#what do we do when someone's hurtin
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Take Me First
Tags: @lma1986 @somewhere-diamond @missduffsblog @myownthoughts12 @concrete09 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @shilohrosechicken @jilliemiw86
They had a fight. He made a stupid choice that she just couldn't accept, so she left, never knowing it would probably be the last time they would see each other. Now, Noah is left to face the consequences of his actions; consequences that weren't supposed to affect her. He's broken and terrified life will never be the same again. If only God would take him first, then maybe he could be at peace.
“I wanna be someone you used to hate without the memory of the pain, but I went too far and now we can't restart. It's like we cut the breaks, tore ‘em off the car ninety miles inside the dark familiar scars, and electric hearts”
“Why! Why would you! How could you? What did she give you that I don't, Noah?” She screams at me, tears running down her face, the pain I caused her destroying every good memory of me she has. I couldn't believe I pushed her this far; that I pushed us to this point in our relationship. I couldn't give her the answer she wanted because the truth was I didn't have one. I fucked up. Bad. I fucked someone else, in our bed, when she was away at her parents. Granted I was drunk, but that was an excuse at all. Jolly told me not to do it. Folio said I'd lose her if I did. Nick just shook his head and walked away when I took the fifth shot given to me. Matt was refusing to speak to me. What the fuck happened? How could I be so over taken by a girl whose name I couldn't even remember?
Y/N stands up grabbing her keys and purse that are still on the floor where she dropped them a bit ago. “No, please baby,”
Y/N sits on the ottoman, holding her head in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking, and the only sounds are her quiet sobs. I want to comfort her. I want to go to her, take her in my arms, and apologize over and over until she believes me. I know she won't. I know
Y/N hates me. The cuts I've made so recklessly on her heart are too deep. I reach out to touch her, but she pulls away. “Don't you fucking touch me, Noah,” she screams, making me cringe. “Don't ever touch me again." She looks at me with so much distaste for the first time ever since we've been together. I can't stand to see her like this, so I make the choice to leave. “No, you asshole! You don't get the benefit of walking out on me when you're the one who made the wrong choice. I'm the one who gets to leave.”
“Don't you fucking dare, Noah. Don't you call me that. You do not have the privilege of calling me that anymore. I'm nothing to you now.” She glares at me with so much hurt, so much anger in her blue eyes. My body goes numb. The slamming of the front door makes me jump, signaling the end of us and the glow of her headlights as she backs out of the driveway says it's for good. I run into the kitchen and find the trash can just in time.
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“I know I'm gonna die in this bed I made, and I'm drowning in a dream that I can't escape. If I could wake up, I'd hesitate.”
“Where the fuck have you been? Why haven't you answered any of Matt's or my calls!” Jolly's voice is loud and his bitter tone tells me something bad has happened. “I fell asleep, Jolly, sorry man.” Jolly scoffs. “So fucking typically, Noah! You go off and break Y/N's heart, causing her to do something drastic that plays out like a fucking horror movie and you get to fall asleep. Yeah, fuck you mother,” “Whoa! Slow the fuck down, Jolly! I didn't intentionally fall asleep. I've been sitting here on my couch, crying for the past hour. What are you talking about?” “Are you sure? Didn't invite what’s her face back for a second round the moment Y/N drove away?” There was dead silence. I clench my jaw, running my hand over my mouth, thanking god Jolly's not in front of me. My fist closes in a tight fist. “Fuck you, Jolly! Fuck you!” I yell into the phone. “It wasn't supposed to happen, okay? I had no intention of hurting Y/N. I love her and I know if I give her some space and some time we can work it out.” There was dead silence again. “Noah,” the way Jolly says my name is one-eighty from just a second ago. Something bad has happened. I can feel it. “Y/N’s been in an accident. She was hit head on by a drunk driver. It took the E.M.T’s almost an hour to cut her out. Once they did; there was no pulse. Her blood was everywhere, Noah. After a few tries of resuscitation they finally got a pulse. It was really faint, but it was there. I followed them to the hospital and Matt, Folio, and Nick met me here. We're all here. Everyone but you. Please come, Noah. Y/N needs you.
My eyes snap open from the vibration against my leg. As my eyes adjust to the light I realize I must have fallen asleep after sitting on the couch for I don't know how long after Y/N left; her NoFace hoodie still clenched in my hands. It's her favorite, and when I saw it laying on the back of the chair, a spark of hope ignited in me. Maybe if I give her a few days, we can talk. I reach into my pocket to answer the call, and when I look at my phone, I see nine missed calls from Matt and seven from Jolly. I answer before it becomes the eighth.
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“But it’s too late to turn back now, Oh God, I tried but I don’t know, if I could escape it, I’d trade in the blame, you can take it. If it doesn’t take me first.”
I don’t know how I’m able to make it to the hospital in one piece, but I do. I text Jolly to find out where everyone is and follow the directions he gives me. My knees are weak. I’m shaking and can’t stop the tears that keep randomly falling. Y/N means everything to me; more than the band, the job, the money, fuck my own life. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect her. If I lose her; if he takes her from me; I swear to “Noah!” The sound of my name distracts me from my thoughts. I realize I’m right where Jolly said to meet them, seeing Nicholas waving to me up ahead. Drying my face, I proceed to the waiting area. I’m greeted by fists bumps from both Folio and Nick, but Jolly only glares at me, while Matt refuses to even look at me. I know he and Y/N had a thing for each other before we started dating, but somehow I was the one who managed to grab her attention enough to say yes when I asked her out for the first time. The way her whole face lit up when I asked her still gave me butterflies and I found myself, once again, wondering what the fuck I was thinking when I cheated on her. I wasn’t; that's the whole problem.
“Any update?” I ask. Jolly just shakes his head as he continues to stare. “What?’ “Don’t fucking “what” me.” “Yeah, Jolly, I am. I know you hate me right now okay.” “Hate doesn’t even begin to cover it.” I look over at Matt who’s finally acknowledging my presence. “I know,” My gaze drops from him to the floor, unable to look at the pain in my friend's face. “How can you live with yourself right now, Noah?” Matt stands up and walks up to me. “How can you,” but he doesn’t finish, just continues to stare, making me uncomfortable. Matt begins to cry a little harder than he probably means to, and finally walks away towards the bathrooms, giving me some room to breathe. I wipe my eyes, erasing the guilt that’s started to seep again, taking a seat next to Folio who’s pretending to read an outdated motorcycle magazine. Hours pass, making the unknown feel like hell. My hell. The hell I deserve along with all of it's slow, agonizing torture of my soul as the seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn hours. I’m so anxious that I’ve bitten down all my nails and my left leg is aching from bouncing it up and down for too long. Laying my head back, I let myself drift back into one of my favorite memories of us; that time in Virginia.
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“If you even think about touching me while I'm walking down this fucking muddy trail you so desperately wanted me to come on with you, I swear to the Lord above, Noah Sebastian, I will make you suffer. I hear you and Jolly back there!” “Babe, I have no idea what you're talking about. You must be hearing things.” I was trying my hardest to hide the snicker in my voice, but I knew Y/N was already on to me. When she turned around and looked at me, giving me her best angry face, I melted even more for her than I already had. She was fucking beautiful, sweet, and such a badass; she was mine. I smiled down at her, moving in a little closer and sliding my hand behind her head, bringing her in for a long kiss. I felt her body relax into mine, the same way she always reacted whenever I kissed her. “You already make me suffer; every moment that you're away from me.” Y/N pulled away from me, gazing into my eyes. “Awe, Noah,” she said, her bottom lip, that I desperately wanted to bite and suck on, protruding. The overwhelming way she made me so hard in a matter of seconds and also made me feel like I was the wealthiest and luckiest man in the world was something I was beginning to get used to. I was falling in love with her; and I wasn't afraid to admit it. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I chuckled at the sheepish grin that swept over her face that reddened her cheeks. “No reason. I just really love looking at you.” I kissed her one more time before taking her hand. “Come on. If you go down, then I'm going down too, how's that.” Her face brightened. “I like that,” she grinned. “Dude, this shit is fucking gross. I usually don't mind mud, but this,” Folio, groaned, lifting up his boot that was cover in thick, greenish, brownish mud. “Whose fucking idea was it to take this particular trail, anyway?” “Matt,” Jolly, Nicholas, Y/N, and I said in unison. “What the fuck! You know you could've said no,” Matt hollered, walking a little further ahead of us.
Just when I thought everything was good, the very next step Y/N took was our demise. Down, she went, ass to the mud, slipping and sliding a few inches down the trail, dragging me with her. Her squeals of I don't know at the point we're all that could be heard as she laid on her back, the back of her shirt and pants soaked in the god-awful muck. I held my laugh, suppressing it as much as I could even though Matt and Folio had already busted out laughing. “Babe? Baby, are you okay?” Even though my ass was wet and muddy, I knew it was nothing compared to Y/N's. Nick helped me up, wishing me luck, and I carefully made my way down the path to help her. Her eyes were closed, and for a second, I thought maybe she was seriously hurt. “Y/N, are you hurt?” I saw her grin before I felt the sting of the mud hit me in the face, slapping me relentlessly. “Shit!” I cried, wondering if this was how bad Y/N's ass felt every time I spanked it during sex. If so, maybe I should find a different kink. “Fucking hell, that hurt.” “ Yeah? Well so does my back, fucker,” she lashed out even though it was through a laugh. “Fair enough.” I squatted next to her, offering my support, only to have her tackle me and push me into the mud. “There, now we're even,” she giggled, leaning over top of me. She kissed me, slipping her tongue slyly into my mouth, sending all kinds of signals through my body. But the bad boy side of me wanted revenge as I grabbed a handful of mud and smashed it in the side of her face. A look of great surprise flashed across her face as her eyes widened. I had a feeling I was going to regret that later on, but knowing how fucking amazing intense rough sex was with Y/N, I gladly welcomed it with open arms. Pretty soon, after a few more handfuls of back and forth mud throwing, Y/N and I were covered in mud. But we were happy; she was the perfect image of what my happiness was.
“If you two children are finished, the rest of us grown-ups would like to finish our hike.” “Fuck you, Karlsson,” I said, holding up the middle finger to Jolly who playfully smiled as he passed us, refusing to help either one of us up. “What the fuck ever, I guess it's you and me Babe,” I announced, looking over at Y/N. “Yeah, just like always.”
“I lie to myself like it's not too late, convinced the past can still be changed, We know it's gone, but I can't move on I wanna rewind, but it just replays Jumping on a hand grenade, but it won't go off , no, it won't go off.
The love we made that night was some of the best we'd ever had. I fucked her so slowly, soft at first then harder each time she cried out for more, taking my time to make sure she felt every part of me while I tried to commit to memory every way she felt while I was side her. It was the first time I'd ever made her cum more than twice. She fought with me at first, told me she wasn't letting me anywhere near her because of what happened earlier. “Me withholding sex from you is your punishment,” she said. So, I wrestled her, showing her just how dominant I could be when she chose to be a brat, and I won in the end, obviously. I left my handprint on her ass, caring nothing about the way it might have felt, like I did earlier. Y/N was mine; and she needed to be reminded that she was. Then there was the way she rode me, hands pressing hard against my chest as I watched her enjoy the pleasure she was getting from me. Her breast's filled my hands as she took what she wanted from me, crying my name like an innocent prayer. I came so fucking hard that I left scratches down the sides of her legs. I don't think another night has ever topped that; not even the night that has led to this fucking hell I'm now sitting in. Deciding to take a walk, making Nick promise me he'll text me if there's news, I find myself wandering the Emergency Room halls.
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Overwhelmed by the memories and the emotions, I enter the chapel that's here to bring whatever comfort a person longs for in their time of need. It's empty; just an altar, a cross, a lot of chairs, and a few dim lights. I take a seat closer to the front, wiping my eyes again, though this time I'm not ashamed of the tears. I deserve them. I fucked up so bad and now I'm left in Y/N’s wake to deal with the guilt and heartache that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I bit my knuckles while slowly rocking back and forth, letting the tears of anger, tears of hurt and pain, tears of fear, run down my cheeks and fall to the floor below. Then I begin to do something I haven't done since I was a kid; something my grandma taught me to use in the moments when I didn’t know what else to do; I pray.
“I know you're listening; I know you can hear me. Y/N is fucking innocent. She doesn't deserve to pay for the crimes I've committed.” I squeeze my eyes closed, releasing more tears, sniffling. “I know I've fucked up and I'm guessing I've made you pretty angry if you think an innocent girl deserves to take my place in death. But, I'm telling you now,” stopping as my voice starts to break apart. I'm sobbing, falling to my knees as my hands drape over the back of the chair in front of me. “God, I'm fucking begging you, take me first. Switch our places, somehow, some way and fucking take me first. I can't live with this pain, God!” I drop down seething through my teeth. “Ughhh, fucking shit, motherfucker! It hurts too much, do you hear me!” I push the chairs in front of me so hard they go flying and hit the bottom of the altar. That's all it takes before I'm lifting chair after chair and throwing it across the room. “I'm sorry I hurt her, I'm sorry I broke her heart, just please, I'm fucking begging you, don't take her from me. Take Me First.” My shoulders slump and my arms fall to my sides. I'm out of breath, crying in between each one. I’m emotionally drained and feel uncomfortably numb, so numb that I don't feel the vibration of my phone at first. I pull it out not expecting what I see.
Today 4:32am
Nick: Y/N'S AWAKE!!!! GET HERE NOW!!!
Everything around me stops. A loud ringing echoes in my ears, piercing the very inner and making me cringe. This can’t really be how it works is it? I get pissed off, throw a fit, and my prayer is answered; there’s more to it, right? My eyes drift upwards, and I’m suddenly feeling a little ashamed. Especially when I take a look around the room and see the mess I’ve made. Fuck. I’m going to have to clean this up before I leave the hospital. But first I need to go see Y/N. “Thank you,” I whisper as I walk toward the door to leave, but before I do I turn around and focus on the simple cross sitting in the middle of the table at the foot of the altar. Suddenly, hope doesn’t seem impossible. I believe more now than before, that Y/N and I might be able to fix this horrible broken mess.
All the guys are in the room surrounding Y/N. She’s lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines with tubes and cables attached to her and going everywhere. One of her legs and arms are in a cast, and a huge bandage is wrapped around her head. Bruising is visible on her face along with a busted lip. Seeing all of this shatters my heart into a million pieces, destroying what little bit of it was left. I stand outside the room, gazing in on her. Matt’s at her side, holding her hand, talking to her about god only knows what. Probably anything to distract her from reality, and she’s partially smiling at whatever he’s saying. Despite everything, Y/N looks happy. When her eyes shift to look at me, I see the same beautiful light in them I’ve grown used to seeing all these years and I can’t help but smile back, causing everyone to turn and look my way.
Nicholas comes out wearing a grave expression that chills every part of me. I know what he’s about to say isn’t easy, so I brace myself for it. He takes me by the arm, pulling me off to the side, out of Y/N’s sights. “What is it Nick? What’s wrong? Y/N’s dying isn’t she? She’s not going to make it, shit, oh my god,” I run my hands through my hair as I turn back around and stare back into the room at her. I’m shaking so bad I can barely stand, so I brace myself against the wall for support. "Will you chill the fuck out Noah, just for a minute, and listen to me! Y/N’s not dying. She’s going to be okay. She has a lot of injuries that are going to take a lot of time to heal, but she’s going to be fine.” I exhale, looking Nick in the eyes for the first time. “Really?” I ask, through blurry eyes. He smiles at me, throwing his hand on my shoulder. “Really, bro. She’s good. But there is something you’ve got to know. She said she didn’t want to tell you herself because you might not believe her.” My forehead creases as I frown. “What do you mean, something else?” Nick licks his lips, looks over into the room, and takes a deep breath. “Nick, what the fuck dude, what is it?” His green eyes meet mine and in absolute seriousness he says, “Y/N’s pregnant.”
#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens cult#nicholas ruffilo#nick folio#jolly karlsson
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Thoughts on Helluva Boss 205 ("Unhappy Campers")
Wow, this... This one may actually be worse than Murder Family. That's impressive.
Is anyone else noticing a pattern of Helluva Boss episodes going absolutely nowhere? Each one ends without affecting the larger plot in any meaningful way. Season 1's structure was fairly episodic as well, but at least back then there was some sense of progression.
I usually include separate lists of pros and cons in these critiques, but in this case, I have so few compliments to give this thing it's not worth it. I tried my best to find more to like about this episode, but it gave me bupkis to work with. So I'll just present all my notes in chronological order.
Let's get this over with.
-Looks like the rehab facility where Barb used to live is located in Sloth (on account of the floating islands and all the pink in the environment), just like the hospital in this season's previous episode. We've never seen care centers in any other ring, so... Does Hell society's opinion of sick people dictate that they're just lazy? Some clarification on that might be nice.
-"She's got a job now. A life. Don't fuck it up by findin' her." Holy shit, the nurse is the most mature, sympathetic character in this entire episode. Tasing Blitzo in the butthole earns her bonus points in my book. Nurse Pussyface, you are way too good for this show.
-Why is Blitzo even trying to visit his sister if he's been kicked out of the facility several times and knows she hates him? What's the impetus? "Look, I know you hate my guts, but Dad's dead, and he named you in the will." Or maybe he had an experience that reminded him of her and figured he'd drop by to see how she was? Y'know, something.
-By the way, Helluva's animation is usually a highlight, but here there's not much to say about it. It wasn't especially memorable or ambitious; just kinda... passable. Even the climactic fight scene (which I'll get to later) didn't have much to write home about.
-How the hell didn't the client notice the holes in his boat before he rowed it out into deep water? Because I'm pretty sure it would leak when it was still in the shallow end of the lake, unless this is a unique real-life boating phenomenon I'm not aware of. Also, you'd think this guy was a bit too gung-ho to get out on the lake for someone who can't swim. Did someone have a gun to your head, dude?
Fun fact: Did y'all know I was on staff at a summer camp once? We had a pond, canoes, and a boathouse just like the camp in this episode. One thing we had that this camp apparently doesn't, however, is this important rule: No one gets in a canoe without a life jacket. EVER. But, well... We see later that the adults at this camp don't care much about safety, so I guess that's fair enough. (Though I'm curious how they manage to stay open, or what the client's loved ones have to say about his mysterious disappearance.)
-What did the client do to get sent to Hell after he died? Mrs. Mayberry murdered someone, so that's why she's here, but this kid seems pretty chill-? (And don't even try to explain this on Twitter, writers. If it's not in the story itself, it ain't canon.) I also can't help but notice that his design reflects the way he died, but every other sinner's appearance is just random. Consistency? Who needs it!
-Some unintentional hilarity for ya: Here's Millie's face after the client recounted his death.
And she holds this pose for the remainder of the scene. Was there NO direction on how to animate Millie here?! This is a grim situation and she's smiling?! I get that she's a demon, but damn that is cold. It's never been clearer that half her role in this story is just smiling and looking cute, to the point the animators don't know what else to do with her.
-Richard Horvitz's valley girl voice was kinda funny. I dug it. Not sure why Moxxie and Millie had to dress in drag for anything other than cheap laughs, though.
-I know Millie's hurtin' for more development, but this story's conflict would have made SO much more sense from a character standpoint if Moxxie were getting all the praise from the campers. Think about it: He's the one Blitzo always shits on and doesn't believe in. He's the one whose father doesn't love him. He's the one who never gets positive attention from anyone except his wife. Suddenly the conflict is much more compelling: Now that he has approval from these humans, maybe he doesn't need it from Blitzo anymore (not sure why he needed his approval in the first place, but whatever). Maybe he'd realize what he's been missing, and how shitty Blitzo's treatment has been in comparison. Could this be the breaking point that finally gets him to muster some self-respect and quit IMP? We'll never know, because the episode has miscalculated where the most interesting dilemma actually lies.
As far as we can tell, Millie's had zero reason to doubt herself, and we never see her being mistreated like Moxxie has.
Take these lines of dialogue: "And for once I feel like... Like I'm important! Like I'm somebody to be proud of!"
Wouldn't they fit so much better if they came out of Moxxie's mouth?
-I kinda liked how the lyrics of Millie's song were humble while Moxxie's lyrics were egotistical, showing that being down to earth will win you friends while being self-centered will turn people off. But is that really the kind of message we need in an adult show? It's a useful lesson for children, but after you hit the age of this series' target demographic, most people will have the social skills to know better than to pull what Moxxie did at the campfire.
-Speaking of Moxxie being super immature, why does he weep when a bunch of preteens ignores him? They're...They're kids, Mox. They aren't your peers. Literally who cares. This behavior makes no sense outside of (once again) cheap humor. I could understand being bummed out that you're not good with kids if you wanted to have your own someday, but even that doesn't warrant actual tears. And this makes him look like a massive hypocrite later on when he asks Millie why it matters what "these yokels" feel about her. I mean... You seemed to care a lot about how they saw you, Moxxie...
-Moxxie's excuse for why it's so hard for him to get information on the case is that everyone's too busy "swooning over" Millie. Here's a thought: Why doesn't Millie get the info? She's the one everyone likes, so it should be a snap, right? Well, once again, the characters get railroaded because the writers can't entertain any other plot ideas. And of course Moxxie ends up getting blamed for everything as if he's the only one who fucked up here.
-Why the hell would a summer camp show so much favoritism toward a single camper that they set up a friggin' concert for this camper and this camper only? Yeah yeah, "viral sensation" and everything, but 1) The news crew can wait another day or so for camp to end in order to conduct an interview (y'know, something that wouldn't require a huge-ass stage and pyrotechnics that'd cost the camp boatloads of money), and 2) The camp staff thinks Millie is a child. How fucking irresponsible can you get to lavish this much attention on a kid? Think it'll go to her head or something? Psssh nah. Also, you're telling me none of the other campers are the tiniest bit jealous? How do you think they feel, seeing this one kid get treated like a god while they're left in the dust?
Okay, plot-wise, the writers decided they wanted Millie to sing a song so she's occupied during the final showdown with the killer. Easy solution: Camp talent show. That way, the adults treat all the campers equally, and Millie gets her (more believable) moment in the spotlight.
-Oh hey, we finally see Asmodean crystals in action. And of course the first one we see is a butt plug.
SuCh a MAturE shOw, GUys! (Sorry, I'm still laughing my head off at that.)
So, a bit of backstory for those who aren't familiar: We first learned of Asmodean crystals in the Season 2 premiere, when Stolas opened the grimoire to reveal Norse runes on its pages. Someone on the internet was kind enough to translate:
Now here's the deal: Blitzo tells the lust demon to open the portal with his crystal (even threatening him at gunpoint), leading me to believe only non-imps could use Asmodean crystals and that's why he needed the grimoire to get to the human world.
But guess what happens later:
Blitzo's sister Barb, another imp, uses a crystal on her bracelet to open a portal back to Hell. So what exactly was the point of stealing the grimoire from Stolas??
BLITZO. YOU. DENSE. MOTHERFUCKER.
Okay, maybe I'll be generous and acknowledge that there might be another explanation, like Blitzo getting banned from using Asmodean crystals because he's misused them in the past. (Maybe there's a spell that causes the crystals to burn him every time he tries to hold one. Something of that nature.) But at this point I don't trust these writers to fill in their plot holes. Or plot portals, as the case may be.
-The portals themselves are kinda pretty, though. I can appreciate that they look different from the portals created by the grimoire.
-Moxxie calls Blitzo "sir" in this episode despite Blitzo telling him to use his first name in Truth Seekers. Moxxie then uses it in "Ozzie's" (if I remember correctly), but now he's back to "sir" for unexplained reasons-? Coupled with how their relationship has reverted back to square one with Blitzo learning nothing (as well as no one bringing up the agents or what they can do to stop them leaking the proof that demons exist), do the writers just want us to forget that episode or what?
-Blitzo chastises Moxxie for dragging the case out for a week, but it took him a week to track down Barb. This hypocrisy is never addressed.
-At the boathouse, Blitzo tells Moxxie he's looking for his sister, then kicks down the door, revealing Barb inside. Moxxie asks, "Do you know her?" "Do I know her? That's my sister, fuckface!" That's... oddly repetitive, writers. I get that Moxxie wouldn't immediately make the connection since Barb's disguised as a human, but there's a more graceful way to handle that in the dialogue. Something like, "Is this her?" "Oh, now you're on the ball!"
-In an earlier post I expressed concern that these writers wouldn't handle Barb's addiction well, and I'm somewhat relieved they didn't go into it. But I also predicted she'd amount to a genderbent Blitzo instead of having her own personality, and... well...
Overindulges in addictive substances? Check. Runs a business that requires travel to the human world? Check. Pottymouth? Check. Uses sexuality as leverage? Check.
It would've been nice to at least get a hint about what Blitzo did to make her hate him so much (and perhaps confronting that would make him rethink how he treats Moxxie-?), but I guess we'll have to find out when she comes back in seven episodes or so. Yaaaaay.
-Barb says she picked this particular human as her supplier because teenagers are easy to manipulate, but she really had no way to accomplish that other than flashing her panties at him? Assuming Barb and Blitzo are the same age, she's in her 30s, and... it's just a tad creepy and uncalled for, even if this kid's legal. That's a pretty big age (and power) gap regardless. This is one of those times when it looks a lot more predatory when you switch the genders, but, importantly, women can be predators too. Bad optics, y'all.
-The climactic fight scenes in prior episodes were snappy and exciting, but this one's pacing felt really sluggish. I get that the song in the background had a slower tempo than we're used to in these action scenes, but would it have been so hard to double-time the animation? Also, previous fight scenes were notable for their creative choreography, but Barb wrapped her tail around Moxxie twice in a row. Having trouble coming up with new fight moves, guys? Like damn, she's an acrobat. She could do so much more.
-In another edition of "characters being idiots because plot", Moxxie and Millie make out in front of everyone who thinks they're related. They couldn't have run off to somewhere more private?? Apparently no; this needed to happen so Millie's internet fame would be dashed... or, here's another option: Show how the internet popularity cycle is so damn short that everyone's already moved on to the next sensation. You could have made that funny if you actually put in some effort. Like... The faux-incest was just so unnecessary.
-Much like Murder Family, another unfunny ending where Moxxie's dreams are crushed. Blitzo gets his hopes up only to call him a "fuckin' disgrace". But remember, guys: He'S HArd oN hiM BEcauSE hE CAreS! (Fuck it, I think I'll just edit a supercut of every time Blitzo has berated Moxxie, pre- and post-Truth Seekers.)
Oh and look, Millie's glaring at Blitzo, which is totally the same as opening her mouth to tell him off like he deserves, right?
She'll take on a whole gang of mobsters out of love for Moxxie, but standing up to Blitzo? Whoa, that's a step too far. Y'know, because he's the writers' favorite and he shouldn't have to experience any complications from his behavior. Same old story as it's been for a season and a half.
This ending would've been a million times better if it left off on a cliffhanger. Maybe this could have been Moxxie's final breaking point. After Blitzo calls him a disgrace, Moxxie could take a deep breath and...
MOXXIE: (flatly) I quit.
Then he walks out of the room. Everyone looks after him, stunned. When he closes the door, the screen cuts to black and the credits roll.
Oh shit, what's going to happen next? How will Blitzo deal with this? How will it affect Moxxie and Millie's home life? What kind of new job will Moxxie find to keep food on the table? Will he ever come back to IMP, or will Blitzo find a replacement? I know these writers aren't too interested in serialization or any sense of continuity outside of the stupid romance subplot (or hell, inside it), but good god, it would give viewers some exciting possibilities to look forward to.
This episode had so much potential and followed through on none of it. "Unhappy Campers" turned out to be a more fitting title than expected, as that's exactly what I was while watching this.
(Also this show needs a continuity coordinator like yesterday.)
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Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 2 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤ and Illustration credit to @boredth ❤️
Original Post Part 1
Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘
Johnwickb1tsch:
As it turns out, faking your death involves taking some very gnarly photos with copious amounts of blood spread about. They will be released to the dark web, as well as the Underground network. John and Tex will get paid for a job well done. The FBI will receive the intelligence in due time, mixed with finding your blood and hair and skin at the scene. And once they off Dmitri, the man you witnessed killing the owner of the restaurant you used to work at, there will be no one left to care but Agent Bradford.
If he survives his wounds.
John and Tex are still perplexed about that one. He must be a tough bastard, but getting shot up even with a vest on would slow anyone down. Not to mention his blown out knee…
When next you wake you know you’re in a different location, even through your blindfold. Your hands are bound again, this time over your head. It feels like you’re laying on a soft surface, a mattress, and not a cheap one. You debate the merits of pretending to still be knocked out, or screaming your head off for help, when you hear, “Looks like sleepin’ beauty’s awake.”
From your other side there is silence, but you feel gentle fingers touching a lock of your hair. It sends a forbidden trill of desire through you, straight to your loins, and for the umpteenth time you wonder what exactly is wrong with you that you don’t 100 percent hate this the way you should.
Fuck.
“Please let me go.” Your words are raspy; your throat is dry as a desert. How long have you been out?
“We have to talk about that,” says Tex. “See, there’s a whole lot gonna be ridin’ on you.” You can just hear his shit-eating grin for his double-entendre.
“You’re a pig.”
“Aww, don’t be shy, darlin’. What did you think we were goin; to get up to when you got in my car? Playin’ pinochle? You wanted me, and I reckon’ that hasn’t changed.” You feel a rough hand sliding up your thigh that must belong to him. You try to buck him off, and find your legs aren’t bound. You try to kick towards the sound of his voice, but your limbs are heavy, and he catches your ankle.
“Boy howdy, someone’s flexible!”
He has you in an iron grip, and you give a frustrated scream.
“Don’t hurt her,” says the other one, in that quietly forbidding tone.
“Was I supposed to let her kick my head off?”
“Fine by me.”
Tex snorts in response, squeezing your leg in his big hand, just to give you a taste. You feel your bones creak beneath his grip.
Sweetwolfcupcake:
The whimper escapes you before you realise it. He doesn't hurt you yet, but the looming threat could not have been more explicit.
You utterly hate the helplessness, and the feeling of being trapped like this does not help.
"Tex..." The icy warning in his tone makes you gulp down and suppress another whimper.
"Loosen-up John, I'm not hurtin' her." You feel tge 'yet' is silent but hanging in the air.
Right, the other man's name- John. It slipped your mind before.
You feel the bed shift beside you before the warmth of the other body goes missing. You strain your ears, trying to guess what he is doing. When something touches your lips, you jump slightly, only to feel a large hand on your shoulder-- gentle and warm.
"It's just a straw. Try sipping through it."
John's voice is reassuring, soft even-- a stark contrast to the tone he used on Tex, whose fingers are still wrapped around your ankle. Much to your relief, John unlocks your hands from above your head, letting them rest on your front. You are disappointed when you realise that they're still bound, though. He helps you sit up a bit, adjusting pillows behind, before you feel the straw poking on your lips again. Taking the hint, you wrap your lips around it and sip the water eagerly.
You were parched, you realise.
Treedaddymcpuffpuff:
They take the blindfold off, and the world swims for a bit. You can barely keep your eyes open and your voice is soggy and slow. Once you come up for air, you realize you’re laying in a big bed with some kind of soft restraint holding your wrists together. Tex is sitting with you - he’s got your trouble making legs pulled into his lap, securing them.
You don’t bother fighting again, mostly because it feels like your arms and legs are made of sandbags. Everything is dull, blunted. Feels like you’re deep inside the dark, squishy confines of your brain, unable to break surface. You watch as John checks his phone, then looks up.
“Dimitri wants to meet.” It’s like he teleports out of the chair, gives you whiplash. He’s fast. He discards his shirt and jacket, replaces the bulletproof vest and gives you a perfect view of a scarred, tattooed, broad torso.
(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)
“Close your jaw, honey, or else you’ll start drooling.” This from Tex, who you try to kill with a glare. He seems highly amused. You look away from John quickly, not even realizing you were starring so blatantly. Your body fills with different types of heat, ones that are much harder to hide the effects of under the heavy drugs clouding your judgement.
“He wants both of us?” Tex asks.
(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)
“Tex, c’mon.” John drapes his suit jacket back on, pulls his Glock and does something with one big hand that makes it click and shift - you're starring again.
“Yeah.”
Tex whistles low, brushes some sticky hair off your neck and makes you flinch. “Dimitri’s grown some big cojones.”
John throws a spare vest at him. “Get. Ready.”
Tex rolls his eyes. “You can handle it, Wick. Lemme stay here and give this sore little girl a massage.” He knuckles into your calves, and you groan louder than you want to, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. It feels way too nice, because he’s right, you are sore.
“Tex.”
Your masseuse complies, makes a show for you - chest, muscles, masculine energy overly potent. You really do try not to watch, but it’s so hard, especially while Tex has that shit eating grin plastered to his face. And then there’s the weapon work, too. You’re not a fan of guns or knives, but seeing them handle and prep them, tuck them into straps and belts, it invokes carnal desire.
They’re going to leave you here again, alone, and you hate that, but what else can you do besides watch them go with a pathetic, doped up look on your face?
Sweetwolfcupcake:
They leave with the bedroom door locked, windows shut, and the room quiet.
Bizzarely enough, their absence bothers you. A strange silence hangs heavy in the air. You realise it eventually that it is the aftermath of the rollercoaster day.
In the silence, you finally break. Sobs break out with tears and snoot. You are really in a mess that is deep enough to have your life on the rocks, finely balanced by the intention of the two men who simply plucked you out of your life, your potential safety net and...That is tge scary part-- you are still unsure of their intentions.
You know that the smartest thing you can do is to adapt to the situation, but with the great powerr imbalance and unpredictable circumstances, every breath seems to be a nearing step towards death. You are not an optimist - never were - you cannot say that you are absolutely in love with your life, but you want to live. Your life before the mess was no fairytake-- an average life of an average girl, average problems that weighed you down. Now, when you think of it, you might even really fall in love with your average monotonous life only if you manage to somehow get out of the situation.
You try the windows and doors, although you know in your heart that they're no amateurs. They are seasoned professionals-- they took on Bradford with ease, the same Bradford you have seen handling four people with ease.
Bradford...
He is yiyr last hope. You are convinced that sooner or later, you will go crazy here. Who finds their captives attractive?
Embarrassed, you shut your eyes and sigh. You still feel pretty fuzzy, and the bed indeed is comfortable. With a defeated walk back to the bed, you slip under the covers, sleep is your only escape route for now.
Johnwickb1tsch:
It feels like an eternity, by the time they finally return. They look fierce but weary, exhausted from a long night, but their eyes are bright from the excitement of a battle. They both have splatters of blood on their faces—you doubt much, if any of it, belongs to them.
With wide eyes you watch as they start to shed their gear: the cluster of guns and knives that accumulates on the table is dizzying. If you could just get to one of those weapons…
Tex follows your gaze with a devilish smile. “Know how to use one of these, darlin’?”
“Aw. Is that any way to talk to the man who just removed the gangster boss who wants you dead from the face of the earth?”
(Thank u @boredth ❤️!!!)
“It can’t be that hard, if you manage it,” you snipe, straining against your wrist restraint for the umpteenth time that night. Or is it morning? You just don’t know.
This does perk your interest a little, though you’re almost loathe to show it. “You…killed Dmitri?” If it’s true…good riddance, then.
“Boy howdy. In fact, your buddy John here went a little trigger happy, and I’m pretty sure he wiped out the whole goddamn bratva. Everyone that was there, anyway.”
You blink, looking to the man in the dark suit for confirmation. He, however, is looking at something fixedly on his gun, not ready to crow his own praises.
Your heart is in your throat as you dare ask, “What…does this mean?”
However, Tex grins at you like a wolf to a sheep, and you do not feel safe, at all.
(By @boredth ❤️❤️❤️!)
“It means you should be safe.” John’s voice is deep, matter of fact. You get the sense that he really doesn’t use his voice much.
“Does that mean…you’ll let me go?”
“Eventually,” Tex answers. “If you’re a good girl.”
You swallow hard at hearing that.
John doesn’t contradict his partner, his intense dark gaze fixed on you. “You can have my half of the bounty.”
Tex’s head whips towards John. “You’re gonna give her 2.5 million dollars?”
“To start her new life,” John says, still looking at you. “In a different country, if she’s smart.”
Tex whistles at hearing that. “I like you, honey, but I’m not sure I like you that much.”
You, however, see exactly what John is doing. He’s giving you a reason to live. A reason to obey, a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise that if you can endure whatever they have in mind…you’ll not just get your life back. You’ll get…something better than your blue-collar working-class self could have ever dreamed of.
If only it didn’t make you feel like such a whore.
Treedaddymcpuffpuff:
You feel pretty stupid, to be honest. So, so stupid for fighting them. But, if they would have just told you - took the time to really explain what was going on - no, you’re pretty sure you’re the asshole here. Maybe?
You’re distracted - a frequent event with these two around. And now they’re covered in blood and grime and sweat from protecting you and the vague, whorish thought crosses your mind that maybe they wouldn’t mind getting their cocks sucked after that long, hard night of being your heroes.
Still, that’s exactly what you feel like - a pathetic whore. And you want to bury your head into a pillow and smother yourself. You look, eyes set and determined, at John. “You don’t have to do that.”
For the first time, a little grin cracks the side of his mouth. He’s devastatingly handsome, this deadly man. “I won’t take no for an answer.” Is his simple reply.
Tex shakes his head, chuckles, cuts in to the intense eye contact John is pinning you to the bed with. “Gonna have to stay with us - one of us - for a while though, darlin’. We gotta make sure that pretty neck is off the chopping block.”
That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Sounds like your libido is about to get a lesson it won’t soon forget. Sounds like you’re gonna be constantly on more edge than one the entire time you have to be with them. Sounds like you’re gonna have your hand in your panties a couple times a day and still come out unsatisfied.
Your voice - scratchy and timid. “Do I have to stay tied up the entire time?”
John swipes a knife off the table, walks over to you, grabs your restraints, tugging your arms up and slicing through the leather holding them together. Your heavy limbs go to fall, but he catches both your wrists in one one - oh, his pretty, stocky hands really are big - then lowers them to your lap gently and tucks the blade back into his waist. “Are you hungry?” That’s it? No threats? No intimidation? Why are you actually a little disappointed? But , god, your stomach comes to life at the mention of a meal. Must have been a while since you’ve eaten. You answer him honestly, “yes.”
Johnwickb1tsch:
What a devil’s bargain.
You think it bold of John, to untie your hands, with all those weapons at hand.
But then, what would you really do with them, against these two trained killers?
The smarter path to survival lays down a darker road, and goddammit if as you look between them, you don’t feel some small thrill of anticipation.
John has gone off somewhere to get you food, leaving you alone with Tex, who has stripped off his bloody shirt, his flak vest, then his undershirt. You’re not shy about staring this time, taking in the breadth of his bare chest and his toned arms. What’s the point in being shy now?
Tex smirks at your blatant appraisal of his powerful body. “My eyes are up here, darlin’.”
You huff and look away, crossing your arms. “You are such an asshole.” Your belly has begun to rumble, audibly now. It’s a little embarrassing.
However, a second later he has crossed the room to you, claiming your attention again with a calloused hand on your jaw, directing your eyes up to him. He doesn’t say anything, just pins you with those dark orbs, and like stumbling on a predator in the woods you dare not try to look away. Maybe he hides it with his aw shucks demeanor, but this man is just as dangerous as the other, and a cold chill runs down your spine as you wonder if he’s about to prove it to you.
You couldn’t be more relieved, than when John comes through the door with a paper plate of food and a plastic cup of what you hope is water.
Tex smiles down at you, the warmth returning to his eyes. He pats your cheek just this side of too hard, making you wince. You can tell John doesn’t like it, that Tex touches you this way, but it’s not quite enough to yell at him for.
You wonder how these two extremely dangerous men, who for all the world seem like opposites of each other, are going to manage this situation without killing each other.
Could you get so lucky?
Sweetwolfcupcake:
"You have somethin' in your head 'bout the road ahead?"
While you busy yourself with the meal, you keep your ears on the discussion regarding the road ahead. Keeping your eyes on the plate, you try to appear as disinterested as possible-- in reality, though, you want to know everything they have planned. John has been exceptionally kind to you, Tex is an asshole but has been tolerable until now. They promised to let you go and allow you to start anew. But you can't trust them just yet...
There's silence from John's end before you feel his eyes on you. You try to resist the urge to look up, but your eyes just have to glance up before you can force them to remain on the plate. They lock with John's unreadable gaze immediately, and you blink. It's unfair - you feel like he is reading into your soul while you are not able to decipher a single thought that runs in his mind. Even now, he appears to be an indecipherable abyss to you-- you know it's deep and dark, but find no hint of what is in there. You feel that there is a lot in there, though.
It is John who breaks eye contact, turning to Tex.
"Let's talk over a drink."
He offers, and with that, they both are out of the room. They shut the door behind, and you hear the distinct click of the lock.
What are they planning?
Treedaddymcpuffpuff:
Why do they keep leaving you? It’s starting to get really, really annoying. However, while they’re gone, it gives you a chance to take a shower and get cleaned up a little bit. This placed is obviously lived in. The sheets have a faint smell of some woodsy cologne and laundry soap and sweat, the shower has half empty shampoo and soap bottles, the counter has scattered, used toiletries.
Your old clothes are covered in dirt, and probably minuscule flecks of blood and other gross body fluids, so you turn your nose up at them and dig through the closet instead. T-shirts, jeans, boxers - men’s clothing. At least it’s clean and it smells good. You pull on a pair of plain grey boxers and then a black, draping T-shirt, feeling kind of like you’re wearing your dads clothes like when you were six years old and playing dress up.
A pair of black, thick socks completes your look. You’re comfortable, now, to go around the room and stretch a little bit. You still kind of feel too jiggly to properly function, but some back cracking and shoulder rolling doesn’t take too much out of you.
They locked the weapons away in a dresser by the closet, went out still covered in blood. Bold move. Cocky. Daring anyone to say something to them at this very moment, probably.
But, they’re back faster than you think they will be. Outside the door. Loud. Tex is at twice his usual volume, hooting and hollering. “I really do think you’re a bad motherfucker.”
John answers, something lighter perking his usually monotone voice. “Not so bad yourself, Tex.”
They’re getting along it seems, which you’re not sure is good for you. The door unlocks, clicks open, and you can immediately tell that Tex is drunk. He’s boisterous, holding John by the shoulders, laughing, face reddened, and - the biggest tell - he’s got an open whiskey bottle in one hand.
John is smiling, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. His face is a bit mottled, too. Are they both drunk? Your annoyance spikes. They could have at least offered you some after the shit you’ve gone through.
You perch on the bed, glaring at them. You get more than you bargained for when they both look at you. Their eyes do the same thing in unison - narrow and blow, go hungry and honed. The only difference in the way they stare at you is Tex’s lopsided grin. You feel like quarry again, and it makes you cross your arms and fold your legs into yourself.
Tex leans into John’s ear, voice low and almost taunting. “Those your clothes, Johnny?”
John keeps his eyes right on you. “Yeah.”
Johnwickb1tsch:
"Hey, who said you could wear Johnny's clothes?" banters Tex, approaching you with a swinging gait, the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.
You glance to John, who is watching your interaction interestedly, but makes no move to intervene.
"I said," you answer with narrowed eyes, tracking the motion of the bottle. It could be a weapon, or a gesture of friendship, all depending on the context. When Tex extends it to you in offering, you're a little relieved. And, a little thirsty, truth be told. Who knows if its a good idea, mixing alcohol and whatever drug they gave you earlier, but...you're being held captive by two dangerous mafia assassins. You need something to take off the edge.
You reach for the bottle, and almost grasp it, but Tex pulls back at the last second. "Make you a trade, honey."
"Imagine that."
"You can have a drink, if you take somethin' off."
Of course.
Cheekily, you start with your big black socks, throwing them at Tex one after the other.
John smirks as Tex play scowls, but true to his word he hands you the bottle. You take a pull--and immediately wince. Whiskey is such a foul spirit, as spirits go.
Tex chuckles. "Need it in a silver cup with a mint sprig, baby girl?"
A mint julep does sound pretty fucking good about now. If only he was serious.
"I'll live." You reach for the bottle again, but he holds it over your head.
"Nuh uh. It'll cost you more clothing."
In the back of your head, you almost find it interesting, how he engages your complicity in this cat and mouse game.
"Two socks, two drinks. Pay up, cowboy."
He tries to give you a hard look for that, but his eyes glitter with mirth.
"Fair's fair, Tex," nudges John, and Tex just gives a theatrical sigh, extending the bottle again.
"Diabolical woman, drinkin all my hooch."
You salute him with the bottle before taking another pull, longer this time. It should help you stomach...whatever it is they're about to do to you.
You hand back the bottle, and you wait. So does Tex, staring at you expectantly. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question of what?
He extends the bottle again with a pout of full lips that should be absolutely ridiculous on a grown ass man, but somehow is actually cute?
"I'm comfortable, thank you."
John snorts with laughter behind Tex, earning a glare.
"You gonna watch, or you gonna help? I swear, this is the damndest woman I've ever met..."
When John makes his way towards you, his steps silent and graceful as a leopard on the prowl--your heart sinks a little.
When he reaches for you, you recoil, but there's no escape. There's just his hand in your hair, holding you fast, and then his lips on yours.
The latter takes you by surprise, really.
His lips are soft, but exacting. He claims your mouth in a sweeping kiss, and when he pulls away he leaves you breathless, like he has utterly snogged you senseless. When fingers clasp the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards, it doesn't even occur to you to fight, until its halfway over your head.
Suddenly you are bare from the waist up, and you cant help but give a little scream, your hands flying to cover yourself.
The whisky is definitely not helping yet, and you begin to tremble incontrollably.
"Aw, I think she's cold, Johnny boy."
John reaches out to soothe you, petting your hair. "You're beautiful," he tells you.
You don't understand how his look can be soft, yet predatory, all at the same time.
"Ain't he a gentleman?" drawls Tex with a roll of eyes, taking another pull off his bottle.
Sweetwolfcupcake:
"Fuck off!"
That is your first response as you reach to snatch back the shirt. Despite getting a hold on it, John does not let go.
"Give it back to me!" You grit out--- the situation is suddenly not playful anymore.
Your gut has been right about John all along, you realise, as you glare back at him. There is a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes that has you making an effort to suppress tears. You hate being powerless, vulnerable, exposed.
In this situation, unfortunately, you are all three.
"How about a deal---"
"No! C'mon! It was gettin' fun." Tex groans earning a glare from you, which he returns with a hungry gaze.
"How about a deal..." John continues.
Your eyes return to the man who still has an iron hold on your (his) shirt. Your arms covering your modesty turn tighter around yourself as you narrow your eyes at him.
"I let you have this shirt, and you sleep with one of us."
"Just sleeping, right?"
John smirked, "Sleeping."
That does not sound very reassuring.
You wanted to demand that he promise, but looking at your position, you realise that you have no upper hand here. The power imbalance is glaring at you in he form of your naked upper half.
"We'll take rounds."
Tex spoke, his heavy hand splayed on your lower back, sliding along your spine, only to leave trails of goosebumps. You somehow contain yourself from arching your back. The tingles that arise are not helpful either.
"Y--you meant every night?" Your surprised gaze meets John's amused one as he nods.
"I'm not doing this every night."
You hiss out before you think and regret it immediately as the part of the shirt on your hold is snatched away by John, you wish to reach out, but you can't and you are almost certain that you see a flash of disappointment in John's eyes when you do not move your arms.
"Forget the shirt then." Tex chuckles out from behind you as his palm slides around your waist and rests on your bare stomach. The implication is clear and you gulp.
Not just gulp, you gulp down your pride and take a deep breath.
"Fine." You grit out.
You eye the shirt in John's hold, expecting him to give it back to you. But he keeps it out of reach.
"Take it."
Bastard!
"Not funny, John, give me the shirt."
"I won't move it away, I promise." Despite how gentle he sounds, his malicious intent is no longer hidden.
"Reach out and take it."
Tex sounds much closer, the smell of whiskey now prominent as his breath tickles your neck. His hold on you tightens, preventing you from moving your body forward.
No, you were wrong. They are anything but good.
At this moment, you sure wish for Bradford to kick their asses-- which are nice to look at--- Wait!
What the hell is wrong with you?
Adjusting one arm to cover yourself properly, you reach out for the t-shirt, and as promised, John makes no move to snatched it away again. His heavy gaze, though, flicks down for a moment before his eyes meet yours once more. This time, they have in them a heavy heat that burns through you. It's the kind of burn that a woman wishes to see in her man's eyes, and it would have been flattering and swoon-worthy if not for the situation you are in. Half-naked, trapped between two very dangerous, very handsome, but morally dark men.
You feel the heat on your cheeks and neck as you try to slip back the shirt. With a disappointed sigh, Tex removes his hold, and you heave a sigh of relief while quickly slipping your shirt back on.
Treedaddymcpuffpuff:
You have this strange, awful feeling that your captor-saviors have made some kind of bet or deal of their own - one that you have been blindly excluded from. You go from being thankful to hating them again. It’s giving you whiplash.
Tex yawns, and bombs down on the bed behind you, making you yelp and jump. “Speaking of sleeping, I’m exhausted.”
“Thought I was first?” John doesn’t sound humored. It reminds you of the fact that he’s drunk, that little pout in his voice like he’s disappointed. So, they did plan this, then. Angry fire blazes your insides.
“How bout we let y/n decide who’s first,” Tex reasons, never taking his hooded eyes off you - never dropping that sharp, horrifying, infuriating, promising grin from his mouth. He takes another chug of whiskey.
They both look at you expectantly, and you have never felt tinier. A fly staring at two huge spiders. You try to glare back, maybe keep some of your self esteem intact.
“Well?” John asks, tipping his head at you.
You’re so tired of playing these stupid little games with them. You’re so tired of being the rat in their maze. You’re so tired of hiding and running and lying belly up. You fix John with a hard gaze - for some reason, it’s much, much harder to do that with him than with Tex - and say, “I don’t want to sleep with either of you. Fucking creeps.” You get off the bed, stand up, hands on your hips, expecting Tex to look surprised instead of filled with gleeful delight - to your dismay, his smile is wider as he watches this adorable attempt at dominance.
“And if you touch me again, I’ll do worse than bite you.” You eye John’s gnarly, bruised hand, trying not to feel bad about it. Trying not to think with your vagina anymore. She’s still there though, tugging at you, a little thrill tensing her up - the reward for your bold behavior.
John’s on you, hand on your throat - not pushing or squeezing, just resting there. He bullies you back. You try to hit him, but he swats your hand away like it’s a stray hair tickling his face. When he presses you into the wall, you’re terrified - shaking, trifling, owl eyed. You expect him to be scowling at you - you wish he was scowling at you - but his grin mirrors Tex’s. That grin could send a pack of wolves running tail between legs.
“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, soothing voice such sharp contrast to the way he handles you and the hellish look on his face. It actually helps your nerves, quells some of that tremble originating from primal fear. “You’re okay.”
You press your palms up against the wall and they slip down, drenched with cold sweat. john has taken up your orbit entirely, so you’re shocked to see Tex suddenly at his side, helping him cage you against the wall.
“You’re okay,” John says again, titling your chin back to only him. For some reason, a part of you believes him - probably your stupid fucking vagina again.
“Why?” You ask, voice cracked and small, all your valiance gone.
“Atonement,” Tex drawls.
#tex johnson#john wick#tex johnson x you#tex johnson x reader#john wick x you#john wick x reader#yandere#yandere john wick#yandere tex johnson#john wick x y/n#wicked johnson fic
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The Outsiders Relationship Needs
Ponyboy / Physical and Verbal Romance / Physical Touch
Pony is definitely a man of praise
Darry putting all the pressure on him to get good grades
he def needs a few hugs and assurance.
No emotional because all that shi doesnt happen in my dr so shut up.
He loves hugs and kisses
snuggles
nose boops
head butts
anything.
He loves being touched in someway.
Like laying together listening to Elvis and The Beatles
he loves hearing your heart beat when he's laying on you.
He loves holding hands and running in fields together.
Pony is such a stinker tho
"Give me your hand, Y/N."
"Not right now, hun. They're sweaty."
-grabs your hand while you're distracted-
Pony seriously is the type of guy to like ...
idk how to describe it, but
if you told him "I love you so much."
and played with his hair
he would melt.
Johnny / Emotional & Verbal Romance / Words of Affirmation
"Ah man, I'm doin' horrible."
"No, Johnnycakes, you're doin' amazin'."
He would start crying.
If you wiped Johnny's tears and comforted him he would be a popsicle on july 4th.
Johnny is definitely the guy to ask someone why they're cryin and they wldnt answer and he'd be reminded of his childhood and immediately go to you.
"Johnny, baby, what's wrong?"
and he would just cry.
The moment he noticed you were fine with him crying and gettin upset at random times was the moment he started falling.
He's a sweet boy, but had too much put on him.
Johnny once told you (when he was black out tired) that he wanted kids so he could give them the childhood he never had.
He still smells like orange peels.
If you play with Johnny's hair while holding him close, he would calm down and melt in your arms.
If you washed his hair for him and told him he was so brave for trusting you, he'd smile wide and his face would slowly light up.
Let him vent to you and Dallas and Addie will immediately trust you.
"Hey, Dally, look at them."
"Huh? Oh. Yeah they ain't hurtin' him."
play Beautiful Boy and he will start crying.
Dally / Emotional, Verbal, and Sexual Romance / Words of Affirmation
Dallas is the kinda guy to go to you for some random reason.
Holding out his St. Christopher: "Hey, doll, look. I fixed it."
"Oh, good job, Dal!"
His expression would soften and he'd immediately pick you up in a hug.
Let him talk to you about New York or his father and let him cry into you.
From that moment on
he is all yours.
He once cried into Sodapop one night
all because he was under too much pressure,
and nobody ever said anything about it.
No one talks about anyone's problems to anyone, especially Dally's or Johnny's.
Dallas would sexualise himself to let out all that grief from childhood.
And the moment you told him
he doesn't need to be sexual to be respected or to be validated
was the moment he handed over his St. Christopher.
He feels he has to sexualise himself
just because he needs that validation.
But he soon figured out it comes in different forms.
"Dallas Tucker. You are so brave and you deserve to be loved, not whatever it is you're doing."
"...what are you doin' to me, man.."
as a single tear runs down his cheek
Sodapop / Physical Romance / Gifts and Quality Time
"Y/N, can we cuddle and watch a movie?"
"Of course! But first I got you something!"
He perks up like a puppy and his eyes always go wide in realisation.
Sodapop loves presents
when Christmas comes along, there is always presents for everyone that say
"to: johnny/darry; From Soda!!", "to: addie and dallas; From poppy<3", "too: steve /two-bit; frum: papi soda", "to: ponyboy michael curtis; from addie and sodapop<3"
always.
from.
soda.
he buys you the cutest things like
bouquets and stuffed animals
but he once bought ponyboy a stick of butter cuz he got his hand stuck in a jar once.
he loves holidays spent with the gang.
christmas huddled at the curtis's, halloween trick-or-treating, valentine's day with stevie, easter egg hunts (when yall were tiny), etc.
He'd so cry when you had to work and he wanted to hang out.
Sodapop loved spending time with addie and pony when they were little, but they grew up too fast, so he spends time with you because you're what he loves most
THIRD NEXT TO STEVE.
Two-Bit / Sexual & Emotional Romance / Acts of Service
Keith doesn't understand the value he has in the group.
Nobody would laugh without him,
nobody would go to the movies without him, etc.
He doesn't understand self-worth so he finds that in sex.
i mean its his third year as a junior.
he once asked addie why she was so down one day
and she just cried.
they both just sat and talked like brother and sister
(cuz the curtis boys forgot she wasnt in the car to go to the movies).
He loves it when people take his feelings into consideration.
Like when he sees "to 2bit frum sodopap"
(sodas handwriting is shit)
he loves it.
Feeling valued and like he matters
makes him happy.
Two-Bit is probably the most puppiest of them all.
Like
once you have him in your grasp
tell eachother about your emotions
and your past...
AND HE IS
ON HIS DEATHBED
(no offense johnny)
ask for his jacket once in awhile and he'll hand it over, he loves being kind
sometimes he'll give change to homeless people on the street just because he feels like it.
he once gave you his whole wallet to prove his love for you.
Steve / Verbal Romance / Words of Affirmation and Quality Time
"Stevie, you know you're so much more than your weight or your muscles."
and hes over here snot crying in fetal position.
hes head over heels for you and if you watch a movie with him and tell him hes so pretty or sum
he'll give you the moon.
Soda rn: damn. someone took my bitch.
Steve is the typa guy to want to spend time with you but not want to ask to or sum
THEN HE GETS PISSED???
LIKE... YOU DIDNT ASK YOU SHLDNT BE UPSET
But you comfort him anyways and push him out of that
He's such a sucker for you
like kiss him after the rumble
and tell him he looks tuff with his tooth missing
Darry / Physical Romance / Words of Affirmation
Cuddles.
Darrell loves cuddles.
Lay on his chest and tell him he's pretty
please he'll do anything.
Darry is def a guy to like
get down in the dumps
but
when you come along
"Hey Handsome"
HE WILL SMILEEEE
just ask him abt his day
let him cry in your arms.
hed be so in love that when he proposes
its a candlelit area at the park
and there are roses lined up like a heart.
Addie / Emotional and Physical Romance / Words of Affirmation and Gifts
If anything happened to her you gotta tell her its not her fault.
Tell her that and she will cry even harder but in a good way.
She loves gifts.
Sodapop spoils her on her birthday every single year
means you gotta Step up yo game bitch.
Listen to her
get her something shes mentioned she wanted and she is
AHAHAHA GET TEARS FOR FEARSED.
but addie isnt much of a Touch Person.
she doesnt care for hugs unless she needs one shes ok with kisses and hates holding hands or being touched on her waist and neck.
but if you wanna show affection
ask bout her day and what not
shes a lot like darry mixed with soda.
ik what I said last night so this is my last post for awhile. ich liebe dich Leute.
#darry curtis#johnny cade#ponyboy curtis#sodapop curtis#steve randle#the outsiders 1983#two bit mathews#dallas winston#the outsiders headcanons#johnny cade headcanons#ponyboy headcanons#darry headcanons#dallas headcanons#addie curtis#addie headcanons#steve randle headcanons#twobit headcanons#sodapop headcanons#Spotify
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My Pearl
An idea that @charliedawn made from their post. It’s like a soulmate au idea on my end.
Lester Sinclair x male!reader
Also, a birthday gift for the lovely @crumb. Happy birthday 🎉🎉🎉
Tw: blood, Hanahaki Disease, not proofread
He couldn’t stop thinking of you, and it drove him crazy. Every time he was on the road, he hoped to see your car, to see your face, to hear your voice. If he saw you one more time, he could be cured and he can move on with his life.
But that was a hopeless dream, both he and his brothers knew it. He would never see you again, and that thought killed him.
Then he got sick a couple days later.
At first, his throat started to itch. He would cough from time to time and took medicine to help it, but as the days went by, he noticed something terrible. He was helping his brothers put up a new welcome signs when he started coughing again. He bent over and coughed harder and harder until a bloody blue lily was thrown from his lips. Vincent’s eye went wide as he hurried to his brother’s side as he heaved in heavy breaths. Bo stood over his brothers and saw the flower bud. He clinched his jaw tightly as he breathed in and out slower. All three looked in disbelief at the flower in front of him.
So it was straight to the medical books. Vincent rereading books and pages while Bo did research online to figure out what’s going on. Lester, on the other hand, decided to do look up they blue lily to figure out what it was… that was until he started coughing again and more bloodily petals spat out in the sink. Each time he coughed, the more violent and bloody it got.
After that, their mother’s journals/guide books she wrote for the three boys. The only good thing she ever did. They read through all the journals until they found something.
Vincent held up his book and gathered his brothers together. Bo read the pages and eyes lit up as he read aloud, “Get this: ‘Lester has t’mark of pearls on his back. When he gets older, he’ll meet someone wearin’ pearls and they’ll be lovers’.”
“He was in pearls,” Lester informed. “Pretty ones, too.”
But Bo didn’t believe it. Soulmate marks were almost wrong in his family; how could he found his soulmate already?
Two days later, Lester fell for the worse. He drove home like a mad man pulled his brother from the shop to Vincent’s workshop.
“The hell, Les?” Bo asked annoyed. “What the fuck—?”
Lester took off his jacket and the air stood still and cold. Sticking out of his right arm, blue lily buds poked out of his skin as if his arm was a vine. He looked at his brothers as fear grew. “They came this morning,” he said nervously. “It hurts t’loft my arm.”
Bo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Did ya try cuttin’ ‘em off?” His answer was met with a bloodied, poorly wrapped bandage.
“Bo… ‘m scared.”
The twins looked at each other then back at Lester. There was pain in Lester’s eyes as he held back a cough. Vincent looked at his arm then his blood ran cold. He watched as a blue lily bloomed over his elbow.
“Oh, shit,” Bo breathed as the flower opened up. “Les, what’s happenin’ to ya?”
“I-I don’t know,” he answered scared. “It-it— ‘m hurtin’ and it burns!”
“It started after ya kissed ‘at boy, righ?” Bo asked, his mind spinning. “Like, the coughing and stuff.”
Lester nodded, slowly starting to put on his jacket. “Reckon so.” Just the thought of you and your pretty eyes eased the burning and pain. The bear idea of you in his arms…
“Okay,” Bo rubbed his hands over his jeans. “We gotta find ‘im.”
“How?” Lester asked in disbelief. “He’s gone by now! Ain’t never comin’ back—arh! Shit!” Les t threw his head back as his brothers watched in horror as a flower bud bloomed on his left shoulder. Lester staggered back, held his arm, and rested again the hot wall.
Bo shook his head as he reached with his little brother. “We’ll find him.”
Vincent nodded as he stood next to Lester. ‘I wrote down his plate while he was hanging out with you upstairs. Maybe we can find him that way.’ He lowered his hands and dug into his apron. He pulled out his journal and flipped the pages until stopping on one plate number circled in blue ink. ‘This is him. I remember it.’ Vincent handed the notebook to Lester.
Lester looked over the number and nodded. Reading it sent butterflies in his stomach. Your smile and you beautiful eyes and pearls on you. He love the idea.
All there is to do now is find you.
*************
You stood in your empty apartment and looked around. Boxes were piled in your car and you already sold half your things. You wanted to leave this place because you knew where to go. It’s crazy how you kissed Lester and wanted him to come with you, but it was even crazier when you thought about how you were going back to find him.
To you, you felt like you had to find him once more and kiss him. You had to find him. He felt so… so familiar to you. What were you going to do afterwards? You didn’t know. You just knew he needed you like you needed him.
It felt like you planted roots over his lips. Like flowers bloomed around your soul and over your torn pearls until there wasn’t nothing left of you. You have to find him… you have to.
As you came out of your apartment went down the steps to your car, you froze. That man that tried to kill you was parked next to your car. He wore a worn blue shirt with a faded graphic on it and dark blue jeans. His blue eyes landed on you and he stiffened a little. His hand held the ring on his finger as his boots clicked towards you. He didn’t look mad or angry; he seemed nervous.
“Mister,” he said as he stood a couple feet away from you. He fixed his hat and stood straighter. “I… I don’t believe I properly introduced myself.” He swallowed hard and held out his hand. “Name’s Bo, Bo Sinclair.”
You looked at his hand then at him, taking it. “Y/n.” You stepped back and hugged your arms. “Come to finish the job?”
“What?” Bo shook his head as a sad smile grew. “No, no, sir. I came in hopes t’get ya.”
“Yeah?”
He takes a deep breath. “My brother, Lester,” he hates begging, he hates it, “he needs yer help.”
“My help?”
“Yes, sir.” Bo looks at your car then at you. “Movin’?”
“Hoping to find Lester, actually,” you felt something burning your throat before you started coughing. Ever since you left him, you started coughing more and more. You turned away from Bo and coughed in your arm.
Stumbling back, Bo caught you and rested you against his chest until—
“What the shit?” You breathed. Shakingly, you held out your hand and looked at the bloodied daisy. You looked up at Bo in terror as his eyes widen.
Without a moment to lose, he led you to his truck. “Look, ‘ll gettcha to ‘im.”
“Now?”
“Yes,” he helped you into his truck and slid over the hood of his truck. “He has the same thin’ as ya, but he has blue lilies blooming out his arm now.” He started the truck and sped back to Ambrose. It’s a twenty minute drive, so that’ll give him plenty of time to tell you what’s going on.
“It sounds like Hanahaki Disease,” you hummed as you started coughing again.
“Hanahaki Disease?” He looked at you then at the road. “The fuck’s that?”
“A disease where flowers bloom over a person on an one sided love.”
“Well? Do ya love my brother?”
“I feel like we’re soulmates that were force to part after kissing, yes,” you answered as you leaned back in the seat. “My grandmother had that happened when she and grandpa were force apart after he kissed her before going to war.”
“What?” Bo looked at the bloodied daisies in your hands and lap. “It a family thin’?”
“Yeah,” you answered. “That’s way it’s important to stay with your soulmate. Didn’t your mom tell you?”
“She’s dead,” Bo answered as he turned down the gravel road leading towards Ambrose. “Never told us shit besides we ain’t worth lovin’.”
His voice was cut off by your throwing up on the flower of his truck. Petals and daisy buds fell from your lips as blood poured from the corner of your lips. Bo gunned it and flew towards town. “How we make this shit stop!?”
“I gotta kiss him,” breathing heavily, you looked at Bo, “and he has to tell me he loves me.” Your eyes glazed as you looked at the road. You thought of Lester and the pearls you left behind. You thought of his lips and loving kiss. The click and hold he had on you… it ate you alive.
Bo pressed out the gas and came into Ambrose as if he was flying a firecracker. What you saw as you rounded the corner broke your heart, and you felt a bouquet of daisies blooming around your legs.
In the middle of the road at the end of the street, Lester laid in his brother’s arms. He was struggling to breathe as blue lilies covered his arms and over his left eye. He was worse than you thought and he was fading fast. When he saw you in the passenger seat, his smile grew. Your here… you came back.
Bo slammed on the breaks and skidded until the car stopped. You hoped out of the car and race towards Lester. Inside, you felt a vine creep up your throat and you gasped, falling to the ground. You tumbled and skidded and struggle to stand. Flowers wrapped around your feet and knees; you couldn’t stand by yourself.
You felt Bo lift up and carry you towards Lester, large hands wrapping you up in a strong grip. “I have ya, firefly,” he promises.
His hand reached out for you as his breathing became shallow. Flowers bloomed over your body like wild fires in the summer. You thought of him, thought of his kiss and voice. You needed him like he needed you.
He focused on your neck and watched as a daisy blood out of your neck. "Hang in there, doll," Bo whispered. "Keep your eyes open. Keep breathing."
Bo lowered you carefully next to Lester and as close as he could get to him. “Yer-you’re here,” Lester crooked with a smile. His hand found yours. “Ya came-came back.”
You tried to sit up, but Bo helped you. “Les, ya gotta kiss ‘im,” he whispered. “It’ll stop all of ‘is.”
You tired to nod but you felt flowers blooming. “Please, Lester?” To say his name again felt like heaven opening for you. “Kiss me, please?”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. Gripping his hand, he kisses you lips. You tasked blood on his lips. As you pulled away, Lester brought you back for another passionate kiss. He felt as if his heart was whole again and the world made sense. He chocks on lilies as he held your face, taking in your beauty as if he’s seeing you for the first time.
“I love you, Lester,” you whispered, breaking the curse on him. You watched as the blue lilies died as soon as you said those words. The flowers fell to the road, leaving behind flower outlines on his skin. You smile as you saw him light up. “You look as cute as the day I left ya.”
Lester smiled as he kisses you knuckles, kissing the daises and blood. “I love ya more, pearl,” his eyes met yours as he watched the flowers fall off your skin. “I love you.”
Daisies dropped on the road as he kisses you again. He rested his head against your forehead and closed his eyes. “What’s yer name, daisy?”
“Y/n,” you answered. “I’m y/n.”
With Vincent’s help, Lester dug into his pockets and showed you the broken pearls. “Held on to ‘em fer ya.”
You smiled as you leaned again Bo. You were tired from it all, but you knew one thing for certain.
“Can I move in with you?”
Lester chuckled and kissed your hands again. “Never leave me again.”
You met his eyes as you felt that click again, knowing you found your soulmate. “I promise, my pearl. I promise.”
#lester sinclair#house of wax#house of wax 2005#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair fanfic#lester sinclair x you#lester sinclair fanart#lester sinclair fanfiction#lester sinclair x male reader#house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfiction#house of wax fanfic#house of wax x reader#lester sinclair x y/n#slasher x reader#slasher#slasher fanfiction#slasher fanfic#hanahaki disease#hanahaki disease prompt#house of wax au#Lester Sinclair house of wax
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@ask-team-grim
Dravena bumped her way down the long, stone-lined corridors. It certainly didn’t feel like any cave she had encountered. Yet it didn’t quite feel like any ‘mon-made structure that she ever visited either. It was far too foreboding for that.
Dravena jerked at the sharp thud of stones and a body hitting a wall up ahead. She raced towards the sound to see what was wrong. When she got there, she was horrified by what she heard. She felt the tell-tale sign of a fairy type’s aura twisting her stomach. But that wasn’t what alarmed her. Someone was terrorizing another ‘mon, threatening to rip the “fairy scum” apart!
Dravena pounced into the room. “Why’re you treating the fairy like that? Hurtin’ them when they didn’t do anything to ya?” The teen pulled her teeth back in a snarl. “Hell, I can’t even go within a few feet of any of them without their aura tearing mine to shreds. But that doesn’t mean ya can just slam around ‘mons that didn’t do anything wrong other than existin’!”
*It appears whatever force is holding the others doesn’t seem to affect you. However, you feel something or someone lift you from behind, bringing you closer to the Monarch. You can’t tell what it is. As much as you try to squirm and struggle, seems the other is far stronger than you. You feel someone forcefully grab the fluff on your chest and bring you forward.*
Monarch Destino: They are the reason everyone down here is starving! It is our history! Do they not educate children like yourself on how we ended up stuck in this hellhole?! It was the fairies! I say every single one of them should be made to suffer like we have. That's what I plan to do to them. You should be thankful I'm the monarch who is finally going to do something about them.
*Taking a small breath, Destino calms their temper. They sometimes had outbursts like this, especially towards the history of how their type ended up down here, along with the poison and ghost types.*
Monarch Destino: Interesting how you feel you can speak to your monarch in such a manner. I should end you right here and now for even thinking about questioning my actions. I’ve been the ruler of this kingdom for a year now. Surely my reputation should be known by someone as young as you. I don’t take kindly to those who wish to go against my authority.
*You feel the breath of someone on the back of your neck. You can assume it’s whoever is holding you from behind.*
Destino: I shall give you time to justify yourself, as you are one of my subjects. Failure to provide a reasonable explanation will end with you joining the rest of the corpses.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————
*@ask-team-misfit - Leif, you notice, even with the excruciating pain you’re experiencing, the shape of a Pokémon behind the deino. The air shimmers and warps in that spot but you can make out that it’s a Zoroark. There appears to be a crown on their head. You can’t make out all of the details of this zoroark as their form is obscured by the warping air.*
#absol#ask blog#destino the absol#pokeask#pokeask community#pokemon#pokemon art#pokemon ask blog#pokemon askblog#pokemon oc#tyrant Destino#tyrant au#oops turning this into a dnd campaign
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i think one thing that does set appalachia apart from other old mountain regions are the origins of the people who settled there: the scots-irish, many of whom were once indentured servants or the children of indentured servants; the "melungeons", a unique mixture of people that became its own identity, and also had a history of indentured servitude.
it makes me sad to see how racist puritanism began ruining later generations of mountain folk, because what separates the "hillbillies" from the classically (and hypocritically) puritan "rednecks" was not only their environment but the origin of their people.
for anyone, but especially for someone of scots-irish stock or melungeon stock, the idea of prejudice should be sickening to them, not accepted.
how quickly society forgets city stores with signs reading "no dogs, no blacks, no irish", or politicians remarking on the "horrible" and "race-mixing" nature of melungeons, or scholarly depictions of celtic folk as cro-magnons and impure.
all of the old people from this area i knew as a kid were so kind. "do what you want as long as you ain't hurtin' nobody else" was the rule of law, no matter how much they loved jesus. maybe, at times, especially because of how they loved jesus.
but thanks to the modern trend of "hillbilly" culture being seen as low class, depicted only when moonshine and fake joke teeth are involved, the entire appalachian culture has been diminished in favor of the nashville-esque, "son of a plantation owner" redneck-ism. and now even people raised in the area think that's all we are and ever have been. we used to be the opposite of that.
we were self-sufficient, private. we tended to each other and those on the hills near us. self-sufficient folk had little use for plantations, no money to hire servants, and a pretty good ancestral reason not to. our legacy is not that of racist rednecks, no matter how much erasure there is. people talk about dolly parton like she's one of the "good rednecks" - nope. she's just old school appalachian. a hillbilly girl.
last bit of ramble: when my grandmother was alive, she told me a story from when she was a little girl in the 1920's. she rode into town with her father to get a block of ice at the general store. there was a black man there shopping as well. life was so secluded that she had never seen a person with dark skin before, and she was a little frightened. her father patted her on the back and assured her that he was a good man, and that people sometimes had dark skin, and that it didn't mean anything bad about them. she wasn't afraid anymore. that's appalachia to me.
presented with no comment because: fucking amen. i literally could not have articulated any of this better if i tried. thanks for sharing this important bit of history.
and i especially love this passage:
but thanks to the modern trend of "hillbilly" culture being seen as low class, depicted only when moonshine and fake joke teeth are involved, the entire appalachian culture has been diminished in favor of the nashville-esque, "son of a plantation owner" redneck-ism. and now even people raised in the area think that's all we are and ever have been. we used to be the opposite of that.
we were self-sufficient, private. we tended to each other and those on the hills near us. self-sufficient folk had little use for plantations, no money to hire servants, and a pretty good ancestral reason not to. our legacy is not that of racist rednecks, no matter how much erasure there is. people talk about dolly parton like she's one of the "good rednecks" - nope. she's just old school appalachian. a hillbilly girl.
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burn the scorecards, balance out the scales
c!rivals | 2.3k | hurt/comfort
Hi @drmslastmorning, I'm your secret santa, and here's your @dreblrsecretsanta gift! One of your prompts was c!rivals fluff, so I took that and ran with it (and also made it angsty, because of course) I hope you like it!
Dream was quiet. Technoblade had expected that much, of course; he had been stuck in prison for, what, ten months at this point? And with next to no social interaction too. It made sense he might be a bit more withdrawn. But when Techno had visited (scratch that, was locked inside), it only took a bit of prodding to get him talking and emoting and everything, and, while they were first breaking out, Dream didn’t seem able to stop talking! Shocking, Technoblade knew, but he guessed freedom, hope, and the first breath of fresh air in almost a year could do that to someone.
But, once they were out and away from the prison, it changed. Dream was silent after that, constantly alternating between glancing anxiously behind them and staring apprehensively at Technoblade’s back. Techno could literally feel the eyes on him, boring a hole into his spine.
But that wasn’t the surprising part, or, at least, it wasn’t the worrying part. No, no, that was Dream’s stillness, his unsteadiness, the way he jumped any time Technoblade said his name and the way he flinched whenever Techno made a sudden motion or got closer to him. That was concerning, and what was even more so was his injuries. The second that Dream got his hands on armor, of course, he immediately tried to hide those wounds, and, admittedly, he didn’t do a half-bad job at it, but Techno had already seen them. And even if he hadn’t, he had been stuck in the prison with Dream for months, and that had already shown him what he needed to know. He’d seen some of what the man was going through and was able to infer the rest. None of it was good.
But that was even more of a reason that Techno had to take care of those injuries. They weren’t just going to heal by themselves, not when they were so many and so deep. But, before he could even start on that, he had to get Dream to agree to it first. Yay, Techno just loves confrontation oh so very much.
Technoblade forced himself to look over at Dream, who was sitting rigidly in front of the fire. The man hadn’t moved since they had reached the cabin. Techno was half surprised that Dream had even come home with him in the first place, just going off how uncomfortable he looked. Well, it was a good thing he had, because otherwise Techno probably wouldn’t be able to find him for a long, long time – Techno could admit that much. And, if that happened, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help Dream.
“Dream?” Techno tried. The man in question stiffened at the sound of his name, but he glanced over at the piglin for a moment, and that was enough for Techno to count it as a success. “You okay? Not hurtin’ or anythin’?”
“I’m fine, Techno.” Dream huffed and turned back towards the fire. He stared at the flames like they were the most important thing in the world, as if they held the secrets to life itself. Maybe they did, with all the weird magic in the world, but that didn’t mean Dream was going to get out of this conversation.
“You’re literally bleeding right now, Dream. I can see the blood,” Technoblade observed.
“It’s–that’s old. And it doesn’t hurt, not really,” Deam reassured him quickly. “It–I just kinda, uh, reopened some new injuries with all the–yeah. It’s not anything to worry about.”
“Really? Like, sorry for doubting you, but I literally am right now.”
“Look, it’s fine, Techno,” Dream repeated, irritation creeping into his voice. “It’s–it’s not your problem, okay?”
“We were roomies for three months, Dream, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to go straight back to that ‘cause you don’t have a house. Your problems are my problems, especially if your problems are gonna end up staining my rug.”
Dream sighed. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” Dream pushed himself up, wincing as he pushed himself off the ground, and turned to face Techno, the flames crackling behind him. “Yeah, I’m hurt. What are you gonna do about it?” he asked scornfully.
“Just heal them up.” Techno patted the spot on the couch next to him. Dream reluctantly obeyed the motion, going to sit next to him with tension keeping his head up high and back straight. He looked skittish, like he was about to run at any moment. “Can I see?”
“Fine.” Techno could see the face on Dream’s face and could tell how wary his agreement was. Prime, this was going to be difficult.
“Okay then. If there’s something you don’t me doin’, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” Dream nodded again, and Techno busied himself with pulling bandages and a few healing potions out of his bag. He had plenty, but, knowing what Dream had gone through and being able to guess it probably wasn’t the best option right now, he wanted to stay away from them if possible.
“So, um…” Dream cautiously offered Techno his arm, which he took with equal care. It was covered in blood, which was to be expected, really, even if it did make Techno question how Dream was still sitting up and not passed out from blood loss already, especially because he knew that this wasn’t anything close to Dream’s only injury, but, once Techno wiped that away (and got Chat to stop yelling at him, yes he knew it was blood and Dream was injured, no he wasn’t going to fight Dream) and took a good look at the arm, he realized there was a bigger issue.
“Dream, that’s a fracture.” Techno could see a shard of bone, pearly white, poking out of the skin of Dream’s arm.
“That’s–that’s bad, right?”
“Yeah, that’s bad. You’re gonna need a sling or somethin’,” Techno responded. He cast his eyes around the room, trying to find some fabric he could use. A blanket was carefully folded on top of one of the chairs. That could work, he guessed. “Just stay here for a moment. Uh–keep your arm close to your chest, I guess.”
“You don’t do this often, do you?” Dream snarked as Technoblade got up and grabbed the blanket. It was just made of cotton, so not too heavy. Not too large either, so he just folded it in half instead of cutting it.
“Phil’s usually the one doing this, you know,” Techno answered as he hurried back to the couch. “He’s way better at this than I am, trust me. We should still wrap your arm first, though.”
“Okay.” Dream only flinched a little when Techno took his arm and began to wrap the injury in the bandages he grabbed earlier. He didn’t want to risk anything shifting or the wound getting infected or something. That would be bad, Chat, and Dream was already having hard enough of a time as it was. No, Chat, please shut up and stop spamming Technosoft, he was just trying to be nice here, there wasn’t anything wrong with that.
For his part, Dream sat still as a statue for all of it, which made life a lot easier for Techno, so that was great. Technoblade guessed he was used to this, which…wasn’t as great, but still. It made things a little easier, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Soon enough, Techno had finished with the gauze, and that meant he had to figure out the sling part of this. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he grabbed the blanket from besides him, carefully folding it into a triangle. Dream just watched him, wide eyes following each movement.
“Prime, this is gonna be complicated,” Techno vocalized, more to himself than to Dream. Now that Technoblade was actually facing Dream, the other man refused to meet his eyes.
“Dream?” Dream’s face snapped up at the sound of his name. “Is it okay if I stand up and sit behind you? There’s space, and it’ll be easier that way. And I’ll probably have to touch your neck or somethin’ to get this done.”
“That’s fine,” Dream agreed quietly, under his breath. “Just…thanks for letting me know, I guess.”
“Of course. It’s literally the bare minimum, and I think it doesn’t take much to reach that much. Some people,” Techno rolled his eyes, “seem to disagree with me ‘bout that, but who cares about them, really?”
Dream laughed quietly at that. It wasn’t the distinctive tea kettle wheezing Techno remembered, but it was still something. “Yeah.” As his laughter died off, his voice replaced it, soft and urgent. “Are–weren’t you gonna do it already?” Techno knew Dream well enough to know what he was really saying – I want to get this over with. “Like, I don’t think this was part of the plan.”
“Nah, it wasn’t.” Techno shrugged. “We kinda went off script there a bit, but it’s fine, we can just do it now. Just keep your arm close to your chest and find a good place for it, ‘cause it’s probably gonna be stuck there for a while.”
Dream nodded and hugged his arm to his chest, eyes warily watching Technoblade’s every movement. Techno stood up, blanket in hand, and set himself down behind Dream, trying to keep his hands visible the whole time. Once that was done, Techno cautiously reached over Dream’s shoulder to wrap one end of the blanket under his arm – admittedly, with a lot of help from the teletubby; it was hard to do something like that when you could barely see what you were doing – and brought the end to Dream's neck. Pining that in place with one hand, Techno reached for the other end of the cloth, careful not to jostle Dream, and drew it up to join its twin. He tied the two ends together and let go.
“That feel okay?” Techno asked.
Dream carefully shifted his body to face Techno. “Yeah. Just–not bad, but, uh, weird. Like it’s floating, kinda.”
“That means it’s working right, I think. But, hey, what do I know? I already told you that I’m not usually the one doing this.” Techno sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll probably look this over when Phil gets back, but that’s for later, anyways. I think that’s enough for now. We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning and try to take it one thing at a time.”
Dream nodded. “Sure.” He still sounded reserved, cautious.
“See, that wasn’t too hard, right?” Techno asked, mostly rhetorically.
“I guess.” Dream half-shrugged. “It’s just–I don’t like feeling like a burden.”
“You’re not a burden, Dream.”
“But I am! I literally am! What–what could I give you? What use could I have? What could I do for you? Like–I know why you broke me out, it was because of the favor, but why are you doing this? I don’t have anything to offer you anymore!” Dream shouted before flinching back at the sound of his voice.
Dream’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Not–not anymore. And you don’t have to do this. I’m not forcing you to do this, and this wasn’t part of the deal, and we’re not friends or something, so why are you doing this? Why are you helping me? If–if they know that you’re helping me, hid–hiding me, they’ll–”
“What will they do? Try to execute me again? I mean, we all know how that went last time,” Techno joked. He lowered his voice. “Dream. Dream, look at me. The server would have probably come after me even if I just left you out in the cold, Dream. They wouldn’t care. I broke you out, and that’s enough involvement for Quackity and his ilk to try and get me. It doesn’t matter if I help you or not, not to them. This isn’t going to put me in any more danger than I’m already in.”
“But I’m the reason you’re in danger in the first place! If you hadn’t broken me out–” Dream’s voice broke. “If–if you hadn’t come back–”
“That was never not an option. I made a promise, and I don’t break promises. That’s just not something I do, Dream.”
“Yeah, and you already fulfilled your promise!” Dream’s voice rose, angry and desperate, before falling again. He glanced away from Techno. “You don’t have to pretend that we’re friends, you know,” he mumbled, eyes downturned. “Q–Quackity’s not here.”
“You thought I was just doing that for Quackity?” Techno asked, taken aback. It was slightly true, yes, he knew, Chat, but they were still friends. He just didn’t know Dream saw it that way. Actually, that explained a lot of things, now that he thought about it. “Dream, I literally beta-read your Wattpad fanfiction.” (“I don’t write fanfiction, stop it,” Dream muttered) “Quackity didn’t know about that, did he?”
Technoblade sighed when he saw the look on Dream’s face. “Look. We were stuck together for three months in an enclosed space, and we didn’t kill each other. I think that makes us friends, y’know?” He guided Dream’s face up so he could see Techno’s eyes. The other man didn’t try to fight him, instead lying limb in his grip. “It wasn’t just pretending, Dream. Not for me.”
“I wanted to believe it,” Dream admitted quietly, sounding like he was choking over every word. “That it wasn’t just an act.”
“Well, it’s a good thing it wasn’t, then,” Techno responded. “You’re never gettin’ rid of me, bestie.”
Dream finally smiled at that. “Oh no, how will I ever survive,” he answered, rolling his eyes.
“Well, we’ll just have to figure that out, right?” Technoblade joked. “My views have gone up way too much just from being around you for me to let you leave right now.”
“I can still ruin your monetization, though,” Dream realized, eyes lighting up at the discovery. “You can’t make any money that way, can you?”
“You wouldn’t–”
“Yes, I fucking would–”
“I try to do one nice thing and this is what happens–”
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Dumb AU idea
Spy ends up raising Scout from a young age… Because they’re both werewolves and he had to be rescued from the sect of monster hunters.
Jeremy didn’t like the bad people; they always wore those stupid freakin black hoods and told him to shut up. They took him away from Ma when he was late coming home one night and transformed.
It wasn’t fair; he didn’t hurt anybody as a wolf. Ma said it was only bad werewolves that bit people and ate their animals. But they kept talking about him like he ate another kid, and like he would be happy if he did.
They didn’t smell right. It had been a month since he’d been taken here to this dungeon by these monster hunters. It was too dark all the time, there weren’t any windows. He was only 7, what was he gonna do if the moonlight did transform him? Bark? He was really sick and pale. And he felt like layin down all the time. But they didn’t try to fix it, and they got mad if he started talking. The fat one kicked him one day.
They called themselves strong, called themselves hunters. Who keeps a werewolf puppy in a dark cage and watches him all the time? If they were so important, why didn’t they go after grown ups that were hurtin people? New ones kept showing up, but the old ones didn’t leave. And of course, they wouldn’ta told him nothin if he tried to ask. They wouldn’t tell him what happened to Ma and his brothers.
Jeremy hoped they were ok, the others weren’t werewolves so they mighta been let go if the bad guys took them to the police. The bad guys all left the hallway for a while. It was their dinner time. It really sucked that they didn’t share that food, it was one of the things he could still smell right. Bet they hada lot of money too.
Somebody walked into the hall, alone. The bad guy was really tall and skinny, and Jeremy couldn’t see him under the hood. He smelled like smoke, and smoke meant fire. Jeremy didn’t like fire, the bad guys burned people up too much. The monster hunter got real close to the cage and made him nervous. He shuffled to the back of the cage and glared up at the man. They could always poke him or shake the cage around if he got too angry, but this way he couldn’t get kicked.
The monster hunter kneeled down and stuck his hand in the cage. Jeremy snarled and got small again; he didn’t trust these guys, they’d been mean to him already. The bad guy stopped for a minute, then patted his head.
“Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you to be very quiet and stay next to me, okay?” He stared up in confusion. The hooded tall guy unlocked the cage and opened it for him. “I’m here to get you out.” Jeremy scooted forward and tried to stand up, but he got real dizzy and fell. The man held onto him and mumbled something that sounded funny. Like it wasn’t English. “Hold on a moment.” The tall man said.
He took off his monster hunter robe, and Jeremy could see what he looked like. The stranger had a hooked nose and black hair with a little grey in some places. And he was wearing baggy red clothes. He pulled off his vest, and it wasn’t a vest at all. It was a big red bag with two straps. He picked Jeremy up and put him in the bag. He frowned, not sure whether to trust the new stranger or not.
“It is going to be okay, I won’t let them keep you here anymore.” And then he put the bag back on, leaving the ugly black hood on the floor.
“I- I smell people-” Jeremy tried to warn the stranger, but the bad men had returned. They were all around.
“You. Who are you, you dirty infiltrator?” The mean fat one pointed.
The strange tall man didn’t look real bothered.
“Someone you’d like to treat just as badly as this little child. If you monster hunting pigs have any sense, you’ll let me take the boy.”
“And why should we give a disgusting werewolf to a spy in our ranks? What makes you think you can just walk out with our quarry?”
The tall man took a step forward, staring at the bad guys.
“Tell me, what made you double and triple your numbers these past weeks? Surely such skilled men are capable of detaining an untrained child.” A few of the bad guys grumbled. Jeremy almost felt like laughing at them. Almost.
The bad hunter man with all the silver on his hood stepped forward with his dumb metal stick.
“That is no common werewolf from this country. That is a European Dire.” The stranger just crossed his arms and said nothing. “Ugh, since you are clearly an uncouth hired nuisance, I may as well explain. A European Direwolf is a horrible, savage animal from the old country that willingly hunts humans. A werewolf version is-“
“More powerful than the wolves of America, bloodthirsty, incapable of controlling itself, evil, demonic.. Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before.” The bad people paused. They moved like they were trying to see if the stranger was really strong.
“Why do you know this?” The stick man sounded mad.
“I’m from Europe, it’s not exactly a big secret like it is here.” So the tall man was from all the way in Europe? Jeremy wondered how many other monsters were really strong there. “In any case, you abusive animals have been tormenting this boy who does not belong to you, and I’m leaving with him either way. Move or die, I don’t care.”
All the bad guys got real huffy about that and drew their swords and things from under their robes. Jeremy gulped. Did the tall man have backup? Where were his weapons?
“Silence, you insolent mercenary! You are guilty of infiltration and tampering with a high level quarry! Surrender and we may spare you your life.” The tall man put Jeremy’s bag on the floor and patted him on the head again. At least he knew surrender wasn’t gonna happen, which was relievin. Then the stranger stood up to face them.
“You are the one who is insolent, head of Boston Guild. You do not fear the child. You fear the wolf who fathered the child and the rest of the pack.” The hooded people got ready to fight, and there were like 25 of them so Jeremy wasn’t sure how one guy was gonna beat them. Tall man chuckled. “Evidently not enough to call upon your European faction. They may have stood a chance here.”
“What makes you so sure, mercenary?” Fat man grumbled. The stranger took off his shirt and popped his neck by pushing on his head, not caring about their words. He stared them down.
“Woof woof.” And with that, the tall man turned into a big black and white wolf. Jeremy stared at him in awe. His baggy pants were just the right size to fit him and his fluffy tail as a werewolf. All the bad guys started yelling and freakin out.
“D-d-d DIREWOLF!” Fatty screamed.
“It’s impossible! How did he transform inside?!” Some of the bad men tried to attack the big werewolf, but he knocked three of them into the wall with his tail and clawed two coming over from the other side. He stared at the fancy stick guy.
“ATTACK THE BEAST, HUNTERS. DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE INTO THE CITY!”
Like the wind, the grown up werewolf took out all the hunters but the fancy one. He ran away like a coward after telling them what to do. They tried swinging their heavy swords, maces and battle axes, but the big wolf was too skinny and fast for them to aim at the right spot. He bit-ed a few of them in half and threw the candle ch-handle-ear on about 6 of them. Fatty ran to the dining room as fast as his legs would take him, and the big wolf followed, grinning real furious like.
“Weren’t you the one who liked kicking Jeremy for crying?” From the hallway, the boy heard the big wolf say that and then the ugly scream that followed. When he walked back into the hall, his back foot claws were all bloody. The little boy looked up at him excitedly.
“Wow! You really got all’a them, Mr! Thanks a lot!” He thought real hard. “But how did you know my name?” The big wolf looked a little sad. He lay down and let Jeremy look at his face real good.
They had the same marking on their face and ears. Hey, didn’t Ma say…
“Dad?”
“I’m so sorry Jeremy. I thought you took after your mother. I never would have left you two here to be hunted by these bad people if I had known..”
“DAD!” The seven year old buried his little face in Spy’s fur and giggled. “That was so cool… Wait! Ma! We gotta go find Ma!” He sounded panicked.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got friends on the case.” Dad wolf put the bag on his back, and the straps fit just right.
The Head Monster Hunter ran outside, calling for the townsfolk’s attention.
“THE WEREWOLF WOMAN! BRING ME THE- the-“ She was already there with 8 monsters of various shapes and sizes.
There was a Red and black Dragonborne, and a maniacal vampire, a- an Australian elf! Giant Siberian Ogre, a Shortfurred Plains Bigfoot wearing a soldier’s helmet as a trophy, a Scottish Seabeast, and a poisonous Texan Arachnecentaur!
The Direwolf strolled out of the dungeon with the child on his back and nodded to the other beasts. He locked eyes with the woman.
“Are you hurt?”
“Naw. Your friends made sure’ a that.”
“Woah Dad, you got so many friends! What kinda monsters are you, you guys look cool!” The restless baby werewolf had transformed, seeing as it was night, and was fussily shifting around in his holding bag. His golden and white fur was fluffy and sticking up from the static.
The Arachnecentaur took the child and gave it back to the mother, who sat down on the Ogre’s hand and pet the puppy’s tummy.
“Thank you gentlemen. I’ll be along shortly, there’s just one more loose end to tie up.” And those were the last words said before the child was walked out of eyesight and his father tore the head hunter apart with his teeth.
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Songs and Ships Tag
Rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your ocs (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said wip (if possible!) underneath it.
Thank you for the tag, @theprissythumbelina.
Passing the (optional) tag to @blind-the-winds, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @void-botanist, @theimperiumchronicles, @ieppiq, and an open tag to anyone else who wants to join in.
So, now here's Sullivan and Road from Empty Names being "a secret third thing". Think of these all as being sung from Sullivan's perspective to Road, and in roughly chronological order:
Dear Fellow Traveller by Sea Wolf
Dear fellow traveler under the moon
I saw you standing in the shadows and your eyes were blue
You put your hand out, opened the door
You said, "Come with me, boy, I want to show you something more"
You spoke my language and touched my limbs
It wasn't difficult to pull me from myself again
And in our travels, we found our roads
You held it like a mirror, showing me the life I chose
Eternity by Mizz Fish
Friends like you are hard to find
So I’ll stick with you til the end of the line
We aren’t perfect but that’s alright
All your dreams, your passions, ambitions
You’ve told them to me like a man on a mission
And I’ve done the same to you many times
Somehow we made our way here just by lookin around
Somehow we knew what was lost had somehow been found
Because of you I knew I could be who I wanted to be without feelin a fool
In front of those who don’t understand
Because of you I knew that sometimes you may be hurtin
But that cannot stop you from feelin deserving
And following your dreams
You come runnin when I fall even if I don’t make a call for help
No one needs their eyes to see
We’ll be friends for eternity
Trying times and metal struggles
I know for a fact you’ll be there on the double
Because you won’t want me to feel alone
And anytime you need someone beside you
A shoulder to cry on, a friend to stay true
You know I would never let you down
The Funnyman's Smile by Michael McCormic Jr.
Well, I had a dream I was trapped in a cave with nothing but a magic lamp
I polished its side, and out you came with gold shackles around your hands
You said, "Son, I think there's something people like you and me should know"
Life is more than empty jokes and putting on a show
'Cause you can make the world smile, and get nothing in return
And in the end you find that what you give is what they think you're worth
Then you offered me three wishes, but I saw only one worth while"
I said, "I want the chance to make the Funnyman smile
Oh, give me a chance, a chance to show you"
Funnyman, you're not alone
No, even when you're crying
I'll be there to hold you close
And tell you everything will be alright
Because doctors still need checkups
Bartenders need a drink or two
The funnyman, still needs to smile
And these days, I do, too
'Cause all the times you made me laugh
Now they feel a little colder
To know that when life knocked you down
You cried on your own shoulder
'Cause you can make the world forget its problems for a while
But who was there to make you smile?
Tell me, who was there to make the Funnyman smile?
Oh, to make the Funnyman smile
Ship in a Bottle by fin
You can fit everything you know
In a bottle for you to show
Pick your brain apart and put it in
And build it again with needles and pins
Everything you have earned is a ship
With blue waves crashing into it
But nothing can touch your happy thoughts anymore
With your glass ceiling, walls, and floor
Between My Teeth by Orla Gartland
And I-I-I bite my tongue
'Cause I don't know how to tell you
I'm getting this urge to run
And I-I-I bite my tongue
'Cause I don't know how to tell you
Oh, you deserve someone else
Who can treat you like I want to
Oh, ah, ah, please don't lean on me
'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth
I, I think I better leave
'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth
I can't take the pressure of it, I can barely breathe
Ah, ah, please don't lean on me
'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth, no
Turtles All The Way Down by Sammy Copely
See, I could choose for the both of us
And you'd just go along because
You've trusted me for no good reason
Love no matter what the season
Force the last page of our story
You're my favourite allegory
Hope to god that you'll forgive me
My mistakes will long outlive me
Mine, mine is the unkind, kindest cut of all
And I'll watch you fall
And I don't know if this makes it any easier
Perhaps you'll find comfort when I say
You and I are nothing more than meteors
Never meant to live long past today
Yes, I'll choose for the both of us
You'll just go along because
You've trusted me against your judgement
You deserve someone who doesn't
Force the last page of your story
No more boring allegories
Hope to god you'll rise above me
Though you'll always be part of me
Mine, mine is the unkind, kindest cut of all
I'll watch you fall
Now watch me fall
And now a snippet:
“I see. I’ll leave you to it then. Just try not to rough anyone up too badly while you’re there.”
“Of course not.” Unlike with this job, Sullivan had given his friend his word about certain aspects of his conduct ahead of time. It had been long indeed since the last time his friend had simply explained a situation and left with no implication other than that they wouldn’t ask questions about what Sullivan chose to do with the information. It was certainly one way to keep their conscience clean. “Sleep tight,” he adds.
“I’ll try. See you later.”
The line goes silent but there’s no click of a hangup.
Sullivan moves to the kitchen, checks the freezer, and finds it surprisingly boring. No stashed electronics, frozen potions, or preserved body parts. He grabs a carton of ice cream, kicks another body out of the way so that its partially-crushed head won’t hold the door open anymore, and closes the freezer.
Returning to the balcony, he leans over the railing, balances the carton on it and begins scooping out ice cream with a knife. Much like the city vista below, it’s night black and speckled with glazed bits that reflect the glowing veins of light that run through it. At least the penthouse’s late owner had good taste in something.
He glances back over his shoulder and blinks through his filters. No significant signatures other than the already-ransacked saferoom. He returns his gaze to the view, eats his looted ice cream and waits with his phone still up to his ear.
“Su?” his friend’s expected voice finally whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Am I a bad leader?”
“Of course not, everyone loves you. They’d follow you anywhere.”
“But should they?”
“Hey, what brought this on?”
“This is twice now that Eris and Ashan have come back in bad shape, and every quest so far we all wind up separated.”
“That’s just a new team going through the growing pains of getting used to working together. The point is they came back and it’s not been anything they couldn’t recover from, and you’ve been able to help everyone you’ve tried to help. That sounds like a resounding success to me, especially for the early stages.”
Silence.
Consideration.
Waiting.
“Has this happened before?”
“Do you want me to answer that?”
“No. I don’t think I do. It’s just…”
Sullivan’s grip on his phone tightens.
“Just what?”
“I’ve been thinking about the gaps more than I should lately.”
“And?” They should barely be able to think about them at all.
“The list of reasons I’d want to leave them empty is pretty short, isn’t it?”
The ice cream carton tumbles down to the streets far enough below to be another world.
“You trust me?”
“For happily ever after.”
How bitter the old joke between them is.
“This isn’t going to be another gap. I would have tried harder to talk you out of it if I thought there was a chance of that.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Now get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“I’ll try not to dream.”
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Can we talk about self love rq from Across the Spiderverse and how it sums up Gwen's relationship with the people in her lives
Notice how everything is in third person in the song, using the word's she, her, etc. This song is about Gwen, we know that because it's layered over her backstory. Notice how it's her backstory, the song itself could be seen because of this third person pov that Gwen herself has in a way written these lyrics, as we know she used to be in a band and talks about not being able to find that band she's looking for.
In the verses, the lyrics
"Oh my, she's a long way from suburban towns
Came to the city for the love, got her hurtin' now"
- This referring to Miles, but also referring to the spider society in general because she's moved from her dimension (Yes she doesn't live in a suburban town when we see her universe but we're going for metaphors)
The chorus itself is obvious enough with the lines
"Self-love, he don't love himself, tryna love me"
- About Gwen's Peter. Although it isn't stated explicitly I do believe, at least on Peter's side he may have liked Gwen perhaps more than a friend. I get the idea they're meant to be presented as the best friends from childhood with one of them secretly having a crush on the other. So the he don't love himself is Peter's drive to become special like Gwen, brought on by the bullying thats plagued him throughout school life. He doesn't like the fact he can't stand up by himself. And the tryna love me part is again his love for her
"Cuff me, told the truth to him, he don't trust me"
This one is even more obvious with it being in regards to Gwen and her father, but specifically the point the reveal is made in the film. When Miguel and Jess come to take the Vulture back. The cuff me part represents of course the fact that George is a police officer, and has wanted to arrest spider-woman for a while now for Peter's death. Told the truth to him is again in regards to the reveal scene. She takes off the mask, reveals her identity to George. But George is hit with the realisation that's she been keeping it from him. He don't trust me - she's kept it for so long that now George is unsure what to do, but still fires his gun and is ready to arrest her if needed
This part of the lyrics establishes Gwen as a character. She has big dreams, she wants to be in a band, she wants to have Miles back, she's spider woman. But she also has big screams, her drumming is her shout to be heard, for someone to hear and understand the emotions she feels.
The line she's impressionable establishes how she wants this acceptance and ends up conforming to the spider society. Doing the things she believes is right because "we're meant to be the good guys". Even chasing after Miles because she's being told it's the right thing to do.
From live and questionable to drop top convertibles establishes how she was originally with her friends in her dimension, like with the MJ's band. She was this lively girl who maybe she was somewhat introverted but she definitely had a good relationship with them until Peter died because we see her wave to them and smile at the prom.
Love hangin' out, say you hate it now is a reference to how everything changed that one night. The prom night. How she lost her best friend, her identity, her vigilante but superhero role was in jeopardy because she was accused of being a murderer. She's stopped hanging out much, it's hard for her to do now she's lost the person close to her, Peter was likely even closer than George, seeing as they were best friends since around 4. And again the feelin' introvertical is a reference to how introverted she has become. Not only is it tragic because he died, but she was the one who accidentally caused it.
Anyway just had to quickly rant about atsv again :))
#marvel#spiderverse#earth 65#gwen stacy#spiderman across the spiderverse#peter parker#self love#metro boomin#george stacy#mj#atsv#spiderman atsv
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'I Won't Let Anything Else Hurt You' pt. 2
PART 1
Starring: Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson
Warnings: Eddie on amnesia. Crying. Wayne rages at a door. More crying. Emotional shit.
Wayne was standing outside Eddie's hospital room and he had been waiting for several hours. He knew Eddie was out of surgery and was resting peacefully, but he was still anxious to see him get back to his old self.
He held Eddie's jacket like it was his life support, and when the Doctor came out, he had a look of good news on this face.
"So, how is he, doc?" Wayne asked the doctor. "He's okay. Nothing is too wrong for him, and he's going to survive. He's asleep, but you may still visit him if wanted." The doctor explained. Wayne exhaled a sigh of relief and patted Eddie's jacket, "Thank you, doc."
Wayne then opened the hospital door to Eddie's room and walked slowly to his bedside. Eddie was asleep. Snoring slightly as he laid in a hospital gown and a life support on the side of his bed. Wayne smiled at Eddie and looked at the beeping monitor beside him.
"Looks like you are gonna make it, Eddie." Wayne said softly, "and when you wake up, we have so much to look forward to."
Wayne ruffled Eddie's hair and smiled at him, "I'm glad you're still here, buddy." As Wayne ruffled Eddie's hair, he woke up.. "huh..?" Wayne looked down at Eddie and saw him starting to open his eyes, "Hey, Eddie.. how are you doing, kid?"
Wayne sat down in the chair next to Eddie's hospital bed and took Eddie's hand and held it. "M fine.." he said, voice sounding tired and sleepy. "I'm glad you're awake, I thought you were going to take another nap." Wayne said and laughed, "How are you feeling, buddy?"
" 'eepy.."
"I don't blame you.." Wayne said, "You just got out of surgery and fought off the greatest threat Hawkins has ever seen. I'd say that calls for a few hours of a nap."
Wayne smiled at Eddie, "how's your side feeling?"
"Hurtin.." Wayne kissed Eddie's forehead, gently, "yeah, it might do that while it heals."
"Did they give you any good painkillers?" Wayne asked Eddie. "Uh-huh.." he was still under the amnesia, so he'd act a little weird. "Why do I feel like rainbows aren't gay anymor.." He giggled. Wayne's eyes went wide and he laughed, "you're on the good stuff, ain't you, kid?"
Wayne ruffled Eddie's hair and smiled, "I'm sure whatever they are giving you could make the grass feel like it's breathing, too."
He looked generally shocked. "Woaahhh.. grass can breathe?" Wayne laughed at how Eddie was reacting, and how cute it was.
"Yeah.. I think you might even be able to see into the future by tomorrow morning with what they are giving you."
Wayne rubbed Eddie's hand and smiled, "what else do you feel?" He giggled. "Like I usually do when I smoke the grass~"
Wayne laughed, "so you're feelin' good, right?"
"I think you're gonna be ok, Eddie. Just give yourself sometime to recover from all that has happened." Wayne said while rubbing Eddie's hand, "you deserve to feel good, after all you have been through. Don't worry, you are with me, and you'll always have me to take care of you. I promise."
He giggled again. "I know." Wayne squeezed Eddie's hand and smiled at him, "I'm glad you do."
Wayne sat down on the bed and made himself comfy next to Eddie, "and remember, if you are ever feeling low, just know that you have someone who will always be there for you. No matter what."
Wayne brushed some hair off of Eddie's forehead and kissed his forehead. Eddie's expression changed to one of what a toddler would look. "Mmmh.. 'eepy.." he muttered. Wayne chuckled at Eddie like he was an innocent baby, "you must be really tired from the surgery and the pain," Wayne said, "I'm gonna stay right here, buddy. Don't worry."
Wayne held Eddie's hand and smiled down at him, "try and get some rest now." He smiled with a very stoned smile before changing position and slowly falling asleep.
Wayne chuckled to himself and smiled as he watched Eddie fall asleep.
Eddie looked so peaceful and innocent and Wayne wondered if Eddie would actually be able to sleep through the night this time.
Wayne sat there and held Eddie's hand and stayed there through the night. Unfortunately for Wayne, Eddie was like a toddler. At exactly 3am, Eddie woke up crying like a child who's just had a nightmare. Wayne heard Eddie start to cry and sat up from his seat.
"Eddie?" He asked gently. He looked at Eddie with empathy and went to him to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. He rubbed Eddie's back and spoke in his usual gentle voice.
"Are you having a nightmare, buddy?" Wayne asked him. "Uh-huh." He sobbed. "It's ok, little buddy.." Wayne ran his hands through Eddie's hair and held his hand, trying to comfort him.
Wayne's words were soft and gentle, "it was only a bad dream, nothing real can hurt you while you are with me. I promise."
"B-but it was real!" He argued. Wayne looked at him with a worried look and rubbed his hair, "what was real?"
"The hole.. how I got it.." he whispered as if it was a secret. Wayne's worried expression turned to shock as he realized Eddie's nightmare was real in his own way.
"Shhh... it's ok, Eddie, that was in the past now. You are safe here with me now, ok? Don't worry." Wayne hugged Eddie tightly and rubbed his back. Eddie slowly fell asleep in Wayne's arms.
Wayne sighed in relief and held Eddie close to him, glad that he could help Eddie feel safe and protected.
Wayne looked down at Eddie's face and smiled.
"That's my boy.." Wayne whispered to himself.
It was the next morning and Wayne was leaning against the wall in the hallway outside of Eddie's room. He was waiting for the doctor to give his updates on Eddie and to see when he would be able to leave.
His heart was full with hope because he couldn't wait to take Eddie back to the trailer park so that they could celebrate him being okay. But when Wayne saw nurses and doctors rushing into Eddie's room, he knew something was wrong. Wayne's expression immediately turned to concern as he ran into Eddie's room.
"What's going on?" Wayne asked the doctors and nurses, and he looked at Eddie with worry. Two nurses went up to him. "Sir, you can't be here" Wayne got annoyed, "what did you say?" He asked the nurses, "I was just here not too long ago with him and now you are kicking me out?"
Wayne was confused by why they wouldn't let him in the room, and his attitude got worse when he saw two more nurses and a doctor run into Eddie's room.
"What's actually going on??" Wayne asked, "Is he ok or not?" The nurses forcefully made Wayne go outside the room and closed the door on him, not letting him see any further.
Wayne got really frustrated, and his anger made him mad. "No, no, don't you dare shut that door on me! I deserve to know how my nephew is doing, damn it!" Wayne tried to open the door, but they were locked.
"What the hell is going on?" Wayne shouted as he tried to knock on the door. "What happened in there?" Eddie screamed in pain. What the hell happened? Wayne's frustration and anger just grew and he kicked at the door multiple times.
"WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT DID YOU GUYS TO DO MY BOY??" Wayne shouted, not being able to contain his anger and frustration.
Wayne kept kicking the door and trying to get inside so he could see and make sure Eddie was ok. All Wayne could hear was Eddie's screams and cries. Wayne was getting angrier and more worried by the second. Eddie's screams of pain and crying were enough to drive Wayne over the edge.
"WHAT DID YOU PEOPLE DO TO MY BOY??" Wayne shouted again as he kicked at the door so hard he started to hurt his foot. "LET ME IN! THAT'S MY BOY IN THERE!"
After an hour, a nurse walked out of the room. "You may see him." The nurse sighed. Wayne was still angry and frustrated and his foot was sore from kicking the door so much. But he finally got to see Eddie so that is all that mattered.
Wayne went back into the room to see what had happened to his nephew and he looked at the nurse.
"What did you people do to my nephew?" Wayne asked, even though he had a good feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. "The stitches snapped, and the wound on his side opened, so we had to close it again." They explained, walking away from the door so Wayne could get in. Wayne's eyes went wide when hearing the stitches snapped. He didn't even know it was possible to do so, but he kept that worry out of his mind because he couldn't let Eddie see him worried.
Wayne slowly walked up to the bed and went to Eddie's side. He sat with Eddie and looked at him with a worried and concerned look on his face. "Hi, uncle.." Wayne was still mad that the doctors were so careless and let Eddie's wound re-open like that. He had to calm down and not let it show in front of Eddie.
"Hey, buddy... How are you feeling?" Wayne had a concerned look on his face and he had a serious tone to his voice. "I'm okay..." he mumbled. Wayne brushed some hair out of Eddie's face and looked into his eyes.
"Look at me." Wayne then looked at Eddie with an intense and serious look and spoke with an authoritative tone. "Do you promise that you are okay?"
"Wayne, it only hurt for like.. an hour." Wayne sighed to himself and smiled lovingly at Eddie, "I don't care if it only hurt for a second, I don't want you feeling pain at all. Ever."
He brushed some hair out of Eddie's face and spoke in a gentle and soft tone,
"And I wanna believe you when you say you're ok, but the nurse said a few things that are making me think you're not. Now, tell me, how bad does it hurt?"
"Probably a six out of ten.." Wayne's expression dropped a bit because he didn't want to hear that and he took a breath before speaking again.
"A 6.. That's still pretty bad." Wayne said and brushed Eddie's hair back off his forehead.
"How come you aren't crying and panicking more?" He asked Eddie, who was still keeping up a brave face. Wayne's question made Eddie let go, and he started crying again. Wayne's heart stopped when he saw Eddie cry again. He immediately wrapped his arm around him and hugged him tight.
"Shh.. it's okay," Wayne said, "I didn't mean to make you cry, kid. I just wanted to know how much it hurt so I could make it better." Resting his head on waynes shoulder, he sobbed, "No, n-no.. i-i was holdin' back.." Wayne patted Eddie gently on the back and rubbed his back. "Shh... It's ok." he said softly, "I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. You can let it out if you need to. You can cry as hard and long as you want, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, understand?"
He nodded and sobbed loudly into Wayne's hug. Everything in his body hurt more than it did before almost dying. Everything. Wayne's face grew worried as he felt Eddie's tight grasp on him and felt how much pain he was in.
He stayed holding Eddie, comforting him as best he could.
"Shh... It's ok, buddy," Wayne said soothingly, "I'm not going to let you go through this alone, ever."
Wayne looked at Eddie and brushed his hair back and rubbed Eddie's back, rubbing his thumb in circles on his back to soothe him. "Thank you.. t-thank you.." he repeated with a painfully sad tone. Wayne smiled warmly at Eddie and squeezed his hand. He continued to run his fingers through Eddie's hair and rubbed his thumb on his back.
"You got nothing to thank me for, kid. I'm just doing what any uncle would and should do. It's my duty and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Wayne held Eddie tightly and hugged him.
"I love you, kid. No matter what you're going through, just know I'll always be here and I'll always be with you. Nothing's gonna hurt you with me around." Wayne had never said such sweet things to Eddie before now. They never really spoke about loving each other. Naturally, he started crying more. Wayne saw Eddie start crying even more and his heart grew heavy as he felt Eddie's sobs.
"Shh... s-shhh, buddy," Wayne said in a soft and gentle voice, "it's ok, I'm here for you. Just let it all out."
Wayne continued to rub Eddie's back in circles and he spoke softly, hoping Eddie would calm down.
"I love you, kid, there's always a place for you in my heart, so just let it out and let all your feelings go." He was crying so much that he was physically shaking in Wayne's arms. Wasn't even breathing. Wayne saw Eddie was crying so much that it was making his whole body physically shake. His worry and concern grew bigger at seeing this and he quickly pulled Eddie in closer to him and held him tightly.
Wayne then spoke softly and gently and his hand gently rubbed Eddie's back.
"Shhh... shh, it's ok. I'm here, you're okay." After half an hour of crying, shaking, and comfort, Eddie fell asleep. Everything made him so exhausted that he couldn't even stay awake to process it. Wayne saw Eddie finally fall asleep and it melted his heart because he had been through so much the past few hours.
Eddie's exhaustion and emotions caught up to him which was nothing unusual after dealing with all he had just recently went through. Wayne couldn't help but also feel exhausted just looking at him right now.
Wayne held onto Eddie and let him sleep and he watched Eddie with care and protectiveness.
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#wayne munson#wayne and eddie reunion#emotional
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I'll Look After You - Part 5 - Bucky x Y/N
The next few minutes after their first kiss was filled with many more. Nose kisses, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, just about every inch of Y/Ns face had been kissed. She giggled, his mustache tickling her. 'I have to go now, I have to work remember?' she said between giggles. Bucky thought it was just about the sweetest sound he had ever heard,he never wanted her to stop, and he certainly did not want her to leave. He spoke to her between kisses. 'No (kiss) dont (kiss) leave me (kiss) yet (kiss) I'm not (kiss) done.' Y/N had never had someone treat her so adoringly before. She could get used to this. But for now she had to obtain some sense of decorum. She gently pushed him away by his shoulders until he was lying back on the bed. The look he gave her was absolutely sinful, until she backed away from him. Then suddenly he looked like a five year old who just had his lolly-pop stolen. 'I'm sorry. But I have to go get ready for work. I'll see you soon.' With a smile she blew him a kiss, smart enough not to get too close to him again incase he grabbed her and stopped her leaving again. She walked away as he smiled back at her 'I look forward to it.'
A few hours later, Bucky was bored. He had waited as patiently as he could, but Y/N still had not come back to his cublice. He knew she was near. He could hear her lovely voice as she spoke to other nurses and patients. He's certain he heard her walking with another soldier, helping him with his physical therapy. 'That's fantastic Lieutinant, you're doing a lot better since yesterday.' 'Thanks Nurse Y/N.' 'Lets try with me just holding one hand, you can do it.' He could imagine her sweet smile as she held the young Lieutinants hand, encouraging him to take more and more steps. Bucky again felt that little flame of jealousy. He knew she wasnt interested in the young soldier, but he was jealous that he got to hold her hand and see her smile while Bucky just lied there in his bed bored. When's my physical therapy. I need a lot of physical therapy. He thought to himself.
Another hour went by and still no Y/N. Bucky was giving up hope when his curtain was pulled back and there she was. She wasnt alone though, Dr. Andrews was with her. 'Good afternoon Major Egan.' the doctor reached to shake Bucky's hand. 'Afternoon Doc.' He looked to Y/N, she smiled while walking towards him. She stayed quiet as she checked his vitals while the doctor read Bucky's chart. Finally Y/N spoke 'Everything looks good Dr. Andrews.' 'Fantastic. How are you feeling Major?' the doctor asked still never looking up from the chart in his hands. 'I'm okay, ribs still hurtin' though' Bucky said. 'Well that will take some time. Usually 6-8 weeks until full recovery. But I'm happy with your progress. I see no reason to keep you here any longer.' The doctor finally looked up at Bucky with a smile. Before, this would have been great news to Bucky. But that was before her. Now the thought of being discharged was worse than crash-landing in occupied France. 'What? Really? I thought I'd still be here -' 'I'm not saying you can get back in a plane, but your typical Air Exec duties should be manageable. We will have you back in two weeks for a check up. Nurse, you'll get the discharge papers ready please?' 'Yes Dr. Andrews.' With that the doctor left.
Y/N was suprised. She thought Bucky would be delighted to get out of here. She was delighted for him. Sure she'd miss seeing him every day, but it was better for him and his mind to be away from the infirmary and the sick, injured and possibly dying. But the look on Bucky's face was not excitement. If anything, it was sadness. 'Isn't this good news? I thought you would be delighted. Yes its a shame you cant fly yet, but the weeks wont be long going by.' She figured that was what was bothering him, being at a desk. She tried to get him to look on the bright side. 'You can still work just take it easy.' 'It's not that I dont want to go back to work,' he said eyes boring into his hands. 'I just don't want to leave here.' 'Why on earth would you want to stay- oh.' she realised then. As he looked up at her with his baby blues, she realised he didn't want to leave her. He would willingly stay in this hellscape of an infirmary, just to spend more time with her. Nobody had ever liked her that much before.
He felt awfully vulnerable. He didn't like showing people he cared. 'I dont even feel it' being his frequent go to catchphrase. But he did feel it. He felt it for her. He needed her to know that he cared about her and didn't want to leave here. For fear of not seeing her enough, for fear that she would forget about him when he was no longer her patient, he wasnt sure. He just wanted to be near her. She made him happy, and happiness was in shrt supply these days. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. She placed her hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch. 'It's a pity you want to stay in here, with you out of the infirmary and no longer my patient, I thought maybe you'd want to go out sometime. But if you dont want t-' 'Yes!' he almost screamed, making Y/N jump in suprise. He quickly composed himself. 'I suppose that would be nice, I could take you on a real date, not like that terrible excuse of a date you had with Croz.' Y/N lightly hit his shoulder. 'Be nice! And besides it wasnt really a date, not like he picked me up or brought flowers or anything. We were just two people at the same place at the same time having a drink together. Besides I'm almost certain he's married.' 'Well I'll still show you a better time than he ever could, no doubt about that doll.' With a teasing glint in her eye she smirked, kissed his cheek and got up and walked away. 'We'll see.'
When Bucky was discharged around an hour later, he wanted to come find Y/N again to discuss their date. Their date. Bucky still couldn't believe it. He was going to go on a date with Y/N. He found her at the nurses station. 'Hello there gorgeous.' he leaned against the desk. Another nurse standing near by heard him and started giggling. 'Hello Bucky, finally ready to get out of here?' she smiled while giving daggers to the giggling nurse. 'Not quite. We have to discuss our date first.' 'What date?' What date? Had he dreamed it all? Was he sicker than the doctors thought and his mind was running away from him? 'Didn't we say when I leave here we-' 'You never actually asked me out. You just said you could take me out. And said it would be better than a date with Harry. But you never actually asked.' She was teasing him. Making him work for it. He admired her for it, and he liked playing this cat and mouse with her. 'Well, I'm sure I could find the time in my schedule to take the lovely nurse who helped my recovery out to dinner.' he smiled his most seductive of smiles, making butterflies appear in her stomach. But she had to play it cool. 'I'm sure you're awfully busy Major, don't worry about me.' 'Well I do have some extra time on my hands now that I'm unable to fly.' 'Well I would have to check my schedule, and I'm often booked up far in advance.I work long hours and of course there is all the special attention I like to give to my patients.' Her smile was sinful. The way she looked up at him from her desk, pencil between her teeth, it was sending Bucky wild. 'Ah yes, your special assets are very important to the patients here I'm sure of it. Perhaps they would survive without you for one night though? Maybe Friday?' It was then her expression faltered to one of geniune dissapointment. 'I'm working the night shift on Friday.' 'I'll swap with you!' It was Nurse Giggles, had she been listening the whole time? 'I'll work your Friday night if you work my Saturday night? There was actually somewhere I was hoping to go on Saturday night so you would be doing me a favour.' Nurse Giggles was suddenly in Bucky's top five list of favourite people. 'Are you sure?' Y/N said. 'Absolutely!' Y/N turned to Bucky, seductive smirk back firmly on her face. 'It looks like my schedule is now clear Major. What did you have in mind?' 'You leave that to me doll. I'll pick you up at 1900.' With that he winked at her and walked out the door. He was going on a date. A date with Y/N. All he had to do was plan the date. He had to plan the most wonderful date in the history of dates. Bucky's hear sank to his behind and his stomach did several backflips. Oh shit.
#masters of the air#callum turner#john bucky egan#mota#john egan#masters of the air fan fiction#masters of the air fanfic#john bucky egan x reader
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A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 9
Summary: It's the night of Max's big party, and David isn't looking forward to being dragged along. Michael comes to the rescue, not just to bring the fun....but to also bring a little romance~
Music from chapter HERE and HERE
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Lucy Emerson was a wise woman. She was as sharp as a tack and didn’t stand for nonsense whenever someone was trying to treat her with disrespect. Michael had always felt lucky to call her his mother. She had been an amazing role model for him and Sam, especially when she finally put her foot down and left her emotionally distant husband. There was just no stopping her when she had her mind set on something.
So when Michael decided to tell her about what was going on with David, he knew she would believe him. She never doubted her boys for a second. Hell itself had nothing on the fires of her wrath when he explained what he saw and heard with the boys.
“THAT NO GOOD, TWO-FACED SNAKE!” Lucy sneered. Michael watched her silently, letting her take in everything he had said after they finished breakfast. It was a good thing Sam was helping Grandpa with work because he’d be terrified seeing their normally sweet mother go on such a verbal rampage.
“I cannot believe I trusted that man for even a second! Who would have the gall to act like a gentleman and try to woo me when he’s hurtin’ that sweet little boy!”
Michael frowned to himself as he thought about all the pain David must have gone through. There was a lingering sense of guilt deep in his gut. A feeling that told him he should have seen the signs earlier. He was just so caught up in enjoying his time with his buddies that he didn’t notice the pain that David was going through. It made him feel like a pretty rotten friend.
“Believe me, mama, I don’t like it any more than you do,” Michael said with a sigh. “I know you really liked the guy and he gave you a job, but David is my best friend. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me since we moved here. I just….I wanna make sure he’s okay…”
“Oh sweetheart, I know,” Lucy said, her voice softening from seeing her son in such a worried state. She sat back down at the table, placing her hand over Michael’s in an act of comfort. “I’m not gonna let him go on and suffer like that. I’m ending things with Max and I’ll find some new work”
That only made Michael worry more. He didn’t want to put pressure on his mother to look for work on her own. He was the oldest boy, and he felt a responsibility towards his family. Not to mention it couldn’t really help David in such a situation.
“What if Max gets upset from you leaving and he takes that anger out on David?”
Lucy pondered over that little issue for a moment. It was definitely scary to think about what that man was potentially capable of if she were to dump him so suddenly. After all, the reason she was doing such a thing in the first place was how he was mistreating his son, and she had no proof other than Michael’s own word.
It was all such a delicate matter. David wasn’t legally bound to his father since he wasn’t under eighteen, but the threat of being hurt worse would keep him from going anywhere. Not to mention he didn’t exactly have the money to go wherever he wanted. The only place he could escape Max was the hideout and the Emerson house. As nice as it was, a boy needed a home, not a cave.
Michael wanted nothing more than to give David a proper home. It was the least he could do for the guy he cared so much about.
“Golly, what a pickle we’re in,” Lucy said with a sigh. “And right when Max was gonna introduce me to his friends at the party”
Michael perked up, blue eyes widening at what his mother said.
“What party?”
“Oh! Yesterday at work Max mentioned that he was planning a party at the Santa Carla Country Club. A lot of socialites gettin’ together. He even said I could bring whoever I wanted to we could all get to know one another”
The gears in Michael's head started turning. Anyone she wanted.
"Mama, I may have an idea. Somethin' that'll keep Max away from us and get David closer so he'll be safe. Do ya trust me?"
Even with the wild look in her son's eyes, Lucy was still intrigued by the idea going around in his head. Curious, she raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"You bet I do, sweetheart"
A plan was brewing for the Emersons. Nobody messed with the people they cared about and got away with it. They were going to make that very clear to Max.
Only the crème de la crème of society could gain access to a place like the Santa Carla Country Club. Although the city was dubbed “Murder Capital of the World”, that title didn’t apply to the swanky, upper-class community closed off from the rest of the area. Beautiful, towering beach houses surrounded by greenery and placed up high in the mountains to give the residents only the best views of the ocean.
Max had made quite a name for himself in this community, and it was exactly why he was so beloved at the country club. Though he could only visit at night, his acquaintances praised him for being such a successful businessman whenever they got together for dinner and drinks. It was no surprise that they all were more than happy to let him host a party at the club.
It had taken a couple of weeks to plan everything out, but the end result was truly stunning. The dining hall was decorated with the finest silk tablecloths and vases with elegant roses. Guests were chatting away under the light of the chandeliers above. Classical music filled the space, adding more to the atmosphere.
Everyone positively adored the party. Well, almost everyone.
While Max was having the time of his life schmoozing with friends over hors d'oeuvres, his four boys were all sulking off to the side of the room. Blending into the background without anyone else noticing.
"Ugh…I can't believe we have to hang out in the shadows while Max kisses asses all night long," Marko groaned out.
The boys were no strangers to being tossed aside whenever their Sire had company. It was already a nuisance being banned from his video store during work hours. To be completely ignored while he was around his colleagues and friends was an even greater insult. Even if they were used to such treatment, it still hurt their feelings.
It was one of the reasons why David always did his best to look after the boys. Making sure they were all happy and taken care of was the most important thing to him as the leader of their gang. Unlike Max, he wouldn’t even think about shoving his boys into the corner of a lively party.
"I know. This fuckin' sucks, but Max will raise hell if we don't keep this up. I can't let that happen to you guys," David explained, running a hand through his hair.
He had made a full recovery from the night Max attacked him. Nothing a little bed rest and a few gallons of blood couldn't fix. Still, he had been on his guard. He did as his Sire asked, running errands and gathering supplies for this big party.
David was not looking forward to this at all. Max was only doing this to show off what an "amazing" man he was in front of Lucy. He never could pass up a chance to flaunt his wealth. Dwayne, Paul, and Marko wouldn't even be allowed to speak to anyone. They were only to stand in the background and hold their tongues. After all, Max was a firm believer in the saying “children are to be seen, never heard”.
"Look, at least we'll get to see Michael. Maybe the five of us can hang out together. It'll make it a hell of a lot less boring,"
David found it more and more difficult to hide the feelings he had developed for their human friend. Every moment he spent with Michael put a smile on his face. With all the fun and thrills they had together, he found himself counting the seconds until they could all be together again. The boys had certainly noticed this, but they no longer teased him for it.
They wanted him to be happy, but they were also concerned that love was starting to cloud their leader’s better judgment.
“Let’s just hope Max likes him too. It would suck if he got treated like garbage like the rest of us,” Dwayne murmured.
The boys fell silent when a familiar-looking redhead made her way into the dining hall. Lucy was dolled up and in her nicest-looking blue dress, definitely ready for such a fancy event. She caught Max’s eye right away, and he excused himself from the group he was talking to in order to give her a proper greeting.
“Lucy! Darling! You look absolutely stunning, as always,” Max complimented her, going in for a kiss. Little did he know that when Lucy turned to offer her cheek instead of her lips, it was from a newfound disgust for the man, not as a way to keep any PDA to a minimum.
“Oh I am so absolutely tickled pink to be here, Max,” she said in her soft drawl. “And I want to thank you for letting me invite my guests along!”
Max was so blind-sighted by his infatuation for Lucy that he didn’t even notice the wicked glint in her eye. She wasn’t going to let him get away with mistreating David and have this night go however he wanted. So when a loud bang came from the doors swinging open and slamming against the walls, Max got quite a startle.
“WELL HOOOOOWDY!” a booming voice called out. Everyone in the hall turned toward the direction of the sound, including the Lost Boys.
It was Michael, and while he had a suit on for the occasion, he was still wearing his trusty cowboy boots and hat. David hadn’t a clue what was going on, but he had a feeling things were about to get interesting.
Michael turned around and ushered in a group of guests, a wild smile stuck on his face as he did so.
“Come on in, y’all! Let’s raise a lil’ hell tonight!”
Max’s guests looked on in pure shock as dozens of newcomers piled into the room. None of them were dressed properly for the occasion, as it was nothing but overalls, jean shorts, t-shirts, and cowboy boots. They all chattered away as they spread throughout the dining hall, making themselves more than comfortable in the extravagant party.
Some of them had trays and containers in hand, which they piled onto one of the nearby tables. The overpowering aroma of homemade cooking wafted through the room, which the Lost Boys immediately recognized after several nights of having dinner with the Emersons. Others carried in crates of beer and liquor to slip between the champagne trays. Those who hadn’t brought anything along quickly went for the guests, throwing themselves into conversations and either going in for a hearty handshake or draping their arms over their shoulders for a bear hug.
It was pure and utter chaos, and while Max looked on in horror, Lucy kept her smile plastered on her face.
“Lucy, what on Earth is going on? Who are these people??” he sputtered.
“Why Max! I would have thought you’d be eager to meet my friends!” she said. “These here are my friends and family. They came a long way just to be here tonight! Some are from here in California, some are from back in Texas, and some are just from all over the place!”
The Lost Boys were still hiding in the shadows as they watched the chaos unfurl. If there was one thing they truly loved, it was when things got truly wild. The four of them no longer felt like sulking, but rather had a shared jolt of excitement.
Michael gestured for a few of Lucy’s guests to follow him onto the stage where the classical music had been playing. They all had instruments ranging from guitars to banjos to fiddles and even a large set of drums. He had a spring in his step as he told them where to set up. It was about time they got some real music playing tonight.
Max’s frustration was growing stronger by the minute. He couldn’t believe how fast things were getting out of hand.
“I cannot let you bring these people into this club! They’re causing a ruckus!” Max ordered. He was slowly but surely losing his cool, yet Lucy wasn’t even bothered. As far as she was concerned, this was a way to get Max to show his true colors.
“Well, Max, you specifically said I could bring whoever I wanted. These people are my kin, and I ain’t gonna be here without them. So why don’t you just enjoy yourself, sweetie? You’re wound tighter than a Grandfather clock~”
She smugly caressed the side of his face before stepping away. There was no way she’d spend another second next to that man. There were plenty of real loved ones she wanted to spend time with.
While the band was finishing getting set up, Michael watched Max carefully from the stage. The older man was flustered beyond words, and he had to stop him from putting an end to the party before he could even let it begin.
The eldest Emerson boy looked across the room to where his brother and the Frogs had just wandered in. They were all dressed down, and buzzing with energy. When he and Sam locked eyes, he gave a nod to signal his baby brother to go to work. Already eager to get started, Sam motioned for Edgar and Alan to follow up right to the spot where Max was. The three boys all crowded around the tall gentleman, turning up the hyperactive charm to keep him distracted.
“Hey, Max! We wanna talk to you for a bit! Let’s hang out!” Sam chirped, dragging the man away from the area. Edgar and Alan provided the extra push needed to get Max going. All in all, the man was flabbergasted, completely blind-sighted by how fast things were getting out of control.
But while their Sire was getting pushed out of the party, the Lost Boys had an opportunity to make their way in. Michael took hold of a microphone on stage and spoke into it with his loud, clear drawl.
“Well howdy, everyone! My name’s Michael, and I wanna thank y’all for comin’ out tonight for a real good time. Let’s all get a little loose and dance the night away with some real good hits from back home!”
With a quick signal to the band, Michael gave them the go-ahead to kick off a song. The opening notes of Mountain of Love by Charley Pride kicked off, and the guests Lucy had brought in cheered in delight as they crowded together on the dance floor for a line dance. The members of the country club were still overwhelmed by this strange turn of events, but if there was one thing Michael’s family knew how to do, it was how to get others feeling laid back with a little fun.
David watched in awe as the fancy-looking party-goers were given plenty of drinks and some plates of food with big smiles from the more casual guests. Others were dragged onto the dance floor in order to get a proper lesson in how to dance to country music.
An eager smile stretched across the blond’s face. The old man truly deserved this, and he was going to enjoy every moment. Paul, Marko, and Dwayne followed him in emerging from the shadows and into the party. They weren’t going to be pushed aside any longer.
“Howdy, boys!” Michael greeted the four of them after rushing off the stage. He had a burlap bag on his arm that they only noticed when he got closer to them. “I gotcha a little somethin’ for the party!”
They all watched closely as Michael fished out the contents of his bag. In his hand, he proudly held four, black cowboy hats, all of them brand new and sleek-looking.
“I thought it might help y’all fit in tonight. Besides, black really suits ya!”
David never thought he’d actually be eager to put on such an accessory, but with the way Michael was practically bouncing with excitement, he couldn’t fight the joy of trying it on. He and the others all put the hats on, adjusting them over their mullets to look their best. Given how wide Michael was smiling, the hats must have suited them well.
“Thank you, Michael. Really feels like we’re one of the family now,” David smiled, tracing his fingers over the brim of the hat.
“Aww shucks, you guys were always one of us!”
The party was on. All of the boys rushed to different parts of the room, eager to enjoy themselves. Paul went to find Star and Laddie in order to get them into some dancing, Marko went straight to grab some of the massive supply of food the new guests brought with them, and Dwayne was already getting a drink to help him loosen up.
That left Michael and David. A familiar sensation of affection overwhelmed the blond vampire as Michael smiled his way. Never in the 100 years he’d been alive did he ever expect to feel so warm and fuzzy around anyone. He shouldn’t want to be with someone this bad. It could lead to him doing something stupid or careless.
Yet when Michael held out his hand to silently ask to go do some dancing, David took it without hesitation.
“Ya ever been line-dancing before, David?”
“Can’t say that I have. I’m not much of a dancer,” David admitted.
That didn’t seem like an issue to Michael. He simply gave a wink before gesturing for his friend to follow his lead.
Michael was an amazing dancer. His kicks were high, his sense of rhythm was perfect, and his hips swayed flawlessly. The notes of the song fueled every move, and David was happy to go along with it. Song after song after song was played by the band on stage, yet Michael kept on going. He was always bursting with energy, and it was so exciting for David to have the ability to keep up.
It made him grateful towards Michael being able to have such a fun time. The party was just the distraction he needed. Max deserved having his stuffy get-together crashed. Lucy was too good for him. In fact, the entire Emerson family and their friends were too good for him.
It made David that much happier to have them all in his life.
The hours flew by thanks to the wild energy of the party-goers. Turns out that the guests the Emersons brought along were just what was needed. Some of Max’s friends actually had quite a lot of fun once they were loosened up. To see the snooty, uptight socialites dance like they were at a honky tonk was pure entertainment.
But even good things had to come to an end. The human crowd was growing lethargic from the food, alcohol, and hours of dancing. A good majority of them had headed out for the night, stumbling and slurring country songs as they went.
It was almost disappointing when the lead singer of the band called for a last dance. David slipped off his hat in order to wipe the sweat from his brow. He had been going all night, and he wanted to save his energy to properly enjoy the song.
“Let’s close out the night with Ronnie Milsap’s My Heart,” the lead singer of the band called out to the remaining crowd. “So grab someone special, and hold em’ real close~”
David’s eyebrows raised in surprise as Michael turned right his way. His blue eyes were wider than ever, as if he were hoping for David to make the first move.
The vampire was more than happy to do so. He held out a gloved hand, soft smile on his face as he did so. This was really happening.
I'll take a long vacation
I need a change of scenery
I'll see the sights, go out at night
There'll be no time for your memory
Michael squeezed his hand while David used his other one to place it carefully over the brunet’s hip. In turn, Michael put his free hand over David’s shoulder, silently pulling him in a little closer than he anticipated.
I'll get a new apartment
Make friends that don't know who you are
'Cause when I'm through, I'm really through
If I can just convince my heart
“You’re not too shy to dance with someone like me?” David asked in a teasing tone. Whether he meant dancing with someone who looked like a punk or just dancing with a boy, he wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, he held his breath as he awaited Michael’s answer.
“Since when have I ever been shy about anything?” the human said with a giggle. He swayed to the beat of the song, not hesitating in jumping right in with their dance.
Oh, but my heart, says I'm not so smart
My heart tears my plans apart
My heart won't admit we're through
'Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you
The two of them moved quite well together. It was by no means perfect, as David found himself stumbling a little bit as they swayed. Michael didn’t mind it one bit. As far as he was concerned, David was perfect as he was.
He considered the blond to be perfect in many different ways. It made his cheeks heat up with a warm blush as he thought of how much he truly liked David. Perhaps even more than just like.
I'll call some old phone numbers
And I'll throw a party for a start
I've made a vow, it's all over now
If I can just convince my heart
The words of the song were swimming around in David’s head. He really did like Michael. As much as he wanted to deny it and fight off the feelings that were growing stronger by the day, he just couldn’t. For once, he felt weak. Powerless. Like he could be swept off his feet just from the look in Michael’s eyes.
It was just something he couldn’t ignore any longer. His heart was aching in his chest. Almost as if it were beating again.
Oh, but my heart, says I'm not so smart
My heart tears my plans apart
My heart won't admit we're through
‘Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you
The two of them didn’t say a word for the longest time. Both were dying to say something, but nothing came out. And yet, they seemed to have a mutual understanding of what they wanted. Their eyes gave it away so clearly. So did their lips when David and Michael finally met in the middle.
The last notes of the song faded into the background as they savored their first kiss.
‘Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you
Tag List: @silvermaplealder @cryptic-michael @legal-lost-boy @britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses
#the lost boys#tlb#my fic#ao3 fic#michael emerson#david the lost boys#michael x david#au fic#spotify#Spotify
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Could you do companions reacting to sole breaking down and confessing to having a weird unique pipboy with a saving/loading function (like having the game mechanic in the real life)? They'd try to use it for good, loading back to get the best outcome in dialogs and quests, or to keep their companions from getting hurt in battles, but it'd make them go mad with time, so they'd start lashing out, hurting people, doing horrible things to them before loading back and being kind to everyone again. They'd regret the things they've done later, but still snap and do these things sometimes.
One of the tropes thst I like really much for some reason lol. Horrors of being a god.
Cait: “If I had one of those Pip-Boys, I’d be doin’ the same thing.” Cait shrugged dismissively. “We all need to blow off some steam. Long as you’re not actually hurtin’ someone, I don’t see why anyone’d get their panties in a twist.” Cait wasn’t sure why Sole felt so guilty. As far as she was concerned, Sole could vent their anger and no one would be the wiser. She just asked Sole not to kick her ass and then rewind time. The idea felt embarrassing.
Curie: “I cannot believe that such technology exists. Is there a way you could prove it to me?” When Sole explained that only the person wearing the Pip-Boy could rewind time, Curie insisted she try it herself. She used a marker to draw on Sole’s cheek (since she’d never hurt Sole, even for science), then reversed time with the Pip-Boy. Even after she watched the colorful mark disappear, Curie wasn’t sure if it was an elaborate prank. “Maybe we leave powerful technology to the experts, yes?”
Danse: “That’s abominable, soldier.” Danse’s face was red and twisted with raw fury. “Your Pip-Boy is the exact kind of damning technology the Brotherhood seeks to eradicate from the Commonwealth. And for the very reasons it is corrupting you.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me so it can be destroyed. I won’t ask again.”
Deacon: “So, how many penises have you drawn on my face? C’mon, don’t be shy.” Deacon didn’t believe Sole one bit, nor did he have any desire to try the Pip-Boy himself when they offered. When Sole wouldn’t let up or admit they were teasing him, Deacon was more worried about their mental health than the inconceivable power they wielded. He asked Sole to start leaving their Pip-Boy behind on missions, even if it meant needing to consult a good old fashion map.
Hancock: “Punching down is still punching down, even if the little guy won’t remember.” Hancock didn’t need convincing to believe Sole really had a time-warping Pip-Boy. He could tell by the anxiety on their face that they were telling the truth. The mayor focused more on explaining to Sole that any act of cruelty was wrong. And, in a roundabout way, hurting someone innocent was hurting yourself.
MacCready: “Have you used it on me?” MacCready felt sick when Sole nodded. “Was it to help me in a fight? Or did you ever, you know...” He couldn’t come out and ask if Sole had ever killed him. Their friendship would be ruined. Instead, MacCready glared at the Pip-Boy around Sole’s arm. “Never use it again. Or we’re through. Got it?”
Preston: “If I get hurt on a run, just use a Stimpack on me. No need to reload my life and try again. How else will we learn from our mistakes?” Preston was gentle with his attempt to get Sole to ditch the Pip-Boy. Even if it put their friends in danger. He just didn’t think it could lead to any real good.
Piper: “And you never stopped to wonder if the Institute made that for you? What if every time you reload something else horrible is happening? There’s no way you can just time travel without repercussions.” Piper was more angry with Sole using technology they didn’t understand than hurting other people. It wasn’t like Sole’s victims would even remember. “I bet it has some fancy tracking device. I dunno, Blue. Just get rid of it.”
Nick: “If things do not turn out as we wish, we should wish for them as they turn out.” Nick didn’t care if quoting Aristotle was pretentious. He was worried Sole would lose their ethics. Morals. Grip on reality. “You’re playing god, Sole. That’s never worked out for anyone. You’ve already let it go to your head. Don’t let it go to your heart, too.”
X6-88: X6 deeply enjoyed the possibility that time could be rewound. How many people could be saved from a stupid decision? The Commonwealth was filled with errant bullets, bad calls and careless people. “You aren’t doing anything I wouldn’t do myself with one of those.” X6 pointed at Sole’s Pip-Boy. “With technology like that, the Institute cannot fail.”
#fallout 4#fallout 4 reactions#this was fucked up thank you i had fun thinking about this reaction#didnt edit this if there is a typo avert your eyes#nick valentine#fallout 4 cait#fallout 4 curie#fallout 4 piper#fallout 4 deacon#preston garvey#maccready#x6-88#hancock#paladin danse
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Carlos breaking down after the house fire always breaks my heart because while it was very scary for TK too he's more used to/has experienced being in fires before (although not his own place) while it must have been absolutely terrifying for Carlos who's never experienced one
YES definitely. As luck would have it I already have a little bit about that written for the tag for 2x12 here's a preview since I'm already in my feels about this episode
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“How you doing, kid?” Judd asks.
TK considers the question. It’s a layered, complex one, and not one he has a good answer for at the moment. Ten feet away from them, Andrea makes a heartbroken noise as she clings to Carlos. Over the top of her head, Carlos makes eye contact with TK, and his eyes are filled with tears again.
“Not great,” TK says finally, only able to tear his gaze away from his boyfriend when Gabriel moves and blocks their view of each other. “But Carlos is worse.”
He looks up at Judd. There’s a deep frown rumpling the man’s face. “We’re used to it.”
When TK shakes his head, not understanding, Judd gestures at the smouldering wreckage of what was Carlos’s house and elaborates.
“Fire. Being surrounded by it like that. It’s always scary, but you know what to expect. He didn’t know what it’s like, until tonight.”
“Yeah,” TK whispers. There’s an ache in his chest that feels like his heart might really be breaking.
“But he’s got you,” Judd says. His big hand settles, warm and heavy, on TK’s shoulder.
“What if I’m not enough?” TK asks. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, until it’s too late and he can’t take it back.
“Of course you are.”
TK shakes his head miserably. “We’re never around for this part. We put the fires out and then we go home. We don’t have to watch what happens after.”
“Just be there for him. Love him.”
“Everything he owns is gone.” TK blinks fresh tears out of his eyes. The only thing keeping him from falling TK the ground is Judd’s hand on his shoulder, holding him up like a puppet. “Every single thing. Clothes and pictures and … everything. I’ve never done this before, I’ve never helped someone through this kind of loss.”
“We never know what we’re capable of until the moment,” Judd says heavily. “I’ve seen the way you are together. The way he looks at you. I’m willing to bet it’ll be plenty good enough if you just hold him.”
“He said he was sorry there wasn’t a fire extinguisher in the bedroom,” TK whispers. “He thinks it’s his fault, Judd. He always thinks everything is his fault. How the hell do I fix that?”
Judd’s other hand comes up and grabs TK’s other shoulder, shaking him gently and making TK look at him. “Your man is hurtin’ right now. He thinks he failed you. Your job isn’t to fix him, your job is to convince him that he’s wrong about that. Okay?”
“What if I can’t?”
“When the hell did this TK show up? This isn’t the stubborn kid I know, I didn’t think can’t was in your vocabulary. We fight fire every damn day and suddenly you’re just about to let one win? Let one make your boy doubt that he can take care of you?”
TK’s eyes fall closed, and Judd pulls him into a tight bear hug. TK clings to him, hiding his face in Judd’s solid chest because he has to get this under control before Carlos comes back over. He has to be strong, like Judd said, for Carlos.
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