I have an air mattress with me, don’t worry,” he chuckles, grabbing a pack of toilet paper, “I’m not going to be on the floor.”

Joyce tuts in response, “You should be in a real bed, Stephen.”

He grabs a bottle of window cleaner. “Mine gets here the day after tomorrow.”

“Hmph.”

“And it doesn’t look like there are any critters living there either, though Robin’s already convinced it’s haunted.” he says, a laugh in his voice. “I didn’t really get bad vibes from the place, but I guess we’ll see once I start changing things; don’t ghosts hate when you mess with their house?”

“I couldn’t tell you, sweetie, I’m no ghost expert.” she grins good-naturedly at him, then sighs, going back to scanning. “Why don’t you come over tonight for dinner,” She says once finished, handing over his receipt. “You can meet Ellie and Jim properly!”

“That sounds great, Miss Joyce, I’ll see you around…?”

“Let’s say six” She smiles.

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

After paying, he says his farewells, gets the address from Joyce, and heads back to the house.

He hauls his bag of supplies inside along with his suitcase once he gets back, dropping both in the foyer.

“I’m back! Miss me?” Steve grins into the kitchen.

Nothing. Not a sound, not a twitch of the cabinet doors.

“Guess not..”

Shrugging, Steve heads around the island for the second time that day and pulls the fridge away from the wall to plug it back in. Knowing Joyce, he’s not going to be leaving her house without some sort of leftovers so he’s got to be prepared.

He also turns on the faucet in the kitchen sink full blast, watching it sputter out any air pockets left in the pipes.

Pausing there for a minute, letting the fridge catch up with itself so he can test the built-in water dispenser and letting the faucet run, he decides to try researching the trailer park Joyce said had once been here, but, of course, his phone signal is shit.

“Damn..” he puts his phone down on the counter dejectedly, already planning a trip to the library and a call to the local internet provider.

Steve spends the next couple hours wandering the house, slowly cataloging everything that he needs to get 1) fixed, 2) updated, or 3) refinished, putting his possible houseguest out of mind while he wipes down the counters, all the mirrors, the railings and banisters of the staircase, and letting the other faucets run out their bubbles.

There are a couple leaky pipes in the basement, but nothing looks cracked or rusted.

All the lights seem to work, but quite a few bulbs are on their last legs, flickering as he flips them on.

Almost every room needs to be updated; the wainscotting in the dining room has to get sanded and painted, the horrible floral wallpaper in the foyer needs to come down along with part of a wall he wants to make a wider entry, and he’s got to decide what color he’d going to paint over all the warm-orangey wood in the kitchen, but the real highlight of the house is the great room.

Slightly too big for a regular living room and open to the second floor, with a balcony over the back yard and a beautiful stone fireplace that extends up through the ceiling.

He spends just a little too long daydreaming in the middle of the room, but eventually heads outside to walk the property and maybe even take a look at the gate again to figure out if he can get it automated eventually.

The trees along the lawn’s edge (and the lawn itself) are scruffy to say the least, but rather than be deterred, he’s excited to spend time outside this summer and get his tan back.

Damn. He needs a lawnmower. Add that to the list along with internet.

There’s a low brick wall that runs along the front property line, parallel to the main road, which only sports a few missing bricks and could use a power washing, but that’s another job for the summer.

Adding ‘power washer’ to his mental list, he heads to the front gate.

He’s inspecting the hinges on one side of the gate when his attention is caught by the sound of tires squealing to a stop beside him.

Steve jumps and looks over.. looks them all over. A flock of teenagers on bikes have stopped at the end of his drive; two girls, four boys, each giving him their own looks of irritation, curiosity, and indifference.

“Uhh..hi?“

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says one of the girls, the red headed one. She’s standing atop a longboard and hanging onto the back of one of the boys’ bikes, shoes untied, knees scraped, no helmet to be seen.

“Language.” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly black-haired boy. “One, you really should be wearing a helmet.” he looks at the rest of their troop, “All of you. And two: no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets closed on their own after I first got here?” he asks.

“Yeah! A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it, like, right after.” one of the boys says earnestly.

“Allegedly Lucas, allegedly did it!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “The boyfriend thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“The killer could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the dark-haired one snarks back on Lucas’ behalf, the latter of whom gestures in a ‘Yeah! See?’ kind of way.

“It’s not likely; the handwriting on the letter was consistent with the girlfriend’s handwriting.” says Will. Oh! Will! Steve knows this one. He assumes the girl standing on the back pegs of Will’s bike with almost exactly Joyce’s haircut is the Ellie she talked about earlier.

“How would you even know that?”

“You know I can read, right Mike?”

“POINT IS.” the redhead yells over the boys, who fall silent. She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods once, “Yep!”

“And how do you know that?”

She scowls at him, crossing her arms across her chest. “I just do.”

“D’ya think he’s gonna be pissed at me for changing things?” Steve asks her, both playing along and also completely serious.

“Can we come in and see the ghost?” Dustin interrupts before the redhead can answer him..

“No!” the redhead yells at the same time as Steve’s much quieter ‘No.’

Dustin chooses to ignore this. “C’mon man, don’t you want help fixing things? We have nothing to do,” he gestures to the lot of them (“Speak for yourself.” the one called Mike grumbles.) “We get to see ghostly happenings, you get help on the house. Win-win.”

“I don’t think so..Dustin, right?” the kid nods “I’ve got things covered here, and you’ve all still got school.”

“Yeah, but only for like, a couple more months.”

“Dude, why are you offering us up for free labor?”

“He’d pay us, wouldn’t you….?” Dustin assumes, trailing off for Steve to fill in his name.

Steve rolls his eyes, “Steve.”

“Steve. See? He’s a man of good morals, he wouldn’t want illegal child labor on his conscience.”

All Steve can do is laugh, “You’re insane, little dude.”

“I am a man of science! I want to see a ghost.”

“Ghosts aren’t scientific, dumbass.”

“I have multitudes, Michael.”

“You’re a multitude.” Lucas taunts, which starts a bickering war between the boys.

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Steve calls over the arguing, huffing when they do quiet down. “I’ll think about it alright? Would be nice to have a little help with things around here.”

Will and Dustin grin, the others not so much.

“Sweet! School’s done for spring break the first week of April! We could come help then too!”

More arguing starts up between them so Steve turns back up the driveway, leaving them to it.

Eddie’s used to quiet boredom; years of being by yourself tends to desensitize you to it.

So it’s surprising when he suddenly hears music echoing up the stairs from the floor below him.

Steve had been gone for a little bit now, though how long it’s been since he last saw him wandering the house could be anywhere from minutes to hours (he’s almost positive it hasn’t been more than a day).

So he follows the sound, half following the path of halls and doorways, and half just passing through bothersome walls, all the way back to the kitchen.

The man of the house is already talking when he gets there. ‘Does he think I’m stuck in the kitchen?’

“...and she said you like metal music, so uh, I shuffled the first playlist I saw on Spotify. Hope you like it?”

Steve looks around the room, no doubt checking for some sign of Eddie, but his eyes slide right over his spot in front of the fridge.

“Anyway, I’m going to go shower and change, I’m going to be out for dinner tonight with a friend.” he says to nothing, then after a beat, turns out of the kitchen, still mumbling to himself.

Eddie watches him go, wondering what the hell Spoofy is, then wondering when Steve had met Max. He likes Max, she’s smart as a whip and figured out all on her own what kind of music he liked.

“I dunno..” She had mumbled aloud, fiddling with another tape she’d brought with her. “I just guessed from what I could find about you at the library. Knowing what we know now about the Satanic Panic, I figured you were as close to satan as this podunk town could muster. You were a metalhead, weren’t you?”

Eddie had just smiled, tugged gently on one of her braids, and sat with her while she hid herself away from whatever it was she needed to.

Eddie turns back to the thing playing Black Sabbath on the island counter. It has to be some sort of speaker, obviously, though the fact that it has no wires coming out of it and no spot for a tape is making him second guess his assessment.

“The wonders of technology.” Eddie mumbles aloud to himself.

He then examines the thing beside it, standing inside the island to do so. It’s small, flat, and looks like it’s made of glass. Kinda like a smaller version of the weird flat phone Steve was talking into when he first arrived. He has a fleeting thought if Steve’s weird phone is also a video camera, like the other peoples’ weird flat things they have in front of their faces every time they visit break in during the fall months.

That had been an odd discovery too; he managed to look at one closer when the realtor came in a couple years ago, slowly scanning the place with one of her own. All it did was show a copy of what was in front of her, and by the process of elimination, he figured it’s a future-y version of the giant cameras rich people (and news crews) had back in his day.

This little thing however, has a power cord. A white cable plugs it directly into one of the outlets at the end of the island.

Both this flat thing and this tiny speaker (‘Seriously, how are you supposed to get good sound out of something this small?’ he thinks, despite the fact that he can actively hear how good the song sounds himself) glow with orange sparkles, same as any other light in the house does when it’s on.

He pokes into the sparkles around the flat thing, and the glass also lights up at his touch, but goes dark again before he can get a good look at the display. So he pokes again.

This time, he can see a digital clock on a blue background, and a gray box at the bottom of the glass accurately displays the song playing (Iron Man), and what looks like a pause button.

‘Oh, okay, this is the thing that’s playing the music…to the speaker? But it’s not connected to the speaker??’

Eddie tries to touch the pause button, but nothing happens, the display only turning off, then on again from his poking at its glow cloud.

“Damn, what the hell?”

He pokes at the glow cloud around the speaker next, cutting the music completely.

The next poke turns it back on, playing through the end of Iron Man and into the beginning of Crazy Train.

Next, he spreads his fingers wide, putting his whole hand into the glow and twisting his wrist counter-clockwise. The volume significantly lowers.

“Oh, fuck yeah!”

He cranks his wrist back the other way, turning the music up as far as it can go and his existence sparkles to life; he can almost feel his individual fingers and toes in the bright feelings the music gives him.

Happiness like this is rare now that he’s dead, feeling it only a couple times previously, when Max would come by with her old tapedeck, and boy does it beat the burning hot rage he’s felt only once before.

That made him feel almost completely whole again, but off, like he’d been put back together wrong then set ablaze.

He’s so distracted by the feeling, headbanging erratically to the next song that plays, that he doesn’t notice Steve rushing into the room until the music is cranked back down.

“Aw what? Dude—” his unheard complaint is cut short when he looks over at his new landlord.

‘Oohhh shit, he’s naked…well, in a towel but still holy shit, holy FUCK he’s hot–oh he’s talking…’

“...shit! What the fuck?!” he looks around the room again, and Eddie can see his anger fading into wariness. “Uh..if there is actually a ghost here, can you please keep it down a little bit? I don’t want to lose more of my hearing…”

Eddie sticks his hand into the speaker’s glow cloud and turns it back up to a low hum, enough for just the two of them.

Steve’s shoulders jump up in surprise, “T-Thank you.” he shakes his head quickly and continues on “I was almost done getting ready anyway, so I’ll be outta your hair soon and you can turn it up loud as you want, ‘kay?”

Steve seems to have decided that Eddie’s standing across the room from him next to the entrance to the pantry, so his grin is directed that way, but Eddie, standing next to him at the island, appreciates the sight nonetheless.

He heads back towards the stairs, and Eddie does not watch him leave, thank you. He’s a ghost, not a creep, alright?

‘Okay, so he does like metal, how’d that girl even know that? Also..WHAT THE FUCK’

Steve continues to think about his even more possible spectral roommate while he finishes getting dressed, yelling a quick goodbye toward the kitchen when he leaves through the front door about an hour later. Then surprises himself when he laughs aloud at the music he can suddenly hear through the door.

It’s only 5:20, so Steve heads to the big grocery store just outside town to pick up something to bring with him to Miss Joyce’s.

..Joyce’s.. No ‘Miss’ anymore, ‘you’re not six.’ he chides himself.

He meanders the aisles of the blue Big Box Supercenter, finally deciding on a three layer cake from the freezer section, one of his and his grandparents’ favorite treats.

He smiles when he pulls it out, thinking about all the grief his grandma would give he and his grandpa whenever they wanted store bought dessert instead of a fresh baked strudel or cookies, acting all grumpy like she also didn’t love the frozen chocolate cake

Heading back to his car, he buckles in and heads over to the address Joyce had given him.

The hidden little cabin he arrives at the end of a long drive is absolutely perfect. There’s a couple ATVs and a side-by-side parked along the front of the yard, a little trailer hooked up to one of the four-wheelers that’s straining under the weight of a full load of firewood.

It looks like home, and Steve feels a warmth in his chest as he climbs the steps to the front door.

Thunking solidly under his knuckles, it opens before he can even count to ten.

“Steve, honey, you made it!” Joyce envelops him in a hug, “Come in, come in, what’ve you got there? You didn’t have to bring anything, sweetheart.”

“I couldn't show up empty-handed,” he says, handing her the bag holding the cake and closing the door behind him.

“Oh sure you could’ve, but thank you anyway.” She beckons him forward while scooting off into the kitchen. “Did you find the place okay?”

“My GPS said your driveway was on the other side of the road, but other than that, no problems.” He says as he toes off his shoes.

He sets his Nike’s in line with the other pairs of shoes next to the door and straightens, taking in the cabin around him. There’s a bare, raw wood ceiling, a mis-matched trio of couch, loveseat, and armchair covered with various crocheted throws over their arms and backs. There’s what looks like a bathroom off to the left, the kitchen to the right, and ahead through the living area is the back door to the yard.

It’s effortlessly bursting with the warmth and feeling of home he wants to imbue his house with…he should get Joyce to do the decorating.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He looks over at Joyce where she’s leaning back against the sink, seemingly having been watching him take in the place, “Cliche, yes, but true.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“Oh! Pfft, it’s nowhere near perfect,” she bats his words out of the air, “Now! Ellie and Will should be back any minute from their friend’s house, and Hop is out back manning the grill so food should be done real soon”

She passes him a bottle of beer, and he sits on one of the mismatched stools next to Joyce’s own little island. “It smells great, what’s he got cookin’?”

“Meat.” A gruff voice cuts in.

Steve turns toward the sound, and takes in the man coming through the back door.

He’s a tall, older man with a full short beard, and he’s got a captain’s ball cap on as well, the embroidery spelling out ‘USS Kitty Hawk (CVA-63)’ in gold thread.

The man who must be ‘Hop’ sets a platter stacked with burger patties and a couple steaks onto the small section of counter across from Steve between the fridge and stove, grabs himself a beer, and Steve stands to shake his hand.

“Steve Harrington, sir, thanks for having me over.”

“Jim Hopper, Hawkins Chief of Police. Nice t’meetcha, son.” Hopper’s palm is warm, dry, and scratchy in his, giving him a single strong shake before letting go. “So, Joyce tells me you bought the Forest Hills place, how’s it held up all these years?”

“It’s bones are all still good, it’s dusty as hell and I’m going to need to do a good bit of power washing, but nothing I won’t be able to handle on my own.”

“Good, ‘cause I wasn’t offerin’ t’help.” Joyce smacks a playful hand into his shoulder with a laugh and a fondly exasperated “Oh, stop.”.

“No worries, Chief. Though I do need a mower, know anyone who’s selling one?”

Hopper thinks for a second, “Yeah actually; Ted Wheeler just got a brand new John Deere, hasn’t gotten rid of his old one yet. Lemme ask him for ya.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that, I can ask. Do you have his number?”

The Chief waves him off, “Don’t worry about it, kid, I gotta go talk t’Ted anyhow.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“Not a problem, son.” he grumbles, taking a swig of his beer.

Steve takes one of his own, and says “Hey, did you know Hawkins has a gang of teens on bikes that ride around offering to help with home improvement projects? Ran into them earlier today.”

“No kidding?” Hopper’s mustache scrunches up into part of a smile. “Why can’t they pay me a visit, then?”

“I think a whole third of them live here, actually.”

That third comes in the front door then, chatting idly about something or other while they take off and line up their shoes next to the entryway.

They look up and immediately their faces shift to twin looks of worry.

“Nice to see you again you two, I’m assuming this is Ellie?”

Ellie steps forward first with a set brow, “Hello again, Mr. Steve. I am Ellie.”

“Bells, you guys riding around annoying folks?” Hopper asks, his voice firm.

Will steps up then, “I’m sorry if we bothered you today, Steve, I know Dustin can be a lot.”

It clicks in his head then, as Hopper grumbles about ‘That Henderson Kid..’, why Will and Ellie seem nervous to see him there.

“No, of course not! You were no bother, I promise. I ran into your mom this morning at Melvald’s and she invited me for dinner.”

Joyce cuts in, “Do you remember Steve coming around when you were little, Will?”

Will’s eyes snap between his mom and Steve. “...So you’re not here because we bothered you this morning?”

“Nope, just catching up with Miss Joyce.” Steve vows at the same time Hopper grouses out a “I am. Why’re you kids riding around talking to strangers?”

“Well, Max had heard someone was moving in, so she wanted to go see who it was, maybe there was another kid our age, you know? And so we stopped there when Steve was looking at the front gate.”

“Also, Dustin wanted to know about the ghost that lives at Steve’s house.” Ellie states.

“Oh boy..” Hop grumbles, “Alright look, I’ve told you before not to talk to strangers; Lucky for you, Steve’s not a stranger, but you need to be careful.” He levels the two with a look more fit for 10 year olds, not the nearly 16 they must be. “And there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

To Hopper’s apparent surprise, he’s ganged up on about his anti-ghost rhetoric from three of the other four people in his house almost immediately, all of them lapping over the other. Ellie and Will both start talking about Steve’s apparent ghost activity, and Joyce’s “That didn’t stop you from being spooked when we went over there.”

“Do you know what happened, then?” Steve asks, accepting the paper plate Joyce hands him, a hamburger bun already open atop it.

“I don’t think anyone knows all the details; I was young when it happened and people didn’t like talking about it.”

“Still don’t.” Hopper says, “The station’s kept the case file all but officially sealed since it happened, far as I can tell.”

“We first heard about it in high school, of course, when Jim was goading Lonnie on about going over to the trailer park that used to be on that property. Halloween of our sophomore year.” She smirks at the memory, elbowing a still scowling Hopper.

“It was a tragic case, murder suicide if I remember right. But that doesn’t mean there’s a damn ghost there.” Hopper shakes his head, shaking away any further desire Steve may have had about asking the chief about whichever case had taken place there, with it. “Buncha hokey mumbo jumbo I say.”

The topic turns to lighter topics for the rest of the night and by time he’s heading out the door, his arms are full of leftover steak, potatoes, green beans, and even some leftover meatloaf from the day before, plus he has an actual offer to help with anything he needs done on the house from the whole Hopper-Byers clan (and an extra offer of help with anyone trying to sneak onto the property from the Chief himself).

Once he gets back to the house, Steve stores away the leftovers in his fully-chilled fridge (Thanks, past him!), hefts the air mattress out of the U-Haul and lets it inflate with its pump while he gets ready for bed, finally crawling under his favorite quilt soon after.

The mattress is cold under him and squeaks obnoxiously loud in the large open master bedroom, but, to his surprise, he’s asleep soon after his head settles on the pillow.

Steve’s eyes blink open to vast, velvety black. Panicking momentarily, he looks down at himself but–oh. Okay, he’s just standing in this vast dark place.

He focuses a little more, and he finds he’s standing in barely a half inch of water.

Kicking at it, he hears the splashes echo off walls he can’t see, even when he’s squinting; He looks around, turning slowl—

There’s someone else here.

A bright white spot against pitch black.

“Hello?”

The spot shifts, and a ponytail swings around when the girl looks over at him.

She immediately waves to him, bouncing lightly on her toes excitedly as she does, then almost as soon as she starts to walk towards him…

He wakes up.

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#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #st #stranger things #ghost!eddie #the party #steveddie #eddeve #stranger things fic #ghost fic #modern au #noelle writes

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