#wow i spent like two hours on this i think? am i crazy?
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bite the hand | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem musician!reader [face claim: clairo + clairo, boygenius and taylor swift music]
having fans are great, but sometimes it goes to far and you have to bite the hands that feed you
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 913,551 others
tagged: beabadoobee
yourusername: howdy ladies, gentlemen and all that's in between, it's single release day. i had so much fun on this track with bea and getting to pour all of my love for maxy onto such a cute melody... hope you all enjoy my loves x
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user1: YES THANK YOU MOM THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TODAY
landonorris: how many letters in devoured?
yourusername: ATE 💅
landonorris: ate and left NO crumbs
maxverstappen1: why oh why did i ever introduce you two
yourusername: because you love us both?
maxverstappen1: i sure love you, jury is out on lando
landonorris: boooooooooo
user2: ugh if y/n had to date an f1 driver why couldn't she go for one of the hot ones like lando or charles?
user3: for real like bro he just drags her down
user4: you can't be serious? he's a professional athlete at the top of his sport and by what they show us a massive softy who loves y/n? why would we want anything else for her?
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user5: y/n will NOT stand for any max bashing idk why you guys try it every time
maxverstappen1: so unbelievably talented and the artist of her generation
yourusername: maybe it's because i have a top notch muse ?
maxverstappen1: NO NO IT'S ALL YOU YOU ARE THE ARTIST I AM JUST LUCKY TO BE IN YOUR VICINITY
yourusername: i am the lucky one baby
danielricciardo: leave your cute shit offline i already have to hear it all of the time let me be on instagram
yourusername: nope love my boyfriend too much
maxverstappen1: nope love my girlfriend too much
user6: they're so insufferable i love them
user7: this song bangs so much more when you pretend it's not about ... him
user8: bro is acting like max verstappen ran over his puppy
user7: sorry i don't want a GREAT artist and BEAUTIFUL woman being dragged down by THAT
user9: you are insane, you do not know y/n, you enjoy her music, that doesn't give you the right to have power over things in her personal life
user10: you people are why this fanbase has a bad name and before long y/n will get fed up too
maxverstappen1
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 829,043 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: the off weekend spent right
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user13: i need a man so obsessed with me that all he does is post my face
user14: crazy that all this guy does is wax lyrical about how much he loves her and she's like never at his races ... interesting
user15: and her weirdly entitled fanbase say he doesn't deserve her when she clearly doesn't support him as much as he supports her
yourusername: i love you and our soft little weekends, i wanna do it all the time :(
maxverstappen1: gosh our day jobs are really quite unconventional i guess we should just retire to a remote island to live on a small farm?
yourusername: you said it not me i just wanna be anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i love you <3
user16: RETIRE TO A REMOTE ISLAND? SOMEONE TELL THIS RAT THAT IF HE IS THE REASON WE DON'T GET MUSIC WE WILL RIDE AT DAWN
user17: babe have you ever thought that maybe the reason he said that he wants to retire away from everyone because you people stick your noses in all the time
danielricciardo: @yourusername a soft weekend you say? how many hours did max spend on the sim?
yourusername: a solid ten but he even let me have a go
danielricciardo: oh wow that man really is in love
maxverstappen1: i think she'd rival a couple of you with some practice, i'm working on getting her to join redline
user18: ugh this is so annoying... preaching like you like spending time with your girlfriend and then spend it all playing a video game and letting her have one go?
user19: the sim is something f1 drivers use to train? if anything max probably shouldn't have let y/n have a go she could've accidentally changed the set up or other things
user20: i'm seeing charles and lewis training this off weekend and he just lies in bed with this girl? he really needs to ditch her to stay at the top
user21: literally two comments up is them talking about him training on the sim the jealousy is insane from both fans at this point
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, yourusername and 893,442 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy to take home another win in mexico, i love this track and am forever thankful to this team and my loved ones.
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user25: holy shit idk what f1 can do but the paddock looked insane today there's no way that is safe for the drivers and personnel.
user26: there's so many videos of people rushing max and although some of them look like max fans who are just excited but there were a lot of very rude rival fans trying to get too close for comfort
yourusername: forever proud of you !! you're like jimmy and sassy with zoomies on crack <3
maxverstappen1: that is the highest of the high compliment thank you my love
yourusername: champagne is on me girlypops no expense spared for the love of my life
redbullracing: do we all qualify as girlypops ???
yourusername: of course !! don't think i didn't notice the supply of vegan pizza rolls you truly are the lactose intolerant allies of the grid
user27: can she stop spending all her hard earned money on this scrub that just uses her
user28: bro makes millions in a year he doesn't NEED her but that doesn't mean he can't want her? you guys are crazy
user29: some of these fans need to do some serious evaluation, drivers are not zoo animals, they are people and deserve respect and that includes respect to their personal space.
user30: for real like why was brad basically having to act as a body guard for max and y/n
user31: this was such a dangerous event for max and y/n. they're both very famous individuals and should be able to move around the paddock without being in danger.
user32: max joked about getting a body guard for this weekend but i think he should seriously consider it especially is y/n is coming to more races while she's not touring
danielricciardo: it has been brought to my attention that y/n has stated that she will spare no expense, i am making a formal enquiry into whether this will cover my bar tab?
yourusername: i will within reason but only because your bffs with maxy and will drink the fruity lil cocktails with me
danielricciardo: REAL men drink cocktails
maxverstappen1: do NOT disrespect the humble gin and tonic on my post
user33: i'm glad they're in high spirits after the shenanigans in the paddock today and the booing towards max :(
yourusername
liked by taylorswift, maxverstappen1 and 1,442,776 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: there is no full way to articulate my feelings right now. my fans have to respect my personal relationships and my boundaries. i appreciate your support but you have to understand that i am not your personal friend and you do not have the right to my personal life. i also understand that in sport, there are a lot of heightened emotions, but drivers do not owe you their safety. this is something i have felt for a long time since max and i became a public couple and the onslaught of hate came for him. you may say that it comes from a good place, or for my best interests, but the manner in which some 'fans' have expressed their 'worries' is unacceptable. i do not want to bite the hand that feeds me, but there's only so many slaps me and my loved ones can take from the hand.
bite the hand is out on all streaming platforms. please listen closely a re-evaluate your relationships with your favourite artists, thank you.
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maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,220,664 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i love you and i will never let other people tell me when i'm not enough get in my head again. we both appreciate our support and acknowledge that we would be nowhere without it. but our relationships are ours, please respect this.
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yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,344,229 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: okay sad songs are important but it's now time for me to sing my wee little heart out about how much i love you and how i know we were always made for each other.
i love you maxy, invisible string is all about my muse. out now.
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user41: IT BANGS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
user42: ffs i guess we're stuck with this man for life now ...
user43: LISTEN TO BITE THE HAND AND BANG YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND HEAR THE PINBALLS OF YOUR BRAIN GOING CRAZU
user44: speak your truth sis
maxverstappen1: ISN'T IT JUST SO PRETTY TO THINK THAT ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME
maxverstappen1: so true, you make me believe in soulmates YOU ARE MY SOULMATE I LOVE YOU
yourusername: i love you to the moon and to saturn for real
yourusername: and that thread of gold is made from all of your trophies LET'S GO RAHHHHHHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
maxverstappen1: the gold of that grammy @thegrammys yall heard bags?
user45: the way they're each others wags and completely embrace it
user46: i love that they're still their goofy asses they don't give a shit abou t yall
user47: y/n dropped a heart wrenching track and immediately went ... but hey i'm SUPER happy and that's all you're going to hear
landonorris: so like can y/n remix the dutch anthem so we can actually bop every weekend
yourusername: i kinda wanna marry the king of the netherlands so maybe not
landonorris: you broke up ?????
yourusername: no you dumbass max is the king of the netherlands
maxverstappen1: not factually but i do have a medal from the royal family so same thing
landonorris: why do you guys have to clown on me every time
yourusername: you're like our baby brother it's our duty
maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry
user48: you could never make me hate them they're made for each other
user49: finally bite the hand shamed the crazy bitches into finally shutting the fuck up
note: i love bite the hand i actually fear it might be my fave boygenius song and i recommend it to everyone. i actually did my university dissertation on parasocial relationships with athletes so like i feel like a good couple of sports fans could do with a listen to bite the hand. hope yall enjoyed and had a good weekend !! (chelsea gave me a heart attack but what's new, even though i was too sick to go to the game:()
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1#f1 x you#f1 social media au#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen
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I'M ALIVE (BARELY) !! Work is kicking my ass. Also, lots of things went wrong for me this morning, but they all worked out in the end ?? Like I forgot to set my alarm, had to bring my mom's phone to her job bc she forgot it, my bus ended up running late because the doors would get stuck at stops. But I woke up on time, caught the bus after taking the phone, and made it early to work because the bus forgot to take the detour? My luck is insane (thanks Mammon.)
ANYWAY, i can no longer contain my thoughts about Mammon x Solomon x Mc. I'm just imagining my mc and Solomon who are both very curious, and love messing around with potions at purgatory hall, and finding alternatives to rare ingredients. This has definitely gone wrong a bunch of times (most days without a potion incident: 4)
and I'm imagining Mammon tagging along bc he misses mc and is jealous that Sol is taking up their time, but denies all claims - "I'm assigned to protect ya, ain't I?" "From Solomon?" "W-Well, he's a shady sorcerer!"
He sits on the floor by mc's feet, and will fetch them things because he can't say no to them. But he spends so much time listening to them brainstorm, he starts learning and will chime in randomly. Mc and Sol who are stuck on what to add, Mammon drops something in there, and they're both horrified until they realize the potion is perfect now. He just has a little database in his mind of what to add to something, and rare ingredients that the two wish they could get their hands on.
Thinking about Mammon doing a favor for a witch and she tells him to pick anything in her collection since she's low on money. He was about to be angry when he saw an ingredient that they've both been complaining is rare and hard to find. He asks the witch for that and then brings it to the two. He acts all nonchalant about it, trying to brush it off. Mc tackles him, meanwhile Solomon is in awe and staring with a twinkle in his eye.
Now Mammon starts requesting trades with witches, for a lower portion of grimm. Gets ingredients he knows they dream about, because the way mc and sol will get all giddy after he presents them with his earnings makes his stomach flip (he will never admit this)
"This is missing something" Solomon
"Yeah but I can't figure out what" MC
"Have you tried *insert seemingly common ingredient that doesn't work for most things*" Mammon
"But no one uses that, it's why we're always stuck with it" MC
"Couldn't hurt to try. See, watch." Mammon.
"WAIT, MAMMON DON'T- ... IT WORKED!?" Mc/Sol
----
"MAMMON HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS, IT ONLY BLOOMS ONCE EVERY 100 YEARS" mc
"Dunno, got it from a random witch. Said she didn't need it. *spent two hours haggling with said witch*"
"...am I in love?" Solomon, reevaluating life
"Eh? What are ya mumbling about? If you're gonna thank me, I want it loud and clear!"
my crack ship <3 they mean everything to me. I caved and hunted down the plushies of them on ebay too. ALSO I GOT TWO OF MY COMMISSIONS BACK AND I'M 😭 they're perfect !!! I'm so so happy with them. Literally the lock screen is beautiful bc it's me and mammon cuddling (HIS MUSCLES CC!! IM DYING) and it looks like it was taken by like asmo or something who walked in to wake us up.
i think I'm also a hopeless romantic, I'm just scared of confronting my feelings lol (you're right in that it is worth it, I just need to figure out how to be brave </3). I throw myself into romance books and fanfics. Vaguely related, thinking about coffee shop au with barista!Mammon and college student!Solomon.
OKAY SORRY IM DONE RAMBLING 😭 HAVE A GOOD DAYYYY
- ✨ anon
Wow that does sound like a crazy morning!! I'm glad it all worked out, though~ Mammon is totally watching out for you!
OKAY but all of that sounds exactly like Mammon! I mean, he's super smart, he just doesn't usually bother to apply himself to anything. So it totally makes sense that he'd just pick up things because he's spending time with MC and Solomon. And then of course he's gonna end up seeing rare ingredients and being like, okay yeah I'm taking that. That all sounds absolutely adorable~
I'm curious about whether or not Solomon and Mammon would make a pact in this situation? I mean, if it's both of them and your MC that are in the relationship, do you think they would? Do you think Solomon would move past his obsession with getting a pact with Lucifer and end up in one with Mammon instead?
I always felt like Solomon doesn't really get Mammon, you know? But that doesn't mean he can't learn. And oh man, Solomon is such a tease and Mammon is so not good at being teased lol. That idea is giving me so many entertaining images, I can't even handle it.
Anyway, I'm totally here for it! It sounds really cute~
I'm so glad you're happy with your comms!!! They sound amazing!
And don't worry, you'll figure it out. I don't know how old you are, but I suspect you have plenty of time! It's a balancing act, you know? It's important to be honest with yourself about your feelings without letting them control you. But it's easier to decide what to do about them if you know what they are. Anyway, not to get all philosophical over here lol. I think the key is to find someone you want to be brave for, you know?
AUGH I love coffee shop aus sooooooo much!!! I was very obsessed with the idea of barista!Mammon for a while, mostly because of a daily chat where he was working at a cafe and then got into a fight with customer. He's good at finances, so I think he could be pretty business minded if he wanted to be. So I was thinking about a situation where he owns his own cafe, but when the customers get rude with one of his fellow baristas, he gets into a fight with them lol. I hadn't really considered who that other barista was, but it could be MC.
Anyway, I could ramble about coffee shop aus all day because I love them aklsdlkfjdfjkl
I hope you have a lovely day/night, too!!
#starting to get on the SoloMams train over here#well I can ship any two characters#because I think everyone is compatible#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me mammon#obey me solomon#✨ anon#misc answers
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BLAME || Yandere! TDWT x Fem! Reader
2/2 EPISODE ONE (Walk Like An Egyptian)
This is part two
Ugh this chapter was so boringggg
You figured a flight from your starting point to Egypt would be a few hours, and in that time you decided to take advantage and get buddy buddy with a few team members. But first you had to get your head straight. You stood up from your seat next to Noah and made your way to the confessionals, not noticing the many eyes watching you.
Noah for one, had noticed you hadn't attempted to talk to anyone yet and were likely strategizing who would be best to talk to. she smells really good..like vanilla?
Courtney had also been watching you, not in the same way Noah had. She was just taking in your looks. She thought you were pretty but didn't want you anywhere near 'her' Duncan. new girl is kinda cute..I guess
And then there was Alejandro. He only took glances at you, as he did everyone. Simply to observe. See if you would be a good pawn. No current thoughts on you...just observing.
Heather was another person watching you. She had screwed up her chances of becoming friends with the people here in season one after becoming a total back stabber and manipulator. Her plan: become your friend and then dispose of you when you no longer had any value. Right now she was looking a little crazy and desperate in her corner of the plane.
CONFESSIONAL- Y/N
"To be honest...I don't really know what to do!!"
You paused and sighed.
"There are so many people here that could be useful but at the same time it's so hard for me to talk to people!"
"I think my best plan would be to..ugh! Is this even recording??" You hit the camera before laughing awkwardly after realizing it was in fact..recording. "Oops..embarrassing! Anyways! My best plan would be to find someone to be friends with, literally anyone. That way I have someone on my side always. And then find someone like Heather or Alejandro to use for their skills." You shrugged and stood up. "They won't know what hit em'..yeah"
CONFESSIONAL- Y/N; ENDED
You made your way back, this time noticing the people watching you, one of them being Noah. Perfect! He can be my friend. Also he has some sort of..comedic relief thing going for him so that's a plus.
"Hey! You're Noah right?" You asked, sitting next to him again. "No im just some random intern- yes im Noah!" He said looking annoyed and closing his book. "Okay chill it Empire State Building for a forehead, I just wanted to make a friend." He raised a brow...not like he wasn't half the time, "sorry pinkie pie, I'm not very fond of making friends with a pony." He took a hit at your very obvious pink aura.
"So what is it? Am I pinkie pie or a mystical elf?" You asked letting out a small giggle. He paused for a second looking in shock before continuing. "Actually, I said magical elf. And both." You hummed in agreement and took a peak at his book, "whatcha reading nerd?" Noah looked at you like you were tweaking. "Do you read?" He asked. You crossed your legs, "sometimes." Noah scoffed, "sometimes isn't good enough for me to tell you." He stood up, leaving you sitting next to Izzy.
CONFESSIONAL- NOAH
"That girl...she's cool I guess. Nothing special." He said looking unimpressed before he bit his lip awkwardly like he was trying to keep himself from saying something.
"SHE GETS MY HUMOR! SHES AMAZING!" He finally broke, yelling that out before pausing and looking scared like he just let his deepest secret out.
Noah started grabbing the camera violently and trying to pull out the tape, "I want the tape back! Give me it!" He let out a girlish scream when a rat crawled out.
CONFESSIONAL- NOAH; ENDED
You had spent the rest of the ride talking to Izzy, trying to figure out if she was smart or just crazy. Noah would sometimes butt into your conversations with yet another snarky remark and insult. Then the ride ended.
"You guys ready for a little fun?" Chris was being carried by two interns and seemed to be enjoying Egypt. "Wow! Its a scorcher out here huh? I call todays challenge Pyramid Over Under!" Leshawna looked fed up.
"An eleven hour flight, chefs in flight cuisine, and a forced musical number, now we've got a challenge?" Chris began getting fanned by an intern as Leshawna looked more and more pissed. "Don't cha love this game?" He said, raising the drink he was holding.
Harold was sweating more than anyone else. "Its like being cooked in a giant oven!" He acted like he didn't have aluminum foil on his head. Leshawna sighed, "it might help if you weren't dressed like a giant baked potato." Harold continued sweating, "aluminum foil means the aliens can't reach your brains, it's a real problem in this area!" You rolled your eyes, "pack it up Ron Weasley." This earned a chuckle from a few contestants like Gwen, Duncan, Noah, Heather, Courtney, and even Alejandro. DJ let out a small chuckle too before Leshawna glared at him.
Leshawna looked over at you, "excuse you?" You paused remembering that Leshawna and Harold had some weird relationship going on, and insulting one was insulting both. "Sorry girl, I like your earrings by the way." Leshawna got flash backs to Heather fake complimenting her in season one before she realized you had nothing bad going for you yet so what's the point in immediately thinking you're like Heather.
"It's all good..thanks." She smiled at you before turning back to Harold.
BANG
Chris hit two cymbals together and called the noise satisfying. "Alright! Pyramid Over Under means YOU choose how you'll get to the finish line either over or under the pyramid! Got it? Ready! Set!" Someone cut off Chris again. You already could tell by the voice it was Ezekiel. How the hell did he get here? Wasn't he eliminated!
Ezekiel approached Chris, "wait up guys! Wait up! I told you I wasn't gonna lose this time ay!" You rolled your eyes again, it was becoming a real bad habit to roll your eyes. "Didn't we leave you in like Halifax or white horse or WHATEVER!" Chris was annoyed and a bit confused. Ezekiel smiled, "it's called landing gear homie! I climbed it and hid with the cargo." Chris began smiling again deviously. 😈
"Impressive! Butttt you're still out." Ezekiel continued digging his grave, "no way! I'm in it to win it! Word!" Chris gave up on getting rid of him, "oookay it's your funeral. Set! Go!" He slammed the cymbals in Ezekiel's face which made you giggle, everyone began running towards the pyramid. You paused and turned around, "nice one Chris." Before continuing.
"Care to accompany me Señorita? We can go up together." Alejandro winked at you, gesturing towards the top of the pyramid. Your first thought was to make some mean insult but you remembered that it would be better to get on his good side, "oh..um. I'm okay! It's a bit too hot for me to go over, I'll see you around though!" You smiled at him before running inside the pyramid, your smile immediately dropping once you were out of his sight.
I don't fuck with playboys.
You were next to Leshawna now as you all decided which way to go. There were multiple paths. Heather looked like she was up to something.
"Hey Sierra! Which way do you think we should go?" Sierra looked happy to have someone asking her opinion, "me? Um! Ehhh..um!" You crossed your arms. "We should all split up, I'm going to take the first door." You said walking towards it, you stopped however realizing this was your chance to get on good terms with Heather and Sierra, "care to join me?" They went with you.
It was kind of dark and a bit eerie. "So..Sierra, I know you're on good terms with Cody but how about anyone else?" She smiled and nodded rapidly, "of course I'm on good terms with Cody! He's literally my boyfriend!! But I haven't talked to a lot of other people..." You nodded, a smile creeping up on your face as a plan began forming. Heather noticed.
Sierra was walking in front, Heather behind her, and you in the back. Sierra stepped on a trigger, you realized and immediately pulled Heather down, she grabbed Sierra. "Watch where you step next time," you said lifting them both up. "Oops! Sorry Heather and Y/n!" Heather looked pissed before putting her persona back on, "honest mistake! Could've happened to anybody!"
"Good eye Y/n!" Heather complimented, you smiled. "Couldn't have my friends getting hurt now could I?" You said, hoping this would lead to them becoming close with you. Heather smiled even stronger, you couldn't tell if it was fake or real. Sierra laughed and clapped her hands together. Seems I won't have to put in as much work trying to get Y/n in an alliance with me, Heather thought.
You guys continued walking. Somehow Sierra had caught Cody and was now carrying him, and now you were running in front of Sierra and Heather was running behind Sierra. "Guys, look the exit!" You announced, we all sped up. "I'm so happy we found you, aren't you guys so happy?!" Sierra said referring to Cody. Heather looked annoyed and you honestly didn't care. "Yeah sure whatever," you mumbled. "I'm so happy I could scream," Heather said annoyed.
You all made it past the finish line, you first. "We did it! Group hug! Come on guys!" Sierra said, pushing Cody into her chest. You and Heather rolled your eyes and then looked at each other, you whispered to her. "She's totally obsessed..." Heather nodded in agreement before walking to Sierra, you following behind.
You both fake smiled while hugging, and then Chris cut the hug short. "Thank god," you whispered. Heather heard you and let out a small laugh. "Sierra and Y/n get behind the number two! Heather and Cody you'll be on team three." Harold was about to begin a fact, but you and Chris both said at the same time, "No one cares" which led to Chris once again looking over at you awkwardly.
Why does that keep happening? Chris thought.
"Where's Gwen? Not that I care! Just..curious!" Cody said. You looked up at the pyramid, "she's up there with Gwen and Duncan" you pointed out. They were all arguing. A ding went off as Chris taunted you all, the musical bell. "Recognize that sound? Time for whoever's not finished yet to give us a little musical reprise!" Chris said pointing to all three of them. Duncan looked like he was about to lose it, "you said one song per episode!" Duncan corrected him. Chris smiled, "yeah AND this is a REPRISE not a new song, so if you don't sing you're out! Now let's hear it!" Duncan was done with it, "you know what? No! Nonononono!" Duncan jumped down.
Since all three were tied together, Courtney and Gwen were dragged down. "Three hours of these two squawking on this stupid pyramid in this stupid heat and you want me to sing?! Forget it!" Duncan yelled. Chris raised a brow, "dude you have a contract." Duncan got closer, "eat it McLean, if you need me I'll be in the plane waiting for a ride home cause I'm out!" Duncan pulled out a knife and spun it around before slicing the rope that tied all three of them together.
"Done! I quit!" Duncan walked away and Courtney and Gwen gasped on the floor. Cody took this as an opportunity, "hey looks like we're teammates!" He gave a hand to Gwen.
CONFESSIONAL- CODY
"Girls on the rebound are the best! They cry and then you get to buy them a pop and listen and then..well they still won't go out with you but you get to buy them a pop!"
CONFESSIONAL- CODY; ENDED
Izzy came running out of the pyramid holding a mummy in her hands. You gasped, what the fuck? "Izzy no!" Owen yelled. "Put that mummy down!" You yelled too, putting your hands on your hips. Noah hid behind you, "you're carrying the undead!" All four of you, including Alejandro looked absolutely terrified. "Cool! Bite me and I can be your undead friend like Frankenstein!" Izzy stopped in her tracks and looked at the mummy.
The mummy began growling and moving till it jumped out of her hands. "Thanks for all the help ya knobs!" Ezekiel announced, he was the mummy. "Izzy go join team-" Chris was cut off by Harold, "talata or three." Ezekiel rushed up to Chris, "c'mon guy! After all this you gotta let me back in the game!" Chris hit Ezekiel which made him fall over, you laughed. Chris looked annoyed at Ezekiel.
"Fine but only cause we're down a man thanks to Duncan quit-ie pants. Go ahead and join team one." Ezekiel started celebrating. You were all ready now. "Okay teams talk amongst yourselves and determine a team name, you have three minutes while I enjoy this ice cream cone."
Team one- "Team Victory!"
Team three- "Team Amazon!"
And now you and the rest of team two were trying to figure out a name, everyone talking over each other. Once they were quiet you suggested the name Team Jewel, to which everyone except Sierra had agreed. Alejandro spoke up to Chris, "We decided on the name-" and then Sierra yelled out the name Team Chris is Really Really Really Really hot, interrupting Alejandro. You sighed in disappointment as Chris thought that name was awesome. "And here are your rewards!" Alejandro glared at Sierra but then realized it would earn favoritism.
"Team Amazon you win a camel! Team Chris is really really really really really really hot!" Alejandro interrupted him, "I think there were only FOUR really's." You nodded in agreement. "You win a goat!" Chris threw a goat at Tyler which made him fall over. "And team victory..here ya go!" Chris said while holding a stick. Leshawna looked unimpressed, "so the guys who come in last get a camel and we get a stick?"
Chris reassured them that each team has their own advantages and then began his outro.
"I'm glad to be on a team with you Señorita." Alejandro said to you, kissing your hand.
—
CONFESSIONAL- Y/N
"This guy honestly thinks he can woo me? Please! I'd rather kill myself than let myself fall charm to his victim...wait no! Victim to his charm. How did I mess that up?" You sighed, face palming.
"Anyways...our team sucks."
CONFESSIONAL- Y/N; ENDED
—
"Oh..I wish I could say the same, Corazón." You flirted back but also played hard to get, pulling your hand away. It was hot as fuck and he radiated warmth.
—
CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO
"It's only a matter of time before they all become puppets to me. However I wasn't expecting Y/n to know any Spanish." He shrugged.
CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO; ENDED
—
This was NOT proofread
I'm kinda disappointed in myself these two chapters are lowkey kinda boring, Y/n has little to no personality. I'll fix that next chapter.
Next chapter already out!! 🙏
⬇️
#character x reader#tdwt#character x you#fanfic#fanfiction#td alejandro#td courtney#td duncan#td heather#td noah#tdwt noah#yandere various#yandere x reader#yandere#x reader#various x reader#part two#total drama world tour#total drama
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Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 13
Chapter 12 here.
Sammy hesitates before getting into the car. Is she allowed to sit up front?
“What are you doing, Sam? Are you just going to stand there all day? Or you going to come to movie night? Sit up here with me!” Alyssa points to the front seat.
“Thanks Allie, I wasn’t sure if I was allowed.”
“Tonight’s not the night to worry about that, okay? I told you, tonight isn’t the night to worry about this morning, or the future, or anything. Tonight is to just have fun.”
Fifteen minutes later, Alyssa and Sammy walk into Alyssa’s parents house. “Hey guys,” Alyssa yells, “wow, something smells real good!”
“Hi honey,” Alyssa’s mom, Carol answers, “your dad couldn’t help himself, like always. He went crazy in the kitchen. Looks like there was an explosion in the kitchen. How are you Sammy, dear?”
“I’m going great, Carol!” Sammy says, giving her a hug.
“I’m so glad to hear it! Linds should be coming down any minute. She decided to take a shower a few minutes ago. Why she can never do it early, I’ll never understand.”
Sammy laughs, “I think I spent more time waiting for her than I ever did studying.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me!” Alyssa’s dad, Henry boomed, “how are you Sammy? You thirsty? We got your favorite Diet Coke, just for you!”
“I’d love one!”
Henry brings Sammy a cold can of Diet Coke as everyone goes into the family room, finding spots on the couch.
“Henry dear, can we skip football for just one day?” Carol insisted.
“Sure thing, that’s why I got YoutubeTV on my phone, so I can watch my game while you girls watch whatever it is you girls watch,” Henry chuckled.
“Hi Sam!” Lindsay screamed running down the stairs, “you ready for movie night?”
“You know it!” Sammy responded.
“Well I thought it was movie night, girls. Night being the key word,” Henry quipped, “but it doesn’t look like night to me, its barely dusk. I haven’t destroyed Mom’s kitchen all afternoon to not serve my girls dinner!”
“I am hungry,” Alyssa said, “and the day I turn down a meal from Dad is the day I die!”
As they walked to the dinner table, Sammy saw that Henry wasn’t joking about cooking all day. This made Thanksgiving day meals look tiny in comparison.
“I couldn’t decide what to make,” Henry joked, “so I didn’t decide. I just made all of it”
“Come sit by me, Sam. I want to talk to you!” Lindsay demanded.
For the next hour, Sammy and Lindsay were lost in conversation at they ate dinner. Gossiping about boys, talking about their favorite shows, and wondering if their nerdy math teacher would ever make a move on Ms. Green, the science teacher.
Alyssa watched Sammy, taking it all in. This is exactly what she hoped for. Sammy had completely forgot about this morning, engrossed in conversation with Lindsay. At least for tonight, Sammy could just be Sam. Though Sammy was flying through those Diet Cokes. Alyssa hoped that the two stuffers she secretly added to Sammy’s diaper would hold up. The last thing she wanted to do was remind Sammy about that.
With dinner finished, everyone shifted to the family room to watch the featured presentation, Mean Girls. Unsurprisingly, Henry told everyone that he’s clear the dishes. But the sound of the football announcer’s could just be heard.
“Mean Girls was the perfect choice, Linds.” Sammy said, sitting next to Lindsay, “you’re right, Tina Fey is definitely a comedic genius.”
Sammy and Lindsay continued to chatter throughout the first hour of the movie. Carol laughed, wondering how the girls were barely paying attention, but still managed to quote every line of the movie as they happened.
Lindsay watched as Sam’s eyes grew heavy, cuddling up next to her. She could tell Sam was definitely struggling to stay awake. But, at the same time, she felt a wave of love for Sam as she tried to stay awake. She, like everyone else—but Sammy—knew what this night meant. Knew that this was the last time she’d ever watch Mean Girls with Sam.
“Come cuddle up with me, Sam,” Lindsay said, pulling Sam against her.
Sam looked up at her, smiling. Tired, but content. “Thanks, Linds, this is super comfortable.”
Lindsay looked down at Sam as her eyes grew heavier and heavier, running her fingers through her hair. Sam was grinning as she fell asleep.
Lindsay looked over at Alyssa, eyes full of tears. “Do you think she had fun tonight, Allie?”
“I know she did, Linds,” she responded, sniffling as she fought back tears, “thank you for this. I know she’ll always appreciate you being there for her tonight. I know everything’s gonna be changing soon.”
“When can I came see her next?”
“Give her a few days to adjust. I know she’ll be happy to see you, but the next few days will be a big transition for her. We’re going to Littles’R’Us tomorrow to get her crib, changing table, car seat, diapers, and clothes. She’s going to be very emotional as everything changes. I want her to be a used to her knew routine before anyone else sees her.”
“I understand Allie. It’s going to be hard for me too, if you can believe it. But I know it’s going to be way harder for her.”
Lindsay continues to stroke Sammy’s hair as they continue to watch the movie.
Not long after, Lindsay wrinkles her nose. “Allie, I think its time to be a Caregiver…”
Alyssa laughs as the smell hits her nose too. I think you’re right. She gently picks Sammy up, trying not to wake her as she lays her down on the floor to change her diaper, glad Sammy slept through the whole thing.
Go to Chapter Fourteen.
#ab/dl babygirl#ab/dl community#ab/dl fiction#ab/dl lifestyle#cg/l#cg/l community#cg/l little#diaper captions#diaper community#sammyslittleproblem#little space community#cg/l lifestyle#little space
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How do you feel Hunter would react to Luz's inner circle expanding post Raine-Reveal. On one hand Luz is far safer with three of the strongest witches on the isles looking out for her, on the other (in his eyes) he is significantly less useful than three coven heads and may feel his position is threatened.
(about princess/empress luz AU)
man this has me thinking SO MUCH. i've been pondering this for about a half hour while napping
i do think that hunter's biggest feeling - particularly at the beginning - would just be Relief. it's SUCH a relief to have other people who know the truth, and it's a relief to be able to talk to anybody else about his worries when he's worried about luz, and it's a relief to know that if luz manifests a latent curse then hunter has people he can call for help.
but AFTER that. hoo boy
okay so. my main thought is. the thing about luz being crazier than hunter in this AU is, like. like.... that's worked REALLY WELL for them so far. inasmuch as very anxious codependence can.
and the Reason it's worked so well for them is because luz's flavor of crazy enables hunter to mask his own worries/insecurities/fears/insanity.
luz gets scared that she's dragging hunter down by being so anxious and clingy and neurotic and needy. she doesn't necessarily need him to DO anything for her, but she gets anxious when he's not nearby.
i started drafting more of the mindscape oneshot - again, no promises i'll complete it - but there's a moment where darius says in amazement to inner!luz, "you don't even remember he's alive when you can't see him, do you?"
and that's. a whole vibe. like luz knows LOGICALLY that hunter is alive and well when she can't see him, but she has Not yet processed the grief terror pain etc that she went thru. so she is still on edge all the time
this works out well for hunter because he really likes being around luz, and he likes feeling useful, and also 98% of his identity is wrapped up in being useful to luz. like the two of them are making it work as well as they can, and they're Incredibly sweet, but like. it takes a special flavor of mental illness to not only enjoy being in hunter's position but to also Legitimately Want That More Than Anything.
canon hunter's abandonment issues are visible from Space. his relationship with belos is different in this AU, so there's less of the constant "i'm gonna replace you :)" terrorism. but this AU's hunter has absolutely taken all of canon hunter's loyalty and need for approval and desire to be Good & directed it more toward luz.
hunter has already spent a good chunk of time prior to belos's death being So So So Fucking Anxious And Upset over luz abandoning him. but he's mostly rationalized and explained those feelings with (admittedly very rational) worries ABOUT her. like, he's scared that luz is hurt, that means it's not weird to have panic attacks over the concept of her leaving him!!
all of this background is to say.... i don't think that hunter would feel that he's being fully replaced or that he's obsolete. (if AMITY was a factor he almost certainly would, but that's a whole separate post.)
BUT.
i think that he would be Terrified of luz deciding that she doesn't need him anymore.
bc he is just as anxious about her being near him as she is about him being near her. he just doesn't usually have to express that.
and Also i think that he would not understand this feeling at all. or where it comes from. or what he wants. or how to fix it.
at best i think he'd be like "oh, i am possessive and toxic for no reason. this is my curse as a man probably. or something. better repress THAT as much as possible"
as for how this would manifest externally.... i think it depends on the circumstances. i feel like luz would be able to clock that something's wrong before anything really wild or terrible happened.
but i'm REALLY enjoying the thought of like. borderline eclipse lake hunter vibes. except slightly more put-together. hunter is like wow.... it's so cool how luz is talking to people who aren't me and making plans with people who aren't me and getting everything she could ever want from people who aren't me and she's going to forget about me and then my life will be over and i'll have to dig my own grave :) time to overcompensate wildly by trying to be More Useful Than Usual :)
DON'T GET ME WRONG THO i really don't think it would last super long. luz (or darius or raine) would be like hey. hey. hunter. hey hunter. hey, hunter?
what the fuck are you doing.
and the whole thing would unravel pretty quick.
but wow the boy Sure Is Neurotic. for the whole, like, ten minutes before it unravels.
#replies#long post#i havent reread this sorry. i know i'm rambling it's because this also deserves a oneshot#so i'm just telling u all the background and emotional arcs instead.#toh#princess luz au#horrible mindscape trauma pals#hunter toh#luz noceda
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Thankful 2
Jax's POV
Amber and I found ourselves at her parents' old house. She never sold the place after they passed away years ago. Her heart couldn't bear to part with it, which, as it turns out, was a blessing in disguise for us. In times when the club was on lockdown, it served as a safe haven for her. In recent years, it also became a great hiding spot for the kids' Christmas or birthday gifts. We sat in the middle of the living room, examining two large boxes – one was Mary's dollhouse, and the other was Thomas' little orange motorcycle that resembled the old orange Harleys. I know what you must be thinking: it must be nice being a badass biker; surely you have connections to get your kids the best stuff, or you probably stole it, but truth be told, both were purchased during a fantastic Black Friday sale.
"You know, I was going to wrap these boxes," she said, gazing at the gifts and then at me. "But you know they won't have the patience on Christmas morning to wait for us to put everything together..."
"So, put them together and slap on a huge bow," I suggested with a shrug.
"Yup," Amber laughed.
"This reminds me of the time I learned the truth about Santa," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I was just six years old, and my excitement was through the roof. On Christmas Eve, I had a master plan to catch Santa in the act of delivering presents, but little did I know, I'd catch somethin' else."
"Your dad?" Amber asked.
"He was still around, but that night, he was with the club. I had this feeling that something interesting was happening when I heard my mom, Gemma, whispering on the phone with someone in the living room. My curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to investigate. I tiptoed down the stairs, determined to uncover the secret. And there she was, my mom, surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, tape, toys, and, of course, half a bottle of booze and half a pack of smokes. She was a mess.
"On Christmas Eve? She hadn't done any of the wrapping yet?" Amber pried.
"Nope. My guess was my old man was supposed to help but got called in to deal with club business. I crept down to get a better look, hiding out behind the couch."
"I can't believe I waited until the last minute to wrap these presents," Gemma sighed, taking a swig from the wine bottle.
I couldn't resist revealing myself at this point. I jumped out from behind the couch and exclaimed, "Merry Christmas!"
Mom nearly jumped out of her skin and swung the bottle at my head, not knowing it was me. Luckily, she missed, or we woulda been spendin' Chrismats at St. Thomas Hospital. She turned around, and her eyes went wide when she saw me standing there in my Transformers PJs.
"Well, you caught me, you little shit. I am Santa's little helper tonight; turns out he got tied up somewhere over Mexico."
"I remember asking her if that's who she was on the phone with, trying to keep the magic alive, but I pretty much had it figured out then. So, we spent the next few hours wrapping presents together.
"Wow. That's crazy," Amber said with wide eyes, pushing aside some old junk that had accumulated over the years. "Oh! Here's another reason I like coming to wrap the kids' gifts every year. This, after all these years, is still one of the best gifts you got me." Amber smiled, looking at the clay paw prints of her dogs, Alice and Spike.
She handed it to me, and I ran my finger over the clay piece. "I still wonder how you got Alice and Spike to cooperate," Amber said, smiling at me.
"Getting them to cooperate wasn't the problem; making sure you were out of the house so I could come over was," I laughed, reminiscing.
"Wait a minute, is that why, at the time, Donna was so adamant about us getting our nails done after shopping, so you had enough time?"
"You got it," I laughed, looking at my wife.
Years Ago:
"Okay, you can come over; Donna just left," Kim informed me over the phone.
"Okay, good. I'll be right over. Thanks, Kim, for letting me come over to do this," I replied.
As I hung up the phone, a sense of anticipation surged within me. It was a special project that Amber and I had been secretly planning for a while. With a heart full of excitement, I hurried to Amber's place, my loyal canine companions, Alice and Spike, trailing behind me, their tails wagging in delight.
Upon arriving, I found Amber waiting with an enthusiastic smile. "Jax, she's going to love it; this was a great idea," she exclaimed. We gathered the necessary supplies, including a lump of damp clay, and went outside, where both dogs happily joined us.
With great care, I began working with the clay. I started by pressing Alice's paw into the damp substance, and she responded with an obedient wag of her tail. "Good girl, Alice," I laughed, rewarding her with a treat for her cooperation.
Spike was next, and he was equally well-behaved. "Good boy, buddy," I smiled, giving him a treat as well. Afterward, I meticulously wrote their names beside the imprints, ensuring the keepsake would be complete.
Amber looked at the affectionate interaction between us and laughed softly. "I can't believe you still have this," she said, taking notice of a worn, stuffed dog with a missing eye and a dirty appearance.
Amber reminisced, smiling at old memories that played out in her head. "Oh, if my mom had her way, I would have," she chuckled, referring to the very first gift I ever gave her back in middle school.
I gently teased her, saying, "Amber, honey, it's time. It only has one eye, it's dirty, and you can't even tell it's a dog, honey..."
But Amber's response was unwavering. "No, Mom, it was the first Christmas gift Teller ever gave me. I'll never get rid of it," she declared, hugging the old stuffed dog to her chest, a radiant smile on her face.
Her mother chuckled and tried to persuade her. "Amber, honey..."
But Amber cut her off. "No, Mom, I'm not doing it."
Tears welled up in her eyes as the memories and emotions overwhelmed her. I comforted her, reaching over to wipe her tears away gently. "Amber, sweetheart, it's okay," I reassured her.
"I'm sorry," she chuckled, reluctantly placing the old stuffed dog back in its box.
I moved closer to her, putting my arm around her. "Hey, you never have to say sorry about missing your parents," I whispered. She rested her head on my shoulder, finding solace in my presence.
"I miss them, Teller, a lot… like I always say, since the kids were born, they're missing so much."
"I know," I whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Amber's POV:
As the late evening descended, with the kids all snug in their beds, Jax and I wound up on the patio, savoring a moment of togetherness.
As we passed a joint between us, I began to open up. "You know," I started, handing the joint back to my husband, "I haven't had any of those dreams yet... you know, where all of this is just a dream, and I'm actually in New York, still alone."
He nodded, taking a hit and exhaling slowly. "I don't think I ever told you this part," I continued, a playful giggle escaping my lips. "That the one you were married to…"
A mischievous spark danced in his eyes as he teased, "No, don't tell me I was married to Ima," taking another drag from the joint.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "You sure were."
Jax couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of that idea. "That's a nightmare, not a bad dream," he remarked, snuffing out the joint before discreetly placing it under a potted plant to hide it.
With a smirk, he gently teased me, "Come on, darlin', let's get you to bed," and playfully rolled me back into the house, leaving the memories of those dreams behind for the night.
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Shakey Sundays #10:
Living With War
(Rest assured Fair Reader, we'll get to this photo and its relationship with the album in question in good time; for now let's just wonder if Neil, on the right, is wearing blush or if he's blushing because he's just been seen associating with Stephen the Hutt, on the left. Again, we'll get there in good time! Now, on with the post...)
The teenagers I teach, who are all pretty awesome, arrive knowing almost nothing about modern events. Wait, they say, there was a war in Iraq? Are we talking about, like, recently? Were we alive? Wow. Dude, what'd you say? There were like two wars in Iraq? Were we in them? Iraq's a country, right? Who won?
Well, kids, no one won. But hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives. And millions are still suffering from the effects of the conflicts. And Iraq is, like totally, a country.
The teens come alive when you start to get into the details; I'm proud to stay pretty damn nonpartisan in the classroom but there's no way to teach these events without telling students the truth: the Bush administration lied. And I don't mean once. They lied over and over again for years. WMDs; links between Iraq and 9/11; government directed torture; death counts. And our country went along for the ride; we were so shell shocked by 9/11 that we, like totally, like literally, believed Iraq=Muslim + Saddam=Bad Guy therefore, War=Now.
Well not all of us bought it. I'm a very proud American and I did my patriotic duty by angrily protesting the Second Gulf War. I'm guessing many of you did too.
And when Neil Young woke up after years of shaggy dog Greendale story telling and Prairie Wind flatulence to rage against his adopted country's moral corruption, I felt relieved, proud and in sync with his anger.
Indeed, I'd argue that Living With War is a pretty cool chapter in Young's story. Not only was he right when he called us all out for being lazy and dumb, he also rehired his kick in the ass band from Eldorado and recorded everything with Ohio-level pace and boldness, writing and recording the album in less than two weeks and getting it out and into our ears within a month.
And just listen to the opening track! Young finds his riff on Old Black, nods at his six-cups-of-coffee drummer and then sounds immediately and deeply alive, shaking himself and all of us out of our Bush beer garden of complacency.
youtube
Cool, huh? It's almost 20 years later and George W. Bush's brand of homespun, ignorant evil appears quaint in comparison to the nonstop barrage of totalitarian terror being spouted on the campaign trail in and in the courts (seriously, if frozen embryos are now human beings why aren't refugees being welcomed with open arms and being offered all the jobs Americans like you and me rely on but refuse to do ourselves?) but I still feel pumped up when I listen to this song.
So why isn't the record a bigger deal? Why doesn't it shoulder its way into our thinking not just about Young but about that whole embarrassing era in our history? I'm afraid there are a few pretty good reasons why.
For one thing a lot of the writing sucks. In the earnest and almost soulful Roger and Out Young rhymes no words in the first verse, then decides to go big and connect "way" with "today" in the second verse, then shrugs and sets "today" alongside "yesterday" after that. This is coming from the guy who once wrote "roads stretch out like healthy veins, and wild gift horses strain the reigns." Come on Neil, confer with a dictionary.
One spot where the lyrics come alive in the upsetting and enjoyably silly The Restless Consumer. Check this frantic song out:
youtube
You can hear in the song that Young assembled a 100 person choir for this record and spent one 12 hour day teaching them to sing along with his best crazy grandpa voice on lines like:
Don't need no TV ad
Telling me how sick I am
Don't need to know how many people are like me
Don't need no dizziness
Don't need no nausea
Don't need no side effects like diarrhea or sexual death
Roger that, Neil. When I see you live in April with the Horse (yes, I've got tickets, gods be praised) I promise I won't scream out from my cheap seats in the back about any of these topics you mention. But I will scream. Lots.
Another shortcoming on the record is Neil's unwillingness, or inability at that moment, to destroy and thereby uplift the songs with his own lead guitar.
Stroll through his wacky eclectic career and there are nearly no constants: one moment he's making violent computerized pop, the next he's impersonating Willie Nelson. By 2006 he had 40 years of proudly obstinate inconsistency under his belt. But Neil, at least when making band-oriented music, had - almost - always used a rhythm guitar player.
First there was Richie Furray and He Who Shall Not Be Named because he sucks.
(But that guitarist does appear, as we noted at the top, in today's opening photo from the Living with War era. You see, that's not Pizza the Hut standing with Neil in the image; it's You Know Who, or maybe we should call him You No Poo; Neil had a tour planned with Crosby, Satan and Nash long before he wrote and rushed out Living With War; then he foisted the record on them for their summer tour together; Stills was unimpressed by it all and complained a lot, probably because he'd voted for Bush in the first place and knew that the only people who still bought his records were dumb asses who'd followed his lead in the voting booth.)
Then along came Danny, Nils, Ben, and Poncho (and even Steve Cropper and the kids in Pearl Jam and Promise of the Reeled in Flounder). Occasionally, such as on Comes a Time and Old Ways, Neil used not one rhythm guitarist, but instead about 16 of them. He idolizes Hendrix but rarely tries to be him.
Living With War is, like the killer Eldorado, the snoozy Greendale and the confounding Le Noise that would soon follow, one of Neil's rare solo guitar attack moments. And, on this occasion anyway, it's a mistake.
Neil heard the album's basic tracks after his rushed and passionate recording session (he'd later release those first takes on their own as Living With War - In the Beginning) and knew there simply wasn't quite enough music to go around. He'd been too busy teaching the songs to the drummer, bass player and himself to remember to shred.
He could have summoned Poncho and given the whole project another week. He should have. Instead, he got all Bernard Shakey on us and brought in not just the 100 piece choir, who must have spent their 12 hour session alternatively inspired, snickering and baffled, but also a trumpeter. And we're not talking about Miles Davis and Don Cherry here.
Instead, it sounds like Neil stopped by the local high school, plucked the third chair from the marching band, then played slow enough to let him try, and fail, to keep up. Take a listen.
youtube
Even the choir and drunk trumpet weren't enough to entirely salvage such songs. You'll hear in the video above that Neil also brings back Re-ac-tor era space warfare sound effects and mixes in sound-clips of the Dubbya himself. This whole song and, for that matter, the whole album, is silly, inspired, simplistic, drunk and awesome all at once.
Sound like all the ingredients we need for another Shakey Sunday.
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Mother's Here CH. 4
(This chapter takes place a few months after Watching and Dreaming)
Camilla was sleeping after her last work day of the week. She covered for some sick co-workers who got better shortly afterwards, so her boss gave her a 3 day weekend. She then started to hear weird cracking noises, but she didn't think much of it. Until a bolt of lightning struck the tree right outside her house.
Camilla: DIOS MIO!
She then got up to check up on her kids. She didn't like the idea that they would be scared, so she wanted to check on them. When she got to the stairs, she saw her kids, Luz Vee and Hunter, had all gotten up to check on her.
They embraced each other, glad that the others were safe and sound.
Hunter: Hey, I'd take that over boiling rain any day.
Vee: I second that.
Camilla: Wait, boiling rain?
Luz: Yep, from the boiling ocean. Not sure why it boils, but it does.
Camilla: How did you survive there?
Luz: I'm your daughter. You'd be shocked what a Noceda can do with some hope and a little bit of light magic.
Camilla: Well, you don't have to worry about that here. I'm just glad my babies are safe.
Vee: And we're happy you are safe too.
Hunter: You know, the boiling isles isn't as scary when you've been there for a while. I only remember you going there to fight Belos with us. Maybe you could come by some time.
Camilla: Yeah, it's Thursday night, I already put in my 40 hours, I could totally go there. Tell you what, let's do a day trip tommorrow, just the 4 of us.
Hunter: Cool, I could introduce you to Darius. He'd be interested in your sewing machine, since he sews in his spare time.
Vee: I'll have to be home in time to prepare for my date with Masha, but sure.
They then heard knocking on the door. Camilla opened it to see Amity, absolutely drenched and looking worried beyond beleif.
Amity: I sensed Luz was scared. Is she okay.
Luz: Mi vida! I'm fine, but are you okay, you look like you booked it all the way from the isles.
Amity: Don't worry Luz, I'll be fine.
(The next day)
Amity: Aaaaachoo!
Vee: Bless you.
Amity spent the night at the Noceda household, as Camilla didn't like the idea of Amity going out in the rain again. She wound up catching the cold, and the Noceda family carried her to the isles to get her proper doctors. Luz explained that she got the Boiling Isles mold and she was fine afterwards, so maybe Amity would be fine after a day or two.
They opened the door to Blight manor, seeing Emira on her scroll calling people with worry in her voice. After hanging up, she looked at the door and saw Amity, whom she tackle hugged.
Emira: AMITY! Are you okay? We didn't see you this morning and saw your window was open, so we wondered what happened.
After Alador, Darius, and Edric met up with the group, Amity explained the situation.
Alador: Wow, on one hand, please don't do that again, but good on you for being there for Luz.
Darius: Have fun on your day together Noceda family.
Luz: Are you sure you don't need me to help with Amity?
Alador: We don't want to impose on your plans. Also, this is an opertunity for me to step up as a father for once.
Amity: I am so sorry for the inconvienience!
Camilla: Don't be, we're here to help.
Their first stop was the owl house. Camilla only got to be there a couple of times when she helped her kids out during the fight agains Belos, so she was glad to meet up and properly introduce herself to the Clawthornes. After the Day Of Unity events, Lilith and Gwen moved in with Eda. Raine and Eda had just gotten engaged the previous month.
Gwen: So you're Luz's mom. I'm Eda's mom, Gwen.
Camilla: Glad to meet you. I've heard of some of the crazy stuff that happened on the isles.
Lilith: Then I take it you've heard of my……shenanigans.
Camilla: Normally I'd break your spine for trying to impale my daughter, but given the circumstances you were in plus the genuine remorse you feel, I'll let it slide.
Raine: Your daughter is a delight. Seriously, she got Ms. "Who needs therapy when I have apple blood" to open up and heal.
Eda: Yeah, ever since I met her, I've been less of a drinker, I've been in a better mood, and I got back together with the love of my life.
Camilla: Well Luz does that to people. Say Gwen, what did you think I was like before we officially met?
Gwen: I figured you would be a lot like your daughter, and it appears I was right. Though I did owe Eda and Raine a bit of an apology after I was introduced to her.
Eda: I told Raine about that incident.
Raine: Yeah, that was so akward.
Luz: What did you ask Eda?
Gwen: I, may or may not, have thought before our introduction that you were Raine and Eda's kid.
Eda and Raine silightly blushed at that, as they mentioned wanting kids one day but had to think about it a bit more. Camilla and Luz went wide eyed at that revelation. And then Camilla just started laughing.
Camilla: I don't blame you! You two are so alike!
Lilith: Yeah, Luz is so much like Eda. Here's hoping she gets a better future though.
Eda: Eh, given where I am now, I would go through that again if I had to.
Camilla: So, where do you think is the best spot for a visit? My 3 day weekend only lasts so long.
Eda: I'd recommend the beastkeeping sanctuary.
Raine: I think the bard music building woudl be wonderful.
Lilith: Pop by the museam!
Camilla: Okay, why not?
#luz noceda#the owl house#toh#amity blight#lumity#luz x amity#disney#camilla noceda#alador blight#edric blight#toh edric#emira blight#toh emira#raine whispers#gwendolyn clawthorne#lilith clawthorne
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In response to your questions about the timelapse videos, here are my two cents. Engagement doesn’t usually give you anything on tumblr other than a bump of serotonin, but it can lead to commissions or sales if you provide an easy link and are chill about it. But people are touchy about the word “engagement.” They want to feel like a community or maybe a cultural salon, rather than part of an extractive media process.
Your most successful process videos are going to show a satisfying finished piece at the end and give people time to look at it and go “wow.” So for most art some editing will be necessary to get there in a short video.
Another thing I should bring up is that the music you used for that sketch video was pretty grating. If you’re going to use music, i’d suggest finding something more relaxing. Just because the video is sped up doesn’t mean the sound has to be frantic.
Your painting process is so interesting, and your art is great! People here love cats with all their hearts and mostly really enjoy art. I wish you all the best!
Hi anon, thank you so much for your input! I really appreciate it, and I'm still getting used to actually getting responses, after trying to get it noticed for 10+ years (this isn't my first tumblr blog).
There's a lot going on with trying to share my art in the current internet ecosystem, probably something a lot of artists are dealing with. I'll try my best to describe what's going on on my end.
I don't like the term engagement either. I am trying to share my art through four main platforms at this time: Instagram, Tiktok, YouTube, and of course our precious hellsite: Tumblr. So my use of the term is more from the vernacular being used on other platforms, with what seems to be a kind of agreed upon use by artists of "this is what we have to deal with, so might as well lean into it." Maybe I'm mis-interpreting that (not surprising).
So far, Instagram is where I get my art noticed the most and has lead to the most sales/commissions/financial support. I think this has to do with the cat community that has formed over there. Tumblr definitely has its cat lovers, but I think a lot of them are over on IG so that they can follow internet cat celebrities and the like (I'm one of them!). So things like engagement and trends will dictate how I share my art with at least algorithm-led platforms. Also all of the cat people and friends I've met at shows regularly have Instagrams, not that that's a reason to be on there.
I agree that I should add time of the video at the end to show the piece to give it time to be seen. This can be easily accomplished if I make sure to take a photo of the art and include it in the video. I haven't had the best record of doing this due to my own ADHD and the pace at which these sketch paintings are being made.
Most of these recent sketch paintings were made back in August during CatCon on the spot! It's a crazy thing to do and I haven't seen anyone else do something quite what I'm doing, which is I guess part of my marketing for conventions and shows. So, sometimes I forget to take a picture at the end, but I'm getting better at including it in my process. And yes I call them sketches because they're fairly quick (I aim for 30 minutes for a 6"x6") and I don't get to add all the details I would like to if time was available. (I'm currently working on a new 3"x3" fully detailed piece of a famous internet cat, I've spent an hour and a half on it, and it's not done yet!)
Part of the timelapse question is not just to see what people prefer to determine how much time I should put into editing, but also how much effort I should put into digital storage. I have a couple different ways of recording footage, and the main way I've been doing so is with my iPhone. And so when I'm at events that I fly to, like CatCon, sometimes I'm having to transfer videos from my phone to an SD card until I can get home and get the footage onto a larger storage device. This can be tricky especially if I don't make sure to clear my phone storage before going to an event (something I'm adding to my list!) However, if I use the timelapse feature already available on the iPhone, then that makes editing and storage even easier for me later. I used this a lot with my Black Cat October series. But this timelapse footage doesn't look as good (maybe) and I don't have the option to do other edits later. Which then comes to the question for myself, am I really going to go back and make another edit for these sketch paintings? Perhaps the answer is timelapses for sketches, and full videos for fully detailed paintings.
And thank you for your input on the music part! The reason for the music in the last video was because of what's trending right now. Sometimes IG will save a copy of the video I posted with whatever music, so I had reused it in today's post. I think I'll make sure to use something more soothing/calming going forward just for tumblr, because you all have a special place in my heart.
Usually I'll open TikTok and do a separate video save to have a hi-res copy with music, but since I had recently created a shop on TT I only have commercially available music. Maybe I should take the shop down anyways, I'm really not sure if it'll help my art get notice or sell more stickers. I'd rather manage sales from my website anyways, but I feel like I should at least give it a try. You're welcome to tell me your thoughts on that!
I could go more into detail about my process for just uploading videos, but I feel like this is already getting TLDR. So feel free to let me know if you want me to ramble some more! I'd love to get input on that, as well as get an idea of what other artists are doing since I have no idea what I'm doing!
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HELLO my angel ❤️ how are you this fine evening?
first of all, i met up with my ex friend and it went rlly well!! we spent two hours just catching up about the past 4 years 🥹 however things felt a bit awkward towards the end when we talked a bit more about why we fell apart, however we both agreed how necessary it was ‼️ im just so happy that things cleared up a bit and im hoping we can at least be good friends 🙏❤️
seconddddd, i was reading your response and omg theres no way its been about a year since i started to actively interact with you 😭 ive been here much longer, but omg time flies 🥹 im so beyond grateful for you, you are the human equivalent of a warm hug on a cold day, i truly love you and am so proud of how much youve grown as a writer and person 🙏 #1 fan until the day i die ❤️
i cant wait to spend another year with you and the different universes you have created 🥹❤️
- wife from war anon 💂♀️
MY WONDERFUL BABY, HI!!! i've been exhausted and struggling, but gonna wind down a bit since winter break started and yeah!! have you been okayyy?
very glad to hear things went well with your friend!! i know it can be a lil uncomfortable at first, but i think if you guys give yourself a bit more time, things will (hopefully) shift into place. no matter what, i just hope you're happy <3
and yeah… a year it's crazy 🥺 and babe… i think i needed to hear this bc wow 🤧 what if i cry?? 😭 thank you for saying that. i feel so freaking warm whenever you send a message… like idk how i deserved this, but i adore you so much and hope you stay for a long, long time, so i can keep giving you virtual and metaphoric warm hugs 🥺 love love love you <333
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Scars and Skates Pt. 13.5
prev || masterlist || next
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Genre: angst, social media au, fluff
TW: none
Word Count: 1.1k i think
An: I’m so sooo sorry i just went MIA. This is actually all i had written for the next chapter and life just got in the way, I now have a puppy to look after, one that thinks leaves are a great meal and to top it all off I finally got covid haha, Im fine both physically and mentally just feels like a really strong bad cold.
Taglist: @reallyloudstarlight @nattisbored @hugs4chan @teti-menchon0604 @qghosty @skz-enhypen @planetdemon
~~~~~
You woke, hearing a clatter from the kitchen, whispered swearing echoed through your door that was slightly open, you groaned and turned over, getting tangled in the blanket that you had laid over you, looking at it for a few seconds trying to remember if you’d pulled it over yourself before you fell asleep. You sat up and crawled out of bed, grabbing the phone off the table next to your bed, looking at it in your hand as you couldn’t remember putting it there last night and wandering out into the living room.
“Finally.” Said Felix who was sitting at the kitchen island, coffee in front of him as he flicked through his phone.
“Shut up.” You yawned, smiling to Chris as he slid a cup of coffee towards you.
“Did you both sleep well?”
Felix nodded and looked between you and Chris, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the vibe you were both giving off.
“Yeah, I did.” Chris mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly as he sat next to you and took a sip of coffee.
“We better get going soon.” You said, finishing your coffee rather quickly and glancing at Chris as you rinsed your cup. “I’m going to get changed.”
You walked into your bedroom and pulled out a new pair of tights, pulling them on and grabbing a hoodie to shove on at the rink, you walked out seeing both of the boys had their bags, Chris holding yours as you smiled and shoved your shoes on. Again you all decided that an Uber would be better than the bus this early in the morning, you all piled into the back seat, or at least you tried, Chris giving up and jumping into the front seat.
“Ok, what happened between you two last night?” Felix whispered in your ear, you turned to look at him as the smirk on his face grew slightly, his eyebrows wiggling as you burst out laughing.
“Nothing, we just spent a little time together after you fell asleep.” You smiled, fiddling with your fingers as Felix jabbed his elbow into your side.
“Uh huh.”
You leant closer to him and whispered. “We shared a hug, that’s all.”
“Wow, scandalous.” Felix said as Chris turned, looking at you both.
“I swear you are both going to drive me crazy.” He sighed, turning back around and shoving his earphones in.
You thanked the Uber and got out, wandering into the rink and making your way through the foyer, looking out over the ice and sighing in relief as there was no sign of Seojin, yet.
You’d all decided to take turns out on the ice, allowing you to all go through your programs in full before your next group lesson in a few days.
A few hours had passed and you were all sitting on the bench taking a break, the high pitched voice breaking the calm silence that you had all enjoyed the whole morning.
“Channie, you were supposed to skate with me!” Seojin whined as she walked down the stairs, stopping as another voice boomed out behind her.
“This is a closed practice, I told you yesterday.” Said the hockey coach as he walked through the doors, several members of the hockey team following behind him.
“I’m here with them!” Seojin said, pointing to the three of you.
The coach looked at you, watching as you shook your head slightly. “I only have three names on the sheet.”
You held your laugh, there was no sheet, you knew this and so did the hockey coach, the hockey members smirking and giggling as Seojin started turning bright pink.
“Well when am I meant to skate then?!” She shrieked, glaring at you as you turned away and started untying your skates.
“That’s something you need to sort out.” He said, turning away and ushering the team down the stairs.
“Sheet?” Chris whispered as he started taking his skates off. “What sheet?”
You snorted and looked at him. “There is no sheet.”
“Channie! Let’s get coffee today!” Seojin said, crossing her arms and looking down at him.
You turned and looked up at her hearing Chris groan and stand up.
“I already had coffee at Y/N’s this morning.” He said, shrugging and grabbing his bag.
“You slept with her?!” Seojin yelled, trudging down the stairs towards you as you stood up and backed away, Felix getting up and pulling you behind him as she tried to reach for you.
“ENOUGH! You!” The hockey coach roared, pointing towards Seojin and walking towards her. “OUT. NOW.”
Chris’ fingers intertwined with yours behind Felix’s back as you turned towards him, he could see the panic in your face as she came closer, ignoring the coach.
“Oi. Coach said get out. Go before I drag you myself.” Sungoh said, moving between Seojin and you three.
“Oh my god, how many of the boys here are you fucking Y/N?” Seojin spat, laughing as she looked between you and the boys.
“SEOJIN.” Your heads all snapped up, seeing the rink manager walking down the stairs. “I can hear you from my office.”
“Sir, she’s been asked to leave, twice.” The hockey coach said.
“Oh I heard, I suggest you leave if you even want the chance to compete at nationals.” He said.
“You can’t do that!”
“I can’t but the ISU can.” He said, waving a usb stick in his hand.
“You can’t threaten me with the ISU, my coach is tight with the board.” She smirked, shrugging and turning back to the group in front of you.
“Your coach who hasn’t been seen since you came here?” Chris chimed, as Seojin glared at him.
“Out. Now.” The manager said, pointing to the doors as Seojin turned and walked up the stairs, you turned and buried your face into Chris’ chest as Felix rubbed your back, you felt something digging into your forehead but you didn’t care, you felt safe and that’s all you needed at this moment.
“Thanks.” Chris said, nodding towards Sungoh.
“This rink is like family man, even if we do bicker.” He said, smiling and joined the rest of his team. “I’m not going to let some outsider treat family like that.”
You snorted as you turned to look at Sungoh, seeing half the other hockey players staring at him, nodding slightly.
“You owe me some support at a hockey game now.” He said as he walked past and got onto the ice.
“In your dreams.” You quipped, grabbing your bag and waving to the team as you walked up the stairs clutching Chris’ hand praying that Seojin wasn’t hanging around in the foyer.
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today was a really good day. I think I spent a lot of this summer in an unusually negative headspace, which is understandable in context but also just isn’t how I want to live, you know? I really want to try to get recentered and to focus on living my day-to-day life with more joy and gratitude. I want to really notice the things that are awesome and wonderful and joyous about my life. here are some things that made today great.
my sister is my closest friend in my family and one of my best friends period. but I have also always had such a soft spot in my heart for my little brother, who was just such a good, loving, big-hearted kid and has grown up to become a really genuinely kind, thoughtful, caring adult. I’m staying with him and his wife (who I also really like) this week and it’s been so much fun already just getting to spend a lot of time with him working from home and running errands together and stuff like that. I genuinely love spending time with him! I think we have a similarly very playful sense of humor that revolves around spontaneously inventing & acting out different character bits in response to things around us lol. it’s very silly and fun. tonight we wandered costco for an hour just inventing little character roles as we did our errands and I just had this moment of like, oh so we’re going to be like, actual friends, I think, in the way that my sister and I have also become actual friends and not just sibling friends. I think the family stuff alone will have made this move worth it even if every other part of it disappoints. not that I expect it to at all!! but like wow I think the benefits will far outweigh anything else.
I had really good meetings at work today. I finally feel like I’m starting to build initial relationships with people in my office and that is making me feel SO much more grounded oh my god. it’s crazy how much better I feel in a day when I’ve had good long substantive conversations with at least one or two people. is this job for me long term? no, almost certainly not. but I can and will make it work in the short term.
I also had a virtual coffee with one of the recent hires who comes from much more of a policy and advocacy background, and I asked her to recommend some books for me on our field so I could better understand the political and historical context of our office’s work. I think if I really intentionally build out my understanding of the larger thing I’m a part of that will also help anchor me and keep me interested. I also am starting to feel a little bit like, well my job feels pretty meaningless and I’m not even convinced it’s necessary. but I think the enterprise I’m working for is doing some quite important and necessary work even if its importance isn’t like, the kind of work I’ve typically viewed as Deeply Significant. working for the government might turn out to be kinda cool actually
I narrowed my paint choices down to four colors to swatch tomorrow or the next day. this might not seem like an epic victory but believe me it is
I bought the whimsical forest animal sheets
because my hours are so flexible I got to go over to the new place in the middle of the day for two hours and I sat on the stairs and looked up at my beautiful skylight and felt very content. life is good. I am so lucky. my life is so full of people I love and am loved by. as long as I have that, I can weather anything.
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Pt.30 “On the Flip-Side”
Authors note: Wow. It is over. The final chapter. I have no words. (Spoiler alert: I'm lying. I have plenty of words. I could talk for an eternity if i was allowed.) I've been building this story and its characters in my head for literally years, and it all comes to an end with this. I want to give a very very huge thanks to the whump community: for so long I felt like I was going crazy because I was obsessing over this really beautiful and tragic and honestly personally healing idea and I felt like it was some dirty secret that would never see the light of day. Thank you for giving me a place to share this, thank you for welcoming these characters I hold so so dearly and appreciating them as much as I do. (any and all love I recieved on any of my work makes me seriously elated and I go back and read through every comment, reblog, and tag every day because it makes me so happy to see my little imaginary people and stories making others feel something, it's truly so incredible and I am so grateful.) ANYWAY, onto the pain lolol! This chapter is as graphic as it is long (15k words, like 27 pages on docs, buckle up!) and in the interest of not giving away the ending, I want to be a little vague in the content warning. However, it's important to me that people are consuming this media with as much safety as possible, so I do want to reiterate that this is an 18+ story, and that there are very heavy and disturbing topics and situations described in detail throughout it. This chapter specifically dives into Elias's trauma around dying and includes a major character death (among other things), so please please read with caution. Much love. -Crow <3
Cw: Therapy, tics/tourrettes, ptsd/trauma recovery, photo/video whump, discussion of leaked whumpy content, past torture, past noncon, vague discussion of self harm, panic attack(s), insomnia whump, nightmares, drugs/alcohol use, blood/gore/violence (graphic), intimate/possesive whumper, derealization, knives, discussion of guns, discussion of murder, character death (GRAPHIC), head trauma, blood loss, police mention, ambulance/hospital setting, medical whump, discussion of foster care/parental issues, discussion of scars, fluff (but only a little, as a treat) (Let me know if I missed anything!)
Speaking to his therapist doesn’t make Elias feel much better. He tells Angela about the party and Sophie Anders, he tells her that he would be perfectly content never having to step foot outside the cabin again, knowing that so many people, including those he sees as friends, have now seen him in that horrendously vulnerable way: tied up and mutilated and begging for reprieve. He tells her that he’s embarrassed, he tells her he’s scared of everyone now, especially after seeing some of the off-putting, lewd comments about him on some of Sophie’s videos where she includes the evidence she had bragged to him about. Elias admits that he feels like a hideous, less-than-human, piece of shit again, and he has ever since he heard Sophie dramatically warn her viewers about the “graphic and disturbing content” he was the star of. He does not tell her that, after he watched a few of Sophie’s videos, he had found people giving out the website that all of these pictures and videos were originally posted to, and he spent hours looking through everything he could find about himself. He also avoids telling her that he feels betrayed, he was stupid enough to believe that August viewed all of his polaroids, film camera footage, and even what he had on his phone, in the same intimate way Elias did. It was sick, sure, but it was just between the two of them, and that had made it a little easier to swallow at some point. He says nothing about how disgusted he is in himself for even thinking that way before finding it all online.
Angela, as she always has been, is full of helpful advice and encouraging words, but Elias finds himself unconvinced when she promises that this does not erase the progress he’s made. It’s hard to believe her when, in the three days between the party and finally getting to talk to her, he’s only gotten about 8 hours of sleep around his worsening nightmares, apart from coming to her office he hasn’t been able to leave the house, and he’s been getting high so often he has a steady migraine and spends most of his time distant and zoned out. And that’s just what he’s willing to be honest about, he neglects to tell her that he is constantly thinking about blood, how the images of him hurting just won’t get out of his head, how he’s so anxious he’ll hurt himself that he can’t even eat.
He also lies to her, right to her face, about how he knows that August won’t still come after him, when he mentions that. He didn’t expect it to lead to a discussion, it was just a passing comment he’d made, something like, “I don’t know why I’m so afraid again when I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
Angela pauses when she hears that, she reaches up and adjusts the loose cardigan around her shoulders, fixes the silver chain she wears. Elias’s own throat itches at the sight of the jewelry. He thought he was over that feeling, the feeling of wanting to peel himself out of his skin at the mere thought of something looping around his throat, hanging there, maybe squeezing, maybe strangling, and yet, even watching his therapist adjust her own harmless necklace makes him wrap his arms protectively around his torso and start tapping his foot.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore?” She repeats, tilting her head forward so she can look at him over the rim of her glasses. “Tell me what that’s all about.”
Elias has been to therapy before. He has talked to therapists and psychiatrists and social workers more than all of the friends he’s ever had. He knows, and Angela reminded him of this during their first session, that as long as no one has been or is in danger, everything they talk about stays in this room, hovering over the fuzzy orange carpet in between them and remaining secretively tucked away in her notes. And because of that, he can’t tell Angela that, as far as Elias knows, August is probably dead in a shitty motel in LA. He doesn’t know what Angela would consider ‘danger’, but he’s pretty sure admitting to having committed a murder (two now, but he hadn’t told her about Sawyer, either) would be enough to send her sprinting to report all of their sessions to the police. So instead, Elias lies to her.
“Last time I saw him, I think I heard sirens-fucking shit - as we were leaving.” He rubs his eyes tiredly, takes a deep breath. “I like to imagine that the cops really got him, you know? I..I guess it just helps to believe that…that he’s not gonna find me this time.” He looks away from her, glances out the window to his left. He finds comfort in the sturdy evergreens just outside. For the first time all session, he is wholly honest with her. “I just want to believe I finally got away. For good. I want to believe that it’s over.”
“That’s understandable, I can see why that would make you less worried.” She writes something down, Elias has always hated these people finding anything noteworthy about him, jotting down whatever they’re finding wrong with him, he hates it even more when Angela looks over the notes and sighs to herself. “You know you can’t base your life around him forever though, right?”
“What…?” Elias mumbles. “I don’t do that. I hardly…I usually don’t even really th-think of him anymore.” He lies again, because he does think about August. Elias never truthfully stopped being afraid of him or remembering what he did to him, he just learned how to live his life anyway, despite all the memories and the fear.
“You can think about him, Elias. Thinking of him is inevitable. I just want you to know that you should heal and live your life according to you. Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, you have to heal regardless.” She takes in his posture, how he’s practically guarding himself, how tense his shoulders are, and she sighs again. Elias wishes she would stop sighing at him like this is all stressing her out, doesn’t she know how hard it was to let Tyson drive him here? Doesn’t she know that she’s supposed to be making him feel better, and her being stressed out is making the entire ordeal so much worse for him? “Look, there’s a possibility that you'll never see him again. You could be right about him being in prison, and you could potentially live your life completely free of him.”
Elias glances at the door to her office, he knows Tyson is in the waiting room just down the hall, in fact he had promised Elias when he was called back that he would be in the same place when Elias was finished. He suddenly feels incredibly uneasy about being away from him, he wants this appointment to be over already. He wishes he didn’t come in the first place.
“There’s also the possibility that-”
“Don’t.” Elias stops her, shaking his head. “Don’t say th-that he’ll come back.”
“That isn’t what I’m saying, Elias. There’s a chance that he will be a part of your life in one way or another for a long time. This whole situation proves that. It’s important that you don’t use his presence, or lack of presence, as a baseline for your healing.”
Elias is silent at that, he won’t even look at Angela anymore, and he cringes when she sighs again. If he wasn’t so tired, and if he was being completely honest today, he might tell her that she wouldn’t say that if she really knew August. He might tell her that August is an insidious parasite that buried himself into every crevice of Elias’s brain, that he will never be able to fully move past the training and the torture and the manipulation. Maybe then she would understand what Elias is coming to find out: healing is just not something he can achieve, it’s all about survival now.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Yeah.” He mutters. “Can…can we be done now? Please? I-I’m tired, I wanna go back home.”
Angela huffs, she checks her watch, and then she nods at Elias. “Sure. I’ll see you next week, right?”
Elias nods as he stands up, he leaves her office like it’s on fire.
Tyson isn’t in the waiting room when Elias turns the corner, and the already disheartening anxiety he has from talking about August swells quickly to an unbearable panic. There were tears in his eyes from the time his hand was on the doorknob of Angela’s office, and they threaten to fall when Elias finds a waiting room full of unfamiliar faces. A few of them look up at him, glance away or allow their stares to linger a little longer. He wonders if any of the people here have seen his videos, if any of them have heard him beg before. Elias starts ticcing, and knowing that Tyson would make that a little easier by just being around makes the fact that he’s not that much worse. Before he can embarrass himself further, he heads for the door, stumbling out of the building in a flurry of tears and curses.
Tyson’s car hasn’t moved, and Elias practically sprints across the asphalt parking lot to get to it. It’s empty, Tyson isn’t waiting for him in the driver's seat, and a desperate jiggle of the handle proves that the doors are still locked. Without warning, everything seems to suddenly crash down on top of him; he’s so god damn sleep deprived he can’t even tell if this is happening, he doesn’t know when he last had a proper meal, he’s disgusting, he’s all over the internet, he has so many scars he wants to crawl out of his skin and start over fresh, he killed August, he’s a monster, Tyson is gone, Tyson is gone, Tyson is gone… He tries desperately to convince himself that there’s no way August came back and got his hands on Tyson, but after hearing his name and thinking about the last time he saw him, how much pain he was in, how much pain Elias put him in, paranoia jolts through every centimeter of his skin. Elias starts to cry, covering his face and sobbing into the sleeves of Tyson’s borrowed hoodie. Trying to inhale through the cloth doesn’t help the breathlessness from the anxiety, and the realization sparks an overwhelming urge to suffocate himself with the sleeves, right there in the parking lot of his therapist's office. He almost finds humor in the idea, but not enough to stop him from crying.
“Eli, hey,” he looks up to see Tyson crossing the parking lot towards him, phone in hand, “I didn’t realize you finished, why did you not stay the whole hour-?”
“Where the fuck were y-you!?” Elias shouts at him, stepping away from the car to meet him in the middle of the lot.
Tyson flinches at his outburst, shakes his head to himself. He points down at the phone in his hand as if that holds the entire explanation. “I…had to answer a phone call, are you ok-?”
“You said you wo-would be there! I was worried, you fucking said you would be - fuck! - you said-”
Tyson steps toward him, he tucks his phone into his pocket as he does. “I know, you finished earlier than I thought, it wasn’t-“
“No! You promised! You fucking promised, you s-said that you would b-be waiting for me in there!” Tyson is silent now, staring down at Elias’s tear stained, angry face. “You can’t do that to m-me, Tyson. I-I looked so dumb in there. You don’t understand how bad I…you can’t just fucking-”
“You’re right, Eli. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Tyson reaches out a hand, hovering over his shoulder like he’s waiting for permission to touch him. “I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
With a weak sniffle, Elias leans into Tyson’s hand, immediately grounded by the familiar tender way Tyson’s fingers massage into his shoulder, over his collarbone. The anger melts away with the simple touch, with the realization that Tyson is ok, that he’s here, that the nightmare isn’t starting all over again. Elias falls forward, right against his chest, burying his face in his clothes and looping his arms around his waist.
“I was so scared.” He mumbles, voice muffled through Tyson’s thick jacket. Tyson envelops him entirely, presses his lips into Elias’s admittedly knotted and messy hair. “I thought…Angela said that Aug…I was just scared that maybe he-”
“No, baby, I’m right here. That’s all over now, alright?” He pulls off of Elias, takes his face in his hands and swipes at a tear sliding down his cheek. “I am right here with you, and I am safe and so are you, and all of that shit is over.”
“I’m sorry,” Elias whines, and Tyson chuckles wryly at the apology.
“What for this time?” He jokes. Elias scoffs, shakes his head a little.
“Ye-yelling at you. And…and like, cussing you out in public…” he shuffles away from Tyson, and there’s no sense of being trapped or pressure to stay suffocatingly close, his arms fall easily to his sides and he stays where he is. “That was mean.”
Tyson shrugs, fishes his keys out of his pocket. “It wasn’t ‘mean’, I told you I would wait for you and I didn’t,” he unlocks the doors, “you’re allowed to be mad at me.” He steps around Elias, opens the passenger door for him, and offers up a reassuring grin as he timidly gets into the car.
Tyson doesn’t ask Elias to explain anything once they’re on the road, he flicks on the stereo to the CD that’s already loaded up, turning it to a track he knows Elias likes. He offers an open palm that Elias can choose to lace his fingers into, and he chooses to without hesitation. He doesn’t scold Elias for chewing at his nails anxiously as he watches the trees pass out the window. The entire song plays out, and in the few seconds of silence it takes for the next one to start, Elias looks over and mumbles out a soft, “Hey, Ty?”
“Yes, love?” He answers just a little over-eagerly. Sometimes, when Tyson does something like that, it only reminds Elias of his optimism, his good natured view on almost everything, and it makes him feel like he’s ruining Tyson’s life just by being around him.
“U-um…I just want to make sure that…well, I found a lot of pictures and v-videos of myself. Like, a lot. And I just want to…I just don’t want you to think differently of me i-if you see any of them.” He looks up to see Tyson’s jaw clenched hard, his stare focused on the road ahead of him.
“Why do you think I would think differently of you?” He says timidly, he’s avoiding looking at him now, Elias can tell, but he can’t quite decipher why.
“Cause they…cause in some of them it seems like I’m…”
“You like that, don’t you Bunny? You can scream and cry all you want, I know just how you like it.”
“It’s j-just that, u-um..” He tries shaking his head to get August’s voice to go away, it doesn’t do much to help. He can still practically feel his lips against his ear, telling him that he was doing well taking a punishment, or that he was behaving beautifully by not fighting August tooth and nail. He hadn’t thought of it at the time, but now his submission feels like betrayal to Tyson, and he hates himself for it. He almost can’t choke out his next few sentences around his building tears. “I d-didn’t like it, Tyson. I- fuck! - I was just trying to s-survive. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know that, baby,” Tyson’s voice is soft to try to counter the hysteria creeping back into Elias’s demeanor, “I could never hold anything that he did against you. I know August, I’ve..I’ve seen him…you were protecting yourself, Eli. N-nobody else did so you were doing it the only way you knew how, I could never blame you for that.”
“Pl-please just, don’t watch any of them, ok?” Elias gives Tyson’s hand a quick squeeze, followed by a more desperate one after Tyson doesn't respond to him. He’s still staring straight ahead with his shoulders tense and his hand gripping the wheel tightly. “Ty…? Promise me you won’t watch them, please. I do-don’t want you to see me like that-”
“Elias I have to tell you something but I think it might make everything…I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I should have been honest about this a long time ago but you were already dealing with so much and.. And I didn’t want to make it worse, so I just never said anything-”
“What are you talking about?” Elias breathes, his stomach is in knots again from the nervous tone Tyson has picked up.
“The first time you…a little bit after he first took you, I started getting texts from this unmarked number…”
Elias pulls his hand away from Tyson’s, his chest tight. “No, Ty.”
“I couldn’t even watch them at first, I was so…I was just so fucking angry that I couldn’t do anything to save you, and he was dangling you hurting right in front of my face like he knew that I couldn’t. But then, it was…it was the only way I could know you weren’t dead, Eli. Those videos were the only reason I knew that you were alive, and then I hated myself for being…relieved that he sent them. I’m so sorry, I should have been honest about that.”
The music seems taunting, now, no longer comforting, and Elias feels dread washing over him with every passing second. This entire time, Tyson had the mental image of whatever horrible home-made torture porn August had sent him tucked away in the back of his mind. This whole time, he knew what Elias sounded like when he was hurting, when he was begging, when he was performing. More than a few times, when he was in the most grueling part of recovery, Elias had found comfort in the knowledge that the stuff he felt guilty over was null when it came to Tyson, because he only had to know what Elias chose to share with him, and now none of that mattered because, from the very beginning, Elias’s pain, and the shameful things he did to try easing it, had been broadcasted for everyone to see.
Elias pulls his knees up to his chest, feels the seat belt digging into the side of his neck as he leans forward to hide his face as best as he can. He remembers Angela telling him that the progress he’s made is still there, that it didn’t just go away because of this one event, but he can’t feel it at all anymore. Everything is bad again, just like before, when life was so unbearably painful and he felt so much suffocating guilt he practically made August strangle him to death. Tyson reaches out to grab at Elias’s shoulder, he’s immediately brushed off.
“Don’t f-fucking touch me.” He whimpers from the crook of his elbow.
“I’m sorry, Eli. I’m really…” He sighs heavily, clears his throat. “I’m really sorry.”
When they get home, Elias goes straight for the pot sitting out on the coffee table. Tyson almost wants to stop him, tell him that they both know smoking isn’t going to help and they should actually talk through this situation at some point, but he feels guilty when he gets a look at Elias’s tear stained, sheet pale face, his shaking hands as he loads up a bowl. So instead, he follows him out to the porch and stands a good distance away from him, watching the smoke curl around his head. He tries not to be jealous of the drugs, of the comfort Elias is finding them.
“Do you know what I think of you?” He asks. Elias winces at the question, glances over at Tyson for only a split second before turning his gaze back to the trees.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you didn’t want me to think differently of you. I just wondered if you knew what I think of you in the first place. I don’t know that I’ve ever told you, fully.” Elias is silent now, it doesn’t stop Tyson from stepping closer to him and continuing on. “I think that you are the strongest person I have ever met-”
“Tyson-”
“No, please listen to me. I really need you to hear this.” He waits, as if he’s giving Elias another chance to protest, is pleased when he keeps his mouth shut and looks up at him. “I think that it’s incredible how much compassion you still have, even though you’ve spent your entire life being hurt by others. I really admire that about you, I think if I had to go through even half of what you did it would make me angry and mean and bitter and I think it’s amazing that you’ve come out of all of this a kind person. I think you are naturally talented in everything you do, you are more authentically yourself than anyone I’ve ever known. I truly think that you are capable of overcoming anything, I think that you simply existing makes me want to be a better person, and I don’t think I’m the only one who feels that way.” He sees tears in Elias’s eyes again, his face is flushed and it looks like he might collapse soon, with the evidence of sleeplessness etched into every detail of his face. “Elias I am in love with you and I am in love with the way your brain works and I am in love with the way you see the world and I am in love with the…the way you always steal my clothes and never give them back. That’s what I think of you. That doesn’t change just because of some stupid fucking videos.”
Elias seems stunned for a good few seconds, forgetting briefly about the glass pipe in his hand, and he searches Tyson’s face with his hazed over, exhausted eyes. Then, he grins. It’s small and has a slight sadness to it, but it isn’t tears, and it isn’t a panic attack, so Tyson takes it as a good sign. He takes a deep, shuttering inhale and sets the pipe down on the banister carefully. Every movement is shaky and with an inkling of stiffness. His shoes scuff against the wooden deck as he steps toward Tyson slowly.
“That’s…that’s because of you, Ty.” His voice is just a hoarse mumble, and Tyson steps forward to hear better. Elias tenses up further at the movement, so Tyson keeps his hands pointedly at his sides. “I was angry. I-god, I hated everyone. I was pissed off at everyone and everything, a-and myself, and then you…you made me wanna be good. You made me good a-and forgiving and nice. And not, not just mean and angry all the time. I’m not angry anymore.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Eli-”
“I’m so fucking scared, though.” His voice hitches and wavers, and now the tears building up in his eyes are threatening to fall, blurring his vision. “I think I-I’m really broken, Tyson. I thought I could be better and pretend…I’m so scared all the time and I - fuck! - I’m so tired. I’m so tired of being scared. And now, and now it’s…I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Now, Tyson can’t hold himself off any longer. Elias is right on the edge of crying again, Tyson isn’t sure how the tears aren’t already streaming down his face, so he steps forward and draws his boyfriends shivering, incredibly unstable, body up into his arms, squeezing him like he can put him all back together, if he tries hard enough. The pressure makes Elias positively melt, his legs all but collapse and he has to hold onto Tyson’s shirt just to keep himself upright. It’s something he didn’t realize he’d needed the last few days; the videos had shoved him face first back into the belief that all touch equated to pain, and that was only exacerbated by not sleeping and keeping himself inebriated all the time. But now that he’s close enough to hear Tyson’s heartbeat and all he can feel is the security of the tight embrace, he remembers that this kind of touch is relief, it’s safety.
“I’m sorry I can’t take all this away, Elias.” Tyson mutters into his hair, starting to drag his hand up and down over Elias’s arm. “It kills me that you’re in so much pain and I can’t stop it. I would do anything if I could just…ugh, I’m so sorry, my love.”
“Ta-take me to bed, Ty.” Elias says, now he sounds so far away, the comfort of being in Tyson’s arms reminds him how tired he is and it’s suddenly so much harder to keep his eyes open than it was when he was running only on his anxiety. “I wanna…I’m tired, Ty, I’m so tired, please-” Before he can continue on, he’s being scooped up against Tyson’s chest, carried back inside, and finally set down on the forgivingly soft mattress he and Tyson share. Tyson lays with him, right on top of the blankets, both of their shoes are still on, and massages at his arms and back until he’s subdued and relaxed enough to sleep.
Tyson has to slip out of bed before the sun is up, his phone goes off incessantly until he pulls himself out from underneath Elias and leaves the room briefly to answer it. When he comes back, Elias is miraculously still out cold, and Tyson is incredibly careful when he crawls on top of him and kisses him awake. He apologizes for waking him, he brushes his unruly hair out of his face, he kisses his cheek. When he tells Elias that he has to go into work for a few hours and asks if he’ll be ok alone, he’s surprised when his half-asleep boyfriend nods and mutters something like “S’ok, go, you can go.”
“I’ll be back before you even know it.” He kisses at Elias’s knuckles, at his temple. “Hey, try to get some sun today, yeah? You’re looking kind of pale, my little ghost.”
That remark rings through Elias’s head the rest of the morning. His little ghost. It shouldn’t be enough to bother him, but he finds himself fixated on it with everything he does. As he makes his coffee and tries to shake off the leftover grime of panic riddled sleep, he can see the blue of his veins sitting just under his skin, he can remember how it felt when they were almost empty. He remembers France, which seems like an entirely different life now, looking at himself in the mirror, feeling like he was dead, like he was just a ghost trapped with August. He tries to make himself breakfast, but he feels sick imagining eating anything, because hadn’t he died so long ago? Hadn’t he dropped through the floor of the mostly empty house August took him to, hadn’t he fallen through every circle of hell all at once? He’s so far past the point of food, now. The day that August strangled him, he survived, more or less. The details of his rescue were unknown to him until he had to hear the audio Sophie had gotten a hold of, with August’s desperate banter with the dispatcher, and learned he’d given him CPR until police got there. (When Sophie and her Fiance were discussing this, she mentioned how out of character this was of August, based on his history with every other victim. According to her, after the few crimes August had suffered briefly in prison for, he had never expressed regret for any of his actions, never alluded to remorse over the pain he’d caused. She described it as “either a miracle stroke of empathy for this kid he’d been torturing, or his most convincing performance to date.”) Still, though he didn’t stay dead, he believed some fraction of him was gone and wouldn’t come back; he felt it the second he opened his eyes in the hospital room, and it had cemented itself into his brain while he was in France and August made it his mission to slowly destroy Elias. He was just dead, he would tell himself, he was just dead and nothing was real so it didn’t actually matter, and August couldn’t hurt him that way.
Is Tyson starting to see him that way, too?
That’s ultimately what prompts Elias to leave the house, even though it fills him with so much dread his skin itches the entire time he’s getting ready. It’s sunnier than it has been the last few weeks, the sky has a surprising lack of dense, dark clouds, so Elias throws on Tyson’s much too big green jacket hung up by the door and leaves to soak up some of the rare sunshine. He doesn’t bring the dogs, it’s only reasonable to take them all at once when Tyson is here and can help, otherwise he just feels unfair only bringing one. He takes a trail that goes behind the cabin and keeps a good distance from the road, the same trail that Tyson dragged him to with the promise of a joint to smoke and safety among the trees. It’s also where they had often let the dogs off leash and watched them chase each other and play with the nature around them. Elias, for just a split second, feels better. The woods are empty and he is alone with all of these pleasant memories; there is no one around that might’ve seen him naked and bloody and begging, there is no pain in these woods, and as he looks at the relentlessly thriving plants around him, he feels like he might just be alright.
But, that split second of relief and tranquility and even hope comes crashing down around him, following the intolerable pattern his life is apparently subject to. He does not get to feel good, or safe, or calm, at least not for more than a few seconds at a time. Because just when he tears his eyes away from the overgrown trail and realizes he doesn’t recognize the woods around him anymore, he also sees August.
At first, he thinks he might just be really losing his mind. He thinks that maybe seeing the videos and effectively reliving everything that happened has made him go a little crazy and start seeing faces where there are none. He’s frozen, staring wide eyed as he tries to force himself back to reality and make August disappear. But then August is lifting his hand, waving and smiling because he sees Elias too. Elias decides that it doesn’t matter if August is really there or not, because he’s already resolved himself to never see him or speak to him again. He doesn’t stick around to try and find out how August found him, or how he knew to wait in the woods for him, or how he’s even alive at all.
Elias starts running.
He can hardly feel anything at all, the forest floor a blur under foot as he sprints away from August, as fast as his legs can take him and then faster. He doesn’t remember which way home is, he doesn’t know exactly where he’s running to, he just knows he refuses to let August get close enough to even speak to him, let alone touch him. He regrets not bringing at least one of the dogs with him, and then he regrets going on a walk at all. He thought it would be safe, since it was one of the first places outside of the cabin that he’d actually felt somewhat free of fear, when he first got here. Then he realizes that maybe nowhere is safe, and maybe it never will be and never was. Maybe, before he was even born, some higher power that he never really believed in decided that he was destined for a life of fear, pain, and constantly running. He finds himself wishing that it would all just end already, he’s so tired of fighting against tidal waves of agony and never getting enough time to fix himself in between them. As he thinks it, whatever higher power is controlling his life finds its sense of humor and sticks a fallen tree in his path, covered in enough undergrowth and moss to be practically invisible. He goes flying, hits the ground so hard he can’t see or breathe for a few seconds. His head smacks against something solid with a resounding crack. Even through the stars in his vision and the blinding pain at the edge of his skull, his adrenaline pushes on and he clumsily staggers to his feet again, tries to keep running.
“Jesus Christ, you’re fast!” August is exclaiming, how did he get so close so quickly without Elias noticing? He grabs onto his arm tightly and starts pulling him along behind him, and while Elias tries to shake off the dizziness and the lightheadedness from the fall, he can only stumble and try hopelessly to pull his arm away. “Why didn’t you try getting away from me more, before? You probably would’ve been able to once or twice, you little track star.”
Once the fogginess of hitting his head clears enough for Elias to get a glimpse of August’s hand fitting comfortably around his arm, wrinkling the fabric of the borrowed jacket, he feels like this is one of his nightmares. There’s no way August is here, he looks so displaced among the trees and flowers and moss. Seeing his own personal boogeyman in one of the places that helped him heal, in a place that has become borderline sacred to him, feels like his universe being ripped to shreds. “Y…you can’t, mmm…” another bout of dizziness slams into him, he can feel blood sliding down his temple but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it yet, “You can’t be here…” he finally slurs out.
August responds with a laugh, it seems distorted and daunting to Elias, especially with the symphony of birds around them. He’s definitely in a nightmare, he shakes his head hard to try and wake himself up. “Yeah, I bet you thought you were outta the woods, huh?” He laughs again, then looks irritated that Elias is too disoriented and scared to appreciate his joke. It only lasts a second, though, and then he reconciles whatever he has in place of feelings and looks instead just vaguely concerned. “Fucking clumsy idiot,” he scolds playfully, stops dragging Elias for a second to inspect the gash on his face, “you should be more careful, you know? Now I have to figure out how to fix you up before…” he trails off, reaching up and tracing his thumb down Elias’s face, following the stream of blood sliding over his cheekbone, now. He draws his hand toward himself to inspect the red on his fingertip and when Elias has to see his blood back on August’s hand, he starts sobbing instantaneously.
“Stop, stop,” he heaves, “enough, I want to wake up no-now…” he isn’t even trying to pry himself out of August’s hold anymore, his entire person radiates exhaustion as he sways, almost drunkenly, looking down at his shoes. His shoes, next to August’s shoes, which are stained with old, rusty blood. “This isn’t happening, this can’t be -fucking cock!-..I killed y-you. This isn’t real, this is not real-!“
“Wait,” August interjects, voice dripping in amusement, “aw, you think this is just another nightmare? God, you’ve kind of lost your shit without me, Bunny.”
Elias looks up at him through his tears, through his sobbing, and his lip curls like he might yell at him. Really yell at him, because he wants to, not because he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t though, he only breaks down all over again in a fit of rasping cries. August huffs like he’s satisfied, because why wouldn’t he be? All of his sadistic work stuck, Elias can’t turn off the part of his brain that August infected, the part that makes him obedient. He starts to pull Elias again, leading him through the foliage. Only this time, Elias is more present.
“Le-let go!” Elias cries, digging his feet into the ground as much as he can. But the world is still spinning around him slightly, and even the smallest tug from August knocks him off balance again and he can’t help but be pulled along. “Let go, fucker!”
August scoffs at that, turning only briefly to look at Elias with an amused smile. “I’m gonna ignore that for right now. You’re mouthy today, huh? Did I catch you in one of your moods?”
Elias feels temporarily clear headed when August smiles at him like that, like he knows exactly what he’s going to do later to make Elias pay for being “mouthy”, like he’s going to enjoy it. Like he can hardly even wait. Elias remembers August’s basement, and the way his hands feel around his throat, and how he would do unspeakable things to him just because he “sounded pretty” when he was hurting. Elias is not going to go back to any of that without a fight, he decides.
“Get your fucking hands off of me!” He shouts, he throws himself against August, enough to make him stumble back a few steps and lose his grip on his arm. It doesn’t give Elias enough time to run, but when August is closing in on him and grabbing at him again, he’s met with thrashing limbs and violent cries of “don’t touch me! Get away from me, piece of shit! Get the fuck off of me, you mother fucker!”
August is tolerant of it all with his unwavering grip, for the most part, until Elias drives his elbow hard into his ribs in one of his escape attempts, and then he’s pissed. He doesn’t give Elias time to prepare before punching him in the jaw, and before he can even right himself, August has him pinned against a tree, forearm planted steadily against his chest to trap him. Elias gives a few fruitless attempts at fighting his way out of it, pushing hard at August’s chest and squirming away from him. That is, until he catches sight of the gleaming knife August is pulling out of his pocket, and then his panic sets in tenfold. He freezes up, can’t even look at August anymore.
“Shut the fuck up now, you hear me?” His face is so close to Elias’s, and he doesn’t have to speak loudly to get his point across, Elias flinches in his grip. He can hardly feel the scar on the back of his tongue anymore, but the memory is still painfully present. He’d somewhat accepted long ago that, when it came to August, if he didn’t mind his tongue he might as well lose it. “You and I are going back to my car, and you’re going to be quiet or I will fuck your pretty face up. Right here and now.”
“No,” Elias whispers, voice small and broken and horrified, “no, I’m n-not going with you, August.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t fuckin’ ask your opinion-”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Now, there’s some sort of edge creeping back into his words, a tiny sliver of the bravery he had a moment ago, before August punched it out of him. “I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t -fuck!- I can’t take another second of being around you.”
“You’re not making any sense,” August shakes his head in disdain, “you hit your head pretty hard back there-”
“No, August, you’re not listening, I cannot fucking do this again.” His eyes are closed, a preemptive measure in case August decides to slap him around for this. Surprisingly, though, August stays right where he is, pinning Elias to the tree and staring at him with a mixed look of white hot anger and confusion. “You have to let me go. You…please let me go, August.”
August lets out a short, almost cynical laugh at that. “Let you go?” His voice is shaking now, Elias tries to swallow back the fear that he’s gone too far, that he’s made August too angry and now he’s really going to pay. When he gets up the courage to look up at him, August is shaking his head to himself. “You just don’t get it, do you? That’s not going to happen, Bunny, you’re fucking stupid if…You really think after everything I did for you that this would end by me letting you go?! After all the money I spent, the fucking people I killed for you…no, baby, that’s not how this goes.”
“Stop it, please-”
“You’re mine, what don’t you understand about that?!” He shouts. His breathing is ragged, face totally deranged. Something has snapped, he’s horrifying, he’s fucking insane, is what he is. And yet, he’s also tangibly desperate. Embarrassingly so, and in a way that makes Elias disgusted in him. For just a brief moment, Elias sees him as pathetic instead of frighteting, especially when he says; “We… we have to be together. Why don’t you see that?”
“August.” Elias hisses out, looking him right in his eyes, glaring, no, snarling, and practically spitting the next sentence: “I hate your fucking guts. I mean that. I hate everything about you. Being around you makes me fucking sick and I want you to rot in hell.”
August is stunned into silence, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Elias speak so steadily, so pointedly, before. Especially at the end, in France, he was all stutters and barely stifled obscenities. His brain was so broken and twisted by August’s cruel hands and vile manipulation, he was constantly second guessing and focusing hard on not getting himself in trouble. Hearing him speak so fluently just to say that he hates August is painful, but it’s also incredibly astonishing, and August only gapes at him in bewilderment.
“Did you fucking hear me?!” Elias snaps, starting to struggle against his grip again. “I hate you! Let me go! I ne-never wanna see you again!”
“Fine.” August breathes, follows it with a light scoff. Elias doesn’t stop trying to get away from him still, the bark of the tree he’s pressed against is scratching hard into his back, but it’s nothing compared to how much it hurts to be so close to August. “Just know that this is all your fault then.” There’s something like defeat in his voice now, and Elias would take it as his own victory, if August wasn’t still so close to him.
Elias doesn’t even make a sound when August plunges the knife into him, his eyes only go wide and he finally grows still, disbelief scribbled across his face. At first, he’s not even sure he feels it, until August is driving it deeper, twisting it, and Elias takes in a sharp, shuddering gasp, then he’s letting out a disgruntled whine, hardly audible. He goes weak in the knees before his mind fully registers the pain, August has to shift his hold on him and push him harder against the tree to keep him up, effectively forcing the blade further into him. Then, it slams into him all at once, a fire tearing through his insides and a mind shattering aching, right under his lungs. This is no nightmare, this is painfully real. He grits his teeth around an agonized sob and is ashamed in himself when he takes in fistfuls of August’s shirt and pulls, as if he can yank himself away from the pain with a little leverage, as if that’s not only making August step closer with barely concealed satisfaction on his face.
In less than the blink of an eye, August slips into another mask, he’s now wearing a depressed frown as he looks down to see blood slowly seeping out of the wound and onto his hand, just a little at a time, since he hasn’t removed the knife yet. “Oh no, my sweet Elias,” he mutters, he can tell by Elias’s reaction of eyes blown huge, overflowing with tears, and a twitching of his eyebrows into a pathetic, sad frown, that hearing his actual name on August’s tongue is sending his head spiraling in a different way, “look at what you made me do.”
“I…ha, oh god…” he swallows weakly, tips his head back until it rests against the tree. His eyes are misty with tears, he’s shaking all over in a way that feels different from fear, in a way that’s so primally ingrained he can’t help but wonder if his body already knows that it’s going to die. “God, shit-“
“Shh, darling. It’s ok, it’s all over now.”
“No no no no no,” he whimpers. He doesn’t really process that it’s too late to beg, the knife is handle-deep inside of him, there’s no undoing it now. Still though, he stifles a weak sob and looks back at August, shaking his head desperately. “Please, I d-don’t want to die, August. Don’t do this, please stop…”
“I’m sorry, baby,” August says, and he sort of sounds like he really means it this time around. To add to his pretend remorse, he stoops forward and kisses Elias innocently on the cheek. His voice is wavering slightly when he whispers into Elias’s ear, “I really didn’t want it to end this way. But you didn’t give me much of a choice, did you?”
The knife being pulled out of his body is far more painful than it was going in, and Elias can’t help the anguished scream he lets out. He doubles over in pain, and when August finally steps away from him he barely avoids falling right to the ground. He presses his hands against the sticky warmth of the stab wound, soaked through his shirt already, and he sobs out at the insane throbbing even just touching it brings. His lungs feel heavy, like they’re filled with slowly drying cement, and his breathing comes in labored wheezes and broken moans of pain.
“You… you really fucking stabbed m…me?”
He looks up at August, vision blurring and pulsing around the edges, he can feel that something is wrong, and his first thought is that he has to find Tyson, because Tyson always knows how to help. Only, before he can think about moving from his spot halfway propped up against the tree, he notices that August has now turned the knife on himself, pressing it right to his throat. He doesn’t look scared, or sad, or even happy. For once, August doesn’t look like he’s pretending, he looks just as empty and unforgiving as he really is. Elias can barely hear himself shrieking “stop it August don’t!!” past the onsetting shock over the gruesome scene playing out in front of him and the confusing haze of his own blood loss.
August drops to the ground with a heavy thud. Elias becomes very aware of the birds chirping in the branches above him, maybe if only to distract himself from the bloody leaves and sticks and flowers under August. One of them he recognizes as a blue jay, he only knows because of the one that built a nest in the trees outside the cabin. He tries to focus on the familiar shrill call of the bird as he stumbles forward, twigs crack underneath his unsteady feet as he ambles away from the bloody scene. All he has to do is find the road, and then he can get someone to help him and he can find Tyson and it can all really be over. But more than that, Elias just doesn’t want to die in the same place as August. Elias tries not to think about how it’s starting to really look that way, that he’ll only get a few yards from August and he’ll die right on the forest floor and he’ll never see Tyson, his dogs, his friends, or the art covered walls of his house again. He sobs out something like a cry for help, and is answered by only birds.
He’s got practically no energy when he finds the hill of the ditch that separates the woods from the road, and he can hear his own pained grunts and sobs echo back to him as he digs his hands into moss and leaf scattered earth to climb it. The blood on his hands makes everything he touches stick to them, so he doesn’t try to press them back against the wound once he finds himself upright on the side of the road. He wants so badly to lay down, the dark asphalt under him looks inviting, almost pillow-soft, but it seems like even sprawling out on the street would take too much energy out of him, so he merely stays swaying and staring at the spot where the white paint meets the black street. He realizes he really misses Tyson, and he can’t remember if he kissed him goodbye that morning, or if he told him he loved him. The mere thought of Tyson drives him forward, the direction he’s going isn’t important, he just needs to find Tyson. Or help, he reminds himself, he needs to find help. A tic throws him off balance, he has to catch himself on the post of a nearby road sign. When he notices the dirty, bloody handprint he leaves behind, he almost vomits right there on the asphalt. His labored breathing sounds far louder in his ears than it really is, he almost doesn’t hear the car approaching quickly behind him. He shuffles away from the sound of tires screeching to a halt against the asphalt, wobbles in place as he tries to get his thoughts together. This car stopping means help, it means potential safety, it means he has a better chance of surviving this than he thought. In that moment, though, he finds the line connecting his thoughts and his voice is entirely severed, he can’t even get out a measly “help” anymore between his weak weeping. The car door opens, and Elias attempts to blink away the black splotches dancing across his vision. He starts to cry harder upon seeing them, realizes that the last time he saw them he died moments later, and he whines helplessly at the all too familiar dread building in his stomach. There is blood on the white line of the road now, and blood on his shoes.
“Elias?” He can’t tell if the voice is in his head or if the person really knows who he is, and he can’t seem to force himself to look up from his shoes, there is so much blood on them he knows that if he survives this, he’ll have to throw them out entirely. There’s no amount of bleach that could undo this mess. He looks up when he hears the slamming of a second door, and it sort of starts to feel like some bizzare nightmare again when he sees Chris and Rayne standing there, taking in Elias’s disheveled, breathless state with their own degrees of concern. “What are you doing all the way out here-?”
“Oh my god, is that blood?!” Rayne cries out, starting off in a sprint around the back of the car towards Elias’s trembling frame. He flinches away from them, still on edge from having to endure August. “Shit, Elias, you…that’s a lot of blood, what happened?”
“U-um…I…ugh, I think I’m dyin’, Rayne…” he hears a shuffling of bushes behind him, swiveling around a little too quickly to make sure August didn’t follow him. Rayne gets close enough to grab at his upper arms, and that small bit of stability and comfort is all it takes for him to finally collapse, right into Rayne’s chest. They barely stop him from hitting the ground fully, cradling him against their body, despite the blood soaking them both.
Rayne only holds him for a second before pulling away from him, carefully splaying him out and peeling his shirt up to get a better look at the source of all this warm, sticky red all over the now pale and shivering boy. Upon seeing the gaping hole under the center of his ribcage, they suck in a horrified gasp and start taking off their jacket to press against the wound. “Holy shit, Chris you gotta call the cops right now-”
“No, no,” Elias is slurring, forgetting momentarily that calling the cops and getting help was his plan in the first place, he tries to wave his hand to get Chris’s attention, it falls hopelessly to the asphalt, “I want…I want to talk to Tyson, p-please, I just want to hear his voice…”
Chris doesn’t listen, or can’t hear him, he’s already climbing back into the cab of his truck to retrieve his phone. Rayne presses the layered cloth of their jacket against his abdomen, really adding pressure, and Elias wails with more conviction than he thought he had energy for.
“I’m sorry, Eli,” Rayne tells him, “it’s gonna be ok, help is coming. I just need you to take some deep breaths for me, yeah? Can you do that?”
Elias tries to listen and get in a deep breath, but is cut off by a few pained coughs and groans. He reflexively grabs onto Rayne’s sleeve, biting down so hard to muffle his sobbing that he feels his teeth might crack. “Oh god Elias, who the fuck did this to you?” Rayne mutters, almost to themselves, then looks over their shoulder to find Chris. He’s climbing down from the truck with the phone pressed to his ear, then he’s jogging back to meet them on the side of the road. “Is someone coming? Tell ‘em to hurry.” Their voice is more urgent, despite how low they’re speaking to try not to frighten Elias more.
“He…he’s dead.” Elias whispers abruptly, both of them frown at him, Chris turns away to say something discreetly into the phone, and Rayne starts to brush Elias’s hair tenderly away from his face with the hand they aren’t using to stop him from bleeding out. They avoid the gash on his forehead from the faceplant that got him caught in the first place. “He did it right in f-front of me… he…how co-could he do that….?”
“Hush, Elias,” Rayne says softly, “it’s alright. You’re safe with us, ok? We’re gonna make sure you get help, I promise. Don’t think about all that other shit right now.”
“I don’t want to die-”
“Don’t say that!” They snap at him. “What did I just tell you, Eli? Chris and I are gonna help you. You are not dying.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry.”
Rayne looks off into the trees, hazel eyes calculating and overflowing with worry. Finally, they fall back down onto Elias and they force a small smile. “Hey, someone brought a pigeon to work today.” Elias is just dizzy enough from the blood loss and possible concussion that he grins, his eyes flutter a little.
“A pigeon? Wa…was it a pet?”
“No,” Rayne starts to laugh softly, and they think maybe they can hear sirens distantly and they allow themselves to exhale just a smidge,“no, her dog caught it. Her little cocker spaniel. Tried to play with it, she said.”
Elias hums something like a chuckle, he seems to be relaxing a great deal. Either that or he’s just succumbing to the injury, joining August in the darkness. Rayne becomes desperate to keep him aware, focused on something until the ambulance arrives.
“Do you remember that cartoon movie that has the cocker spaniel in it?” They rush out. “I’ve been trying to remember the name of it all day but it’s just…I can’t think of it.”
“Um.” Elias closes his eyes, and Rayne feels their heart stop for a second, but then he’s opening them again, looking up at the clouds. “Nah, I don’t think I know th-that one.”
“Oh, well, one of us will think of it later.” They definitely hear the sirens now, and they look up to see Chris watching on with a slightly green paleness under his beard. “Anyway…the uh…the pigeon is fine,” they look back down to see Elias has closed his eyes again, and they feel his breathing slowing under their hands. “The pigeon is fine, Elias. We named him Phillip, Chris thought you would think that was funny. Isn’t…Isn’t that funny, Eli?”
“Eli?”
“Holy fuck Rayne tell me he’s still-” There’s a sharp edge to Chris’s voice now, and Elias wants to sarcastically tell him to chill out, but he feels so far away from his body, from this entire situation, he can’t get any words out. The sirens are getting closer, Elias wishes he was present enough to find relief in the dissonant wailing of the approaching ambulance.
“I-I think he just passed out. He’s still breathing.” Elias remembers to breathe, his inhale is slightly jittery and broken under the jacket and the crushing pressure Rayne is using to try and stop the blood fleeing his body.
“Oh my god. Oh my god this isn’t fucking happening.”
Even though he didn’t choose any of this, even though it all still feels slightly unreal, and even though he is dying, Elias feels guilty. Humiliated, even. How disgusting of him, to burden his friends with this, to make them audience to the final act of August’s shit show. He would apologize, if he could remember how to speak, and if he wasn’t suddenly so cold it makes him breathless.
“Relax, Chris. That isn’t helping…..Eli, stay with me, bud. Just hang in there for a little bit longer.”
There’s a moment after Rayne says that, unless it’s longer than a moment and Elias is just losing his sense of time in his state, where everything morphs into nothing. The road under him disappears, he’s floating aimlessly, he can’t hear Chris panicking or Rayne reassuring him, he can’t even see the backs of his eyelids anymore. Didn’t he hear sirens a moment ago? He worries that help isn’t coming anymore, after all, and the slight hope he had of surviving this fades to nothing.
Elias is nothing. Again.
Elias is dead. Again.
Then, the moment passes. The first thing that comes back to him is his hearing, even though everything is muffled and muted by a distant ringing. There are voices nearby, and a dissonant beeping that’s vaguely familiar but Elias can’t process why. Then, as if he’s being forced back into his body, the pain sinks in. First in his stomach, so deep inside of him that he’s instantly nauseous and can’t focus on anything else. After that his skull feels like it’s splitting right in half inch by inch, and that’s when he hears himself let out a feeble groan. He’s confused, because if he died again, why is he in so much pain? He doesn’t think it was like this the last time, last time he was so relieved to be free of pain and seeing Tyson again, for whatever reason, so why did it stick around this time?
“It’s ok, baby,” he hears, close to his face like Tyson is there with him, right on cue, “I know it hurts, but you’re ok now. You’re ok.”
“Ty?” He chokes out, his voice hoarse and rasping. He tries to open his eyes, but something is keeping him weighed down and barely conscious enough to even move.
“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I’m right here my love-”
“I d-don’t understand…it hurts still, wh-why…ugh…” he starts to cry softly, before he even really feels like he wants to cry. Fingertips brush against his cheekbone and he’s even more perplexed at that, because last time Tyson didn’t touch him, didn’t even try to. “Am I not de…dead, yet?”
Though it’s making him far more confused, he finds relief in the gentle hand petting through his hair. “No, Elias.” Tyson breathes after a long time, his own voice is watery and shaking, and if Elias wasn’t under a million pounds of water and only partly present, he would throw himself into Tyson’s arms so they could comfort each other. “You’re not dead. Y-you’re alright, they saved you. You’re not gonna die, ok?”
“...what? Really?”
Now, Tyson laughs softly, with his own degree of disbelief. Elias starts to gain a little more awareness, he feels the stiff mattress under him, the sort of scratchy blankets he’s under. He also feels something resting in each nostril, he realizes distantly that he’s probably hooked up on oxygen. Finally, he’s able to peel his eyes open, but he has to immediately squeeze them shut again after the horrendously bright fluorescent lights assault him.
“God, Eli, I’m so glad you’re here.” Tyson breaks down, even though seconds ago he was chuckling at Elias, and it almost hurts more than the stitched up stab wound when Elias looks up at him just to see his face tear stained and distressed. He’s still in his scrubs, but the chair he’s pulled away from the wall to be right next to the bed has a blanket draped messily across the back, and there are a few of the hospital's bland coffee cups discarded on the bedside table like he’s been there for awhile. “Th-they called me from the ambulance and I…fuck, Elias, can’t take almost losing you anymore. I’m gonna go actually insane if I have to see you halfway to death in a hospital bed one more fucking time-” He’s cut off by a soft tapping at the cracked door, he yanks his hands away from Elias as he jumps at the small sound. Then he’s writhing a little, wrinkling his face up as his breathing stifles.
The nurse that pops into the room looks immediately surprised to see Elias conscious, and she proves that further by glancing at Tyson and exclaiming, “he’s awake! When did he wake up?”
“Uh…” Tyson huffs, wipes the tears from his face. “Just now. I was gonna come get you, he’s in a lot of pain, so…”
“Oh no!” Even as she says it her voice is chipper, and she crosses the room carefully to the sink, begins to scrub soap into her hands with practiced ease. “I’ll get some more of those delicious painkillers as soon as I’m done checking your vitals, sound good, Elias?”
Elias looks up at her, this all feels a little too similar to the first time he woke up after dying, and he feels too frightened to answer. She finishes rinsing her hands off, but she doesn’t try to approach him after they’re dried. He imagines her touching the places where his body is ablaze with agony, and it makes him sick all over again.
How badly does it hurt, scale of one to ten?
How dead do you feel right now, scale of one to ten?
“I…” he trails off, glancing at the little screen that’s displaying his heart rate, flinches again when he hears Tyson shifting to be close to him. “Are you su-sure I’m alive?” He whispers to Tyson, and he is taken aback when the question makes Tyson go stiff suddenly. “S-sorry, I just kinda feel-fuck!-” the jolt of ticcing makes him hiss and curl into himself, and Tyson immediately has a gentle hand back against Elias’s temple, his thumb tracing tenderly at his hairline.
“Shhh, baby, it’s ok. I promise, you’re alive, you’re right here with me. And hey, look, I gotta show you something-” he uses his free hand to reach for his phone, leans even closer to show Elias his screen, the picture of all three of the dogs sleeping on his side of the bed. “Chris sent me that this morning. They miss you, isn’t that so fuckin’ cute?” He’s doing his best now to keep his tone light, like the nurse that just walked in, but Elias can’t seem to find comfort in it. He ignores the attempted distraction without missing a beat.
“So…so is August really g–gone, then?” He knows the answer already, he was there when it happened after all, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the dread that comes when Tyson throws the nurse a desperate frown.
“Yes, Eli, he is. He…he can’t hurt you anymore. ” He’s watching Elias’s face carefully, waiting for his reaction with bated breath and stiff shoulders. When all that he gets is a measly nod and a suddenly far-off, blank stare, he grows even more uneasy.
The nurse must be able to sense the doom blossoming in Elias’s head, because she pointedly pulls on a pair of gloves and steps half a foot closer. “I feel bad, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Joanne.”
Elias still doesn’t look completely present, but he whispers out a soft “Hi, Joanne,” with as much politeness as he can muster.
“Is it ok if I check some things? I want to get rid of your pain as soon as possible but my boss doesn’t let me hand out drugs without the proper paperwork.” She smiles brightly when he nods at her, and she’s nice enough to try to explain every procedure and the reasoning behind it, even though he seems to be majorly checked out still. He doesn’t complain about the pain anymore, even though Tyson can see the very evident anguish on his face when Joanne changes the bandages on his stomach and cleans dried blood from around the stitches. The jagged, stitched up line is much bigger than the stab wound initially was, Elias wonders how much internal damage August dealt him. She puts new gauze and tape over the soon to be new scar among countless others, promises that she will change the dressings on his head that he hadn’t noticed in a bit, and then she leaves to get the promised painkillers.
More times than Elias is willing to admit, he had imagined something like this. In his head, in the sick, shameful fantasies he sometimes got, August would die by Elias’s hand. Elias had thought about giving him a taste of his own poision-laced medicine by chaining him up and torturing him until his body gave up on him, and he had pictured stealing August’s gun and shooting him in his sleep so he could escape, and when he shot him in the motel in California, that had briefly turned into a reality. All of those times, he thought that killing August meant justice or revenge for himself, he thought that it would bring him peace to know that he couldn’t be hurt again by the person who had torn his life apart in every way he could think of. But now, with August actually gone, and Elias somehow miraculously still alive, all he can think about is a bleak conversation he’d had with August pretty early on in France.
“Do you ever imagine your own funeral?” August asked. Elias felt like it was a trap, he knew that August liked to talk about upsetting shit like that just to send Elias spiraling. That time, though, he sounded somewhat genuine, and he’d been drinking a lot that day, so maybe he was just feeling somber. Or whatever was the closest thing to somber he could feel.
“What a-are you talking about?” He was not ridiculed or immediately punished for asking, and he remembered it registering that August might not be planning on using this as an excuse to shove Elias further off the deep end.
“Do you ever picture what your own funeral would be like? Like, what kind of flowers would be set up? Would they play that shitty organ music or the music that you actually enjoyed?” He paused, took a short swig, and looked away from Elias and out the living room window toward the beach. “Does anyone actually show up, and do the people who do show up cry their eyes out? You know, that kind of thing.”
“Uh…y-yeah, I guess I have a few t…a few times.” He was on the floor during this conversation, because when August got drunk and pretended to be vulnerable he also liked to make Elias kneel in front of him and stroke at his hair and stick his fingers in his mouth and otherwise torment him in any little way he could think of. “Do…Do you?”
August hummed, switched the elegant glass of whiskey from one hand to the other so he could rake his fingertips through Elias’s hair. He was gentle, and Elias pushed further into his touch to try and keep him that way. “When my dad died, I was in charge of his funeral. I spent…I spent so much god damn money and time on that stupid fucking thing.” Elias flinched minutely with every curse, but surprisingly August’s touch didn’t grow harsh to match his tone. “I even got these huge bouquets of a bunch of different flowers for the piece of shit, you should’ve seen them, they were probably taller than you.” He smiled warmly down at Elias and used the backs of his knuckles to stroke lovingly down his face before returning to his hair.
“Th-that’s not really saying much…” Elias breathed, instinctively trying to comfort August with humor because of the incredibly touchy subject he was diving into. August had mentioned his fathers death only once before, glazed right over it like he was just telling Elias that the sky was blue and the grass was green. And in that moment he was drunkenly spilling his guts out about it and he almost sounded vaguely bummed out, so Elias pushed all the past torture and lies and other life ruining atrocities to the back of his mind and started trying to make the sadistic monster feel better.
It worked, August looked incredibly amused at Elias’s joke, he even laughed after a second. “That’s funny, sweetheart.” He took in the flustered, confused stare on Elias’s face at that, very clearly loving that he was discomposed by something that sounded just vaguely like praise. Then he sighed, looked into the brassy liquid he insisted on consuming every waking second, lately. “Anyway, no one showed up. I spent almost a month planning and organizing and setting shit up, and I was the only one there. How fucking shitty is that? And after sitting in a funeral parlor with my dead dad for, like, an hour, I just left. I went and chainsmoked some cigarettes in my car and I watched them clear out the parlor for the next poor fuck and…and I watched them drag those gigantic fucking bouquets all the way out to the dumpster. They didn’t even keep them to use for someone else or donate them, they just threw them away.”
Elias didn’t know what to say for a long time, but August didn’t seem to be expecting him to speak, still lost in thought staring at his booze. It was the closest to human August had seemed in a long time, and that’s probably what prompted Elias to press his forehead against August’s thigh and nuzzle against him and say: “that’s horrible, August. I’m so s-sorry.”
“Aw, thank you, Bunny, but it isn’t horrible. It’s…it’s cause and effect, that’s all. He’s the reason no one but me showed up.” By then, August wasn’t restraining himself with his affection, he massaged his free hand into Elias’s shoulders and the back of his neck without inhibition. Elias couldn’t tell if it was a product of the alcohol, Elias’s behavior, the nature of the conversation, or a mixture of all three that was making him so nice, but in that moment he was praying that it lasted forever. “But, anyways, yeah, I do imagine my own funeral. It’s going to be even lonelier than my fathers. I don’t think it’ll even count as a funeral, it would be more like the bouquets getting tossed into the dumpster.”
“Don’t say that,” Elias muttered disdainfully, “th-that’s not true.”
“Yeah it is. I’m an asshole but I’m not an idiot, I’ve done all that I can to guarantee that no one will show.”
Elias looked up at him, he was shocked at the pained expression August was wearing. “I… I would show up. If you ever…I don’t wanna think about- shit- about that, but I would show up.”
August smiled brightly at that, he hooked his finger in Elias’s collar and pulled him up off the floor, yanked him into his lap. When Elias winced and softly whined, August smiled and lit up just a little. His eyes scanned up and down the younger man's battered body with devouring intensity, and Elias felt like he should stop egging him on before it led to what it always did and he was hurting even worse.
“You wouldn’t.” He tested.
“I would, A-August.” He paused, trying to read August’s face to figure out how he was going to react. He seemed to like the vague degree of humor Elias had used a moment ago, so he tried that again. “Even if it w-was just a dumpster funeral.”
August chuckled, looped his arms all the way around Elias and drew him close, pressing his mouth against his neck just under his jaw. When he spoke against his skin, Elias shivered. “Would you cry?”
“Of course I would, you kno-know me. I’d cry like a little bitch.”
That must’ve been the perfect mixture of self-deprecation, humor, and stroking August’s ego, because he consumed Elias immediately after. Right on the couch, he took off the few clothes Elias was wearing and used him and the idea of him crying over his death to get off. By the end of it, Elias had no idea if he was telling the truth or just trying to make August feel better. He also had no idea why he would do either of those things for this hurricane of a person, the thing that ruined his life in ways that Elias could never imagine or even fully understand yet. He hated himself, just like he always did after doing anything that August enjoyed, and he hated August for being so confusing and hurtful, and he hated Tyson for not saving him yet.
August does not have a funeral. At least, if he does, Elias is left blissfully unaware of it. He stays in the hospital for another three weeks; he can hardly move around, even with help, as he recovers from surgery and the short coma he supposedly fell into from blood loss and his concussion. But beyond that he finds himself in so much mental anguish he doesn’t feel safe leaving. Paranoia drives him insane the first week, and after that he still won’t allow anyone but Tyson and the near constant flow of nurses and doctors in the room, even Chris and Rayne have to wait until he’s released to even see him.
Tyson is, unsurprisingly, the only comfort in the dark and gloomy hospital. He only leaves him for minutes at a time, but is otherwise adamant about staying right at his bedside, calming him down when he wakes up screaming, or holding his hand while he gets his incredibly sensitive wounds cleaned and bandaged. He also manages to find a pad of paper and some colored pencils and spends a majority of the time drawing with him, keeping him distracted from the terror he had to suffer through. It doesn’t work every time, but Elias will admit that it’s nice to at least keep his hands busy. Tyson notices that Elias doesn’t ever use the red shades, and Elias notices that the next time they draw together, all of the reddish hues have been removed from the box. Elias doesn’t know why that makes him lose his cool, why he ends up sobbing in Tyson’s arms about how grateful he is, but some part of him realizes that the simple gesture is proof that Tyson really does love him, it’s enough to finally, finally extinguish any doubts that still played in Elias’s broken mind even after all this time. Tyson loves him, he loves him enough to notice the familiar color bothering him, he loves him enough to carefully remove the ones that might be close to upsetting, he loves him enough to not even mention that he did it. It’s strange, because compared to everything that Tyson has done for Elias, taking three or four pencils out of a box is nothing, and yet Elias feels like he might implode from the small act.
Eventually, Elias is well enough to go back to the cabin, and Tyson surprises him with something resembling a welcome home party, only much smaller and not as intense as Elias imagined something like that would be.
Chris and Rayne are there, and they both spend the first few minutes pouring their hearts out about how happy they are that he’s ok, how much they were worried about him. Rayne tells him that the only reason they even came across him in the first place was because Chris had grown worried after the mess that transpired from the party, and begged Rayne to drive out to the cabin with him to check on Elias. Later, Chris really drives that home by profusely apologizing over the last time they saw each other, promising that he deleted Elias’s picture from his phone immediately after he left and never even thought about searching for more. He sounds the most caring and genuine he ever has when he pulls Elias into an almost too-tight bear hug and tells him, “you’re like a little brother to me, I would never hurt you like that on purpose.”
Tyson’s mom, Kathy, and his father, William, also come, along with their four other children. Tyson has talked endlessly about his siblings, and getting to finally meet them (despite the sort of bizarre undertones) is nice. He meets Tyson’s older sister Sierra, who is a bubbly engineer, and she blows Elias away with just how smart she is. She also gets giddy and teary eyed when she talks about her girlfriend, and she shows Elias the ring she’s planning on proposing with, makes him feel special when she tells him no one else knows yet and to keep it a secret. Reagan is Tyson’s older brother, and though he’s not incredibly talkative, he does seem to share the same artistic passion his brother has, and he compliments Elias on his paintings and his photography. At one point he tries to convince Elias to take an expensive digital camera that he recently got but will never use, tells him it’s a gift, but eventually backs down when Elias shows him his cracked phone screen and jokes that the camera will likely suffer the same fate. Tyson’s two youngest siblings are far younger than the other three; when Kathy was introducing them, she made a joke about Tyson moving out causing her and William to get bored, so they popped out two more kids to keep them busy. Carter is a seven year old boy who wrestles with the dogs until they get tired and still has the energy to do laps around the living room and kitchen for about an hour after. He is also obsessed with Elias’s hair, he tries to separate the blond and the blue down to each individual strand, he laughs lightheartedly every time Elias tics and ruins his progress. Meredith is the youngest at only five, and she proudly shows Elias all of the beads woven delicately into her hair, she stomps her feet with excitement when Elias tells her how much he likes the ones shaped like butterflies because those are her favorites too! At the end of the night, before her parents take her home to get much needed sleep, she sits on the couch with Elias and traces her little fingers over his tattoo. She asks innocently about how he got all of his scars, and he finds himself speechless. Eventually he tells her that it was just an accident, he tells her sometimes people get hurt and you can see where it happened for a long time after. She nods her head in understanding, and then she peppers a few tiny kisses against his skin, over the scars.
“Does that feel better, now?” She asks him after. “When I get hurt, Mama kisses it and it feels better.”
“Y-yeah, it does,” he tells her, and he isn’t lying even a fraction, “thank you, Mer. You should b…be a doctor, I think you might have secret healing powers.”
“Like Ty?” She asks through a stifled yawn.
Elias glances across the room to see Tyson and his father talking quietly, and it’s almost as if Tyson can sense his boyfriends eyes on him, he smiles brightly when he sees Elias and Meredith sitting together. For the first time possibly ever, Elias’s heart feels full. He doesn’t feel any subconscious urge to search for an escape or a distraction or something to numb him; he is perfectly content in this room with all of the people he cares about, holding eye contact with the love of his life from a distance but with an underlying sense of warmth and closeness. Knowing it’s all because of Tyson makes him feel gooey and weak at the knees, he never thought he’d meet anyone who would care enough about him to do even half of what Tyson has for him. He’s eternally grateful that someone so kind decided to take him in, show him that the world is not all sharp edges and misery but instead complicated beauty and life changing sunsets. Tyson gave him a sanctuary when he needed it most, and showed him that his feelings mattered, and showed him that he could be loved as he is, even if what he is constantly changes, and now is giving Elias something he has always ached to have: a family.
“Yeah,” he finally answers Meredith, “yeah, just like Ty. Maybe h-he gave you some of his magic.”
Meredith giggles, but she doesn’t disagree with him. Elias thinks that, as young as she is, even she can tell just how much Tyson has changed his life for the better.
It’s late when everyone leaves and Tyson and Elias are finally alone again, and they begin to tidy up the aftermath of having so many people over. Tyson stands in the kitchen, elbow deep in dish water. He can hear Elias in the living room collecting dishes, ticcing the entire time. Tyson listens to the soft clicking and humming and occasional curses, but in between that he’s murmuring compliments to the dogs, and he doesn’t sound bothered. After debating himself for a solid minute, Tyson decides to go check on him, because he did just go through something horrendous (again) and that was a lot of people to be around after isolating himself with Tyson for so long. Besides, he knows Elias’s tics flare up when he’s anxious or stressed, and for the past year and a half that’s nearly all that he’s been. It feels…habitual, now, call and response. He dries his hands off, and on his way out of the kitchen catches sight of an old vinyl his dad gifted him before he left, and he grabs it last minute.
Elias perks up as soon as he notices Tyson in the same room as him, smiles in a way that Tyson can’t quite read, can’t tell if it’s disingenuous or not. He watches Tyson as he makes his way to the new-age record player they haven’t used yet. Elias sets the dishes he was gathering onto the coffee table and joins Tyson, observing how carefully he pulls the vinyl out of its sleeve and sets it on the turntable.
“Wh…where did you get that?” He asks softly.
“It was my dads,” Tyson explains, “he told me to count it as a housewarming gift.” He turns and looks at Elias as the soft crackling of the record spinning rings out through the speakers. He’s jittery, but his face seems serene, unbothered.
When the music starts, Elias finds himself leaning against Tyson, watching the record spin and breathing in the slight static of the piano. After a few measures, recognition falls over his face and he gasps, snapping his head up toward Tyson. It was the song Tyson had played for him so long ago, before everything was ripped apart and they were left in the ruins. That seems like a dream now, the people in the memory who danced in each other's arms are strangers. Everything is entirely different now, and yet, when Tyson smiles down at him with his dark brown eyes shining and his face glowing with visible adoration, it feels like nothing has changed at all.
“This is…thi-this is the…” Elias stammers, his hands are flailing again, Tyson still can’t tell if he’s picking up on hints of anxiety or not.
“Yeah, baby,” he interrupts, this time around he’s the one to pull Elias close, starts swaying with him ever so slightly, “you remembered.”
Elias giggles, gets as close to Tyson as he can while tipping his head back to still see him. “Of course I- fuck!- of course I remember. Wow, it sounds even prettier like this.”
The dogs are exhausted from rough housing with Carter, but they offer a few interested glances at the two as they dance in front of the speakers. Tyson wonders if they’ve ever seen him and Elias this close, it feels like it’s been ages since they were able to melt into each other completely, with no outside distractions or worries. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now he feels a sense of togetherness that was muted for so long, he can’t tell if it had been him holding back, or Elias, or maybe both of them, but now neither of them are. They’re close, swaying in each other's arms, there’s no timid self-restraint or averting eyes or tension.
“The first time I showed you this song was the day I realized I was in love with you.” Tyson mutters it like it’s a very intimate, personal secret, despite them being alone. Elias blushes and smiles again, Tyson is so relieved to see him smiling so much, given what just happened to him. “I wish I would’ve told you that right when I knew. I regret keeping it a secret for so long.” He leaves out the part where most of that regret stemmed from losing Elias, from having to carry the knowledge that Elias almost died without knowing how loved he was.
“That’s ok, I d-didn’t tell you right when I knew, so we’re even.” There’s amusement in his tone, he trails his hand over Tyson’s shoulder and caresses the back of his neck, plays with his hair. Then, as if he can tell what Tyson is going to ask before he opens his mouth, he says “It was the night I came over without asking, and it was…it was late and you were-” he cuts himself off with a soft laugh, shakes his head to himself. “Man, you were so stoned when you opened the door. Like, Cheech and Chong level stoned, Ty. And you didn’t get mad at me for just showing up, you didn’t even ask me why I was there. You just…” as he trails off, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to put himself back into the memory. Tyson can’t stop himself from tracing his fingertips over Elias’s cheek gently, he’s too beautiful for Tyson to keep his hands to himself. Elias leans into it, and then he looks back up at Tyson and sighs wistfully.
“You just smiled at me. This big, lopsided smile that ma-ow, shit- that made my lungs hurt, and then you said ‘I’ve been thinking about you all day.’ I don’t think you even said hi. And when you said that I…I realized that I didn’t want anyone else in the world, I just wanted you. I just wanted to keep hearing you say that you think about me.”
“I don’t think I ever stop thinking about you.” Tyson chuckles. Elias wrinkles his nose up as he smiles, tugs at Tyson’s hair playfully.
“Yeah, well, as creepy as that sounds, the feeling is…very mutual.” He pauses, directs his gaze to the floor for a second, eyes shining with tears when he looks back up. Tyson frowns at him, but before he can really react or say anything, Elias is speaking again. “I want to thank you, Ty. I-I know you always say that I don’t have to, but I…you have changed my life. I feel like I’m whole, like I’m not s-so empty anymore. And that’s all because of you. U-um…tonight was really…meaningful, for me. Your family is incredible.”
Tyson breathes a sigh of relief, wipes away the tears streaming down Elias cheeks. “You’re alright, then? I was a little worried about having so many people over…”
Despite the tears on his face and the wavering in his voice, Elias laughs and nods his head. “I th-think this is the happiest I’ve been in…” he sighs, sniffles just a little. “In a long time.”
With that, Tyson leans in and presses his forehead to Elias’s, pulls his body closer. “Can I kiss you, Eli?” He whispers. Even as he’s asking, Elias is leaning forward, lips slightly parted, eyes screwed shut, breathing hitched and bothered. It’s invitation enough, but Tyson waits for an answer before closing the space between them.
“Please, Tyson…” Elias finally mutters, and as soon as his name falls from Elias’s lips, Tyson is kissing him like they used to be fused together and Tyson’s trying to absorb him again. There is nothing between them but clothes and the music floating from the record player still, and Elias can’t remember the last time Tyson touched him so unafraid, but it feels like finding water in the desert. Which is how Elias kisses him, like he’s been wandering around a vast sea of sand and his throat is parched and his muscles are weak and Tyson is a forgiving, ice cold waterfall that Elias can’t ever drink enough of. Just like everything has been since Elias woke up in the hospital, the kiss is different. It’s not anything that he’s ever experienced, with the closeness that doesn’t hurt and the innocence of a tongue trailing across his lip without trying to intrude behind it, with the occasional smiles and breathless giggles that they don’t let interrupt them for long, with the eyes closed tight out of trust and not fear, and Elias doesn’t hate himself and Elias feels desirable because he’s Elias not because he’s a toy to be used. And it all feels earth-shatteringly perfect.
#elias x tyson#whump#whump blog#whump community#emotional whump#whump character#whump comfort#whump drabble#whump art#whump comic#whump aesthetic#whump cw#whump prompt#whump fic#whumpblr#pet whump#whump tropes#whumpee#whump writing#caretaker#defiant whumpee#whump tag#whump things#whump angst#whump aftermath#whump concept#whump dialogue#whump dynamics#whump fluff#whump gore
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i’ve been thinking a lot about... living, and being a whole person, recently. i don’t really know how to phrase this or explain it, because i’m not going to trauma-dump or whatever here, and personal things stay personal. but. maybe there’s a point in talking about this.
last year, i kind of hit rock bottom. in like, february, a lot happened. and that summer i spent picking up the pieces, trying to reconcile the idea that i was still a person after everything? not even in a heavily dark way just, like, the idea that you can be surrounded by not the best crowd of people in not the best situation and when you’re separated from that, you still exist. you weren’t trapped there, but you don’t even know what comes next for you.
i went to an arts camp that year. and when august came, i started taking long walks, listening to music and getting sunshine in and everything. and i started having a nice thing going with my current girlfriend, and i got closer with a lot of my friends, and like... i dunno.
ended up seeing two school plays that year, both with my girlfriend beside me. instead of opting out in a project and just writing a boring essay, i baked a cake with some friends. i hung out with two people on halloween, i baked with a lot of people that year wow, nearly got confessed to by gf before her friend showed up profusely bleeding and interrupting us, spent eight hours total with my cousin-in-law for prom prep, it was really lovely.
and now i just think about like. i watched heathers with my girlfriend and she stayed over longer than anybody else used to, and i walked to the local park a few times just on a whim to see my friend and we just aimlessly talk. i’m taking a roadtrip to a different state to visit a college, and in september i might be flying to another state to go to a meeting for activism work. i want to go to homecoming and prom and graduation and spend my wednesday afternoons going to a local theatre with my girlfriend to watch the great gatsby over and fucking over again, and
and i don’t know! i just. i think there’s something really, really wonderful about getting to a point in life where you realize that you can be a person, and other people want that person to be in the world, and i can just! i can. i can do things, you know?
i don’t know why i’m sharing this again, i guess maybe because i think it’s helpful. part of the reason i wrote cough syrup was to kind of make peace with the fact that my life had fallen apart and left me with the scrambled pieces of a lot. and like, approaching nearly one year of writing it, it’s kind of crazy to think that i pulled myself out of a hell and am like... okay. i am okay!
it’s a little scary to me to think about the fact that there was a point in time where i genuinely thought i would be just... a husk. drop out of college after two years and fly to a different country just to watch my 'loved ones’ fall apart and leave me alone with nowhere to go. genuinely thinking at the age of fifteen that i wouldn’t have a future that included anybody i really cared about, or any identity for myself. i thought i was this angry asshole, and i was an angry asshole, but that’s not all i had to be.
so. i guess i’m just... i don’t know. i don’t know if this helps. if this is reassuring or just another instance of me talking about my past in vague ways and everyone going very cool mare go read some ao3 fic now and save us the favor. maybe it’s kind of both depending on the time.
i’m really happy that i’m alive. but i’m more happy that i got to be alive with myself, you know? it’s so, so lovely that i get to exist in the same time as you. it’s also really lovely i get to exist in the same time as myself.
#nightmare.personal#long post#sorry i have. i have a lot of feelings about this.#as you can tell clearly#i'm gonna just. post this and watch some youtube videos#i'll let you guys know what redacted state is like once i'm back from the trip and not actively like in it#for safety reasons obviously
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I just wanna talk about how blind I was about my lesbianism. My comphet pals, my shot to you!
1- I used to read a lot NaLu fanfics when I was 14-15 on Wattpad (don't blame me, I was bored and delulu (I still am)).
There were always those being-in-love things description, especially butterflies and I was staring at my screen thinking "wow that's bullshit, I don't feel any of this about my crush." Of course when I first got a conscious crush on a girl, it turns out any of this was bullshit- these butterflies, man-
2- Basically, no one ever explain med to me what romantically loving smb means. So younger me, who had been told multiple by guys how ugly she was, thought thinking often about some mid boy who didn't treat them like crap was love (lmao)
3- I used to pick crushes during elementary school. "Oh, he's pretty, that means I now love him", "Now I'm gonna love him!"
4- I was exagerrating my fictional male """crushes"""(I thought they were cool) because I apparently was hyped enough
5- I thought I couldn't blush about love- For context, I'd almost never turned red outside of when I was lacking air and I'm somehow black (in my one of those light-skin carribean that are in fact mixed with everyone on that earth but mostly africans) since blk ppl don't blush that has my head messed-up.
But in junior year, my friend was making fun of me about the girl I was smitten with and she yelled "OMG you're blusing!". Here was the moment I realized my cheeks had this ability...
6- I didn't get why ppl (men-lover girls) would get crazy over yaoi/bl but def got it about yuri/gl (bfr)
7- At 13, I once asked myself how can gay men not being attracted to women... but never have I ever reversed that question for lesbians
8- I stared at lingeries ads/posters but rolled my eyes and feel sick at any image of man's 6 packs
9- I liked the idea of having boyfriend (I mean by that havung smb in love with) but whenever I tried to picture life together that would stress me out and gimme distgust
10- I never felt anything when I kissed my ex-boyfriend I was apparently in love with but after all this time I still remember the sensations after the first two girls I kissed. I even spent hours with a butterfly in my stomach about one of them even though all my feelings for her were entirely platonic!
11- I first rejected my ex-boyfriend but two days later I had made-up feelings in my head bc as middle-ugly person I was so flattered smb was finally interested in me and didn't to waste my only chance to be in relationship.
Turns out I was into his girl bsf the whole time
12- I prefer the guy pov in romance stories bc it was "mOrE iNtErEsTiNg AnD iT hAs SmTh MoRe"
13- When I tried to write romance I always made the guy fall first but I had to drop them bc I couldn't get the girl to love him back, I didn't know how to- (help)
I now am completed multi sapphic fanfics writer
14- I was unable to explain why I like this or that guy outside of "he is nice and pretty" (which weren't even true) Meanwhile, I easily wrote those +400 words long poetic text about that girl who friendzoned me and that love inspires to write a 120k words romance novel
15- I kinda like fanservice for the boobas
Btw, I'm asexual so even more confusion lol
#comphet#lesbian#wlw post#nmlnm#sapphic writing#story time#ace lesbian#lgbtq community#fairy tail nalu#fanfic authors#coming out
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THIS POST HAS A TRIGGER WARNING, DEPRESSION AND LIFE IN GENERAL
Normally I ramble on these, and wow two posts in a short while, that's crazy for me. But I really don't know what to think anymore. I mentioned before going on a date, that date never happened, she got called into work that day, and I spent several hours hoping she'd get off work for the date but she didn't in time for the movie. Now she barely talks, and I get it, she's working and has a entirely different schedule then I do.
Starting a new paragraph so I don't keep on that subject. Anyway I have been trying hard to get my life under control, been trying to save up money, lose weight and overall be more happy, none of that is happening, and I'm to tired all the time to try to fix it. My mental health has always been really poor, what with my non-existent self esteem and self deprecating nature.
Now to get to the meat of this post, the reason I am making it. Like many others in this world, I am depressed, it's not a self diagnosis, it's been diagnosed by a few therapists. Each one I've been to has been just trying to shove pills down my throat, instead of listening to what I was saying.
I don't really have any friends, my nearest one is in a different state and barely ever talks to me, and while I call them friends, the other people I talk to online are just faceless words and voices with no real reason to care about me other then the fact that I joined their group online.
I don't even know why I made this post, and I'm gonna post it regardless cause I guess this is my one, and only platform where no one knows me, which means I can be myself without putting on a mask to hide how I truly feel. Before anyone asks or says anything, no I'm not going to off myself, I know the impact that has on families, and I respect mine to much to do that to them.
This won't be my last post on this app, but it'll be the last one that'll be this long. I can't make another one this long, or longer than this one. And especially not about this topic, my own helplessness as I spiral further down depression. Cause if I did, I don't know if I could hold back any more.
Now this was a heavy post, and I can't sleep despite being up for over 17 hours, so I am gonna see if anyone in the groups I'm in wants to voice call on discord while I make my way through a game. Till next time peoples of Tumblr, have a good day or good night depending on where you are.
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