#BEFORE YOU SAY IT I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT GHOSTS

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙

[majinbangus]

I keep thinking abt reader being mad at guard dog Simon, so when they go shopping she holds him back and points to the sign on the door,

“No pets allowed.”

before walking into the shop without him.

ahahaha -> more here

He raises his eyebrow when you point it out, one hand pressed firmly against his chest while the other juts a thumb out at the sign. His foot drops from where it was suspended in the air, about to follow you into the store. Ghost tilts his head appraisingly at you.

"Oh, tha's how it's gonna be, innit?" A smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Cute how you're acting out. He's not even mad, simply amused at your clever pettiness. "This the game you wanna play?"

The hand on his chest tenses and curls at the fingertips, an irritated scowl gracing your expression. It's the exact opposite of his own entertained one. You're so fun when you get like this. More biting. It keeps things interesting. It gives Ghost an excuse to bite back.

"I'm not playing any games, Simon," You claim, emphasizing it with a push to his chest, but it does nothing. He doesn't give you the satisfaction of making him step back because you get so titillated when he's a dick. "The store says no pets allowed, so you're gonna have to wait out here. And if you continue to bark nonsense like a mutt, I'm gonna put a muzzle on you."

His eyes flash something wild and Ghost is about to shuffle a threatening step towards you, but thanks to Soap, you're spared from his retaliation when he intervenes, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, no need to be so mean to the dog." He sends you an admonishing look before giving Ghost a more forgiving one. "You're a good boy, Simon; I know you'll have to stay out here, but you'll get a treat once we get home if you're good."

Soap pointedly squeezes your shoulder when he says treat and you give an undignified squawk. "But he's been so—"

"I think he's been behavin' just fine."

"For you, maybe—"

"That's enough." Soap frowns at you and begins shepherding you into the store. "Don't go actin' like an untrained pup; you're supposed to be Ghost's owner. Act like it."

"... Fine," You grumble under your breath, "but he only gets one treat from me. If he wants more, he'll have to earn it."

"Aye, f'course." Soap looks over his shoulder at Ghost with a puckish grin. "Hear that, Ghost? Think you can earn more treats?"

"Naturally," Ghost says, locking eyes with you when you sneak a peek at him. His lips spread up into something cocky. "I'll get what I want in the end. I always do."

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Dominant Ghost, Submissive Reader, Rough Ghost, Groping, Grinding, Spanking (briefly), TW: Dub-con

Reader POV:

"I’m not asking about him. I’m asking about you. I need to know you want me too.”

His last words echoed in your mind as your stomach erupted in butterflies. The heady scent of cigarette smoke, the invasion of your personal space, his frank admission. It was all starting to make your head spin. Hot breath washing over your neck and calloused hands dropped low on your sides, rubbing delicious circles over your hips. It was all too much to focus through.

A strong current of arousal was threatening to pull you under as the hem of your bathrobe eased on your thighs. And if you didn’t stop this now, there’d be no going back. So, despite the lust beginning to coil in your belly and the rosy flush over your cheeks, you forced yourself to shift away from his advance.

"Ghost, don’t," you gasped, fighting desperately to keep a clear head. "We can't."

You pushed away from the wall and started towards the door. But you only made it a few steps when his hand clamped down on your arm and dragged you right back.

“No,” he snapped, slamming the other against the wall above your shoulder and effectively caging you in place. “You don't get to walk away. I need to know."

His hold dropped to your wrist, yanking your hand to his groin. And no matter how much you resisted, you couldn’t hold back a whispered moan. Your hand pressed against his cock. His excitement, his size. Though the towel remained in place, it left hardly anything to the imagination. Ghost guided your hand over his throbbing length, ensuring you felt every inch of his raging need.

"This," he hissed, lightly thrusting into your palm with a growl. "This is what you've done to me. This is all your fault. And you think I’m just gonna let you walk away? No, you’re not leaving me without an answer. Use your words and tell me what I want to know."

"Ghost, I'm with König," you spoke the words like a mantra. Like a reminder not just for him, but for both of you.

"I didn’t ask who you’re with. I’m asking who you want. Who you need.” He was growling now, arousal and annoyance quickly driving him to frustration. “The other night. When I touched you? When you let me touch you and then tried to cover your ass by begging me to let you go. Did you mean it?”

“Ghost, I-,” you stammered, unsure of what to say.

You couldn’t go there. You couldn’t let him make you go there. You couldn’t let him make you say yes. You and König were still exclusive. Though the idea of a third was on the table, König hadn’t given the greenlight for anything yet. And telling Ghost such a thing was even a possibility would only embolden him further and confuse you both. But Ghost wasn’t backing down. And he wouldn’t settle for silence. You whimpered as he yelled in your face.

“Did you fucking mean it!”

“No!”

The word echoed through the room as both of you froze. You clamped your hands over your mouth in horror, mortified at what you had somehow just said. Where did that even come from? The unfiltered truth had been startled out of you, the word slipping past your lips before your brain could try to stop it. What had you just done? What the hell had you just done?

You shook your head frantically, trying to somehow reverse everything back to five seconds earlier. All this time, he had been wedging his foot in the door, and now you had practically flung it wide open for him. If you couldn’t fend him off then, you were utterly hopeless now.

“Wait,” you rushed, frantically trying to reverse your admission. “That wasn’t what I meant to say, I-”

Ghost growled, the sound vibrating low in his chest, hands seizing your hips in a bruising grip. His nails gouged into your hips as he whipped you around. There was no time to react before your cheek was pressed against the tile wall. Ghost lunged forward, sandwiching you firmly between it and his body. Pinpricks of moisture seeped from his chest, through the thin silk of your robe, and onto your skin as he melded his torso against your back.

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” he rasped.

Ghost yanked the tie of your robe, causing its front to fall open. You braced for the frigid sting of cold tile. But as soon as your bare skin was made available, two large hands clutched your breasts from behind. Ghost squeezed at the pillowy mounds of flesh, moaning hungrily against your neck. And though the tile was freezing cold, you gasped as your body flooded with intense warmth.

“God, I should have grabbed you the minute I laid eyes on you,” Ghost hummed, rutting against you. “You fucking tease.”

You whimpered at the friction, his girth thrusting against your ass. It seemed König had some competition because Ghost clearly wasn’t lacking when it came to size. The firm protrusion occasionally slipped beneath your robe, giving him a rush of added heat through the towel. You could feel him snarl and shudder at your back. His hips snapped forward, desperate for more of the same. The unexpected forcefulness slamming you against the tile.

“Ghost, wait!” You had to work hard to even get the words out past your own sounds of pleasure. But you knew you had to do something.

“No more waiting,” he panted, tossing his towel to the floor and letting out a loud moan when he could finally feel your bare skin against his cock. “I want you now.”

“No, wait! Just let me explain, please!”

With an exasperated sigh, he stilled. “You have thirty seconds. And I’m not stopping again, so you better make it good.”

He didn’t back off of you. His length remained firmly pressed against your ass and his hands fused to your body. But they dropped down to your waist and went still as he awaited your monologue. Not wanting to waste any time or risk him cutting you off, you rushed into your speech.

“Yes, I’m attracted to you! And yes, I want you too! But just before he left for practice, König admitted he’s really into threesomes and stuff. He wants to add a third to our relationship, okay? So if you just let me get my phone and let me ask him first, then we can do this with a clear conscience. Okay? Please? Then we’ll have all of this out in the open. If he agrees with it, you could be our third!”

Ghost paused, thinking the idea over. If he wanted to, he could flat out refuse and take you right there against the bathroom wall. Nothing was stopping him. And when he pressed in on you again, you assumed that was the option he had chosen.

"Where's your phone?" He huffed.

"In my room," you rushed. "It's in my room, on the bed!"

“Fine,” He whispered, gripping your waist painfully tight in his hands, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Don’t. Move. I’m gonna go get your phone. But I want your ass right where I left you when I come back. If you take so much as one step, I’ll know. Clear?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, your boldness quickly faltering. But you yelped in shock when he slapped your ass.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d been promoted to captain.”

Though his voice was saturated with sarcasm, the dry military humor was completely lost on you. You just stood there, stumbling for words until he finally spelled it out for you.

“I outrank you, princess,” Ghost hissed. “Always have, always will. So when I ask you a question, you say ‘yes sir’. Are we clear?”

Your face burned at the bold request, his brazen display of dominance sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine. It immediately snapped your inner submissive to attention, prompting you to quickly drop your eyes and comply.

“Y-yes, sir.”

A soft growl of approval was all you got in response. He gave your ass one final squeeze before he backed away and sauntered out of the bathroom.

Just as Ghost had directed, you obediently stayed exactly as he left you: cheek against the wall and robe hanging loosely around your body. You hadn’t heard the door close on his way out, so he’d left it wide open. And it was probably intentional. You hoped that no one else would come wandering through the barracks within the next few minutes. If another member of his team happened to wander through the barracks, you’d be in full view. A simple glance would reveal you standing there practically naked and standing directly in line with the doorway. The thought was mortifying, but that fear was likely the exact thing Ghost wanted you to feel. A bold exhibition of your obedience and complete submission to him. A clear reminder of who was in control and who was not. If such a thing happened, he’d probably get some twisted thrill out of it.

All of that in mind, you were beyond grateful when the sound of his footsteps returned to the room. And you were even more relieved when you heard the door swing shut behind him. But as soon as it had, you detected the unmistakable click of the lock turning. That one act posed as a double-edged sword. It meant there’d be no unwanted witnesses to your current state. But it also implied there’d be no escape for you. Yet another reminder of who wielded authority here.

As he nonchalantly entered your field of view, you could see that he’d kept his word. Ghost had your phone in hand and was lazily pacing back and forth behind you. And even though you desperately wanted to grab it, you knew better than to stray from your post. So you set your jaw and tried to be patient.

"Passcode?" Ghost barked, turning the lock screen toward you.

From his tone alone, you knew it wasn't a request. It was a command. So you hurriedly recited the four digit code to unlock your phone. And once you heard the soft click as it opened, you hoped he would finally pass it to you. But Ghost was in no hurry. He was taking his sweet time looking at doing who knows what, occasionally commenting on things he found particularly amusing.

"Really?" He asked, derisively.

"What?"

"Your background. You're one of those girls, huh? A furry?"

You blushed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. König had sent you a cute selfie a while ago. And you'd decided to edit it for fun. By the time you were finished with it, he had pink cat ears on his helmet, little whiskers sticking out of his hood, and a fluffy white tail. His helmet was decorated with various pink and purple hearts and small rainbows. It had been an inside joke the two of you had spent hours laughing over, so you'd saved it as your phone background for kicks.

"No," you said, letting out a nervous giggle. "It was just a joke."

Ghost shrugged, but he kept stalling and you kept fuming. He was taunting you and he was well aware of it. He was trying to drive you so mad with curiosity that you’d defy his order and step away from the wall. He wanted you to fail and you knew swift punishment would follow the split second you did. So you bit your lip and screwed your eyes shut, doing your best to block him out. Now, you could see him pressing buttons and typing.

"Ghost, what are you doing on my phone?"

"Nothing," he chuckled, swiping closed whatever application he had been in. "Added myself to your contacts for you. Just in case."

Ghost drew out the torturous suspense a bit while longer. But eventually, he returned to his previous position at your back.

“Since you behaved,” he hummed, tugging you back against his body. “You wanna text him now?”

You nodded hesitantly, keeping your movements small and slight. “Yes, sir.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy training you, princess. At ease, here you go.”

You slowly turned, head tilted back to watch his face in case this was just another ploy of his. But he didn’t stop you. He simply opened your messages, opened the conversation with König, and passed the phone to you. Then, he settled in to watch the suspenseful scene play out from above. Being half naked, locked in a bathroom, trapped between a wall and a massive man? All of those things were making it increasingly difficult to stay calm or focus. But as you began composing your message, you did your very best to muscle through. Now was not the time to be distracted.

You: Hey, love. I had an idea for the throuple thing you mentioned earlier?

Since König was still at practice, you knew there'd be at least a minute or two before he could reply. But fortunately, a text bubble appeared shortly afterward.

König: Sure. What's on your mind, Maus?

You: Well, I was wondering how you would feel about Ghost being our third. If you're okay with that, can I ask him?

König: Of course! He was my first pick too! That's actually what I was gonna ask you about later. So that's fine by me.

You: Okay. And if he says yes? Do I need to wait for you before… before doing anything with him?

Now that you were the one anxiously awaiting an answer, you could understand Ghost insistently pressing you for one earlier. The waiting, the not knowing? It was awful and it made you so anxious. And your heart hammered in your chest to see how he would respond. But when he did, there was no way to misconstrue his thoughts on the matter.

König: Not at all! Just tell me all about it later. Have fun, Maus!

I know this story includes some pretty intense themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story is intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 8

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, Diane is her own warning, Grey's Anatomy & alcoholism, uhm... hard to explain the last one without spoilering. You'll be fine 😂

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Oh boy, I'll save you guys long explanations. Life got in the way, so let's just all be glad we're back here 😅 Some of you brilliant sleuths already caught breadcrumbs of my scheming in the last part, so here's The One You've Been Waiting For...

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

Your boot soles thudded on the floor as you dashed inside the station, your questioning look aimed at Jenny, who leaned against her desk with crossed arms and a stern brow. Beau was hot on your heels, just jogging in behind you. You practically raced him from the car across the parking lot.

“She’s in Interrogation Room 3,” Jenny informed you.

“Is she cuffed?” Beau asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger caused by concern. He had a whole car ride to the department to rile himself up and let his head spin with reasons. None of them soothing; all of them terrifying.

Jenny shook her head. “No. She’s not officially under arrest and hasn’t confessed yet, either. ‘Sides, she willingly came in and just all too happily sat down. She’s clearly playing a game. I’d be careful.”

“Alright, thanks,” Beau said and looked at you. “How you wanna do this?”

“Let’s just go in and talk to her. See what she has to say and what angle she’s playing,” you suggested, and Beau agreed with a nod, both of you falling into step as you headed down the hallway.

“My favorite couple. There you are,” Diane greeted you with a smirk that could only be described as lunacy as soon as you and Beau walked into the interrogation room. “Hope I didn’t disturb your evening.”

“Not at all,” you replied with an easy smile and took a seat across from her, Beau settling down right next to you and leaning back in his chair. “What can we do for you, Diane?”

“Well, I figured I come here before you call in the cavalry. There’s no need for all this drama. I have a feeling you two have enough of that,” she quipped and grinned devilishly at the both of you.

“So, you waltzed in here to confess to twenty-four murders?” Beau arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Beau and you shared a look. Neither of you liked this, but you supposed you had to play along if it led to a confession. You nodded at Diane. “Fine, what d’you wanna know?”

Diane grinned in triumphant satisfaction and folded her arms on the metal table, curiously leaning forward. “Look, I think it’s cute you two found each other… after divorce and death, of course. ‘Cause who likes a cheater, right?” she posed theoretically, her smirk getting wider. “I guess, for me at least, it’s just hard to believe there’ve never been any feelings before that. Seems kinda odd to me.”

You smiled wryly. “Well, for me at least, it seems kinda odd and, frankly, hard to believe some psychotic bitch would murder over twenty innocent people just because her husband was a cheating dirtbag. Yet, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed, Agent,” Diane snarked with a pleased smile. “And I’d be wary throwing the word ‘innocent’ around so carelessly. After all, just look at you two. I mean, I’m not saying you’ve planned this little hot love affair, but c'mon! What, no lingering looks? No fluttering hearts, dirty thoughts, or wistful what-ifs?”

You remained cool and held your gaze stern. No quiver of a lip, no twitch of an eye, no flinch of a muscle betrayed you. But Beau must’ve signaled something when Diane’s eyes drifted to him. She tilted her head with a delighted sneer forming on her face. Your heart halted in your chest. You knew she’d locked in on a target like a lioness on the prowl.

“Whoop, Sheriff Arlen, do you have something to tell me? You seem awfully quiet and… shifty,” Diane prodded the tip of her metaphorical knife into his ribcage, prying it open just enough to see inside. “If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

“Okay, enough,” you snapped and drew a line in the sand, noticing how Beau withdrew more and more upon her words. She was getting to him and enjoying it. “Neither of us has done anything wrong, got it?”

Diane chuckled amusedly. “Sheriff Arlen, you should learn from your girlfriend here. She’s better at acting than you are. Or is it lying?” Her questioning gaze turned to you.

“What d’you want, huh?” you prompted with stern annoyance, hoping to take some heat off of Beau. “You want some weird confession, so you can throw one of us into a bunker?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent. We’re just having a friendly chat among colleagues, getting to know each other.” She grinned, her icy gray eyes sparkling with devilish joy. She leaned closer to Beau, circling in on him. She could smell he was close to a breaking point and aimed her sledgehammer at him. “Tell me, Sheriff, were you happy when your partner died? I mean, you must’ve been. She was finally free and all yours for the taking. Is that why your marriage crumbled so soon after his death? Why you followed her all the way to Mexico, leaving your family behind? Be honest, did you lead her husband into that warehouse on purpose?”

“Shut up!” Beau yelled and bristled, his voice trembling with anger as did every single muscle of his. He jumped up from his seat and kicked the chair roughly against the wall before storming out and slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shocked, you rose from your seat as well and threw Jenny a worried look through the one-way mirror. As you followed Beau outside, you could still hear Diane’s heinous laugh.

November 2020

‘¿Recuerdas que en tu infancia creías en cuentos de hadas? En la fantasia de lo que podría ser tu vida. Tu vestido blanco, un príncipe azul que te llevaría en sus brazos a un castillo sobre una colina…’

A knock on your door rattled you and snapped your attention away from the small, old TV in your room. The image was grainy at best, and you were sure the television itself was bought sometime in the early 2000s. Yet, you still managed to hook it up to your laptop and stream a few shows. Drinking and watching television was all you had for entertainment down here whenever you were on the lay-low and had some time off.

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

You hurriedly blew your nose in one of the tissues in your hand and wiped the tears out of your eyes. Bolting into the bathroom first, you did a quick check of your appearance in the stained, wonky mirror. Well, good enough. Who were you trying to impress? You were a grieving widow. People expected you to look like shit.

Beau blinked at you as the door opened. He offered you a friendly smile, although he could tell you had cried again. You never admitted it, always telling him you were fine and brushing away any and all of his concerns. But your red and puffy eyes were hard to hide and even harder to ignore when he stopped by your room at night. It broke his heart every single time.

“Hey, I know you haven’t eaten dinner yet, darlin’,” he said and tried not to sound too scolding. Since Randy’s death you’d been basically on a grief diet, although you seemed to be more willing to eat since you’d come to Mexico. But Beau had taken it upon himself to ensure your stomach was always full.

“Uh, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said quietly and were already keen to close the door to get rid of him again. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn’t.

Beau frowned and already slid his boot between the door and its jamb. “You know I’m not leaving till you ate. And since you’re being particularly difficult tonight, I’m just gonna have to watch you till that whole bag is empty. Now, trust me. This ain’t fun for me, either. Don’t make me spoon-feed you and do airplane noises. It’s been a while, but I have experience in that field. You wanna hear my lecture about your essential vitamins and minerals again?”

You sighed dramatically and were close to a whine. “Beau, I’m really not in the mood right now. Can you please just–” You stopped when you noticed the man wasn’t even listening to you. With a curiously furrowed brow, he cocked his head and leaned inside your room with a skillful weight shift, his green eyes focusing on the TV.

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

‘¿Por qué siempre dormirmos en mi casa? ¿O no tienes una?’

“What are you watching?” Beau had fully stepped inside your room, and you knew your probability of kicking him out again sunk by the second. You sighed once more and closed the door behind you two.

“Grey’s Anatomy in Spanish. I already know the episodes, so I figured I could learn a little. I already forgot most of it from school,” you replied.

“Huh. Never watched this show.” Yet, he sat down on the foot of your bed and seemed hooked. His eyes were glued to the screen, brow lightly creased above the bridge of his nose that showed his interest. If you had popcorn, you would’ve handed it to him.

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled nonetheless. Randy had been the same. He’d teased you for watching till he caught one episode and was immediately enthralled. Afterward, you weren’t allowed to watch a single episode without him anymore.

“You wanna watch with me?” You grabbed the bag of food and crawled onto your bed, leaning against the headboard. You quickly discarded the tissues that were strewn all over your mattress. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed them yet, or you would’ve received a look full of worry and pity.

“Sure.” Beau nodded and smiled at you over his shoulder, happy you had decided to eat, after all. “So, what’s this show about?”

“A hospital in Seattle. But honestly, everyone’s just sleeping with everyone…”

It took a while till you had explained all the intricacies of each relationship to him. Fortunately, this was only the first season. He gasped when you informed him the show had seventeen of it – so far. By the end of the episode, he had joined you by the headboard, sitting next to you as you shared the remaining tacos.

‘Me gusta el helado de café, whisky de malta de una sola destilería, de vez en cuando un buen habano.’

“Ah! Now that’s a home,” Beau declared with a broad and longing smile, raising his beer bottle to the TV. “You know, I’ve always wanted an Airstream trailer exactly like this.”

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

His brow quirked. “Is that Spanish for trailer?”

“Yes, he just said it. You need to pay attention,” you chided playfully and took a sip from your beer.

“Hey, look, I’m just glad I can keep up with who’s sleeping with who, alright? Don’t need to add Spanish vocabulary to the mix,” Beau quipped, making you giggle. “I actually almost bought a trailer like that when me and Carla first got married.”

You grinned knowingly. “Lemme guess, Carla said no and almost shot you?”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, she definitely came close that time. But Emily was already on the way, so I guess it would’ve been impractical with a baby.”

“Smart choice.”

As your eyes traveled back to the TV, Beau’s gaze landed on you. He watched as your cheeks moved when you laughed with your whole heart. How your pink, full lips sealed around the bottle opening whenever you sipped on your beer. How your shimmering hair fell into your face in waves as you leaned forward and hugged your knees. Lingering looks.

“You wanna open a bottle of tequila with me and watch another episode?” you asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s do that,” he agreed, swallowing lightly. A part of him almost felt caught in his shameless staring. But he was willing to do anything as long as it kept you from crying yourself to sleep for another night.

Jumping up from the bed, you sauntered over to the mini bar and bent down, hauling a bottle of tequila from the small fridge you’d stored in there earlier. Beau tried not to stare at the curve of your ass and how tightly those dark blue jeans hugged it. But he couldn’t control his heart as it undeniably accelerated and thumped loudly against its prison. Fluttering hearts.

Four episodes and two Margarita pitchers in, you stretched with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open. You glanced at Beau with an amused smile as he was still transfixed by the TV and heavily engaged in the show.

“I’m beat. You mind if we turn in?” you checked and laughed a little when his green eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll head back to my room,” he said, nodding. “You, uh, wanna do this every night, maybe? I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do here… We could hang out and binge-watch, as the kids say. Netflix and chill.”

You snorted. “Beau, that’s not what you think it means…”

His brow furrowed. “Well, what does it mean?”

“Sex,” you said bluntly and watched his mouth open and close. It was rare to render that man speechless.

Beau pursed his lips, his cheeks redder than the desert sand. “Yeah, uh, no Netflix and chill, then.” He cleared his throat a couple of times while you stifled your laughs. “Can I just finish this episode before I go?”

You giggled, getting up from the bed. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need some bathroom time before, anyways.”

As you sauntered into the small, dingy bathroom, you briefly glanced back and saw Beau’s focus was already back on the sexy doctors. You laughed a little, shaking your head before you began to wash your face and slip into your pajamas, which were just a pair of sweat shorts and an old college shirt of Randy’s. Go Cougars!

Unbeknownst to you, Beau’s gaze didn’t remain on the TV for long. At first, he only caught a glimpse of you from his periphery in the bathroom mirror through the cracked door. For a moment, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away as you shed out of your shirt. But when your bra came off as well, he averted his eyes shamefully back to the TV. His mind, however, still wandered, incapable of shaking the image of you, various unholy ideas gathering for a villainous summit. Dirty thoughts.

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

“Still hooked, huh?” Amused, you arched a brow at him as you strolled out of the bathroom and saw he was still enchanted by the magic of dramatic television.

“He’s gonna go back to the cheatin’ ex, isn’t he?” Beau asked without looking at you. He sat on the bed with arms crossed and his brow scrunched.

You pressed your lips together as you smothered another laugh. “Oh, no spoilers from me, but it’s a bit of a ride. And we haven’t even gotten to Dr. Caliente yet,” you said, grinning.

You waited a moment for Beau to catch the hint that you wanted to go to bed. But soon you realized it wasn’t going to happen. The man had done a full deep dive into that show, and there was no way of pulling him back out.

“You know, you can stay and keep watching if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ve been sleeping with the TV on, anyways,” you said.

His gaze met yours, brow finally rising with realization. “Oh, uh, sorry. No, I can go. Let you catch some–” His eyes wandered back to the TV before he shook his head and tried to refocus. He blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s really okay. You can stay. I don’t care,” you assured him with a soft smile and climbed under the covers, resting your head on the pillow. You switched off the lamp by your bedside table, the blue glow of the screen remaining the only source of light.

“Maybe just this episode,” he mumbled, his shoulders deflating as he sunk back into a more comfortable position again.

“This is nice,” you noted with a blissful sigh and closed your eyes. “I kinda hate being alone.”

Beau watched you as you peacefully fell asleep, the TV suddenly forgotten. For once you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. Tears, nightmares, and loneliness gone. And he wondered – what it would be like if he watched you fall asleep every night. What if he was still there in the morning. What if he could hold you as you wore his shirt. Then, the guilt came swiftly like the rising tide and washed those thoughts away. Wistful what-ifs.

“What the hell happened in there?” you hissed as quietly as possible as you caught up with Beau in the lowly lit hallway of the station. Luckily, the other cops had enough sense to stay away and keep their distance while the two of you hashed things out.

Beau dragged a hand over his face, kept his palm clasped on his mouth as he paced in a circle. You were surprised he hadn’t punched a wall yet, judging by the tension in his shoulders.

“You can’t let her get to you,” you reminded him gently, your face softening when you noticed how distraught and upset he really was. What Diane said to him must’ve cut deep.

“You know it’s not true, right? What she said in there? I-I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t… Fuck!” His eyes were brimming with desperate tears, his breathing quick. You could hear his heart race from feet away.

“Of course not. She’s a deranged psychopath,” you emphasized, although you didn’t understand why you had to spell it out for him. He already knew that. “Why are you so upset? Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s thriving off it like a hyena.”

“I know. I just-…” He took a deep breath. “What if she’s right?”

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Me. Us,” he said, not making necessarily more sense. “What if it’s true, huh?” He blinked at you and swallowed harshly, completely out of breath. “Look, uhm… I-I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never admitted it before, but recently, things have become a lot clearer to me…” He paused for a moment, rubbing his mouth with two fingers before he found your eyes again. “I’ve always had feelings for you, you know? There’s always been this… pull. Even back then. Since the first time I met you.”

You inhaled sharply, your lungs incapable of fitting more air as you held your breath for several heartbeats. “Beau, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it is,” he said. The tortured tone of his voice pained you. “I mean, I would’ve never done anything. You need to know that, okay? I would’ve never hurt you or Randy. I never would’ve come between you two.”

“I know that,” you assured him. You wanted to take his hands in yours, touch him, hold him. But you knew it would only make the turmoil of emotions worse instead of better, like pouring oil into the fire.

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose and finally took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers as you squeezed them. “I know all of that,” you said, his brow rising in bewildered surprise. “In terms of being honest… I guess a part of me always knew you felt this way, but I never let myself go there. And yeah, considering everything, it’s only natural to feel guilty. But you’ve still done nothing wrong. We’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t control how you feel. Neither can I. And I’m not saying everything always was exactly right, and we did everything by the book, but I loved Randy with all my heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else… And now, I love you. But it was never at the same time, you know?”

Beau pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, kissing your crown. “No, I know. Trust me. I know that part.”

“I love you, okay?” You tiptoed to claim his lips, putting your whole heart into the kiss. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wouldn’t lie, either. “Diane doesn’t get to use that against us. Everything that happened, everything we’ve done right or wrong – that’s between you and me… and maybe God at some point. But surely not that psychotic bitch in there. She’s doesn’t know what we think or feel, so don’t give her ammunition, alright?”

Beau nodded and pecked your lips, his hands caressing your cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Jenny cleared her throat as she carefully snuck up on you. “You guys okay?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. What d’you got?”

“Well, since Diane walked in and became our prime suspect, the new DA on the case signed a search warrant for her property, office, car, and all her devices,” Jenny informed you.

“Alright, take Pops with you and head to her house first. Call me if you find somethin’ we can burn that witch with,” Beau ordered, putting his sheriff hat back on, jumping into the saddle full-throttle.

“On it, boss.” Jenny gave him a resolute nod and hurried down the hall.

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

As you opened the motel room door, you found Beau on your doorstep with a giant grin on his freckled face and not one but two bottles of tequila. One in each hand that he joyfully wiggled in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Christmas was two weeks ago, payaso.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here, so merry belated Christmas,” he retorted and strolled right in as you held the door open for him. “Can’t believe you stayed here and didn’t go home for Christmas.”

“Meh, wasn’t in the mood to be placated and pitied by my whole family. I know they all mean well, but if I get one more concerned head tilt and a ‘How are you holding up, sweetie?’, tendré que apuñalar a alguien,” you huffed.

Beau narrowed his eyes at you, slightly amused. “I only understood the word ‘stab’, but I think I get the gist,” he joked, laughing. “I see your Spanish is getting better. So, how was your depressing and lonely Christmas without your family?”

“Nice guilt trip, asshole,” you retorted playfully and scoffed. “Great, actually. I went out with the guys from our team who stayed here, too. Got insanely drunk on some Christmas cocktail Ignacio created. And some hot guy taught me how to Salsa dance. He got a little handsy towards the end, which, granted, is the most action I’ve seen in five months, so…”

Beau’s lips thinned as he weighted your words. “Huh, so to recap: you got wasted with five guys in a dingy bar and second base with some stranger. Sounds like Christmas-y fun.”

You frowned slightly, watching him open one of the bottles of tequila. “Alright, there were no bases being hit, Judge Judy. How was your Christmas?”

“Not as fun, I can tell you that much,” Beau muttered and gulped some tequila straight from the bottle.

Your nose scrunched, lips pursed. “You and Carla got into it again?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” he replied. “I’ve only been home twice, including Christmas. You’d think she’d be more happy to see me, but instead I get yelled at for not being home more and criticized like I’m some drunk.”

Your narrowed look drifted to the bottle of liquor tightly clasped in his hands as he plopped down on the bed with a sigh. “Well, you know, not really making an argument for yourself there, gaucho.”

He scowled at you. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

You pursed your lips and hesitated briefly. “No… But I do think you have a slight issue with... occurrence and... volume.”

He sent you a small glare. “That’s the same thing, just different words.”

“Look, I get it. It’s not like I’ve been a healthy example these past months,” you said, hoping a softer approach would work. You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s been hard for all of us. Grief wrecks you. But you have a family to think about. Maybe it’s time you go home… for good.”

His brow drew into creases, green eyes drilling a hole into you. “Do you want me to go?”

Your lips parted for a moment, reluctant to answer as his question hung in the air between you two. “It’s not about what I want. You should do what’s best for you.”

Beau considered your words, his head bobbing. “I wanna stay. I need to see this through. For Randy,” he declared, although it was only partially true. Another part of him stayed for you. There was an electrostatic force, invisible to the naked heart and irresistible to the free mind. A force that kept him in your orbit and bonded his atoms with yours.

Maybe you should’ve told him to go home, been more insistent on making him leave, clearer on what was best. But truthfully and selfishly so, you liked having him around. He was your constant, your little piece of home in a strange land and an even stranger new life. And you didn’t want to navigate this new life alone.

“You sure?” you still asked for the sake of your conscience, but the determination on his face over his decision made your heart sing in relief.

“I’m sure. Just wish things were easier…”

Walking back into the interrogation room, you smiled victoriously as you slapped a folder full of evidence on the metal table in front of Diane. The deputies had found “a buttload” in Poppernak’s words.

Regardless, you knew Diane wasn’t stupid. If the deputies found something, she had wanted you to find it. For some reason, she wanted to be arrested. But you didn’t care what sick game she was playing. Cuffing her meant there’d be no more bodies, no more victims.

She gave you a titillated sneer, glimpsing at the file in front of her before finding your eyes again. She bit her lip, smirking. “Oooh, lookey, what you found there,” she mocked.

“It’s over, Diane. You’re under arrest for multiple murders among a plethora of other charges. But you already know that,” you told her firmly.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Diane did as told without any protest. She grinned at you the whole time when Beau manhandled her roughly into her handcuffs, bending her over the metal table as he read her the Miranda rights. You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in your stomach, though. You had your killer, but somehow this felt far from over. You knew she had an ace up her sleeve and was waiting to lay it on the table.

“But we were just getting started,” she snarled. “Aren’t we having fun?”

“Fun usually looks a little different for me,” Beau retorted and forced her back onto the chair as soon as she was cuffed.

“I bet it does, Sheriff,” she purred with a flirtatious glimmer in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll wait with my confession till tomorrow. Let you two lovebirds enjoy your last night together.”

Beau and you shared a wary look at that. But deep in your heart, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart. And you hoped Beau knew it, too.

“Look, bitch, I don’t care what you think you’ve planned, but it won’t drive a wedge between us. All it’s gonna do is piss us off more, got it?” you threatened and leaned forward on the table with an angrily knit brow.

Diane chuckled. “Confident. I always liked you, Agent. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’ve got in store for you?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation. You looked up at Beau and rose from your seat. “Let’s go. She’s not gonna talk tonight.”

Beau nodded, putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside the door. And just as your hand reached the handle, Diane decided to play her ace of hearts.

“It’s about your husband,” she noted innocently. You could hear the satisfaction in her voice as your whole body stiffened, muscles freezing. Beau felt it, too. His heart began to race. “Dead husband, of course. I always forget that part. Silly me.”

Beau’s hand on your back gave you a soft caress, telling you it was okay to turn around and find out. You didn’t want to care. And most of all, you didn’t want Beau to see that you did. But as you met his forest-green eyes, they were full of understanding.

“What about him?” you asked bravely, your chin held high as you faced her.

Her grin widened before her gaze wandered to Beau. “It’s in my pocket. Mind giving me a hand, Sheriff? You can even touch. I know you have a hard time keeping those hands to yourself,” she taunted.

You scoffed exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Agent. Let me have a little fun. I’m about to be felt up by enough women,” she quipped.

You ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and holding her in place as your other hand dived into her back pocket. Your brow furrowed as your fingers identified a small plastic stick. Your frown deepened as you pulled out a familiar thumb drive. It wasn’t the first one you had received from her.

Twenty-five.

Had she taken another victim before giving herself up? What was so special about this one? What did it have to do with Randy? Did he ever cheat on you? Did Beau know?

You found that quite unbelievable. In fact, you knew there was no chance in hell that was true. But that did nothing to ease your conscience.

Your hand trembled in sync with your palpitating heartbeats. You tried to steady it as best as you could and keep your jumpy nerves in line as you slipped the small drive into its designated outlet on your laptop, not wanting the team that had gathered around and behind you to catch on to your unnerving emotions.

As you clicked on the MP4 file, your heart came to a standstill when a video popped open in the player. Pressing Play, you sucked in a breath and then forgot to breathe at all.

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

It felt like suffocating. Like jumping off a steep seaside cliff and drowning. Your body hit the ocean rocks; your heart split open.

It only took Beau a second longer to catch on. The horror in your voice had put him on immediate alert before he recognized the figure on the screen, too.

As your head spun and your stomach turned upside down, you couldn’t find any words and bolted outside. You needed fresh air. You needed to breathe. And you needed to goddamn puke.

“Beau, what’s going on? Who’s the guy on the video? You know him?” Jenny asked, her gaze worriedly flashing in the direction you had fled.

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Chapter 9: Marooned – NOVEMBER 29

Dun, dun, dun... The dead have risen in Montana! This is where it becomes a Walking Dead crossover (at least if you ask Donno 😂). Did you call the little resurrection action beforehand? 👀 Lemme know all your wild thoughts in the comments! 💭

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

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@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[fandonnavyce]

Ecto-Implosion 2024

Credit to @chaseacer-ghostedition for their amazing art.Fic below

The table broke the silence with a loud complaint. With heavy groans, the table cracked in two, and the collapsed ghostling began melting on top of the broken heap; a smashed table and its splattered breakfast. Dripping flesh, spilling like tipped soup, oozed and mixed with the food, making a runny mash and green milky mess stick and stain the mansion’s expensive carpet.  

Dan leapt back to get out of the splash zone as the ghostling struggled to get up in a puddle of their own ecto, the smushed food, and broken crockery. Feeling a little homicidal about the ruined meal, Dan fired up an ecto-blast - no need to go ghost to finish off a ghost that can barely keep itself together. Dan fully aimed to turn the intruder into a burnt smear.

“No, Stop!”

Vlad shouts as he forcibly moves in-between them to block Dan. Dan rears back in sheer surprise. His ecto-blast fizzles out and a pair of red eyes stare at Vlad in wide disbelief. Dan's utterly bewildered at Vlad's vehemence in stopping him. Dan felt his lips twist into snarl. His chest ached with defensive hurt at the implied reproval and rejection in Vlad’s actions of Dan’s actions. This hurt surged when Vlad, without further word or explanation, dismisses Dan and turns his back on him in favour of giving his attention to the ghostling instead. The ghost that had so rudely and messily intruded breakfast. 

Dan watched Vlad get on his knees and, whilst skirting the disgusting mess the ghostling had made, Vlad softly approached the intruder. But the moment Vlad opened his mouth to say something, he got punched in the face. 

“I know I deserve that. But -” Vlad gets scratched on the other cheek. The man takes a deep breath. “I” and Vlad catches the third blow in his hands - that final blow had been the weakest of the three. Dan sneers at the feral behaviour. 

“The fuck? Is it rabid?” Dan calls out derisively. 

“Language,” Vlad reprimands Dan.

“Who the fuck are you calling an it?!” The ghostling snarls, wriggling and wrenching their hand free from Vlad's grasp before unsteadily pulling itself onto its feet. Vlad easily lets the ghostling go, with no reprimand for its language Dan sulkily notes. And still Vlad, now standing, continues to give it his full attention. 

“Enough. I understand that I very much deserve your wrath, but I'd rather you not waste your energy when you're so clearly not well. Let me help you,” Vlad patiently offers. Dan crossed his arms and huffed, as he rolled his eyes. Dan could not see why, after being so violently rebuffed, Vlad even still bothered.

“Over my fully dead melted body will I accept your help Vlad,” the feral ghostling snarled, “I'm going to Danny.”

“Excuse me?!” Dan pulls a face, “are you talking to me?”

The ghostling pulls her attention away from Vlad and for the first time, it properly sees Dan face to face. At first their expression (what of their face that isn’t gooey and dripping) is one of shock. Then it morphs into outrage, flickers with disgust, as it settles into a sneer. The ghostling sends Vlad a venomous look.

“I see that you've finally got the son you've always wanted,” Daniel’s failed clone snarled up at him.  

Taking a deep breath, lashing out in anger would be the wrong thing to do, Vlad then chose to speak to the failed clone in a conciliatory tone. 

“Ok I know what it looks like but it's not what it looks like,” he tries to placate. It’s unsuccessful. The failure shoots Vlad a deadpan look. Vlad barely manages to suppress a flinch.

“So he’s not a clone of Danny?” 

Vlad grimaces at the pointed and justified accusation. From behind, Dante belligerently interjects.

“No I’m not. Now who the fuck are you?” he vulgarly asked.  Vlad deeply sighs. ‘Truly this is karma’, he thinks to himself.

“This is my daughter, Danielle.” The words lie heavy on his tongue as the meaning of what he just said slowly settles in his mind. The implications and the responsibility he had so easily forgotten and discarded smacks him full force in his face. This disaster of a clone was his daughter! And she was desperately hurt.

“I beg your fucking pardon,” Dante shouts at Vlad before turning to glare Danielle. He looks at her with extreme distaste.

Danielle meets Dante’s glare with a sharp sardonic smile, her lips ready to unleash barbed words in retaliation. 

Vlad quickly looks back and forth between his two children. He feels a rising panic at his loss of control of the situation and a sinking sense of alarm at their burgeoning hostility. 

“Oh no, did you think you were an only child?” Danielle asks with saccharine sweet venom. Her eyes glint with malice. “Nah Vlad’s made lots of us clones.” She cocks her head and faux-lightly asks, “I wonder how many failures lie between me and you?” 

Her words were initially directed at his son to hurt him, but Dani then switched targets. She aims her rage onto Vlad and stares him down. Vlad is bereft of speech, guilt and shame had seized his tongue. From behind, Vlad hears Dante sputter back an answer. 

“No, I mean yes, I mean shut up.” Rage and confusion has clearly deadened his son’s usual eloquence.

Dante moves out from behind Vlad and into his line of sight. He excludes Dani by pointedly turning his back on her, thus also entirely blocking Vlad’s view of Danielle. Dante locks in full direct eye contact with Vlad.  

“You have a daughter ?! Is that thing,” Dante blindly points, “supposed to be my sister?!” he whines with teenage entitlement. Blasely lounging on the floor behind Dante in a gooey puddle of her own ectoplasm, Danielle interrupts. 

“Don’t worry, Vlad’s not my father,” she reassures Dante in a relaxed tone between attempts to mop and squeegee her melting body back together. “I disowned him the day he left me to die because I wasn’t Danny’s perfect clone son,” she seethes.

Dante silently waits for Vlad to give his side of the story.

“Do I have a daughter? In a manner of speaking, yes.” Vlad tentatively admits. “After all, I am responsible for her creation. But as you can see our familial ties have been severed. That being said,” Vlad moves forward so that speak to his daughter over Dante’s shoulder, “Danielle please, will you let me help you? You are quite literally dissolving before my eyes.”

Danielle loudly scoffed, “You never cared before.”

“And I apologise for that. My previous behaviour, especially towards you, has been shameful.”

Danielle freezes and looks up at Vlad, truly gobsmacked. 

“Who even are you?” Danielle gasps. “Are you a clone?”

Vlad flinches. “No I’m not a clone,” he denies. He finds himself surprisingly hurt by her derisive disbelief. But it was understandable. Danielle, was the child that he had for a time raised like a daughter, and he had betrayed her. For the single act of not being a perfect copy of Daniel, he had not even wanted to save her. Why would she believe that he cared about her physical distress now when he had so callously proven that he had “never cared before”? Why wouldn’t she logically deduce that such an offer couldn’t possibly come from him? Now Danielle was staring up at him with utter revulsion. 

From the floor Dani stared up at Vlad, who had just apologised and then denied being a clone, and wished she was anywhere but here, doing anything but this. She wished at least she had Danny there with her whilst she was dissolving into a puddle of goo. Danny, even if he didn’t have any Ecto-Dejecto on him, would at least be more helpful and reassuring, than Vlad and his awful, moody, perfect clone son.

It had all gone so wrong, so quickly. One minute she was fine, the next she realised she was feeling really faint. By the time she realised it was because she was destabilising again it was already a race against time and she was losing. Badly. Being in a whole different state, flying took energy she couldn’t afford to lose but, if she was somehow going to make it to Danny, not flying would take time she couldn’t afford to waste. It had been exhausting. Both mentally and physically taxing to balance out her limited time of existence against her remaining distance and stamina. But she had almost made it. She had made it to Amity Park. All she had left to do was to find Danny. Or at least one of his friends, or even Valerie, or Danny’s sister Jazz. They hadn’t met before but she was still an option, a better option. But no. Instead when her powers guttered, and glitched, and she was free-falling to Earth, unable to restart her powers and go ghost, it was Vlad’s fucking mansion she fell through the roof of. This was a nightmare. She needed to leave. But her powers were out of reach, and her body was struggling to remain solid. 

Meanwhile that manipulative, heartless, piece of shit was pretending that he wanted to help her. As if she couldn’t see Danny’s shitty perfect clone standing angrily right there in front of her. Therefore Vlad was, evidently , still on his bullshit. So no, she wasn’t going to believe his nice words and promises, never again. She wasn’t going to be tricked, or used, or manipulated to somehow hurt Danny. Even if Vlad finally got his perfect clone son, there was no way he was done being a total bastard.         

“I only wish to redeem myself,” Vlad lies. He looks so apologetic and honest and genuine. Dani wants to scream in his face. It couldn’t be real . This was all lies. Vlad was just, once again , lying and trying to trick and manipulate her. Just like he had done to her, just like he had done to Valerie. 

Dani flings herself forward, heat seething beneath her skin, as she fires up an ecto-blast. Her fist is raised but before can she fires a shot, goo squelches between her clenched fingers.

Like a deflated balloon, Dani lets her anger go - her anger is causing her to destabilise faster. Defeated by her own body, Dani miserably watches her arm turns to liquid. She calmly pats her flesh back into shape like it’s soft clay. When she is done she’s surprised to find Vlad staring silently at her with a concerned and worried look on his face.

She asks squint-eyed, “Are you Ok? Are you like possessed? Have you been brainwashed, or like are you under magical influence or?”

“I'm sincere.”

“Sounds fake.”

“Why?!” 

Dani drags her judgemental gaze over to look side-long at the other clone in the room. She silently lets that make her argument for her. Vlad had the good grace to at least look sheepish.  

Dani looks Sad Vlad up and down. She internally groans at what she is considering doing. She looks Sad Vlad up and down again. Dani gustily sighs.

“Ok Vlad, if this isn't a trick AND you're not brainwashed AND you do want to help me then take me to Danny” demanded Dani. Vlad agrees suspiciously quickly. “I'm also going to need a bucket,” Dani orders. From her shoulder, a blob of flesh drips and stains Vlad’s expensive carpet.

Danny’s shitty perfect clone pulls a face, “Ew.”

The End

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what do you think tom riddle's boggart would take the form of?

I think it depends on when in his life we're talking about. I think, between WWII and his first death, his boggart would take the form of his own demise, but not just him dead. It's him being dead and forgotten and unknown.

When he's younger in the orphanage it's himself dying from the bombings and being just another muggle corpse to be cleaned off the streets. A poor orphan with no name, no legacy, and no memory. Becouse I don't think it's just death Tom fears, he wants validation, he wants people to know how great he is. He is terrified of dying as a nobody.

When older it would be this same idea I think. Dying unknown, just from different things and in different circumstances.

After he dies for the first time in Godric's Hallow I think it'll change though. I think it would become being helpless. Being stuck as a powerless wraith and being "less than the meanest ghost" I think would scare him more. After all, he already made sure he'd be remembered. Voldemort's name would be known. Now he's scared of death not because he won't get his recognition, but because he will become nothing. And he despises being powerless and weak more than anything else.

During most the second war, that would mostly be his boggart. But I think his boggart changes again.

I think, even though he keeps telling himself Harry is just Dumbledore's puppet and that he only survived due to Voldemort's own failures... I don't think Voldemort truly believes that. I think he slowly grew to fear Harry. If he encountered the boggart after Harry reappeared after dying in the forest, I think a weird zombified Harry coming after him and his Horcruxes would've been his boggart.

I think, during the second war even before that (post-book 5, I think), his boggart would've been Harry. Not because he was scared of what Harry would do to him, but because of what Harry represented. Harry is his one and only failure that he can't fix. He's a representation of Voldemort's own weakness and shortcomings (in Voldy's mind). So, I think his boggart might be Harry for what Harry means to him. As a stain on prefect Tom Riddle's perfect record.

I just think it's telling Voldemort was scared to check if Harry was dead in the forest, is all I'm saying.

[iguana-eyanna]

Did It All For You

Pairing: Wade Wilson x OC! Character

Summary: In his time in The Void, Wade meets someone that makes him realizes he shouldn't have taken you for granted.

Wade sits among his friends, looking at how he saved his family. Logan was by his right, talking with Laura while the rest Wade's mutant and human friends were laughing while having a last minute dinner.

The little mutt in his hands was eagerly jumping with glee. He couldn't help but look at his left at Vanessa who gave a courteous look at Wade.

"Hey."

Wade turns around to Logan.

"Talk to the girl."

Wade nods his head and turns to Vanessa.

Before he was about to speak, Logan smacked him in the arm to get his attention.

"Hey!" Wade half shouts.

"Not Vanessa. Her." Logan says, nodding towards the direction outside the window.

Wade looks beyond Vanessa and sees someone sitting by the fire escape. For some reason, Wade was more nervous than what he felt before.

Why did he feel so anxious for you?

Instead of fighting the summersaults in his stomach, he passes his beloved dog to Logan. Wade's feet took him outside the window to see you, lost in thought.

"Hey, Chica." Wade said.

You whipped your head to Wade and gave him a small smile.

"Hey stranger." You said.

Wade took a seat next to you as you two looked down at the road where public safety was still cleaning the neighborhood as it was filled with shattered glass, exposed electric wires, and blood.

"You did quite a number down there." You commented, sharing a worried gaze to him.

"Yeah, you should see the other variants of me. One is a floating head."

You couldn't help but laugh, imagining a decapitated head of Wade just flying aimlessly.

"I still can't believe you met so many versions of you. Must have been weird."

"Tell me about it. One was me when i didn't look like a naked mole-cat."

"I think that's called a Sphynx cat." You reply.

"Tomayto, tomahto" Wade brushed you off, earning a light punch on his arm from you.

"But yeah, it was a bit overwhelming to say the least." He said, looking down at his shoes.

You turn your back to the rail of the fire escape and looked up at the evening sky.

"Did you meet any other versions of us in that dimension of hell?"

"It wasn't a hell persay, more of a dumpster fire truck-"

"Wade, you're ignoring the answer."

Wade gulps silently and looks up at the sky, wishing he was anywhere but here.

"You might say I saw someone."

Your eyes perked, smirking.

"Who was it?"

Wade looks back at your excitement, feeling his gut churn with despair.

"Wade, who did you see?"

"I uh... saw you."

Your eyes widen, surprised at the thought there could be another varient of you. But as you saw Wade's deamenor, it was like he was sitting next to a ghost.

"What happened to you, Wade?" you ask.

Wade looks forward, feeling his jaw hinge.

"It all started when mini wolverine brought us to her base."

+

Wade and Logan arrived at the rebel base where Elektra, Blade, Gambit, and Laura stayed to protect themselves from Cassandra. Wade was encouraging them to stand up against her so he could save his world. Wolverine scoffed at his attempt and left to his own demise while Wade was concluding his fight speech.

"C'mon gang! We're fighting for a noble cause here. We can stop Cassandra or die trying."

"No one is dying on my watch."

Wade turns his head and sees a shadow by the entrance, squinting as he couldn't see them.

"Excuse me Debbie Doubter, but I'm talking to these legendary fighters. So if you don't wanna join us, I suggest sitting with Mr. Logan out there, he's a real Pinky Pie."

The figure jumps out of the shadows, silencing the man in red as he sees a familiar face - you.

Wade whispers your name under his breath, stunned.

Your eyes widen subtly until you locked your jaw.

"I go by Cosmic, and you have no business asking for us to fight your battles."

Cosmic's hair looked different than how you normally styled it. Your cheerful persona was replaced by tired eyes and more defined tones around the body, making Cosmic look like a fierce warrior outside of a comic book.

"Do you know how many victims Cassandra and her crew has taken away from us? Too many to count. And I am definitely not letting another Deadpool ruin our survival. All of you are the same, pathetic wannabe heroes. So leave now, or I'll make you." You warned him as you left outside.

"I like to see you try." Wade talked back. In sync, Elektra, Blade, and Gambit took a step back. Wade looked around suspiciously until a sudden glow blasted him off his feet and Cosmic suddenly pins him down as he came face to face with her.

"I don't answer to you, so get out of my sight or I won't hold back." Cosmic spat in his face as she got back up and left Wade on the ground.

For once, Wade was silent as she made her way outside. The girl next door Wade once knew wasn't you, but the hurtful things that she said hit his core.

"She gets like that when she sees a Deadpool" Blade said out loud, breaking Wade from his momentarily spell.

"Any idea why?" Wade asks.

"No. When there's a sighting of one of you, she takes every measure to ban them from our base. Whatever you did to her, she hasn't forgotten." Elektra says.

"Or forgiven." Gambit concludes.

"Out of your minion talk, I could finally hear what your saying." Wade said in annoyance as he brushed himself off and stood up.

"If you want us to follow you to Cassandra and her goons, you have to get Cosmic's blessing. She's as powerful as Cassandra, but she hasn't found her will to fight." Laura said as she was leaning by the wall, looking at the dramatic scene unfold.

Wade just nodded as he slowly walked out to find her, or the version of you. It didn't take long until he saw Cosmic high on a rock as she was looking up at the dark sky. Wade climbed up quietly as he didn't wanna frighten her.

"For the record, I'm not going to blast you off this rock. That blast you took from me is taking its toll." She said, not batting an eye at his direction.

Wade stood still until he walked by her and sat by her left, taking his mask off.

"Whatever the other version of me did to you, I'm not that guy. Hell, I don't even know if he looks as ruggedly as handsome as myself." Wade quips.

Cosmic looks curiously at him and give a tiny smirk.

"You look just the same as him."

"So you admit I'm ruggedly handsome?"

She darts her eyes at him until he lifted his arms in defense. Silence filled the air as the only sound that was heard was the fire cracking from a distance where Wolverine was drinking his sorrows.

"What did I do that made you hate me?" He asks.

She looks down at her lap, trying to form the words that she haven't spoken in so long.

"You left me to die."

Wade knits his brow in confusion as she raised her knees close to her chest, remembering.

"The x-men got bad intel about this rescue mission. Mutants were being held in different locations so everyone was scattered around the world. But what we didn't know was that it was a trap. Each building blew up, one by one. I could hear the cries of the other x-men as our comms went silent. The base we were at was by a cliff so it blew us outward and two of us were hanging by a thread."

"Two of you?" Wade asks.

"It was me and Vanessa." She said. Wade was silent, even when he saw her tears forming.

"We were far apart so you couldn't save both of us at the same time. Neither of us could fly or survive a fall that far. And you chose her. When you got to me, I was already falling and I could hear myself calling out to you. I thought I died but apparently I found myself here, where every reject comes to whither away. And I trained, day and night to multiply my power force, so I wouldn't have to be saved by anyone."

Cosmic's arm glows like those galaxy wallpaper Wade had in his phone, but her power dimmed suddenly as she stifled a groan.

Wade could only imagine the pain she felt every time she pushed her limit.

"The worse thing was, I loved you. I loved you so much and I think you knew. But I don't think you could ever love me back. That's why every time I see one of your faces, I'm just reminded that I was never good enough for you."

She turns around to Wade who looked almost ashamed, as if he was the one who hurt her. Cosmic sniffed as she whipped her head away.

"You can take who ever you want to face Cassandra. I'm done fighting everyone. It's your funeral."

Wade almost didn't want to leave Cosmic, but time was of the essence. His family needed him, but this version of you needed him.

But Wade had everything but time, cause in less then a day, everything he ever love will cease to exist. So, he reaches out a little polaroid and gives it to her.

"Every decision that I'm making right now, it's to get home to you." He says, pointing to you as you were developed in Wade's arms as you looked lovingly at him. He almost didn't realize how you looked at him lately.

Since his break up with Vanessa, he felt like his life was spiraling. The Avengers didn't want him, the X-men could never accept his crazy self, and he did not want another version of the X-Force to sacrifice themselves like last time.

But the person that gave him the most comfort was you.

He remembered on his really bad days, you would invite him to your apartment to eat instant ramen while watching desperate housewives. Or when he was off from work, he'd join you to the local food market as you two secretly make fun of the rich snobs that only buy from organic sources and yet ride a Cadillac.

He then suddenly remembers the day before his birthday when he asked you if he should go after Vanessa again. You smiled at him and told him to go for it. He was blinded to see your forced smile and blank eyes. Cosmic's version of himself broke her heart, and now he was repeating history again.

That's when Wade swore he'd do everything he can to save his entire world, and he didn't mean his planet.

From then on, it was a long and gored battle once him and the other forgotten heroes were battling Cassandra's army. Blood was being spilled in every direction yet other mutants were flooding the gates.

But soon, Cassandra's short term heart to heart moment allowed Wade and Logan to leave the Void. But low and behold, Allioth wasn't going to allow them to leave so easily as he corners them around the portal

"We're not going to make it!" Wade yelled as they tried to make a run for it.

"I don't think you're girlfriend would let that happen." Logan said as he was staring up at the sky

Wade didn't understand until he looked up and saw a sky filled with glowing constellations that shielded them from the purple grimace.

Cosmic, looking powerful as ever, was flying in mid air as she glowed like some sort of angel.

"What are you doing?" Wade yells at her.

She turns around, feeling her powers draining her life force.

"Saving your ass, now go!" She turned to Allioth as it tried to break her cosmic barrier.

"You're not dying because of me!" Wade tries to step forward, but Logan stops him in his tracks

She reaches out for that polaroid picture in her jacket, throwing it in the wind for Wade to grab it. A tear rolls down her face and she looks back at the man's face she once loved.

"Promise me you'll tell her how you really feel."

Wade gives her a firm nod before Cosmic suddenly burns violently, creating a blinding light that pushed Allioth away as Wade and Logan jumped into the portal.

Cosmic felt her powers slipping and felt herself falling, feeling death creeping her.

But yet, she felt her lips stretching into a smile, knowing that some version of you finally gets a happy ending.

+

You then resumed silent as Wade finished his story. He was looking at you almost doe-eyed, afraid of what you might say.

"She saved you, even when she hated your guts, she still put herself above everything she stood by." You said, looking down at the street.

"She was a hero, but I wished I could have told her that. I wished I could have told her a lot of things.”

“Like what?” You ask.

Wade took a deep breath and looks at you, feeling his heart pound each second.

“I wish I got to tell her that I never meant to hurt her. That she's always been the constant brightness in my life in my shitty life. Humble brag, I got to save the world...”

You couldn't help but muster a chuckle as you felt your eyes watery. Wade reaches out as he places your hand on top of yours.

"But I did it all for you."

You launch your arms around him, feeling all your emotions catch up to you. You could feel Wade felt the same too as he held you tight.

"Promise you won't do anything stupid from now on."

"Do you even know me?"

You two laugh as you look at each other in a different light this time, as this was the moment where Wade's universe was right here in his arms.

You kissed his temple as you two held to each other as you watched your neighborhood gotten repaired while a certain X-men was beaming proudly at the two of you.

[deadnatura11]

I'm a sucker for an amnesia storyline and I think Buddie would EAT however I've only ever thought of pre-getting together amnesia... but now that Buddie seems imminent... I'm thinking of post-getting together amnesia incidents.

And -

The correct answer, to me, about when to give one of them amnesia (and who) is riiiight before the Buddie proposal.

Stay with me! Stay with me!

Eddie is going to propose to Buck, however - before he can - he winds up in an accident that gives him either full or partial amnesia. He doesn't have to lose all his memories, but he HAS to not have any memory of his time in LA (i.e. meeting, befriending, falling in love with Buck).

And Buck is disheartened, but of course he does his best to try and get Eddie’s memories back (because of course he reads up on amnesia and how to fix it). Except it's... not working. Then Buck gets in his head thinking that this is a chance for Eddie to actually explore being gay because "what if I'm his first but not his last" and Eddie, of course, realized he was gay and immediately got with Buck and didn't have that chance to 'explore' and might be settling for Buck because he's there and it's easy (all his fears bubbling up without the safety net of Eddie denying them). So he's pulling back to give Eddie "his chance", what he thinks Eddie "needs". Eddie feels sad about Buck ghosting him but he has no bandwidth to understand why.

Then. Then. THEN.

Eddie is rooting around in his drawer or his closet and he finds the ring, and seeing the ring REMINDS him of what he was planning on doing before the accident, causing all the dominoes to fall over as Eddie remembers what he forgot.

So when Buck swings by to collect his things, he is surprised to find the house decorated.

"With your favorite flowers. Your favorite meal waiting with some of your favorite wine, while your favorite music plays out of the speakers."

"You... remember all that?"

"You're not easy to forget. Not that I wanted to in the first place."

It's a normal date, at first until Buck broaches the subject of why Eddie remembered now despite all other attempts having failed.

"I wanted to wait until after dinner, but..."

Eddie drops onto one knee, proposing to Buck. We don't know what Buck says, until...

The entire fire fam is invited over to Eddie’s to celebrate him getting his memory back, Buck surprisingly absent while Eddie and Chris greets the guests.

When Buck does arrive with a platter of food and drinks he hands out Maddie is the first to spot the ring on his finger. "Is that what I think it is?" "What do you think it is?"

She shrieks. They hug.

Chimney, "What? Whats happening?"

"We're getting married!"

Celebration 🍾 episode ends.

[merp-blerp]

Gaylor/Kaylor and Oz: Parallels and Theories Vol. 2 🌼🌈❇️

CW: Spoilers for L. Frank Baum's Oz book series (books 1-15). And this post is very late-stage-Kaylor-specific, so if that's not up your alley, that's chill.

Vol. 1 Here (I recommend reading Vol. 1 before this one)

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

AH! I'm so ecstatic that I get to make another one of these so quickly! I was so proud of Vol. 1 and I'm so happy there's new material to explore! Thank you very much for the reception to Vol. 1, I'm so glad people liked it. It's cool to see other people who probably didn't even see my post seemingly make the Return To Oz connections as well. It makes me feel "smart". 😅

Part 1: The Tin Woodman ❤️🌈

Let's start out with something small and old news. A theory that's new to me is the Tin Woodman's role in gaylor theories (He's very specifically called "Tin Woodman" in the books, not Tinman, so I'll call him by his book name so as to not blur the line of exactly which version of the character I'm talking about). This collage by iateallthecat2 on Twitter (from this post) brought it to my attention:

I'm not sure if there's already some in-depth theory that goes beyond this collage out there, so I'm gonna wing it from here based on my own Oz knowledge.

In the "ME!" MV, Brendon Urie's character is a suitor that Taylor rejects. They fight when inside a house and she rejects his proposal, but when he gifts her something with no general romantic meaning, a cat, they spend the rest of the MV having a good, platonically-coded time. Brendon plays someone who wants to play the role of Taylor's partner, but they seemingly work better as buds in their rainbow haven.

I have wondered if Brendon is supposed to be playing a beard who Taylor tries to take to freedom with her in this MV, but I'm admittedly slightly apprehensive about the idea. It would be kinda cool if one or more of Tay's beards also came out with her whenever she does. This plotline seems very similar to the suspected "she ghosted but kept the castle" narrative. In both Taylor rejects a proposal, except here Taylor and her beard seem more connected. It makes me wonder, if everything had gone to plan, would the narrative in 2019 have been that presumably Joe would've proposed and Taylor would have rejected it but they would've been on friendly terms. Or maybe all of that would've happened to Karlie and Josh in a way since they were married in 2018. Or maybe it would've happened to both of them. Then they would've been able to build a narrative for Kaylor as a couple that didn't involve saying "We hid this from you for this long". But that's spitballing.

Either way, Brendon is definitely someone who helps Taylor along her "story" as he infamously put himself:

Everyone knows that the Tin Woodman helps Dorothy on her journey, but he also helps out Ozma/Tip on hers in the second book and so on.

In the first book, the Tin Woodman's backstory is that he was once a human named Nick Chopper, who was engaged to a Munchkin girl named Nimmie Amee. While Nick seems to respect and love her, he also seems to only be engaged to her because he doesn't want to be lonely after the death of his parents, at least to me. But the Wicked Witch of the East curses Nick to chop off his limbs whenever he tries to chop wood. He gets these limbs replaced with tin parts until he is fully tin. But his body no longer needed a heart and therefore he felt no romantic love for Nimmie Amee, so their relationship fizzled out.

Whether he ever romanticly loved her in the first place is debatable in my opinion. I personally don't think he did, especially since long after he's gotten the realization that he had a heart, Nick never really tries to romanticly pursue Nimmie Amee again, but he does tie loose ends with her in The Tin Woodman of Oz. However, my point is that Nick seems to only want Nimmie when he thinks she can fill a void. Once he thought he was too broken for her to fix he subconsciously realized he didn't actually love her, but interpreted it as though he just "stopped" loving her.

To put it simply, I see Nick as practically going through comphet before finding true fulfillment in the things that come after he's un-rusted. My personal interpretation of Nick is that he is a gay man, unbeknownst to him, who tries to find love in a woman, but it inevitably doesn't work. He loved Nimmie because he hoped she could fix his pain. There's no way to prove Baum meant Nick to be seen this way, but queer interpretations of Nick are common in modern Oz fan circles. Somewhat like Taylor and Brendon in "ME!", Nick and Nimmie try to play the roles of a couple, but being a couple just isn't in the cards for them, so they keep things platonic.

In comparison, Nick loves the Scarecrow for the actual companionship he gives. The Tin Woodman states that he no longer needs Nimmie's love, as he has the Scarecrow's. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are pretty similar to Dorothy and Ozma in terms of being queer-coded in their relationship. They live close to one another because they're sadder apart, cordially debate philosophy, rule Winkie Country together, and are often depicted comfortably in each other's physical space, among other wholesome details.

The physical representation of the Tin Woodman's heart is made of a velvet pouch and sawdust in the books, but in the '39 film Tinman's heart is a ticking clock with daisies stringed to it. Of course, daisies have a great significance to Kaylor because of the Big Sur trip. And clocks have been having a significance in Taylor's art since "The Man" and the Karma wall.

I don't necessarily think Karlie, Taylor, or Brendon are represented through the Tin Woodman, Nimmie, and the Scarecrow in Taylor's art in a literal sense. I see it as just another queer piece of the puzzle. Brendon might not literally be the Tin Woodman in Taylor's art the same way Karlie is Dorothy, but I think he at least played him during the Lover era. Brendon/Tin Woodsman helps Taylor/Ozma through her journey to where she belongs like a queer friend helping another queer friend.

Also, I'll leave this section off on this reach cutesy note:

Part 2: Ozma and the Wizard 🌺🪄

Back in Vol. 1, I suggested a theory that if Karlie Kloss was represented as Dorothy Gale in Taylor's music, then Taylor was more subtly represented as Queen/Princess Ozma. I've been seeing another theory around about Taylor being the Wizard, aka Oscar Diggs. I also really like this theory and I think it can make sense for both theories to exist simultaneously.

The Wizard is an illusionist. In the first novel, when appearing to each of Dorothy's friends individually he appears as something different to all of them. To Dorothy, he is a giant floating head, to the scarecrow he is a fairy, to the tinwoodsman he is a beast, and to the cowardly lion he is a ball of fire. He is able to change himself into anything he pleases, but he has no real magic. In order to rule over Oz unrightfully, Oscar Diggs stole Ozma away as a baby and gave her to a witch named Mombi, who transformed Ozma into a boy named Tip, disguising Ozma from everyone and herself; in the second book, Ozma is transformed back to her true form and takes her place as ruler of Oz, eventually ruling with Dorothy by her side. To make a long story short, Ozma and Dorothy eventually forgive Oscar for his crimes.

I see Oscar/the Wizard as representing Performance Taylor, while the real Taylor is Ozma. The Wizard is from Kansas in the '39 film and performance Taylor is currently associated with the Kansas City Chiefs. Performance Taylor, just like Oscar, is able to change himself when needed and isn't the unstoppable being his citizens once believed in despite never meeting him. Just like Oscar, Performance Taylor is an illusionist who appeases the citizens with theatrics to hide the truth for the time being. Performance Taylor/Oscar hides the real Taylor/Ozma away. Real Taylor/Ozma, when seen, is forced into the shape of a boy, Tip/James, Peter, the Man, etc. But soon Ozma reclaims her land and keeps the castle Oscar took, and so might the real Taylor.

If you believe Post Malone is playing a side of Taylor in the "Fortnight" MV, Taylor seems to be depicting herself as coming together with both the public and private parts of herself. Previously in MVs for songs like "...Ready For It", Taylor was always at odds with her clone, but in "Fortnight" they team up to get out of the asylum. Ozma and Dorothy make amends with Oscar and Taylor makes amends with herself.

Part 3: The Yellow Brick Road and The Emerald City 🟨❇️

I think a lot of us know about Taylor's Instagram grid currently aligning with yellow outfits from Eras at the moment:

Typically when Taylor's Instagram grid aligns like this it means something. The most common theory as to what this might mean is that Taylor is creating a yellow brick road. Yellow is often seen as the closeting color in gaylor circles for various reasons, such as the Evermore closet in The Lover House being filled with yellow clothes. Some fun estimates I've seen are that soon the alignment will be broken by some type of photo of Taylor in a green outfit post-Eras, like maybe a green outfit from tour in her Toronto thank you post or even her birthday post. The big hope right now is that this hypothetical post in a green outfit will signify Taylor's coming out being near, having reached her destination to the Emerald City, or that this green outfit post could even be a coming out post. My Oz-ian brain loves this idea! The yellow road to being free in the green, the color right after yellow in the rainbow.

In the first Oz book, the Emerald City is a huge hoax. It's not Emerald at all, but white. In order to trick the citizens of Oz into thinking that the city is emerald, the Wizard forces everyone to wear green-lensed spectacles that lock on; they are what make the city look green, the Wizard lying that they wear them because the brightness of the city would blind them if they didn't. Dorothy is given a "green" dress when she arrives in the Emerald City, but when she leaves it reveals itself as actually being white. After the first book, the Emerald City becomes truly emerald; from what I can remember there is no exact canonical reason as to why this is, so I theorize that the citizens just made it emerald after the wizard floats away in his balloon. The Emerald City truly being white represents the fakeness within the rule of the Wizard, but by the time Oz has its rightful ruler, Ozma, the city is truly Emerald. For TTPD and most if not all of Tay's discography, the colorless world represents the abusive music industry and closeting, but color represents Taylor's freedom, reclaiming the land. Also, the fictional Emerald City was inspired by the real-life White City Amusement Park that was once in Chicago, so there's that connection to white too. Green and White together remind me of Taylor's green band jacket in the "ME!" MV and her white band jacket in the "TSMWEL" performance from Eras. Symbolism-wise, Taylor thought she was close to reaching her destination when creating Lover, but the smallest man ruined it all and the emeralds were fake. Now she's about to go down the yellow road once more to get back to her emerald kingdom.

To expand on the colors of Oz a bit more, let's look at the house from "ME!"

Here's an official Oz map in case anyone finds it helpful:

This house in "ME!" is the starting point in the MV and the first room that we see is blue. Blue is the color of Munchkin Country in the Oz books, as every Oz region has a color. Munchkin Country is the first land of Oz we ever see and the starting point of "ME!" is blue just like it.

Then Taylor walks through a hall with blue walls and blue and yellow tiles on the floor. On her first trip to the Emerald City, Dorothy exclusively walks through Munchkin Country to the Emerald City, so the tile being blue and yellow signifies that this is only the first journey to the Emerald City.

The next room is a large green one. The Emerald City, right?

But when Taylor makes it out the front door, the house is white with some purple. Not the true Emerald City. Purple is for Gillikin Country. When Ozma is kidnapped by the Wizard of Oz and given to Mombi she lives in Gillikin Country as Tip. The Emerald City is (partly) white, Taylor's in her closet yellow, Ozma/true Taylor is dressed as a guy, and Ozma/true Taylor is yet to rule.

But finally, later in the video when Brendon and Taylor are on platonic terms, they run up to a massive green building with a rainbow beaming in front of it as they wear green clothes. I think this was intended to be the true Emerald City. The pink soldiers around it even look like the poppy field. I think it's notable that in the MV Brendon and Taylor run up to the Emerald City, but we never see them enter. I take that as acknowledging that Taylor wasn't there yet. "ME!" was not a coming-out video, it was a sprint toward that goal. So she wasn't inside the Emerald City quite yet, she was on the way, ever so close. However, as stated before, the smallest man ruined things, so this was retconned through Eras. However, if Taylor got to come out during Lover this would've been the final stop.

I was thinking that it would also be crazy if instead of a photo in a green outfit, we got one in red. In relation to Oz, red is Quadling Country. In the first book, it's the last place Dorothy journeys to before making it home. It's also where she meets Glinda for the first time (Glinda is the Witch of the South in the books and a different witch is the Witch of the North). Glinda is the only one who knows the real way to get Dorothy home, her silver shoes. So red would also be an interesting choice in this scenario, but green is definitely the more culturally recognizable choice.

I want to acknowledge the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" connection I've seen around, even though I don't think I have much to add to it. The idea is that Elton John's song "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" has thematic parallels to gaylor. This idea that Taylor could leave behind a toxicly ritzy world for something better. Elton is an openly gay man in Hollywood who had to deal with a lot of silly Hollywood games regarding his sexuality. The way "GBYBR" is used in his film Rocketman definitely depicts Elton deciding to fix his issues brought on by the industry's abuse. Could this be what Taylor's about to do herself in her own way? Leave behind the yellow cedar closet for a life that's true to her? Taylor wore this outfit that already had plenty of Kaylor tie-ins like the twinning Carolina Herrera fit and the panther necklace, but her shoes match the ones Elton wears in the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album cover as he steps in or out of the Ozian picture.

As an extra fun tidbit, let's work some Oz history into this! It is a commonly told story that L. Frank Baum's inspiration for the yellow brick road comes from a real road in Peekskill, New York. The myth is that Baum asked for directions to the military academy and was told to "Follow the yellow brick road." Even though this exact story is likely just a myth, it's certainly not unlikely that Baum saw those yellow bricks. While Peekskill is not New York City, of course, New York City has a big significance in Taylor's music. In "WTNY" she views it as a place where anyone can be free. New York City could be its own character in her music. If New York City is freedom it could be seen as an equivalent to Ozma's Emerald City. Peekskill isn't where the city is, it holds the road to it and freedom.

Conclusion 🌼

Again, it's so cool to have more to add on to this Oz theory. I admit that it feels a bit vindicating that I made Vol. 1 and in due time we got more Oz crumbs. Wow, can't believe Taylor saw my post. In all seriousness, this has been so much fun. I know there's the possibility of yet another part to this. If you feel like I've forgotten anything, let me know! Can't wait to know what's on the horizon!

[jayparked]

heyyy snail, congratulations on 1k you deserve it bub! i’d like to request 26+32 for Jungwon (keep up the wonderful work ilyyyy 🎀)

it's no secret that the parties your friends host can get a little bit...wild. not in the sense of destruction, cop cars, and illegal activity. no, instead it's a whirlwind of intense party games, everyone always giving it their all.

and tonight is no different.

everyone is decently drunk but sober enough to not be slurry messes. it's amazing the party fouls remains in the single digits so far. but the night is still young.

the party game of the night is having everyone sit in a circle, drinks readily available to chug if you answer yes to any question that is directed at you. if you choose to answer the question instead, the person who originally asked you has to chug not only their own drink, but yours as well. there's no official name for it but you've been jokingly calling the game 'wheel of misfortune'.

"okay...y/n...your turn," smirks your best friend who's sitting opposite of you in the group circle, "when you're getting yourself off do you picture anyone in this group when you do so?"

she's evil. absolutely evil. of course she knows the answer to that question and it takes everything in you to remain calm and sneak in a deep breath. you try to communicate to her with your eyes, widening them slightly, but she just smirks and glances to her left at a certain boy you've been desperately trying to not think about.

you look down at the concoction sitting in your cup. after chugging this you'll be absolutely tipsy, dangering the drunken state zone. you bring the cup up to your lips but stop at the array of boo's from all your friends.

"all you ever do is drink, y/n."

"yeah, why not answer one for once?"

you allow yourself a glance at the boy with curly brown hair, those brown eyes sparkling at you as he chuckles, deep dimples presenting themselves to you. his cheeks are flushed pink from the alcohol and he shakes his head with a smile, hair falling into his eyes as he tries to fix them effortlessly to no avail.

"jungwon," you say as casually as you can fake, sipping on your drink anyways.

"hmm?" the boy replies, glancing over at you. when your only response is a coy eyebrow raise, his smile fades and his eyes darken. jungwon bites his bottom lip, eyebrows raising up at you again as he tilts his head slightly.

"oh shit!" someone cheers.

"i can't believe she actually said it!"

you and jungwon are lost in an unbreakable staring contest; you're desperately trying to figure out what he's thinking but you can't read him at all.

you catch your best friend chugging her drink quickly before crawling over to you and snagging your cup out of your hands, quickly downing it with a proud sparkle in her eyes.

"i think we should have jungwon and y/n have a lil seven minutes in heaven fun. what do you guys think?" the response is a loud array of hooting and hollering, everyone gather to push you and jungwon towards the other room.

it isn't until the door closes and you turn to face jungwon, nearly chest to chest that it finally hits you what you've said.

"jungwon i- i'm so sorry i don't know why i-"

“so…you touch yourself to the thought of me? i’d like to see that.”  

he closes the gap between you two, backing your body against the door and placing his knee between your legs, his gaze never breaking from your own.

"or you can show me some other time and we can just have a little fun in the meantime." his voice has dropped to a register you haven't heard from him before. your legs feel wobbly and you can't for the life of you look away from his plump lips.

you nod your head frantically, eyes half shut while you raise a cautious hand up to his shoulder.

"do you want me to kiss you?" jungwon chuckles, moving his face close enough that you feel his lips ghosting over your own.

you nod your head again, afraid that if you open your mouth words will be replaced by obscene whines.

“I wanna hear you beg for it" his lips brush against yours in a light, feathery way as he speaks and you feel dizzy.

"please," you gasp, "please kiss me-."

that was all jungwon needed, pressing his lips against yours before you can even finish your sentence.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[thewardenisonthecase]

Moments in Between - Chapter 3

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Summary: Rook has a nightmare and Lucanis has a funeral to arrange.

A/N: I didn't like this chapter that much but it needed to get done. I'm still figuring out where this story is going. Also MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DATV AT THE END (its about one of the big reveals in the third act)!!!

Another night, another nightmare.

She was amongst them, one more darkspawn in the middle of the hoard. Her thoughts were not her own, as she heard the sweet calling of the archdemon, beckoning them to keep digging. 

Just keep digging. Digging. Find it. Find the source of the song. 

Come to me. 

The sound of metal against stone echoed in her head, each time louder and louder until the earth exploded, as a pair of giant wings emerged and the intense roaring of the Archdemon shook everything around her. 

Rook woke up in a cold sweat, her heart hammering in her chest, her mouth dry. Standing on shaky legs, she didn’t know what to do. 

Ever since her Joining, she too had struggled with nightmares, but none that ever felt this…real. And none that featured an archdemon. 

She could feel her feet taking her somewhere, her body moved even if her mind didn’t command it to. She stopped, not knowing where she was until a voice spoke her name. 

“Rook, are you alright? You look pale.” She heard someone speak, her mind still trying to catch on. The voice was familiar, but the sound of her own ragged breath muffled the next sentences. 

Next thing she knew, calloused hands with a gentle touch led her to a chair, helping her sit down. A water cup was put in her hands. Slowly, and with help, she brought it to her lips and drank almost everything. 

Rook closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she opened them, she was met with a certain crow crouching in front of her, his eyes filled with concern. 

“Lucanis.” She whispered, as her mind cleared, looking around the room. “Hi.” She saw his face relax a bit after she spoke. 

“What happened?” He asked, softly. He covered her hands, the ones holding the water, with his own. “You’re shaking and you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She gave him a small chuckle that sounded more like a gasp. “I…I had a nightmare. A very, very, bad one.”

Lucanis nodded and stood up. He thought for a moment and then said “If you want, I can make you something to eat.” 

“I…thank you.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying “Can you make that chocolate drink? The one from the café.” 

He gave her a small smile. “Of course.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him get to work, as she slowly gathered her thoughts. She had never dreamt with an archdemon before, but she remembered the warden commander telling her about it. 

“It’s intense, terrifying.” She remembered hearing the commander talk. “The nightmares are bad on their own, but during a Blight they’re worse. And when you see the archdemon…I was lucky to have Alistair with me.” 

She didn’t know how much time had passed but the smell of hot chocolate filled her nostrils, as her empty water cup was replaced. 

“Thank you, Lucanis.” He nodded and began to walk away, into the pantry. “Can I…ask you for a favor?” She said, unsure. 

“What is it?”

“Could you keep me company? Just for a while.” 

He stood there, thinking and for a moment, she thought she had overstepped, until he grabbed his cup of coffee and sat on the chair opposite to hers. The two drank in silence, until Rook asked “Do you also have bad dreams?” 

“Sometimes, although lack of sleep prevents them. Do you have them often?” 

“All the time. It comes with being a warden.” 

His head tilted to the side. “I don’t understand.” 

She sighed. “I guess most people don’t.” Rook leaned back on her chair, as she thought of a way to explain it. “Because of our connection to the blight, we often have dreams with them - the darkspawn, the taint. And if you’re unlucky enough, you’ll dream with the archdemon.” 

“And I’m guessing that was the cause of your nightmare.”

Rook nodded. “I had never dreamed of one before. They’re not really supposed to happen unless a Blight is going on, and even then, I’d thought we’d have more time before…”

“Before, what?” 

“Before an archdemon was uncovered.” She took another drink before asking “Do you know how they came to be?” When Lucanis shook his head, she explained “The darkspawn, they’re always digging, looking for the Old Gods trapped beneath the earth. They call them constantly until they get them out. The Old God is then corrupted by the taint and becomes the Archdemon. It’s how we know it's a true blight, if an archdemon is spotted, and usually, our dreams are the first indications we have.” 

“So what you’re saying is that our situation is worse than what it was?” 

“Exactly.” Rook rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know if there’s any connection between the Old Gods and the Evanuris but if they are controlling the blight and got a hold of one of these archdemons…I don’t even want to think of the chaos that would be.” 

“It is something to consider. Have you contacted the rest of your order yet?” 

“We, uhm…aren’t on the best of terms right now. But maybe Harding and I can come up with something.” She finished her drink by putting it on the table. “Thank you, Lucanis.” 

“Of course.” He smirked. “But you’ll be owing me a favor.” 

“I told you we would all be owing each other.”

She smiled one last time and made the lonely journey back to her room. There was another problem hanging in the back of her mind. 

If there truly was an archdemon and if this was truly a blight…then her end was nearer than she’d expected. 

. 

It did not take long for Lucanis to reclaim that favor, as the very next day, a letter from Teia arrived.

The walk to the Cantori Diamond had been silent, but Lucanis was glad. Since Teia had told him about the funeral, he hadn’t been in the most talkative mood.  

Still, he had asked Rook to come along, in case Spite got out of hand. 

But also…he needed someone that wasn’t so involved, so familiar to be there. 

Once they arrived at the casino, Teia and Viago greeted them. 

“Good, you’re here.” The Seventh Talon said. 

“Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia.” 

“For Caterina…how could I do otherwise. I’m so sorry, Lucanis, this must be such a blow.” She turned to Rook. “Thank you for coming with him. I need one Dellamorte to plan this. His cousin has been no help at all.”

“I’m sorry, Teia.” Illario said mournfully. “This is just…too much right now.” 

Besides him, Rook took a deep breath and said “If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.” 

That was the other reason why he had asked her to come along. After a year surrounded by Venatori, having someone so…nice around was a breath of fresh air. 

“You’re such a dear.” Teia smiled. “I hope these two are paying attention.” 

Lucanis noticed the familiar, charming tone Teia used when talking to Rook, and he shifted the weight from his feet, slightly uncomfortable at the notion. “Teia, don’t flirt with my…” he stopped himself. 

What were they? Teammates? Friends? 

“Colleague.” Was the word he settled on, hoping the others did not notice his hesitation.

“Jealous? Fine, to business, then.” Teia said. “There’s a lot to plan, but first, I need the ashes.” 

“Ashes?” Illario asked, causing Lucanis to frown. His cousin seemed too surprised, though he couldn’t blame him. With how fast things had been…

“Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. I’ll get them to you right away.” His cousin said. 

In Lucanis’s mind, he had tried to think of every scenario about how this all came to be but there was still too much confusion. Before Illario left, she asked “Illario…what happened?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Caterina. How..? How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the estate? In the city?” He bombarded his cousin with questions. “How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know.” 

He needed to be prepared. They would come for him too - if he did not find them first. 

But it was still strange. How could the First Talon had fallen so easily?

“Cousin, stop. You can’t dwell on this. It’ll drive you mad.” 

“I am not dwelling. Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how, if I’m going to stop her.” 

“I told you. I’m handling it.” 

Illario and his stubbornness. If he continued like this, he’d get himself killed and Lucanis…he would be the only one left. 

He couldn’t stand the thought. 

“Boys! Enough. We have other things to discuss.” Teia intervened. 

“My apologies, Andarateia. Continue without me. I’ll…get you the ashes.” His cousin said and left. 

Lucanis sighed. He was still as confused as before and Illario seemed to refuse to cooperate. He turned his head, seeing a frown on Rook’s face. 

“Something’s wrong with him. I don’t know what.” 

“When he’s not on the job, my cousin always has his head on the clouds.” 

“Still…”

“Illario can be a handful, but this…The only time I’ve seen him like this was when Lucanis died.” Teia looked at him. “You’re worrying, aren’t you? What will people say when they discover that “the Demon of Vyrantium” has a big, soft heart?” 

Lucanis huffed and ignored what she said, opting to focus on Illario. “He’s been careless at times, but never when his own life was on the line. Zara took down the First Talon. Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it.” 

Teia stopped to think and replied “You have a point. It’s not like him to ignore a knife coming in his direction.” 

The three stayed there, in silence. Rook was right - there was something wrong with his cousin, but he couldn’t tell. He sighed, mentally, not sure of what to do. 

Lucanis shook his head. He had come here for a reason, and that reason was not worrying about Illario. “What do you need from me for the funeral?” 

“Come. I’ll get us drinks, and we can make arrangements.” Teia led them further inside the casino. 

They didn’t take long. Mostly, they asked what flowers they should use and where to place them, which people could be invited to the wake, if they should bring a Mother. 

All sorts of things that made Lucanis wonder how it must have been like for his family when they thought he was dead. If they had done all of this. 

The only time I’ve seen him like this was when Lucanis died.

And now he might as well be the reason why his cousin would get himself killed.

Before they left, Lucanis spoke with Teia. “Our house owes you for handling all this.” 

“Caterina was family. Can you imagine what she'd say if she saw us all like this?”  

His face lightened. “She’d be furious. Especially at Illario. As usual.”

Rook, who had stayed mostly quiet until now, spoke “How did you manage to stay on her good side?” 

Lucanis laughed. “What good side?” 

“To hear Caterina tell it, Lucanis can do no wrong.” Teia added.

“It’s easy to look good standing next to my cousin.” 

Rook smirked. “You’re not so bad, give yourself some credit.” 

Lucanis looked away, remembering the previous night. He then saw Teia’s eyes narrow, a small rise in one of her brows, before he cleared his throat. 

Teia straightened her face and said “I’ll have my people keep an eye on him for you.” 

“Thank you, Teia.” 

“Go on. I’ll let you know if something comes up.” 

They said their goodbyes and left. 

They were in the middle of the Crossroads, getting close to the Lighthouse eluvian when Rook stopped and asked “Are you ok?” 

Lucanis blinked, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean…I don’t know what if feels like, but losing your grandma must be hard, right? I just wanted to check in.” 

“If you’re wondering if I can still do my job-”

“It’s not about that.” She shook her head. “I’m asking as a friend. I mean, I hope we are friends, but I just…” She sighed “Varric recently told me that it’s important to check in on your friends, especially when you’re on a mission as big as killing elven gods. So…that’s what I’m doing.” 

Lucanis stood still. He wasn’t used to this sort of caring, much less from someone he knew for such a short period of time, but he could see that Rook was genuine. 

“I-thank you, Rook. I will be fine.” He said, hoping. “And yes…I think we can be friends.” 

“Good.” She nodded and they kept on walking to the Lighthouse. 

But a sudden question formed on the back of Lucanis’s head. 

If Varric was dead, how had Rook talked to him?

[criscura]

Mm.... I'm used to having dreams where I'm the audience and sometimes stuff will talk directly to me, I'm used to having dreams where people walk into my room and then it feels like they're still there when i wake up, I'm used to telling myself something is a dream and i have to just redo the bad thing that happened until it's not bad anymore. Tonight, though, i think it was the first time I realized it was a dream, told myself it was a dream, actively tried to fix it in the dream the way I always have and thought I was doing it, only to realize that I hadn't and I was trapped there.

It was short, and I was just having trouble breathing through my blanket because it fell on my face but... At first I imagined someone snuck into our room, then a hand clamped over my mouth and started pushing my head into the bed until I pulled it off, and then I started taking off a mask that I was mysteriously wearing over and over again because it kept on phasing back onto my face. I knew I was dreaming then, but instead of making myself wake up from the nightmare like I always have, I just sat up in my bed in the dream knowing that something was making it hard for me to breathe in the real world, but I was stuck there for and couldn't see what it was to get rid of it. It was only a few moments, but there was a DEFINITE spike of panic when the full realization of what was going on set in.

Not great. Not ideal >< It was super mundane--my nose got really stuffy out of nowhere and my mouth was totally covered by my blankets, so I WAS having trouble breathing--but I don't remember the last time I was fully conscious in my dreams as myself, IN myself, and incapable of waking up the exact second I wanted to. I've had nightmares and anxiety dreams as far back as I can remember, and it's a skill I taught myself when I was really little..... I don't know why I got stuck this time •____•

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[natelia-aldelliz]

More ghost! Roach - Accidental Necromancer Soap AU : little moments

141 in the middle of a briefing, when suddenly Soap gasps, interrupting Price. Everyone turns to look at him and he looks back like a deer in headlights, apologises with a stammered excuse, something like he saw a spider or something, and the meeting continues with dubious looks.

"You're so bad at that," Roach giggles from where he's floating around above the table. "It wasn't even that big of a news, they were flirting for months! I have way worse, you know one of the Corporals under your command, the redhead one? She's been secretely married for years to the medic lady that stitched you up last week! Stop gaping at me, where's your pokerface oh my god-"

And then Soap uses all that information to win bets against Gaz.

Or also, Roach telling jokes while there's people around Soap. "Don't laugh," he taunts him. "Don't even smile or they'll know you're crazier than they think."

And then he tells the worst joke ever and Soap can't help the snort that escapes him and again, everyone turns to look at him.

"I can't believe you're laughing in a room full of explosives tied to people," Roach gasps, knowing full well that's exactly the result he wanted.

Soap rolls his eyes at him quickly and focuses back on defusing. He'll get him back when they're alone and he doesn't look weird talking to the air.

"He knows you find him hot, he's neither blind nor stupid," Roach says, peeking above Ghost's shoulder. "If you want him to blush you need to call him 'pretty'. Worked every time..."

And he's right. When Soap tells Ghost he's a bonnie lad, explains what it means, it's very obvious how flustered he becomes, and the visible part of the bridge of his nose gets very red.

"Be ready to be grabbed at every opportunity, his love language is physical touch but he'd rather die than admit it."

Roach has a bit of a poltergeist moment when he finds out he can touch things again. Cups go flying into walls, chairs move around, shoes disappear. Roach is very overwhelmed and gets non verbal, which is a bit hard because Soap only knows the basics of BSL and has to ask Ghost to translate by copying live what Roach is saying. (Ghost, who has seen the ghost of his dead lover save his life just a day before objects started flying, recognising in the back of his mind the quirks of Roach's way of signing being reproduced by Soap, but not willing to believe yet)

It lasts a few days and the whole base is convinced they're haunted by a ghost. They're not wrong, Soap wants to say. And not only one, but the others are far more apathetic, barely there.

Then Roach calms down, all at once, when he realises that maybe... maybe he can touch people too. He's very nervous. It's been years since he touched someone, years of his hand going through Ghost's arm as he tried to make him see him. Years of not feeling the warmth of a living being.

That scares him. What if he can touch Soap, but he doesn't feel anything? What if it feels the same as the glasses he's been trying to juggle for days?

So he waits until Soap is asleep and he holds out his finger, slowly, hands trembling, and presses it softly to Soap's forehead. He's... He's warm, he realises with a gasp. He's warm!

Soap wakes up to sobbing and soft fingers on his cheeks and in his hair. He gets reassured very quickly that it's happy sobbing and Roach kisses him.

Ghost, after learning about the ghosts existence, starts having really bad nightmares every night. Has to be reassured that no, he's not actually a ghost. He hasn't actually died in that grave, he's here, he's warm and he's alive and loved.

[silkjade]

i haven’t been here much recently, and i’m sorry i’ve only been negative on the off chance i’ve been online, but let me just say one last piece before the end of this month, so that maybe the next might be better….

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control