#AND HOW WELL HE ACCIDENTALLY MADE ALL THIS HAPPEN

[aangelinakii]

SAYING SOMETHING STUPID.

— and then you go and spoil it all.

summary : you and jason have been dating for a year, and although both of you know it, neither of you have said the dreaded L word. what happens when, accidentally, the truth comes out?

note : technically zimtsterne are christmas cookies so pretend like this is a christmas time fic

despite the countless beatings he took each and every night, jason's forearm was already beginning to ache. you had him whisking egg whites until they looked like snowy mountains, but not too mountainous, you'd said.

"where did you find this recipe again?" he hummed, not wanting to take his eyes off the bowl he was attempting to whisk at a flash-speed. beside him at the counter, of which he'd stepped away from to allow you more space, you were mixing ground almonds, cinnamon and powdered sugar into a dough. "what even is a zim— zimt—"

"zimtsterne."

"yeah, that."

"i found it online," you responded, barely taking your eyes off your almost-mixture. once jason would whisk the egg whites into soft peaks, you'd add half to your dough and it would be ready to cut into star shapes.

"online?" jason snickered, bumping your hip lightly with his. "you heard it on that game you play, didn't you? what was it again... choices?"

before you could get a handle on yourself, your eyes rolled almost back into your head. at this, you whipped your head over your shoulder to cast a very meaningful look to your boyfriend. "i only play it to get diamonds. i don't even use them, i just want to reach ten thousand just in case."

"how many do you have now?" he asked in return, looking back down at his white foamy mixture.

with a soft munch on the gum of your cheek, you turned back to your own bowl sheepishly. "more than ten thousand."

from behind, jason's warm laugh hummed through the kitchen. soft footsteps approached from behind, and his broad figure ghosted against your back. at once, a muscular arm, as well as his bowl, came into your vision. "this good enough?"

in the bowl, much faster than you would've been able to, jason had whisked the three egg whites cracked in there into soft peaks, leaving a little fluffy curl when you pulled the metal whisk out of the mixture. "perfect!" you grinned in return, taking the bowl in your own hands and scooping half the egg whites into what you'd so far made from the ground almonds.

watching you scoop and mix, scoop and mix, jason leaned back against the counter, hands resting on the edge, the veins pronounced on the back of the hand he'd used to whisk. "you're not gonna ask me to do any more whisking, are you?"

a soft chuckle brushed past your lips as you placed the bowl of egg whites back on the counter, and resumed stirring the zimtsterne mixture. "not today, you lucky boy," which earned an uncertain smile from jason.

"i liked that," he hummed bashfully.

"what, being lucky boy?"

jason gave an uncharacteristic laugh, his body swaying slightly against the counter. "maybe."

when you'd started dating, jason todd had never been an outwardly affectionate type; it took a few months for him to finally be willing to hold your hand in public. he was so used to suppressing his feelings, his affections, that it was certainly a challenge to get him to unlearn certain behaviours. now, a good year in, jason was getting more and more comfortable being the person he truly was.

still, at times, you weren't used to that person, hidden under years of trauma and dirt and grit.

but here he was, presenting himself to you in his cupped hands.

with a laugh matching his own, you paused your stirring for a moment to look up at him. "no more whisking, but i need you to get a tray, put a piece of parchment paper on it, and sprinkle some powdered sugar on the counter."

obedient like a dog gone soft, you could hear the clashing of pots and pans and opening and closing of cupboards behind you, until the cooking tray was placed on the counter beside your bowl, where the batter was coming along nicely.

jason tore off a square bit of parchment paper, and lay it upon the tray, where the corners curled, but otherwise stayed on, then he peeled open the bag of powder sugar. "how much do i put?" he asked, glancing over at you, hand hovering above the flour.

"not too much just yet, but we'll probably have to add more later."

and so his hand disappeared into the bag, and when it reappeared, he sprinkled a good serving of sugar along the countertop.

"perfect," you hummed once again. "next what we're gonna do is take the batter and press it down, then use the star cut-outs."

"we have to put our hands in that?" jason groaned, although playfully, you knew.

with a casual shrug, you began digging your hand into the zimtsterne mixture and pulled out a chunk to roll into a ball in your palms. "i mean, i could always do it by myself — if baking is too difficult for you."

a massive shoulder came into view, and jason's hand dunked into the bowl. "hell no! i can bake."

eyes closely watching the movement of your hands, jason rolled the amount of dough into a ball between his palms. then, once you'd placed your dough on the powdered sugar, pressed it down with the heel of your palm, jason followed suit.

you reached across the counter for the small star cutter, and sunk it down into the dough. "and... there! it's a little cinnamony star."

despite the grit and sheer size of him, in your company, jason todd was small, all soft touches and blush along cheeks.

as you carefully placed your star atop the parchment paper, jason took the small metal cutter in his calloused fingers, skilled in pulling the trigger.

he was careful as he pushed the cutter into the dough, glancing over at you a couple times as though he were doing something wrong.

somehow reading his mind, you reached over, hands placing them atop of his, spreading them in the muck of the dough you'd made, though jason didn't seem to mind; he'd had worse on his hands. "you're doing great," you smiled softly. "to get a clean cut you need to shake it a bit now."

and, with a laugh, your grip on jason's hands tightened slightly, and you helped jiggle the star cutter, separating his little biscuit from the rest of the dough, which you could reuse for another zimtsterne star.

a breath brushing past your ear, jason gave that kind, boyish laugh, and when you glanced over your shoulder, his eyes had halved into crescents, little moon shining down on the kitchen. "this is the strangest thing i've ever done."

perpetual smile by his side, you pulled away and tore the remaining dough from around the cookie cutter, pressing it into a sugared mound to be used again. "put that one next to my star on the tray," you ordered, although kind. "i'm gonna put more sugar down."

with ginger movements, jason lay his dough zimtsterne star down upon the parchment paper, a few inches from the one you'd made. eyeing him for a moment, to make sure his biscuit was far enough away from yours, you dunked your hand into the pink bag of icing sugar.

with a soft smile you made a nice comment on jason's placement; he was just about to reply when everything went white.

it must've caught through the gaps in your fingers while you weren't looking, must've been more than you'd meant to grab, for the powdered sugar hit the sleek countertop, and jumped back up in a whisp.

jason donned a white tuft of hair in his raven normally, but when the sugary fog began to clear, you could barely tell where the original streak ended and where it began.

your powder-covered hand shot to your agape mouth. "holy— that was an accident, i swear!"

his emerald eyes blinked open, sending some more snow-white dust into the air as it bounced off his eyelashes.

in one swift swoop, jason reached up to his blizzard of hair, and stretched out his hand over your face. you didn't need a mirror to know you probably looked like a snowman slapped you — but this action only caused room for ammunition, your dropped jaw setting and clenching as you pulled your arm back and launched.

the remnants of icing sugar in your palm exploded through the air, and whatever didn't land on the floor or counter (and most of the parchment paper) certainly his jason.

you could see in the way he lurched forward, but halted himself, that he was purposely holding back; you'd seen the way he would react when dick or tim tried to one-up him at the dinner table at the wayne family dinners you'd been brought to, or when training. his instincts are primal.

but, beneath the avalanche of icing sugar, his lips thinned. letting out a small sigh, jason shook his head, sending powdered sugar down onto the counter, where you could make your next zimtsterne star.

he gave a joking scoff. "you should be grateful i love you, or else this whole kitchen would be white."

it was a one-off sentence, supposed to be casual as he took the mound of dough in his hand to press flat against the monstrosity of sugar on the countertop. but it caused you to freeze, right in your place, hand gripping the edge of the counter falling slack.

jason hadn't seemed to notice.

he continued palming the dough until it was flat, but thick enough to be carved into a star, and reached for the cutter, content smile etched into his white powdery face.

"what did you say?"

your voice, however, was small.

even after a year now, neither of you had said the words he just had; you knew he had issues with attachment and relationships, so you supposed it just had never crossed your mind that he would... love you.

jason glanced up casually, shaking the star-shaped cookie cutter and placing down the new biscuit on the tray with the others. "oh, i was just saying that you're lucky, because if you were timothy drake, it would be over."

"no, no, you didn't say that." two steps forward, small, uncertain, but curious, aching to hear it again, make sure you weren't dreaming.

you placed a hand on his elbow, urging him to turn and look at you, which left a snowy handprint along his flesh. once he had carefully pushed the dough onto the tray, he placed the metal cut-out back on the counter and turned. "maybe not verbatim, but that's what i meant."

seeing the urgent look in your eyes, his smile faltered, but the lines it had made remained in the sugar.

"you said... you said you love me."

as the words left your lips, jason's eyes widened, and his body shuddered as if to stagger away from you, but your grip on his elbow tightened and didn't allow him.

"jason, is that true?"

beneath the powdered sugar, his bottom lip gave a tremour. "i... i guess i did say that."

your thumb brushed carefully over the bone of his elbow. "it's okay if it's true, i just want to know." trying to convince him he was safe — that you were safe — your voice softened, and you forced your body out of its initial shock.

but he didn't respond, only lips thinning, stare remaining still, like he'd been caught out on a really bad lie.

"i think so," he mused quietly, almost... afraid?

instinctively, your grip tightened once more upon his elbow, and you leaned in, eyebrows raised, a smile widening by the moment. "you love me?" it was spoken more like a song, more like it were an accomplishment than a question.

jason's bottom lip quivered, and when he spoke he sounded rather shaky, but he put on a brave, sugar-covered face. "is there– is there a problem with that?"

not minding the powder on your hands — and you hoped he wouldn't either — you leapt forward, engulfing his tough frame with a hug so tight it was possible all the knots in his back unwound at your touch. jason stumbled back, one sugared arm finding the small of your back and the other taking hold of the counter's edge to stabilise him.

sugar dusted itself along his breastbone, where you pressed your face into him. "oh, i didn't want to scare you away, or say anything i shouldn't," you began, voice extraordinarily muffled, until you pulled away to finish, gazing into his eyes, the only colour besides white on his face. "but i love you, jason. i really, really love you."

feeling suddenly shy at your sudden confession, your fingers toyed absently with the fabric of jason's once-black shirt, and your teeth sank awkwardly into your bottom lip.

but jason didn't hide away; he didn't contort into fear or anger. instead, his body sunk into yours, a warmth comparible to that of the pre-heated oven behind you. any uncertainty in those brilliant eyes of his seeped out through the corners, creating a coccoon of watery sugar beneath his lashes.

one of your hands came away from his back, and lay itself upon his cheek. an equally as powdery thumb swiped carefully beneath his eye — jason didn't even flinch.

all he could think was how stupid he was to have ruined the moment, not even thinking as he spoke, but also that he had finally admitted it out loud, and that you had reciprocated without any semblance of hesitation.

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[millieisawriter]

Oh, baby

arthur morgan x reader

summary: arthur being a sweet baby daddy, even if you aren't as optimistic

wc: 2k

tw: accidental/unwanted pregnancy

all pics taken from pinterest

based on this request

a/n: yeeeehaw finally back from my break

Getting pregnant wasn’t ever something you planned nor wanted to happen. Hooking up with Arthur, you were aware of the possible consequences. Both of you were, but the consequences aren’t something you thought about during the heat of the moment. And now you were living with them. Suffering through them.

Meanwhile Arthur didn’t seem so upset.You supposed you were somewhat lucky he was the one that got you pregnant, he wasn’t running off or pretending it wasn’t happening. But his optimism was starting to piss you off. From the day you had told him, he’s been attentive, caring, and a little happier. He wasn’t that grumpy guy the gang had known anymore. Now, he had a reason to be happy, perhaps even to live.

“Brought you somethin’.”

Arthur’s voice cut through the spiraling thoughts in your head as you sat alone by the fire. No bottle nor a cigarette in your hand, as it would’ve usually been. Now you had to be careful.

You looked at Arthur as he sat down beside you on the log. “What’s that?” You muttered as he handed you a small brown paper package.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Open it and see.”

You frowned, but curiosity got the best of you and your fingers ripped the paper. Inside, there was a blanket. A new one, not stolen. It was neatly folded, soft, and warm. For the baby.

Your stomach twisted. The moment your fingers brushed over the fabric, it all felt even more real. As if it hadn’t already been real enough. And this wasn’t even the first thing Arthur had bought. If things were different, maybe you’d be happy. If you were different. But you weren’t. You didn’t want any of this.

“You keep buying all these things,” you said.

Arthur replied as if that was the most obvious thing. “Somebody has to think ahead.”

“And that somebody is you?”

“Well, I’m the father.”

You scoffed and shoved the blanket back at him. “Yeah, well, I don’t want it.”

“Ain’t for you,” he shot back, his tone softening when he realized he shouldn’t have snapped back so harshly, “it’s for the baby.”

You stood up. It’s been baby this and baby that for the past few months. No wonder it was starting to get on your nerves. “I can’t wait until this,” you gestured at your stomach, “is finally over so I can go get shitfaced.”

Arthur didn’t smirk, knowing it wasn’t a joke. He didn’t even reply, not having the words. He tried, he really tried to help you warm up to the idea. There wasn’t much he could do. He had searched for solutions to make your problem disappear. Doctors had the skills and tools to help you out, but the problem was it wasn’t legal. Doctors were scared of helping ordinary people in that matter, let alone outlaws wanted in many states with bounties bigger than the money you’ve ever made.

“I just… I hate this, Arthur,” you admitted finally, “I hate feeling slow. Weak. I hate the way y’all look at me like I ain’t me no more.”

Arthur stood up as well. Looking down at your face, he saw how glassy your eyes were. You didn’t want to cry, you were fighting it. “Ain’t nobody thinks you’re weak,” Arthur tried to assure you.

You scoffed. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you don’t see it. The way the gang treats me like I’m fragile. Like I ain’t spent the last few years robbing and shooting and killing right beside y’all.”

“Difference is, now you don’t live just for yourself.”

Arthur paused, and so did you. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. The kind of silence that made the night around you feel overwhelming. You wished you could run, run away from all your problems.

Arthur continued, “I know this ain’t what you wanted. I know you’re scared—”

“I ain’t scared.”

But you knew he was right. You were scared, you had no idea how to be a mother. This had never been in the cards for you. You were an outlaw first, a woman second. And now, you were going to be a mother first.

Arthur let out a breath slowly. “Ain’t a crime to be scared,” he said, “hell, I’m scared too. But we can deal with this, you have me. Me and everyone else in this gang.”

“I don’t know how to do this, Arthur,” you muttered, your voice low.“I don’t wanna do this. I ain’t no mother material, and you ain’t exactly cut out to be a father either.”

Well, that hurt, but you had no idea about his past, about Isaac. The day Isaac and Eliza died, Arthur promised to himself that if he gets another chance, he’ll do better. And maybe you were his another chance.

“I tried,” Arthur sat back down on the log, his elbows on his knees as he stared into the dying fire, “tried to find someone, a doc, a midwife, someone who could help you. Ain’t no one who’d do it, not for us. Not for you. They’re scared to do it for normal folk, we can’t even dream of it.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it without a word. You swallowed, despite your mouth being suddenly dry. There really was no way out.

You sat down next to Arthur, closer than ever, so close your legs touched. The thing that really got to you was that he had tried. That he had gone looking, knowing well that helping you meant getting rid of something he clearly wanted to keep. Something that was important to him.

“Why?” You asked suddenly.

Arthur turned to look at you. “Why what?”

“Why did you try to help me?”

“Cause I care about you.”

Your throat tightened, and you hated it. You weren’t supposed to cry. Not over this. Not over him.

He continued. “I ain’t gonna pretend I don’t want this kid. I do. But I ain’t the one who’s gotta carry the burden, and I sure as hell ain’t the one who’s gotta go through all this. You are.”

You sniffed and looked away. “Well, ain’t no fixing it now, I guess.”

“No,” the man nodded slowly.

There was silence again, but now just a bit more comfortable. You could hear the soft hum of the night, a distant owl, the fire crackling in front of you, the wind dancing with the leaves. Maybe this wasn’t going to be that bad.

“Now,” Arthur gave your knee a light squeeze as he pushed himself to his feet, “you eaten yet?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I have. That thing makes me eat everything in sight.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at you, his gaze telling you he didn’t exactly believe your words.

You huffed. “Okay. I haven’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Sit here for a moment.”

He turned around to bring you something to eat. Something he got in town, something that wasn’t Pearson’s stew.

And you weren’t going anywhere. You hadn’t moved from your place at the fire for the past few hours. That was how most of your days looked lately. From time to time, someone else would join you, but the more pregnant you were, the more snappy you were. At some point it became easier to leave you alone.

“Eat,” Arthur ordered as he gave you some bread, cheese, and an apple. Then, he reached into his satchel to take out a chocolate bar.

It was a lovely gesture. The food wasn’t some fancy dinner, but not like you expected anything fancy. Fancy isn’t a thing when it comes to any aspect of the outlaw life. The food was simple, but better than whatever was floating in Pearson’s stew.

“Thank you.”

You bit into the bread first, interchangeably taking bites of the cheese. Then, not having fully swallowed the cheese yet, you opened the chocolate and took a few bites. And later on you finished it off with the apple.

You didn’t deserve that kind of understanding. Arthur had wanted this baby. He was probably excited, dreaming about a future you couldn’t bring yourself to imagine. Even if he himself would deny it, you knew he deserved better.

Out of a sudden, you asked, “Why ain’t you mad at me?”

Arthur frowned. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because I don’t want this, and you do. I’ve been a pain in the ass to everyone, you included.”

“You have every right to be like this. Your body isn’t yours anymore. I’d be mad as hell if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur was so understanding it made you nauseous. You wanted to hit him and cuddle into him at the same time.

Then, you felt something. As you threw the apple core into the fire, you felt a weird sensation in your belly. Some shifting, pressing from the inside. Then, a sharp kick.

“What the hell?” You hissed, looking down at the curve of your belly.

Arthur straightened immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It just kicked me,” your hands went to your stomach, fingers pressing against the spot, feeling the kick again. “You want me to throw you a real punch, little bastard?”

You heard Arthur laugh. His laughter was genuine, probably for the first time ever.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if a baby was trying to kick its way out of your guts, Arthur.” You groaned, rubbing a hand over your belly. Another kick made you jolt slightly. It wasn’t something you were used to, the baby didn’t kick before. “Keep that up and I’ll— ouch!”

Arthur’s laughter died down, and now he was just smiling as he leaned in. He hesitated before saying, “Lemme feel.”

You looked at him with disbelief. “What?”

“The baby. Lemme feel the kicks.”

You sighed, eyeing him for a moment before grabbing his wrist and placing his hand on your belly. His touch was warm, but soft. When you let go of his wrist, his hand practically hovered millimeters above your skin as if he were scared of pressing too hard.

For a second, there was nothing. You were about to tell him to forget it when another kick landed right against his hand. Arthur stilled completely. You could see his face firstly flash with a surprise, which soon switched into a smile. He looked damn near mesmerized.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, eyes focused on where his hand rested.

You could see it in his face, how much this meant to him. It was strange, seeing Arthur Morgan like that. He looked younger somehow, hopeful in a way you hadn’t seen the whole time you knew him.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat. “Told you. Little shit’s got an attitude already.”

Arthur grinned. “Must take after you.”

You looked at the man as he kept his attention on your stomach. Nobody was arguing, nobody was scheming, nobody was running from the law. Just the two of you sitting there, Arthur’s palm resting against your stomach, feeling the proof of the thing that had turned your whole damn world upside down.

After a while, he finally broke the silence. “You ever think maybe this don’t gotta be as bad as you think?”

You didn’t answer right away, because, yeah, you had thought about it. Not in a hopeful way, not in the way Arthur had, but in a tired, resigned sort of way. You weren’t getting rid of it. You weren’t running from it. Whether you liked it or not, this was happening.

Then, suddenly, all you said was, “We can’t let the baby become like us.” And your voice finally carried a softness that wasn’t there for the past few months.

Arthur smiled, finally pulling his hand away. “We won’t.”

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-eight: The Weight of Silence

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 28 | next

Series Masterlist

The world moved on.

The guests at the masquerade spoke of the Panther Mask in hushed tones for no longer than a night. By morning, his name was nothing more than a fleeting thought, an unspoken reminder of what happened to those who stepped out of line.

No one asked where he had gone.

No one wanted to know.

You sat in front of the vanity in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the dim light. The space was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ventilation system, the faint sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs outside. Your mask lay discarded on the counter beside you, a cracked reminder of the night before. The adrenaline had long since faded, but the memory of the Panther’s grip on you still lingered like a bruise beneath your skin.

He was gone. You knew that much. But the how—the when—the where—those were things you weren’t sure you wanted the answers to.

The faucet dripped. A slow, steady rhythm. You focused on that sound, grounding yourself in the monotony of it, in the certainty that water would keep falling, that the world would keep moving, regardless of what had just happened.

A soft creak of the bedroom door beyond the bathroom made you stiffen slightly. You already knew who it was.

A moment later, the bathroom door pushed open, and In-ho stepped inside.

His mask was off.

That alone made your breath catch in your throat. He never removed it, not unless he wanted something to be understood without words. His face was as unreadable as ever, his expression set in careful neutrality. But there was something in his eyes—something dark, something lingering.

You swallowed. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

It wasn’t really a question.

In-ho exhaled through his nose, stepping further into the space. He didn’t lean against the counter, didn’t sit. Instead, he simply looked at you, as if measuring something.

“He won’t bother you again,” he said finally.

Your fingers curled slightly against your lap. A confirmation, then. You hadn’t expected him to lie, but something about the finality of it made your chest feel tight. You weren’t sure what you had expected to feel. Relief? Fear? Satisfaction?

Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “What did you do with him?”

A long silence. Then—

“I erased him.”

That was all he said.

Erased.

Not killed. Not disposed of.

Erased.

The word sent a chill down your spine.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what happened to people who crossed the wrong line in places like this. But there was something about the way In-ho said it—so calm, so absolute—that made it feel different. He hadn’t just removed the Panther from the equation. He had ensured there was nothing left of him. No name. No body. No story.

Gone.

You exhaled slowly, fingers tightening against the fabric of your robe. “Good.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Approval, maybe. Or something else. Something you couldn’t quite name.

He stepped closer then, stopping just a breath away. His presence was heavy, grounding, suffocating all at once. His hand lifted—hesitated—before he slowly, deliberately brushed his fingers along your jaw. The touch was barely there, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you held his gaze. “I’m not.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

His thumb ghosted over your chin, the touch so light it could have been mistaken for accidental. But it wasn’t. Nothing In-ho did was accidental. He was testing something, watching for a reaction.

You weren’t sure what he found.

Seconds stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. Then, just as easily as he had touched you, he pulled away. The warmth of his hand disappeared, leaving behind only the cold weight of silence.

His expression remained unreadable, his mask of indifference settling back into place. “Get some rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, things will be different.”

You weren’t sure what he meant.

You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

But as he turned and left, as the soft click of the bedroom door closing echoed through the space, one thing became clear.

The Panther Mask was gone.

And nothing would ever be the same.

———————

Yippee chapter twenty eight!! Lemme know what you think!

Tag list

@sunny21200

@lucinda-reads

@shakysif

@whoisbriannaa

@allmylovegoestomusic

@swthrtbyeol

@strawberrychita

@hoddystark

@livelaughcelica

@foulbreadpaenut

@write-from-the-heart

@angelofthorr

@sylviavf

@missroro

@siloveyourmoms

@luv1ze

@audrey223

@khaylin27

@gay4hotmilfs

@mimis-u3u

@captainlunaxmen

@cdej6

@ritaaaz07

@chateaumarmontt

@eepgirls

@ushouldhmhas

@fedstv

@dahliawarner

@fyodorssimp1

@nanamilkbread

@eveie24

@jackbootedfucks

@maiznamai

@r3va-dwme

@queenjang21

@kyohiru

@bibliophile-yomna

@rylin0987654321

@aubs444

@isuejehejehe

@nellabear

@cassielovw

@lowkeyhottho

@yxluana

@riri53

@enhasrii

@dumbfishes

@jeonmochi99-blog

@corne1iast

@kunikuzushisbeloved

@blueeclipsepaperstudent

@luna-looniesblog

@kat-thepoet

@hanakokunzz

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 33 “Rear Cushion” [Episode List]

Dave has to hold back the loudness of his huge farts as he gets an important phone call from work while blasting Tim’s face.

POV: Tim

The cab dropped me a few blocks from my place: finally, a couple of more minutes and I could relax at home. This was a long day. Nothing ground-breaking or anything, as I simply had to meet a client downtown. It went well, no need to go into boring details, but I’m glad I know how to pilot drones and film stuff with them. Believe it or not, working as an editor for Greg’s porn films, of all things, gave me lots of experience. I’m not planning to become a film-maker, but I do like how this stuff works. Plus, and perhaps most importantly, it pays the bills, which is good.

Bills that I’m currently sharing with my bro and roommate Dave anyway. I wonder if he’s home: today he called in sick from work because he had to do some stuff with Dana -something related to them planning to move in together. From what he told me, it’s been a tough month, and often he ended up working overtime, so he really needed this one day to get some stuff done with his girlfriend.

It was evening, around 7:00 PM, the cold breeze scratching my face, with my eyes being spared thanks to my round glasses. I could spot our house: the lights were on. I do hope he is home, or else he’s gonna pay *those* bills by himself this time. 

Indeed, I passed by Dave’s car parked on the driveway, still warm, meaning that my friend probably got home mere minutes before me. I quickly put a halt to my detective work and opened the door, stepping into our living room / kitchen, being greeted by the warmth of our apartment, other than a firm “Yo!” from my roommate.

Dave walked past me and towards the couch, holding a sandwich, greeting me by making noises with his mouth as he took a big bite of his snack. 

“You didn’t even make me say ‘Honey, I’m home.”

I watched Dave lying down on the long couch, reaching for the laptop on the small table in front of it, as he put it on his chest, comically close to his face. Impressive how fast that sandwich got eaten up -he is a big eater after all, despite the tall, slim appearance.

“Because that’s my line.” he replied, his fingers tapping the buttons on the keyboard.

I hung my coat by the door and went into the kitchen to fetch a beer.

“I thought you called in sick.” I asked, as I opened the fridge, disappointed by the lack of alcohol.

“I did.” he said, the stern tone catching me off guard. “Such bullshit!”

He wasn’t mad at me obviously, probably some work-related issue, as it usually happens lately. 

I solved my own very important issue with the fridge instead by settling for a soda, because my body may be a temple, but most temples are old and crumbling so I’m just very committed to the role.

As I walked towards the couch, Dave (eyes glued on the screen) automatically moved his legs just a bit to make room for me. Another sign that he came back a few minutes ago was that he was still wearing, well, casual clothes, precisely a yellow hoodie and a pair of bright blue jeans (and grey socks -he left his sneakers by the door). Since I’m a kinky asshole, I did notice that he was accidentally showing off his sort-of-sagging denim ass towards me, but I easily ignored that by focusing on the soda and the TV. 

Even though he wasn’t angry at me, I didn’t want to annoy him by asking more questions about the job, especially considering the furious tapping I was hearing, so I simply, and silently, took a sip of my not-beer.

“It’s because of Fisher by the way.” Dave said, his face hidden behind the laptop.

“Again?!” I replied. “You did tell me he was making a mess like… 2 days ago.”

“And guess who’s trying to fix the mess he made at 7:30 PM.”

Another episode of my bro working overtime, ladies and gentleman.

Dave also rarely works from home, so I don’t usually get to see how he acts in those situations. The rare times it happened I noticed he switches to a serious man of few words. He still is chill and all, just rightfully focused on whatever task he’s working on.

Whatever happened made him really angry however, as I heard the keyboard almost beg for mercy under all that furious tapping. That’s Dave: when he gets really mad, he actually goes silent. One of those men, yes.

I just remained there, chilling and watching the TV, enjoying my soda, though a beer would have been better in case this wasn’t clear. Occasionally, my friend would occasionally mumble some insults towards the screen or, better yet, to this Fisher guy, a man he complained about to us in the last few days, something that he almost never does. Dave is very easy-going as you know, and very very patient (exhibit A: me), but push the right buttons and he will get mad at you.

“Sorry about all the tapping.” he suddenly said, after like 10 minutes of silence, still focused on the screen. “I can go upstairs if that��s bothering you.” 

“It’s fine bro.” I replied. “I’ve already seen this movie anyway.”

“Yeah the news are wild these days.”

I found it funny how Dave tried to hold a casual conversation despite being so clearly distracted by whatever was happening at work (I don’t blame him). And speaking of which, I certainly didn’t want to distract him myself, so I didn’t reply.

“I mean it’s not like you’re not used to me making weird noises on this couch anyway.”

There he is, the teasing bastard.

I turned to him and I could see him narrowing his eyes and raising his eyebrows, the laptop screen hiding a cheesy smirk. So focused on his job, but will always take the chance to tease and make fun of me.

Which I will always be thankful for.

“…maybe I should go upstairs.” I said, in a deadpan tone.

Without halting all the typing and his focus on the screen, Dave’s casual, immediate answer made the couch shake: a huge fart, one of his usual, Dave-certified displays of flatulence, almost stock-sounding rips. A quick 4-seconds thunder, unusually (relatively) short for my friend’s standards, but loud and proud like it’s perfectly in-brand for him. 

The blast was followed by Dave snoffing from behind the laptop, very aware that his kinky roomate both loves and hates all this teasing.

“Weren’t you going upstairs?” he asked, trying not to laugh, as if nothing happened.

I mouthed a “fuck you” which he obviously couldn’t see. I stared at his denim now instead, the sagging making the ass look even bigger and more imposing in that position and from this angle. My dirty mind liked the view and how casual the pose was, farting like I wasn’t even there. And speaking of casual, you know it, Dave is as usual ridiculously chill with my kink and I’ll never thank him enough for this whole thing going on between us.

“Here’s what I think of Fisher.”

Dave then said, before ripping another huge rip, doing the classic leg-lift move in the process. He didn’t even look at me, still hiding behind the laptop, just farting as if I wasn’t sitting dangerously close to the source, like I said. Another “short” rip, as long as the previous one, and just as loud, if not more.

My friend’s farts are usually as loud as they are long, but I was definitely enjoying this barrage of quick blasts. Then again, when it comes to Dave’s farts, the term “short” is like describing a nuclear explosion as “kind of noisy”.

Naturally, the scent of those quickies reached my nose and engulfed the entire room. My bro’s farts are always big but not as stinky as one may expect. Don’t get me wrong, your nostrils will burn, but they’re not as hard on the nose as they sound… most of the times. 

One thing that was hard, however, was my cock, unsurprisingly reacting to my friend’s talent.

“Alright, done.” Dave said, stretching his right arm to clumsily put the laptop on the small table in front of the couch. “I hope Fisher gets hit by an asteroid tonight.” 

I silently toasted to his understandable wish and took another sip of my soda. My bro was now lying on the couch, legs up, without anything hiding his smirk, the smirk that proved how him showing off his denim sagging ass in my direction was not a coincidence this time. I tried to ignore that, but it was getting very difficult, especially considering that, knowing his skills, the blasts were far from being over.

I kept myself distracted by doing literally anything else than staring, such as putting the empty soda can on the floor by the couch.

“So, you’re done working?” I managed to ask.

He cackled in response to that. 

“Sort of. Got one last job to do.” he said, a cheesy grin drawn on his face.

“What do you m- oh… of course.”

I understood mid-sentence what he meant. The fact that he leaned towards me to reach for my head and pull it down and close to his denim ass being a big clue. I didn’t even try to resist, and I let his hand push my face in front of his butt, Dave’s legs spreading a bit more to once again make room for me -my entire head, in this case. The scent from his previous farts was strong and the ass was warm; the seams and textures of his jeans were always a pleasure to look at, the rough surface tickling the tip of my nose. 

As usual, when Dave gets gassy, my face ends up planted straight into the source of his farts, even though I didn’t ask for it. I don’t know if he did that on purpose, but I was positioned in a way that while most of my view was obscured by his overwhelming ass, I could still see part of my friend’s face, staring down at me, with a smirk. I love when it happens: experiencing one of Dave’s farts so up close and personal while still managing to see that damn smirk (or his other facial expressions) only makes the whole experience even hotter for me.

And hotter it became, not just figuratively, as Dave’s ass soon greeted with another huge blast. Was it stronger than the previous two or did my face being glued to his denim-clad anus made it feel like it was? Either way, it was huge and loud, a standard “Dave rip”, and getting those in my face is something I’ll never get used to. It definitely was longer than the previous farts, about 7 seconds, which only made the smell worse in the process. My bro wasn’t even holding my head anymore, but I didn’t want to move, nor he was surprised that I didn’t.

After he was finished he adjusted his position, so he could see my face better and make fun of me being a kinky mess as usual, while I was completely dazed by his talent.

“Remember when you apologized for the tapping?” I joked.

I made my friend laugh, which I guess is the only way I can somehow return the incredible kinky favor.

“Good times.” he joked back.

My head was still facing his ass, but admittedly it was getting awkward. Dave probably noticed that I was moving away and promptly used his left leg to trap me.

“I’m not gonna apologize for this, bro.” he said, clearly brewing another big one. “…Ready?”

And ready I was, bracing myself for the impact, but the noise I heard was not what I was expecting.

“Fuck!” I heard Dave say, reacting to that same noise.

I saw his right arm reaching for his smartphone, next to the laptop he put there moments ago.

“Fisher?! Really?!” he commented, as he saw the name of the person calling.

I remained there, now things getting awkward for real.

Again I tried to move away, and again my bro made sure I couldn’t.

“Hold on, I gotta take this one.” he said, with the silliest smirk you can imagine. “In the meantime, you can take this one instead.”

A huge rip suddenly blasted my face, just as Dave answered with a surprisingly calm and professional “Hello?”. The fart lasted like 3 seconds but it was probably the baddest one so far, in terms of sound and stench.

“Nooo Fisher, not bothering me at all.” 

I saw and heard Dave resisting the urge to tell this guy to fuck off, and he confirmed that he was lying but winking at me as he continued his ass-licking: after all, Fisher was actually one of his superiors. Not judging however, I’d do the same, and truth to be told, with my face being engulfed in Dave’s gas, you could say that I am doing the same right now, sort of.

As my friend seemed particularly into that phone call, I tried to move one more time, but Dave promptly used his left foot to step on my head and hold me there. Now my nostrils were being tortured not just by Dave’s gas, but also his smelly sock soiling my hair.

So, as long as I’m staying down there, with Dave’s foot firmly holding me still, I simply stared at that wall of denim in front of me; despite the anus being silent, the stench was still kind of unbearable. I know I just said that my bro’s rips do not stink as much as one may think, but when you fart this much and this often, of course one is gonna reach their breaking point, even a kinky guy like me.

“Mh… okay. I see. What did Johnson said?”

I laughed. Dave having this super serious work call while literally holding his farts in was actually hilarious. I managed to look at his face and he was like I wasn’t even there, a calm, assertive man just doing his job. He did look at me for a moment though, trying not to laugh, and winked at me again, fully aware of how ridiculous the whole thing was.

“Sure Fisher, by Tuesday we’ll be ready.”

As Dave said that, I noticed his facial expression changing. He was pushing one out… but since I wasn’t getting blown away, I guess he was pushing this one out in a way that he could somehow control how loud it was gonna be. After all, my bro is the fart master: he knows how to roar, but he also knows how to whisper, proving an incredible talent when it comes to literally controlling his farts’ loudness, length and pitch. 

And those weren’t even on command!

As Dave’s foot kept me in place, the fart that came out was as big as the others, but in a different way. My friend was probably worried (more amused than worried, actually) that Fisher could actually hear his infamous loud farts through the phone, which is not very professional admittedly… and for some reason he also wanted to torture me with his gas. So, the fart master decided to somehow “dilute” his fart into a sort of quieter, rumbly, bubbly long rip.

I could tell this rip was enormous, in spite of all those nerfs. It sounded like a muffled rip with many interruptions, like fire-crackers going off, without getting too loud however. Dave kept the conversation going, speaking about documents, files, coding and all that, his facial expression revealing how carefully he was pushing this one out, while still focusing on the call, without missing a beat. The whole scene was hot and amusing for both of us (well, just the second one for my bro).

This masterful rip was going to be long, even longer than Dave’s usual farts, which are already impressive. I didn’t know if I could edge any longer, as my boner twitched every time this peculiar long fart got surprisingly louder than expected.

10 seconds passed, the stench burning my nostrils and eyes, the fart still “cracking” through Dave’s warm denim and reaching my defenceless nose. I know my bro is good at this, but takes some incredible skills to control your farts like this, natural farts I mean. And such skills only made me harder.

“Yes Fisher, I ToTaLlY AgReE…” 

Dave raised his voice just a bit, anticipating his ass doing the same: a clumsy way to hide the sound of his giant fart from Fisher’s ears. As skilled as my friend is, trying to “dilute” such a huge rip this much and for this long was getting difficult even for a talented man like him. This “accident” only made him silently laugh however.

“Sure Fisher, whatever you say.”

Professionals have standards, you know the drill. And Dave being this professional from both ends was a sight to behold (and, well, sniff I guess). I forgot about my friend’s foot combing my hair and just lied there enjoying the noisy spectacle, the “fireworks” still going strong. Pre-cum erupted from my boner, I couldn’t take it anymore. This gassy bastard makes me cum without even touching me, it’s insane how hot he can get.

Worst (best?) of all, he’s completely aware of it.

After a whopping 56 seconds, the ass seemingly stopped emitting those fire-cracker noises. Despite the relative silence, my bro still made sure I didn’t move, which is something I didn’t even want to question at this point.

“Alright… no no it’s all good. See you tomorrow morning.”

A bit more paying lip service and finally… he hung up.

“Idiot.” he hissed, as he threw the phone on the small table.

I still remained there, my head under Dave’s foot and in the presence of his sagging ass, without questioning whether this was getting too weird or awkward.

“Are… are you finished?” I carefully asked.

“Yeah.” my friend said, with a smirk. 

I guess blasting me does put him in a good mood.

We’re both weird, no doubts about it.

“And that means I’m done holding back. Get ready.” he then added, threatening me with a good time.

If all of that was Dave “holding back”, then yeah, my bro’s skills are just as insane as they sound.

Without even giving me time to come up with a witty comeback, Dave finally raised his foot… only to have his hand take its place, pulling my face up and firmly planting it in his sagging denim ass. It felt warm and kind of sweaty, the jeans soaked into that stench caused by the almost 1-minute-long “fire-cracker” fart. 

How is it possible to be this gassy? A few seconds after my nose touched his ass, my friend started blasting my face again. Yet another loud fart, long and proud, probably what was left of the insane gas bubble from moments earlier, ‘cause that really sounded like his ass was tying up loose ends. As the fart kept going, Dave firmly, but gently, held my face into his ass, with the rip basically being shoved down my throat.

Finally, after 12 more seconds, this final thunder faded out, as Dave’s grip on my head loosened. My friend then (just as gently) pushed me away with his legs on my side of the couch; I was completely startled by all of that, one of the most insane fart sessions I ever had with my bro.

“Are you finished… now?” I asked again.

“ahah You’re lucky my shift is over.” he replied.

He then stood up and walked towards the kitchen, easily towering over me still sitting down on the couch. As if the gas-trail he was leaving behind wasn’t enough, he ripped another loud quickie as his ass passed near my face. I leaped back, not expecting, believe it or not, to fall for such an old trick.

“I thought you were done!”

In response, I heard my friend laugh from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, told you I’ve been working overtime lately!”

I took a deep breath, the air around me still heavily polluted by the power of my roommate’s ass, and carefully massaged the damp tent I pitched between my legs. I was gonna take care of that in the bathroom upstairs in a minute; I only wanted a bit more time to process those particularly strong rips… and if I should start paying Dave since face-farting is, apparently, his real job.

End of Episode 33

[gub-bins]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.

YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.

anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant

tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone

first and foremost:

curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)

i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.

as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)

but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.

while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!

i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.

unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.

being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!

[lordofmelancholy]

Arcane Silent Frontiers: Isha and Jinx's Relationship

Alright! Time for something new! The (tragic) Relationship between Isha and Jinx in Silent Frontiers

Now for those who read This (if you haven't go read it), you might have notice that I put down one of the inspirations for Isha's character in SF as not only just Ellie from The Last of Us but also Joel as well.

This is because, both Isha and Jinx take the "Joel" role in this AU; which is basically a fancy way of stating that both of them have major attachment issues stemming from trauma and apparent abandonment. Because of this, both Isha and Jinx actually don't get along to each other as quickly as they do in the show. The need to Bond is there, but Isha often finds it hard to gain attachments towards people following immense heartbreak in her life, and is in many ways similar to Jinx in this notion. However what should bring them together, instead makes it hard for them to do so. There's a pull of course that neither can understand, but it's a pull that tends to lead them both at the current time to face first into a wall. They have to break that wall and it's a process. Its literally has to build up. But with every build up, there can be an explosion which with Isha and Jinx happens.

Thus then comes the Isha (ellie) and Jinx (Joel) parallel Remember This Scene, in the first TLOU

Well. . .Jinx and Isha basically go through the same thing Despite the attachment issues, throughout the story of SF, Isha does end up getting close to Jinx much like she does in the show. This however is where it gets complicated for JINX because Jinx's whole thing IS the fear of getting close to someone in a world that tends to take them away too easy.

The only one she's EVER close to is Ekko. He's been her rock since they were kids. But anyone else doesn't get as close easily and it's just how she's been for years.

She's been so stuck in her ways that It honestly scared her how quickly she got attached to Isha she got and as a result her first instinct is to push away.

To not only protect others, but herself.

Jinx's biggest breaker in this whole thing was the fact that Isha once accidentally called her mama by mistake and Jinx's first instinct was to fear the word because she never expected it to make her feel good. It was what started the OG argument (similar to the one Joel and Ellie got into in the first game) and what had caused a small rift to form between the two of them, because Isha tried to get close but Jinx pushed back and thus Isha basically "gave up"

which she was actually starting to NOT DO because of Jinx.

Jinx ends up of course beating herself up over it later on down the line because she realizes how stupid she's actually been about all this. Realizing that Ekko was right, that everyone was right and even Isha was right about a lot of stuff. But her stupidity this time caused her to go and "Jinx" it cause it's obvious that Isha is distancing herself from JINX now and it's not the other way around

When what happens with Isha happens (basically what caused the events of the fic: Alone in this Platinum Field which can be found there in the link), Jinx is distraught over it because not only could she possibly loose Isha, but she'll also loose Isha at a point in time where there's a big chance that Isha hates her.

But the issue is, is even now Isha doesn't hate Jinx. And that's the sad part. Made even more sad with the fact that She never did, nor does she think she ever could

It's just that Isha's hurt

She's hurt because in the process of pushing her away, Jinx had also said things that just got Isha the wrong way

Because as we all know when Jinx is scared, Jinx can't shut up for shit and has to put her foot in her mouth.

Jinx never really leaves her side shortly after what happened. The issue with the field was something she couldn't avoid, it sucked but she couldn't. But after that she never strays too far. She's always close by. Always within reach. But while part of it is her just being observant, there's also another reason as to why.

She keeps trying to apologize

Every once in a while, sometimes in the dead of night, while everyone is asleep or at least trying to sleep. You could often hear whispers. Hushed sounds. And it's Jinx trying to talk to her. Trying to apologize. Shes trying to apologize because the thought that Isha is going to die with the thought of Jinx not caring in her head absolutely terrifies Jinx to no end now.

So every once in a while you'd hear a hushed apology. "'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it".

And sometimes when Isha's awake, at least long enough to actually hear those words somewhat, it would often seem like she would jump at the opportunity to accept it. To put it all behind them and forget about it all. But then she would get a look in her eye, as if she was remembering what exactly got said to her.

Playing it all back in her head.

and then Jinx would notice the sullen look. As if even now Isha couldn't bring herself even to forget. Or to forgive

But Jinx keeps trying to apologize.

And that's the sad part really in all this.

But what somehow makes it even worse. If that was even possible to begin with. Is the fact, that that's not the only thing Jinx tries to do. What she always seems to try despite it never working in the end.

She thinks the others don't hear her when she say's it. But they do. They always do. And it breaks their hearts to hear how desperate she sounds when she asks Isha to call her Mama once more.

Because they know the odds are slim now that she ever will. Not after everything.

But Jinx need's to hear her say it. She wants Isha to say it. Mouth it. Sign it. Garble Anything. Now more then anything

She doesn't care how Isha says it because at least if she does. At least if this is does turn out to be the end, Jinx can at least know and hold on to the warm feeling that Isha calling her Mama made her. Can hold on to that warmth at least for a while, just a little. Just long enough to help her cope with the fact that she may never get to hear it again if this truly is the end.

She hopes its not.

God she hopes its not

Because she still needs to make up for what she did.

So she's keep trying. As long as it takes. However long both her and Isha have left.

She knows she sounds selfish. Wanting Isha to say it now when there's a chance this might all be it. To say it now after pushing her away the way that she did. She knows it sounds selfish. Sounds cruel

She knows it probably is in some way. But its not. Really its not She's not being selfish nor is she trying to be cruel. Not really anyways. She just finally has come to accept something. Just a little too late. Just a little too much at the wrong time

But

"Just once. That's all. Call me mama again. Please just say it. Just once, that's all. You can say it. I wont be mad I promise…I won't just…-"

"Please?"

____

(Also as a added bonus in pain. Imagine Isha referring to Ekko as Papa by mistake when they make it back to the compound. They get her all fixed up for the time being and her being slightly drugged up for the pain, accidentally refers to Ekko as papa when he shows up to see them. Imagine being worried that she "did it again" and that she's going to be rejected by Ekko just like she was by Jinx. Imagine her being terrified of the potential rejection. Jinx did it, what's really stopping Ekko from doing it as well)

[forestofforever]

Etienne seemed to crumble as he looked at the man, tears welling up in his eyes. "Heart...I...I thought... I thought I'd never see you again." He sobbed, unable to stop this emotional response. He was so happy to see this man, even if he didn't quite understand why.

The man slowly approached Etienne, one hand reaching up to cup his face. "Oh my, I am not used to you showing quite so much emotion... but then again, you are not quite... you, are you? No. There's two." He wiped Etienne's tears away with his thumb. "I suppose that's why it took you so long. Only one side wanted to come here... but things have changed, haven't they? You're not fighting it as much anymore. I can tell. There's still two... but you're slowly growing into one. As intended."

"W...what is... what is happening to me?" Etienne was barely able to stop sobbing, the sheer sensation of finally being where he belonged utterly overwhelming him. The man sighed softly. "I'm afraid it is a rather long story... but you deserve to know. I understand if it makes no sense, I assure you, it will become clear eventually."

"The Forest... it's always existed in a plane of its own. It connects to other planes of existence, other worlds... People can fall through the cracks and end up here, they can accidentally slip between the boundary that keeps us apart, it's how it's always been... But a while ago, the boundary seemed to... come apart. The Forest is now a part of your world, slowly integrating and finding its place in your plane of existence." He motioned at the sky.

"And it appears that your world... how should I put this... it contained counterparts of the creatures that dwell here. There was a man, Benjamin." The man motioned at himself now. "He was my counterpart. We were forced to... coexist within one vessel. One world does not have the space required to contain both individuals. I seized control of the vessel rather quickly, the man I was made to share with wasn't exactly a good person, I don't consider it a loss." There was no hint or remorse in his voice, he sounded rather matter-of-fact about it.

"But that's not the only way. One side does not need full control, both sides can coexist, as long as they... merge... grow together. Become one. It's what the Crow did with his counterpart." The man tilted Etienne's head, getting a good look at his eyes. "I do believe that is where you're heading, though it seems there's still a lot of...internal conflict. It's getting in the way. You should stop fighting it so much, it'll all feel much better once you let it happen."

Alura’s chest hurt from keeping up with him but at least she war warmed up now. Her eyes began to glance around at the scenery around them, it was changing. The scenery caught her attention first, noticing the beautiful vibrant flowers. She loved nature- more so, the animals that would tend to frolic in it. What really set off bells in her head was the sky, it seemed almost as if their reality was shattering and shifting before them. Her eyes scanned the area, staying vigilant. As his paces slowed she caught up to him and remained a few feet behind him.

The voice in her head made her cover her ears- an attempt to drown it out but to no avail. After her failed attempt her hands dropped back down to her sides. Her body seemed to move on its own from this point, stepping over the branches that crawled beneath her feet. Her attention would shift from their surroundings to the back of Etienne’s head. Sure he was physically here but he didn’t seem to be conscious. With how talkative he usually was, she figured he would’ve said something by now.

The tense feeling she had seemed to fade as she fell into the trance. Keeping up with him with swifter movements, the feeling of her body feeling light- the pain in her chest not being registered anymore. When he stopped she could barely register what was happening, mentally trying to fight the trance that she had been put under. Her green eyes landed upon the man before them. She stared at him blankly before her brows began to furrow. The atmosphere around him made her body instinctively tense up. Whoever- whatever this was, they were dangerous and Alura could tell that much.

A small cough escaped her once the illusion around them was shattered. The cold and all the running she did taking an effect on her body. Her eyes squinted, scanning over the being before them. She took note of the exposed heart- what a flawed design especially of that was his weak point. She had a feeling there was nothing weak about this man. His cold expression turning into a smile didn’t put her at ease- it just made her more wary of what was hidden behind this possible nice facade. His voice made her inhale sharply, holding in another cough. Him addressing Etienne- her eyes looked over at him with a hint of concern before looking back at the being. She didn’t respond to him, besides he hadn’t exactly been taking to him.

Was this who was causing Etienne’s inner torture? She could either try to reason with him or kill him but both of those things she wasn’t sure how to do. All her clothes and items were back at his house- it was just her and a thin T-shirt against whatever this was. Still, he was being calm at the moment- so she wouldn’t try to cause any hostility.

[sarastellasari]

Wylan Van Eck Headcannons!

-He has accidentally blown up public property. Some of it wasn’t an accident. He also has burned down part of his house multiple times.

-He drinks black coffee all the time. All the crows were astonished to find this out. He drinks it to stay awake, since falling awake while working with dangerous chemicals is… not a good idea.

-He has accidentally eaten dangerous chemicals before while sleep deprived. Multiple times. Also paper. This is why he drinks the coffee. Sometimes he’ll randomly ask people “hey, do you think ___ is poisonous?” And they'll freak out. Or vice versa, they'll ask him, because they know if they've accidentally ingested a chemical/poison, he probably knows what will happen.

-He can sing quite well, but he’s super embarrassed to sing in front of people so he never does it.

-Obviously, he burns easily because he’s a redhead. But before burns, he gets freckles from being in the sun.

-He has suggested things to the merchant council multiple times that have made them pause in genuine disbelief because they’re that illegal/ unspoken about. A majority of the time, his suggestions end up working out since a lot of their stuff is outdated anyway.

-He knows how to do makeup really well, for some reason.Kaz makes him do everyone’s makeup for their jobs. Inej and Nina are very jealous of his skills. 

-He's mean behind the backs of people he doesn’t like. Someone he doesn't like will walk into a room, and he'll immediately side-eye them and start talking to everyone but that person. Not outright mean but like passive-aggressive.

-He doesn't like gossiping because A. he finds it boring, and because people gossiped about him sleeping with his tutor. He doesn't like the idea that he could hypothetically make someone else feel like that.

- He’s super close with all of the crows, and all of them go to him for advice about random things all the time. 

[schrijverr]

I Know That, because I Married Him for It

Divergence from chapter 20, where Chimney finds out Buck and Eddie are married from a high Eddie and then has to deal with keeping it secret; an impossible task for him.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warning: non consensual drug use

~~~

Maddie has just carted Buck off in her car, which had been more trouble than Chimney expected, since him and Eddie have apparently become conjoined under the influence of whatever drug is in their system right now.

However, the two of them succeeded …leaving him with a now crying Eddie. Great.

Chimney very much did not sign up to be a tripsitter – well, maybe he had being a paramedic and all, but still – and it has been more stressful than expected. Though that can be attributed to it being his friends and colleagues that were drugged with an unknown substance by an unknown assailant at an unknown time somewhere today.

Anyway, that is not for Chimney to worry about. Chimney needs to worry about Eddie being okay until his aunt can come pick him up. And right now Eddie is crying, which means Chimney will have to do something about that.

He gingerly makes his way over to Eddie and sits down next to. Despite how he was draped over Buck earlier, Chimney doesn’t touch him, just sits close enough for Eddie to know he’s there. With the state he’s in, he doesn’t want to accidentally trigger him.

“Hey, buddy, how are we doing?” he asks.

“Badly,” Eddie says, before starting to cry harder.

Right now Chimney really wishes Maddie would have taken longer to be here, since Buck’s high had been gentle until they had to separate the two and he was the only person that was stopping Eddie from crying. Chimney is pretty okay with people crying from the pain, not great with people crying because of emotions. He’s awkward, alright!

“Well, I know it’s scary, but you’re gonna be okay.” Chimney pats Eddie on the back, since Eddie is tilting towards him until their knees are touching.

“No, it’s not. You took Buck,” Eddie pouts. “And I’m not gonna be able to see Chris again. I miss him.” Then he starts crying again.

Okay, Chimney knew Buck and Eddie had become fast friends in the past few months, but this is ridiculous. Still, Eddie is in distress and Chimney is trying to keep him calm. They’ve made more than enough of a scene already.

So, he tries to soothe him again: “I know, Eddie, I know. But you’ll see them soon.”

It doesn’t really help and Eddie continues to cry. Chimney is looking out over the parking lot desperately, trying to see if a car comes pulling in with a woman that looks like she could potentially be Eddie’s aunt. No dice.

“Uh, I can tell you some stories about Chris and chickens? Would that help?” Chimney asks, because it seemed to help when Buck did it. Eddie doesn’t answer, so he tries: “So, uhm, Chris was on a farm and there was this chicken named Betty. They were the best-”

“No!” Eddie cuts him off, shaking his head stubbornly as he scowls: “That didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chimney replies, a little annoyed. Why did it work when Buck did it, but not when he does it?

“No,” Eddie says again, god, he really is pig headed, why didn’t Chimney notice that before. “Buck told me things that happened. You don’t.”

“How can Buck have told you things that happened?” Chimney exclaims. “He was talking about Chris and chickens, don’t tell me you two went to a chicken farm recently.” Is is childish to argue with the drugged person about this? Maybe. However, Chimney has had a stressful day, okay?

“Of course not,” Eddie actually sounds offended. “You’re doing it wrong.” He is at least not crying anymore, instead pouting as he defends Buck’s storytelling over Chimney’s. “Buck was talking about the Johnson farm.”

“You two actually went to a farm?” Chimney exclaims, because what the fuck is his life becoming, this just can’t be real.

“Yeah, Buck worked there, dumbass,” Eddie tells him. “It’s where he met Chris.”

“No, Buck met Chris at the hospital after your grandma had a fall. That was pretty recently. Don’t you remember that?” Chimney knows that sometimes the best move is to go along with delusions or confusion, but right now he wants to be sure Eddie is actually okay and memory loss is a scary thing to happen. Fuck, why did he let Hen and Buck out from under his supervision?

Eddie is oblivious to this and in a know-it-all manner he says: “No, he didn’t. Buck met Chris on the farm, because he was watching him. I know that, because I married him for it.”

Chimney chokes on his spit and starts coughing. He knows people say all sort of things while high, but holy shit Eddie sounds way to confident about that one. “What?” he finally manages to push out of his throat.

Now Eddie is looking at him with confusion as if he is the weird one. “What what?”

“You married Buck?” Chimney asks, still a bit breathless and red in the face.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, then he leans in and whispers: “But you’re not allowed to tell anyone. It’s a secret. Shhhhh,” he places a finger to his lip as he does that.

“Buck is your husband?” Chimney says, voice distorted by the finger still pressed to his lips.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie hums happily, pulling back. He smiles for a moment, before his lip wobbles again and his voice sounds very sad when he whispers: “I miss him.” Then he bursts out into tears all over, burying his head in his hands.

What the fuck.

Chimney is honestly so thrown off by everything Eddie just said that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, because none of that makes sense. Eddie and Buck? Married? He knows they’re friends, but they just met. He was there for that!

But here Eddie is, crying about missing his husband, whom he apparently met at a chicken farm and who is Buck. Like probie, has been there for a year never mentioned having any family, Buck. It doesn’t make any sense to Chimney.

He wraps an arm around Eddie, letting him lean his head on his shoulder, while his face still carries a bewildered expression. What is today. What is his life.

Eddie sadly murmurs into his shoulder: “I wanna see Buck and Chris now. I don’t wanna be all alone again. I had to be alone away from them in the army and it sucked. I don’t wanna do that again. I never wanna do that again. Why did you make Buck go?”

And he sounds so fucking sad that Chimney has to push his bewildered-ness down, so he can squeeze Eddie’s shoulder and shush: “I’m sorry, Eddie, but you’ll see both of them soon. You need to get this stuff out of your system, it’s not safe to leave you alone, so I called your aunt, because I didn’t know. If you said, I could have let you go with Maddie.”

Chimney honestly doesn’t know why Maddie didn’t say anything and just struggled with him to get the two separated.

Almost as soon as that question pops into his brain, Eddie’s starts shaking his head. “No. No, Maddie doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t?” Chimney can’s help, but exclaims, because what. It is already wild information that he doesn’t know what to do with, but hey, keeping your relationship out of the work place isn’t too crazy, but Maddie doesn’t know? Buck’s sister doesn’t know. Is she homophobic? Chimney didn’t think so, but he’s only met her a few times now. That would suck.

“No one knows. It’s a secret,” Eddie tells him, giving him big eyes and putting on the most important voice he’s capable of.

Chimney freezes.

No one knows?

The implications of that hit him. He might be straight, but he’s been friends with Hen and Karen for a long time, stood as best man at their wedding, witnessed how the 118 talked to her before Bobby took over. No one knowing means Chimney has to keep this secret.

Fuck!

“Uhm, okay. It’s a secret,” Chimney agrees, voice a little faint. He can do this, right? Yeah, he can totally keep this secret… He hopes.

“Hmm, secret,” Eddie nods. Then he looks over to the side, distracted by some of the kids from the pageant running around, while their moms tried to prevent skinned knees, Chimney doesn’t get it, but Eddie seems to take something different from it, saying: “I miss Chris.” And it doesn’t surprise Chimney in the slightest when he then breaks down again.

Unwilling to have more knowledge unwillingly dropped on him that he’ll then have to keep secret, Chimney lets him cry as he holds him without saying anything to invoke a reaction. God, he hopes Eddie’s aunt comes soon.

Fifteen minutes later, his prayer is answered. A car pulls up and a severe looking woman with black hair steps out, immediately zeroing in on Eddie and walking over. Once she is sufficiently close enough to loom over them, she crosses her arms and shakes her head: “… Edmundo.”

Eddie looks up and blinks a few times, tears still in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees the woman, despite her expression. “Tía Pepa!”

Pepa’s face soften and she nods to her car: “Let’s get going, mijo.”

Almost instantly, Eddie starts to move and Chimney quickly catches up, helping him up, because despite his determination, his coordination is less than stellar right now. He wants to be polite and say hi to Pepa, but Eddie is moving, so Chimney supports him all the way to the car.

Thankfully, Pepa opens the door for them, even though she lets Chimney do most of the heavy lifting, while she just tuts at Eddie and scolds him for not being more careful and that he has Chris to think about.

Wrong thing to say of her, but she hasn’t been there, so Chimney forgives her as Eddie starts crying again while Chimney buckles him in.

Once Eddie is seated, Chimney straightens up and finally extends his hand to Pepa: “I’m Chimney, Eddie’s coworker. There was an unknown substance he must have come into contact with. He’s not the only one, but with the symptoms observed, he doesn’t need to go to a hospital. He’s just high, essentially. Uhm, so you just have to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s okay, get him to drink water if you can. Thank you for coming to pick him up, I can’t imagine that call was what you were hoping for today.”

“Pepa,” she introduces herself, before amusedly scoffing: “And I’m just glad you kept my nephew out of trouble. I’ll watch over him, don’t worry. I have time.”

In the background Eddie sobs again and Chimney cringes: “Thank you, uhm, the crying has been kind of normal.”

“He misses Chris, I get it. He always does,” Pepa says, giving him a sharp smile. “I’ll call Carla to watch Chris, since I don’t think Eddie would want him to see him until it’s out of his system, even if he misses him. How long do you think it will last?”

“I can’t give hard numbers, but most of the time trips last between 9 and 12 hours. So, he’ll be okay by tomorrow for sure,” Chimney tells her.

“Alright. Thank you and nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too. Good luck, have a good day!”

Pepa just smiles and nods at him, before getting in her car. Chimney watches as she swats Eddie’s hand away from the radio, then cards a quick hand through his hair, before pinching his cheek. With that done, Eddie calms a little and she pulls out of the parking lot, leaving Chimney behind.

For a moment, he just stands there as everything all comes crashing down on him again. Holy shit, his coworkers just got drugged. What the fuck!

Chimney deflates slightly, the stress of suddenly being responsible for all his coworkers on a call washing off him now that he’s handed over the last one to someone else. He’ll have to drive the ambulance and truck back to the station somehow and stay behind until they can get a full shift back at the house, not to mention give a statement, but at least no one got seriously hurt.

There were no overdoses, no bad reactions – either allergies, bad trips or meds that shouldn’t mix – and he has a text from Athena saying Bobby is okay. Chimney kept everyone alive.

He lets out a deep breath and rubs his face.

He allows himself one moment, then pops a piece of gum in his mouth and makes his way back inside to get all the gear sorted out.

The 125 had been called in to deal with the shoe in face incident instead and there are fortunately still some of them there, so Chimney gets the Captain to lend one of his people out to help Chimney drive the two vehicles back to the station. Chimney gets the feeling this won’t be the last time someone asks what the hell happened.

Once everything is sorted and the guy from the 125 is back to his own house, Chimney flops onto the couch. He is exhausted. Cops will come by later to take his statement and all the food has been confiscated, which sucks, but at least there won’t be any calls.

As he lies there, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Karen has send him some videos of Hen, which are hilarious and they’re so going to make fun of her for that later. Athena only sends him a curt text back, which is understandable. He didn’t give Pepa his number, so nothing from her, but Maddie did text him that Buck’s gentle high has become an emotional one and they’re on the couch with ice cream.

Chimney thinks to himself: understandable, we took him away from his husband. He is about to text a joke back when he remembers it’s a secret. It honestly doesn’t feel completely real yet that Buck and Eddie are married, but Eddie seemed adamant.

And now Chimney knows.

And no one else.

Looking back on his conversation with Pepa, he realizes that she never mentioned Buck at all, just Chris. Seems like Eddie wasn’t lying about no one knowing. If it’s real at all.

He doesn’t know if he should take high Eddie’s word as gospel, but it also seems like a wild and random thing to lie about. Like even if Eddie has a crush on Buck, jumping to being married seems excessive. And why the chicken story? How did that just happen? No, it definitely has some basis of truth.

It has a basis of truth and it’s a secret. A secret that goes deep. They didn’t tell their families, they didn’t tell Bobby, Buck never mentioned it all his entire probie year, even if he’s a chronic over-sharer. Hell, they played out a first meeting on Eddie’s first day. They had a spat.

Buck and Eddie are married and have gone to great lengths to hide that fact and now Chimney know it too. This is going to end terribly.

First, Chimney can’t keep secrets for shit, so this is impossible. Secondly, this is really something HR should be informed about. Eddie can’t work with Buck in his probie year. Chimney would think they’d lied for that, were it not for neither Maddie and Pepa knowing.

So, now here he is. With no clue what to do. He can’t go to Maddie to talk about it, because that would be outing him to her, which is bad. Even telling Hen or Bobby would be outing them and bad, because one is their boss, so don’t share sensitive information with him, especially because this might get them fired, and Hen is their coworker as well.

He should just wait for Buck and Eddie to ride out this high, then go to them about it. That is the best course of action. They can decide what to do with Chimney knowing and the likely limited time he can keep it to himself.

Fuck, why did he have to find this out! Unfair. Chimney has a stressful enough life with working as a paramedic/firefighter, he doesn’t need big coworker secrets on top of this.

Like, is he now complicit in them lying to HR? Do they even know they can get into serious trouble for this? Or will they be able to claim obliviousness and it’s only Chimney who will go down for this?!

Okay, no, breathe. You’re going to talk to them, explain to them why this is a bad idea and that they have to come clean before he accidentally does it, apologize in advance for doing that, and then it will all be fine.

It’ll be fine.

It’s totally gonna be fine.

…

God, Chimney hates this!

He tosses and turns a little on the couch as his mind whirs without being able to calm down. He is almost grateful to the police coming to take his statement, because that’s a distraction he can use right now. However, not blurting out what Eddie confessed when recounting their behavior is a struggle and he dreads the coming few days.

Beyond that he texts Maddie some but that’s a minefield, tries to beat Hen’s high score on the pin ball machine, then sulkily plays firetruck simulator when he can’t, as well as naps a bit.

Still, despite not answering any calls, since it’s just him at the firehouse, he is exhausted when B shift comes back in to take over for him.

When he gets home, he has a text from Maddie saying Buck has moved from crying it out to sleeping it off. So, Chimney tells her that despite usually knowing better, he’s going to follow her brother’s example, which gets him some laughing emojis back. With that he drops into bed and knocks out, hoping he’s forgotten today when he wakes up.

After a good amount of sleep for all of them and a drug test for most of them, they’re all back for a shift.

Chimney is both looking forward to it and deeply dreading it.

Bobby has come in early and hidden away, a clear message that he does not want to discuss it. But Hen is right there to be made fun off, which Chimney needs to blow off jitters and nerves, because if he is teasing her, he can’t be talking about Buck and Eddie.

Luckily, it’s Hen and she knows him, so she takes like a champ. She sniffs: “I’m not embarrassed about being filled with love, Chim.”

“According to Karen love is not the only thing you wanted to be filled with,” Chimney says gleefully.

“Oh shut up!”

“What are we talking about?” Buck asks as he and Eddie come walking up, both looking better than the last time Chimney saw them. Which isn’t that hard admittedly, since both were crying said last time.

“Nothing!” Hen exclaims, not necessarily embarrassed, but happy to have an out from the teasing to focus on Buck and Eddie instead.

Chimney would have happily teased her in front of Buck and Eddie, had it not been Buck and Eddie who just arrived. Together, he notes. Did they arrive in one car from their shared home? Or are they still keeping it up, even though he knows?

Neither of them seem nervous or looking at him anxiously and they haven’t texted him. What are they thinking? It seems like only he is panicking, since Hen is oblivious and either Buck and Eddie are phenomenal actors or they don’t care as much.

To distract further from herself, Hen asks: “Did both of you get everything out of you system alright?”

Buck blushes a bright red at that and throws himself on the couch, groaning loudly: “I embarrassed myself so much. After all my efforts to do dumb shit like this when Maddie couldn’t see, this had to happen to me. I’m never going to eat anything I didn’t see prepared.”

“What did you do?” Hen asks curiously.

Now Buck looks away and mutters: “Nothing.” Suspicious. Did he accidentally tell Maddie? Is Chimney no longer alone in this?

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie tries to comfort him. Does Eddie not know? Is that why both are not looking at him, because Buck didn’t tell Eddie and Eddie didn’t tell Buck? Should Chimney be worried about that? But then why isn’t Eddie looking at him.

“You weren’t there,” Buck grouches, crossing his arms. “I had to wrestle for control to get those videos deleted.”

“And what about you, Eddie? Spill anything to your aunt?” Chimney finds himself asking, biting the inside of his cheek to not ramble on more.

“Uh, no?” Eddie frowns, now looking at Chimney, but only being confused, nothing else. “Did I say something weird to you? It’s honestly a bit of a blur.”

Fuck, does Eddie not remember telling Chimney? That is even worse! Noooo! How could this happen to him? What does he do now!?

Floundering for a second, Chimney goes: “To me? Weird? No, no, of course not. Nothing weird said to me, no, sir. I- I am not knowing of anything weird. At all. I just- I gotta go.”

Chimney can’t do this, he spins on his heel and quickly walks away. Where? He does not know, but that doesn’t matter, he needs to be somewhere other than here. As he leaves, he hears Eddie ask: “Did I so something?” but he doesn’t care. Eddie did do something. He ruined Chimney’s life, he just doesn’t remember it.

He walks until he’s in the locker room, then decides this is far away enough to have a freak out.

Okay, so… Eddie might not remember telling Chimney this very big important secret. That is Bad, very bad. Fuck. What does he do? What is the plan?

Alright, Chimney, think. Eddie doesn’t know you know this, so Buck doesn’t either. They are oblivious as is the rest of the 118. It can remain that way. If he just keeps his mouth shut, they can pass this by without anything changing, it’s not his secret to tell anyway, so he should just keep it.

But they might get in trouble with HR. But is that Chimney’s problem? Maybe he can say he didn’t know when it comes out, that could work. But he also is a bad liar. But he can claim not being a dick and not wanting to out his coworkers, or say he thought it had been approved. Yeah, that could work. Chimney can totally make that work.

He nods to himself, glad to have made the decision. He is just about to rejoin everyone when Hen pokes her head around the door of the locker room. She asks: “Is everything okay? You just kind of ran away from Eddie, did something happen?”

“Me? Not okay? Of course I’m okay,” Chimney grins awkwardly. Okay, so maybe his acting casual skills need some work, but he’s trying!

“Chim,” Hen raises her brow at him with a tone that says: ‘you’re not fooling me, something is up and you better tell me right now.’

“Hen,” Chimney replies, hoping his tone conveys: ‘I know you know something and that you also know that I know that you know that I know something, however, for my sake, please do not ask me more.’

They stare at each other for a few seconds in a stand off, neither of them budging. Then Hen goes: “Alright, keep you secrets.”

“I know that’s a Lord of the Rings quote! You do pay attention when I force you to watch movies with me,” Chimney crows, both delighted at winning the stand off and at the confirmation that Hen does pay attention, even when she complains.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “just don’t come crying to me when whatever is going on, goes wrong.”

“I won’t,” Chimney promises, even though he’s not sure he’ll keep it and Hen knows it. Luckily, he doesn’t get called out on it, because the alarm starts to ring and they have to get their asses into gear instead.

Being on a call with Buck and Eddie isn’t much better. He continuously notices how close they are, the way their shoulders always bump together, the way they wordlessly communicate, the little glances and looks they give each other.

However, being on a call is a distraction, which is better than nothing. Focusing on a patient always puts him in a different mindset and he can ignore the Buck and Eddie show for a bit.

It’s worse to have down time. Chimney realizes very quickly his acting skills are worse than he thought and acting casual is practically not an option for him. Whenever he is around either Buck or Eddie for too long, he starts rambling, before having to remove himself from the situation.

Still, Buck and Eddie don’t have to make it so hard on him! He had already noticed they were close, but now he is just way too aware of the massive heart eyes they keep giving each other. Like, if they were keeping their marriage secret, could they at least act less sappy, in love around each other? For Chimney’s sake.

Less than a week has passed since their first shift back on after the drugging and Chimney is slowly losing it.

They’re back on today and Buck and Eddie are playing pool together. One could say they were shit talking each other, but Chimney couldn’t describe it as anything other than flirting. Badly flirting at that. God, they’re made for each other, he thinks disgusted. Why does he have to be lonely? It’s so unfair.

Apparently, he has been as unsubtle as Buck and Eddie have been, because Hen throws her hands up and exclaims: “Okay, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Wha?” Chimney blinks as everyone turns to look at her.

Hen places a hand on her hip and says: “You have been acting weird around Buck and Eddie since the drugging, just tell everyone what happened and put us all out of our misery! I can’t take this anymore.”

“Me? Weird? I’m not weird, I’m like so normal. I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hen,” he chuckles nervously, already glancing around for his best exit strategy.

“Chimney, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t-”

“Eddie told me him and Buck are married!” It bursts out of his mouth, the pressure becoming too much as he cracks under it. Immediately he cringes and slaps his hands over his mouth. He did not want to tell anyone like this. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone at all!

“What?” Hen shrieks, clearly, this is not what she thought he’d say.

He squints slightly, chancing a peak at Buck and Eddie, who are completely frozen next to the pool table, staring at Chimney with horror.

Hen whirls around to where Buck and Eddie are, repeating loudly: “What!”

“Uh… Eddie was lying?” Buck offers after a few seconds, the answer sounding more like a question, as if he is asking them to believe his lie.

“No, he wasn’t,” Chimney frowns, because he can’t have been. One, Buck is clearly lying right now, and two, Chimney did not torture himself for a week for it to not be true now.

“I have no clue what you are talking about,” Eddie says, sounding a little more believable than Buck does.

“You don’t?” Chimney starts doubting himself again. Buck did have that hook up phase, he wouldn’t do that if he was married, right? Maybe it was just a hallucination and that’s why Pepa never mentioned Buck, because it’s not real.

Oh god, what if it’s not real?

“I just- You sounded very sure of yourself,” Chimney stutters, feeling a bit like a fool now. “I mean, Buck was talking about Chris and chickens and then you mentioned you two meeting on a chicken farm, uh, the Johnson farm, I think it was.”

“How do you know about the John-” Buck cuts himself off as Eddie elbows him in the side and he clears his throat and says: “I mean, huh, Johnson farm. Don’t know it.”

Eddie face palms at the words and Chimney is now pretty confident that Eddie hadn’t been lying about the being married thing. Which is so much more confusing now. Just why couldn’t Eddie have kept his mouth shut? Why must Chimney go through this?

“You two better start talking right now,” Hen tells both of them, her eyes daring them to deflect or deny again.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “so me and Buck are married.”

“How long?”

“Uh,” Eddie thinks for a second, looking at Buck, who fills in: “Two years. Give or take, little more give than take.”

Eyes nearly fall out of both Chimney’s and Hen’s sockets. Chimney half assumed that it was a recent thing, maybe an impulsive marriage, post-Buck’s hook up phase at least, but two years? Uh, jikes, dude. Chimney and Hem exchange a glance.

Naturally, Eddie chooses this moment to become observant and suspicious back, asking: “What was that glance about?”

Chimney and Hen exchange another glance, before Chimney delicately says: “Uh, the- the two years is a bit of, uhm, a surprise? Uh, since- since neither of you acted very married.” He coughs. “I mean, especially Buck, uhm, during his probie year.”

Realization dawns on Buck’s face and Chimney really hopes he isn’t going to see the start of a divorce right now. He’s been put through enough.

“Oh, you mean the Buck having sex thing?” Eddie says, realization also hitting him. He sounds very casual about it and neither know if that is a good thing.

“That is not what you think!” Buck quickly exclaims, waving his hands about as he does. “That is so not what you think or what it looks like. Me and Eddie aren’t married like that. I wasn’t cheating on him, I swear.”

They look over to Eddie to confirm. Eddie doesn’t look very pleased, but he manages a smile to them as he explains: “It’s a marriage of convenience. Me and Buck are friends, just legally married for Chris’s benefit.”

Chimney’s voice is a little higher than normal due to the relief as he says: “Oh, that’s- that’s good. Really good.”

“Uh-huh,” Hen agrees. “So, how did that happen? And why the fuck did you lie about that?”

Now it’s Buck and Eddie’s turn to give each other a look, making a few facial expressions at one another before they seem to reach a consensus.

“Well, I worked at a chicken farm in El Paso and I met Chris there with Shannon, his mom. We kind of hit it off and I started babysitting,” Buck starts.

Eddie sees their question coming and interjects: “Me and Shan were already divorced then.”

“Oh, yeah, important detail,” Buck says sheepishly, before continuing: “Anyway, I babysat a lot, Eddie came back from tour, then Shan left to take care of her mom – long story, kind of shitty of her – but then I met Eddie, helped out more with Chris. Chris needed more surgery. Surgery is expensive. Eddie went back in the army. We got married so I could adopt Chris and look after him while Eddie was on tour. That’s kind of the spark notes.”

That is a lot of information to process and Chimney has a head start in the processing department. It is honestly the most Buck and Eddie move that the explanation makes almost less sense. But of course, these two are married as friends, because Buck dated Eddie’s ex-wife and then just hung around to help with the kid after she left. Somehow that makes perfect sense for him.

What is his life at this point?

Next to him, Hen seems to have processed most of what they just told them – there are still a thousand questions to be asked, but they at least have the basics – and is sharp enough to ask: “And what about my other question? Why did you two lie?”

Both Buck and Eddie look a little embarrassed about it with Eddie looking away with red ears, while Buck rubs the back of his head again.

“Uh, well, we wanted to work together,” Buck finally says. “It says no romantic partners in your probie year, but me and Eddie aren’t romantic, right, so then it doesn’t apply. But then we were thinking, when you know someone, people ask questions about how you know them and then the story would have come out and it’s a bit complicated and stuff. So, uh, we decided to lie.”

“Of fucking course you two did,” Hen sighs, taking off her glasses for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Are you mad?” Buck asks, voice small. It never ceases to amaze Chimney just how vulnerable Buck can sound.

Instantly Hen melts a little, putting her glasses back on as she smiles: “Of course I’m not mad, Buck, just wrapping my head around it all.”

“Sorry,” Buck says and, hey! Why does Hen get a sorry? Chimney has been keeping this secret for a whole week, doesn’t he deserve credit for that? He was suffering!

“It’s okay,” Hen reassures him.

Then Eddie asks: “So, what is gonna happen now? You know, now that you know? Are you going to do something with it?”

“Oh no, definitely not. I’m not meddling more in this nonsense,” Hen says without skipping a beat and she is so right for that.

They look to Chimney, who says: “Yeah, no, I already went through enough for that secret, I’m not putting myself through more.”

Both Buck and Eddie seem to sag a little in relief, then Hen pulls the rug out from under them: “But you two gotta tell Bobby. He needs to know about this. Just in case.”

“What? No!” Buck exclaims horrified.

“Hen, please don’t make us do that,” Eddie begs.

Chimney can already tell by the way Hen is standing that she isn’t going to change her mind and he cackles loudly; vindication for his suffering! Maybe being forced into tripsitting everyone, isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to him.

~~

A/N:

Do I get frustrated with season 4!Chimney for keeping that secret from Buck? Yes, I do. Was it also fucking hilarious? Yes, it was xp

[dramaticallytotal]

The Rise of Team E-Scope Headcanons: Part Seven

Idea Post Part One Last Part

Broadway Baby:

• Noah wasn't crushed under Owen because Alejandro is trying to show the smaller boy he could be an ideal friend, so he made sure Noah sat next to him. Except the boy slept a lot, not that Alejandro could blame him, his ankle was still hurt. It had apparently been a sprain, but thankfully, it was not too serious, which was a miracle to Alejandro, considering his new amigo had taken the brunt of Owen's weight on his ankle. The boy had taken some pain medication and was out.

• Alejandro was also very surprised at how considerate Izzy could be as he had observed the girl gently waking Noah up to make sure he ate and to rewrap his ankle. It was odd. She was never gentle with anyone. Except Noah and Eva but Noah more so. So Noah must be the leader of the group, which is what Alejandro concluded. (Ale, you fool. They are just really close friends who care about each other.)

• While Tyler and Alejandro had been eating oatmeal (first class has an oatmeal bar, I don't know why, but I believe this in my soul. It's only available for breakfast), Owen, once awake, had a full Yukon breakfast, Izzy ate a little of everything, and Noah had congee. He had been confused when he was woken up by Izzy to eat it because he knew it wasn't an option on the breakfast menu.

She claimed she made it and before Alejandro could stop him from doing so (Alejandro 100% does not trust it since Izzy said she made it and he's worried how Noah wasn't worried at all) Noah took a bite and felt himself practically melt. It tasted just like his pāṭṭi's (grandma's). He knew she didn't make it, given that Izzy liked to experiment when she cooked, so she must have specifically asked for it. But for it to taste just like his pāṭṭi's the person who made it must have known her or something. Which meant Chef most likely made it.

Noah doesn't know why he did, but he's grateful. Despite his ankle being in pain, the congee helped.

[That is exactly why Chef made it. His emotionally-adopted son was hurt, and his in-denial husband panicked and called Abbi, Noah's mom, to tell her and ask for tips on how to make him feel better. Elayanila, Noah's grandma, took over the call and told Chef how to make her congee.]

• Eva was so done with Courtney, Heather, and Gwen and their stupid fighting. They had fought late into the night and started right back up as soon as they awoke. What was worse was them blaming her despite her doing her best, and she knew they would have voted her off if the challenge had not been a reward.

Heather had made a snide remark about Eva going faster if she had let her whip her. It took Eva, baring her teeth at the girl, to get her to shut up. They would have won if Sierra hadn't gone off the path and taken Cody with her. It took extra time to find them, which is what set them back.

• Eva, Katie, and Sadie were guarding Cody in economy class as Sierra kept trying to get to him to rub his legs and feet to "warm" him up.

• Bridgette is feeling on edge after the challenge, and it is because of the accidental kiss with Alejandro. She already made a confessional about it and how sorry she was to Geoff. She apologized that it happened and that she didn’t say more to Alejandro when he flirted with her. She also confesses that it took Noah talking to her to realize how it looked.

Now that she's on edge, she kind of starts to isolate from her team but especially Leshawna.

• Lindsay is still the one to give her team a pep talk because she's like, so tired of their down attitudes. Well, besides Sadie, but Sadie was playing guard so Lindsay didn't have her other moral booster.

• Tyler is the one to tell Alejandro to take Lindsay a snuffer's bar.

• Leshawna and Lindsay happily took the snacks while Bridgette just said, "I'm good. Thanks." Which shocked Alejandro and Leshawna. Leshawna apologized for Bridgette's behavior, which Alejandro waved away, but Bridgette heard her, and now there is tension between the two because Bridgette knows she wasn't rude in her answer or anything. She even said it with a smile. But for some odd reason, Leshawna took offense to her, turning down Alejandro's gesture.

• Heather is still trying to form an alliance with Sierra, so she is still there when Alejandro tries to offer his former teammate some candy. She still plays the whole enemy thing up.

• Alejandro does think she's good, but he also knows that Team E-Scope is protective of Cody, and if Heather is complicit of helps Sierra get to Cody, she's done. Even if Sierra is Chris's current favorite.

• Noah caught Alejandro's smirk when Sierra annoyed Chris and could see where the next manipulation was going to go.

• Izzy offered to carry Noah up the rope because of his ankle, but Alejandro made up some reason for it to be him, so Noah ended up getting a piggy-back ride up the rope. He tried not to think of how warm Alejandro was or how he had the perfect view of his muscles working overtime as they climbed.

• Alejandro was trying not to focus on the feel of Noah pressed against his back nor the way the shorter boy's thighs squeezed him the further from the ground they got. But this also helped him realize he actually felt muscle in the thighs, so he added it to his list of Noah Is More Than He Seems because all he has heard is how scrawny and lanky Noah is. So why was there muscle enough to notice?

• A pair of work gloves lended to Justin so the boy wouldn't cry and complain about damaging his hands, which ended up on his Objects Noah Has In His Utility Belt List.

• Lindsay was the first one up her rope for her team. All her years of gymnastics were really coming in handy. Bridgette followed her quickly, followed by Sadie, then Leshawna, then DJ.

• Heather still suggested Sierra chose the method of climbing while Eva ignored them and just started climbing with one hand. One hand because she grabbed Cody by the back of his shirts like the scruff of a cat and just started climbing. Katie immediately followed her.

• Sierra still makes the confession that she knows Heather is playing her, but she also admits she is going along with it because she knows Heather is desperate for an alliance and she could use that to get to Cody. Whether that be voting off Eva or Heather distracting the girl for her. Whichever came first.

• Alejandro did swing over to Sierra while Noah berated him for slowing them down, which the taller boy expertly ignored. He still played his manipulation of Sierra like in canon, and Noah had to begrudgingly compliment him. He was hoping this would be what sent Sierra home.

• Once at the top, Sierra mentioned to Heather how it was a little annoying how Eva left them behind. She made sure to mention she thought it meant the girl was trying to be their leader, which pissed off Heather to the point the mean girl offered to get the stroller as that's something only a valuable teammate and wonderful leader would do.

• Once they got Owen up, Izzy made her way to the stroller faster than everyone else. So, Team Chris took the lead.

• DJ is still the one who got Team Victory's stroller.

• Alejandro did hit Owen with the stroller as a form of cathartic release once he realized none of his other teammates were there to see it happen.

• Cody did fall out the boat, but Eva noticed and dived in to get him. Her swimming made the distance her team had to turn around lessen.

• When they went into the sewer, Noah handed his team nose plugs. It went on the list.

• The alligator is actually an animal employed on the show, though Noah never got close to him, so the fear of meeting him was definitely real. And Noah clings when he's scared, which meant he clung to Alejandro almost immediately.

• No Heather comment from Alejandro because he was distracted by Noah clinging to him.

• The boy band comment from Sierra let Noah know Alejandro's plan with Sierra was working. It also gave him a good laugh along with everyone.

• Who went in the strollers still remains the same as in canon.

• Noah sang one line in the song before he fell asleep because of the pain. His pain medication wore off, and anytime he was sick or hurt, he would sleep it off. It was just instinct at that point.

• Alejandro did flirt with Heather, but it's not because he likes her. It's strategy.

• No baby and Noah swap in this one either, as Izzy would not leave Noah alone while he's injured and sleeping. Heather tried to swap anyways and Izzy bit her. The mom of the baby also hit her with her purse a couple of times. Chris had to make Heather apologize so the mom wouldn't sue.

• Bridgette swam for her team since Leshawna, Lindsay, and Sadie refused to. Plus DJ still can't swim well.

• Sierra swam in an effort to impress Cody.

• Tyler still swam for Team Chris.

• Team Chris won first place because there was no switch while Team Amazon came in second, and Team Victory came in last.

• Noah woke up from the cheering, and that's when Chris said he'd make the challenge a reward challenge if Noah sang a solo song. Noah is baffled and shocked and immediately asks why. Chris's shit-eating grin should have clued him in that it was nothing good and of course he was right!

Noelle was such a snitch!!!

She saw his singing in past episodes and knew he wasn't putting any effort in, so she contacted Chris with proof Noah can sing. Thus, Chris made Noah sing. He said it could be about anything, so Noah made sure to pick a song that would be cut and possibly copyrighted if they kept it in.

He sang "Toucha, Toucha, Toucha, Touch Me" from Rocky Horror Picture Show.

• Chris did have to cut the camera, but he let Noah sing out the whole song. Alejandro was entranced and couldn't really tell you why he couldn't look away. But he couldn't. Especially when Noah would run his hands up and down his body as he got into character. He barely noticed Izzy and Lindsay jumping in as some kind of background singers ( they jumped in as Magenta and Columbia respectively.)

Trent, Justin, and Cody were all amazed that Moah could sing, and Trent and Cody were already coming up with ways to pursue the boy to join their band. Justin found new flirting and teasing material.

• Once Noah was done, he was met with applause, which he brushed off, but the smirk he sent Chris was met with an eye roll from the host and a poorly hidden smile.

• Team Chris got to open the apples, and everyone took a bit of the candy, but Alejandro and Noah were already thinking of sharing it with the whole cast. Noah because he had friends in economy class who would love some and Alejandro as a manipulation tatic.

• They, of course, kept the meat grinder.

• Noah was pleased to be back in first class and immediately claimed a couch for himself and spread out on it, not unlike a cat stretching and getting comfortable in the sun. Izzy and Owen cooed, and Alejandro thought it was cute before he berated himself for thinking so and picking a chair close to Noah. For his plan, of course! They needed to be close so Alejandro could make Noah believe they were friends.

• Trent, Tyler, and Justin requested massages, while Owen and Izzy settled on another couch and watched a movie on the big screen that was in first class.

• At the end of the episode, Chris had to explain to the viewers why Noah's song was cut.

• But he found out one camera guy had still been rolling, so he and Chef had a recording of their ki- assistant, absolutely killing it. He is so unaware that he's acting like a proud dad.

[completeoveranalysis]

[3]

Evil Wolverine’s crimes continue.

Fai is expressing concern over the fact that both individual Sakura’s had a huge amount of power separately, but now together…?

AND THEN EVIL WOLVERINE INTERRUPTS HIM TO EXPLAIN THE FACTS THAT WE ALREADY HAVE, BUT IN HIS UNIQUE FONT. 

HELLO IT IS TIME TO RECAP ALL THE FACTS THAT YOU MAY REMEMBER FROM THE PREVIOUS PAGES THAT IMMEDIATELY PRECEDED THIS

SOULS GATHERED INTO OTHER SAKURA CLONES = DIDN’T WORK SO WELL

THIS ONE SAKURA CLONE IN PARTICULAR WAS EXCELLENT

STAMP THAT CLONE WITH ALL THE DIMENSION MEMORIES WE NEED 

ADD THE SUPER FEATHER THAT GOT STRONGER OVER TIME IN THE RESERVOIR FOR SOME REASON

COMBINE THAT WITH THE ORIGINAL SAKURA, MIX WELL, AND BOOM. 

You now have Super Goddess Sakura - the all purpose tool for all your universe destroying needs!

The place he loses me is when he says that Original ‘Sakura’ has the nature to take both of these things into herself. Which, I don’t know why she would, since the feather belongs quite specifically to a different soul, and I don’t know why she would absorb the body of her clone. Like, the Syaorans never absorbed each other, and Watanuki has always been fine when meeting Lava Lamp. 

Is it specifically because the body is empty? So it kind of drifts automatically towards a soul very similar to its original to merge with? And since The Sakura Clone's soul was VERY close to the original Sakura's, that meant she was able compatible with the feather even through she isn't missing any part of her own soul? Like an Extra Memory DLC she could have since the files were compatible, even though those memories aren't hers? Or something? 

I feel like I am being pedantic but he specifically says she has the ability to take both those things into herself.

If Syaoran had died but left an empty body behind would Lava Lamp have accidentally fused with it? Or is this a Sakura Specific Function that’s happening because of the Extreme Universe Powers that are being thrown around her?

Honestly at this point Evil Wolverine could just start adding any other random event he needed to make this work to the list and I’d just have to shrug and say Sure, Ok. Whatever you say. That might as well also be true now. 

[phosphoresccent]

sick fic - yogscast fic

Honeydew sat up in bed, casting a bleary eye around the room. Lalna, who had slept incredibly poorly, was grateful the older man was conscious. The other man - dwarven constitution and bullheadedness combined to disastrous effect - hadn’t realised he was sick until he’d passed out next to the forge. Xephos almost had a heart attack and had been tending him all night, alongside an increasingly peaky Lalna. He was pretty good at it, but his knowledge of medicine was either purely biochemical or (concerningly) surgical and he’d been pesting Lalna with questions until Lalna had had to hurl, upon which he’d gone full mother-hen mode and pushed him into bed alongside a snoring Honeydew. He looked fine already - Lalna was sure his fever and the high temperatures near the forge had just caused his blood pressure to drop and he’d already slept off the fever as only a dwarf could. Lalna, on the other hand, could tell he was settling in for a few days of creaky discomfort and runny noses. Xephos had left some time ago, ostensibly to get some fresh water and fever reducer, but he hadn’t come back in a while and Lalna was starting to feel miserable again. 

“Glad you’re alive, mate. How are you feeling?” Honeydew scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

“Fine, so much for my dwarven constitution, fainting like a little girl and all that.” He paused, before frowning. “Where’s Xephos?” 

“He was playing nursemaid to you all night, kept asking me questions and bustling about - he may have just fallen asleep on the way back.” Honeydew looked pale before heaving himself out of bed, swaying slightly on his feet. “Whoa there, you aren’t ready to go running around yet - probably - settle back -” 

“That idiot!” Lalna startled backwards, not ready for the real frustration pouring from the dwarf. He turned, near dragging Lalna from his bed. “If he's drowning in a puddle of sick somewhere I’m going to kill him myself! Idiot! He should have hid on the other side of the base!” Lalna felt dizzy as he was tugged along the halls, the stop-starting as Honeydew kept checking every cranny rattling his brain in his skull. 

“What do you mean? If he gets sick it’ll be miserable but -” Honeydew stopped short, glaring up at him. 

“Some kinda Doctor you are - he’s from fucking space! He got a cold from a snotty brat one time and died!” 

“Space?!” 

Honeydew looked at him strangely. “Yeah? What, you think I call him spaceman for shits and giggles?” 

“Yes, actually! Neither of you ever talk about anything personal!” 

He huffed, looking away. “Not much of it is worth talking about.” Lalna’s head couldn’t help but spin. Xephos’ immortality was quite simply the only reason the man hadn’t long died from some childhood illness - he must be so unadapted to the local diseases, to say nothing of the fact Lalna hadn’t even thought to see how respawning affected the creation of memory T cells. 

“Shit - shit shit. You’re right - why doesn’t he wear a mask? Why didn’t he quarantine when he saw you were sick?” The both of them were frantically checking over rooms, both of them remembering various times the other man had slinked off into a corner to bleed out rather than receive medical attention.

“Because he’s a soft hearted idiot! - Fuck - Xeph!” Lalna rushed over to where Honeydew was already crouched next to a deathly pale Xephos, the glow of his freckles near totally absent. His breath was rough and wheezy, and it looked like he’d partially aspirated. Stamping down his instinctual panicked flailing, Lalna pressed his fingers firmly to Xephos’ radial artery, staring at his watch as he timed his pulse. It was weaker than he’d like - sitting at about 125 bpm which was. Not at all good, but not imminently fatal. They didn’t have anything to set up an IV drip but he was pretty sure had had a few vials of amoxicillin-clavulanate laying around. It’d burn going in and he’d have to deliver it slowly, but it should stop the aspiration pneumonia he could hear in Xeph’s rasping breaths from getting any worse. Their infections themselves were viral, so there wasn’t anything he could do other than give fever reducers and keep him hydrated, just like Xephos had been doing for him and Honeydew last night as Lalna had whined about how rubbish he felt. 

He felt real fucking rubbish now. 

“Honeydew - Lalna.” Xephos’ voice was rough, and his eyes hazy. He pressed himself into the both of them, shivering slightly. “‘M cold. Tired. Sorry I forgot the - the stuff.” Honeydew had grabbed a washcloth from gods knows where and was wiping the bile and sweat from Xephos’ feverish face as he sat there, placid but whining softly at the cold cloth.

“Well?” Honeydew looked at Lalna who startled out of his internal dosage calculations. “Is he -” 

Lalna sighed, not taking his fingers from Xephos’ wrist. “He's rough, and I’m going to have to give him some strong antibiotics, but he’s not deathly ill. It might actually have been better that he was running around when it happened, if he’d been laying down and as weak as this he’d probably have drowned.” 

Honeydew swore, face paling. They were immortal, but - well. Dying couldn’t be nice. Xephos clumsily pet Honeydew’s face, frowning at how upset his friend looked. “ 's ok. I just - I need a drink and. And a sit. I’m ok, friend.” Honeydew just thumped his head heavily on Xephos’ shoulder, the other man petting at his messy hair. “Don’t - don’t worry, friend. Don’t worry.”

Lalna pulled himself to his feet, feeling like he’d aged a few years over the last 10 minutes. “‘Dew, can you get him back to the room alright or do you need a hand? I need to grab some stuff from storage but it can wait a minute if you need the help.” 

Honeydew shook his head, lifting Xephos with a practised ease that could only come from hundreds of adventures. “He’s a twig, I’ll be right.” Xephos let out a soft whine as Lalna turned to go, fingers tangled in his lab coat. Lalna’s heart did something complicated as he carefully removed his hand before brushing a palm over his forehead, cool against Xephos’ fever. The other man sighed before relaxing into Honeydew's hold, muttering something incomprehensible into the dwarf’s neck that made him chuckle. 

“Come back quick, right? I don’t need to go running around looking for you too.”

[jackass-jones]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[gobbluthbutagirl]

the other week my dad’s aunts(sisters of his dad, who died before i was born) came to visit and it was aunt jan who’s like 79 and a democrat and lives in california and aunt karen who’s like 84 and a republican and lives in idaho. and they had driven across the country in aunt jan’s subaru with the “make america kind again” bumper sticker and aunt karen told a story about how when she was 20 years old she was supposed to go grocery shopping and when she got to the grocery store she parked next to another car that was the same make and model as hers and that person’s groceries were already inside their vehicle just sitting there and she tried her key on their car and it worked so she simply stole their groceries out of there, re-locked their car, and used the money she had planned to spend on groceries to go bowling instead

[fobnsfwdoodles]

ok no joke but the lil boob person with the curly hair looks just like me when I wear a bra and have my hair up in a half-bun, I feel validated as all hell <3 it's like, fuck yeah, imaginary drawing Patrick would find me hot, must be doing something right

-🔷

Yay!!!! 🙏🙏🙏 I LOVE when I accidentally draw y'all!!