#WHY don't we get this dialogue with anyone else. i want it all the time.

[alexanderwales]

The soda jar predated me, so I gave it a wide berth, and didn't bring it up often. It was big and plastic, and had once contained cheese puffs, so more of a barrel than a jar. It said "SODA" in big block letters that had been shaded in. I didn't ask about it. Besides, I had switched over to only drinking water years ago, with a few rare exceptions, and game night wasn't one of them, at least not at first.

Whenever someone wanted a soda, they would grab it from the fridge, and then they would put money into the soda jar. There was a little sign below the big "SODA" on it, and I tried not to look too interested, because it would be weird to go to a friend's house and say "hey, what the hell is this".

But by the fourth night I was feeling like I belonged there, so I read the fine print. It was a list of sodas and how much each of them cost.

"You want a soda?" asked Roger.

"Uh," I said. "No, I have water."

"You want soda, just grab it from the fridge, prices are on the jar," he said.

I had a sense that this was a Social Encounter, and that I was on the verge of failing it, but I had to know, so I asked.

"Why?"

Roger turned to look at me, then he frown at the jar. "Just ... you know. Keep things fair?"

I nodded a bit. "But I mean ..."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"No, it's just," I said. "Like, how much does a soda cost?"

"It's on the jar," said Roger, pointing at the jar.

"Right," I said. "But we're all adults, we all have jobs, the cost is like ... a rounding error, right?"

Roger shrugged. "It's about being fair."

"Right, right," I said. "It's just ... if someone wants a soda, then they go to the minifridge, and then they have to have money on them, and have to look at the price, and then pay that price into the soda jar, which seems like ..." I held up a hand. "I mean, it's how you do things, I guess."

"Right," said Roger with a frown. "I mean, how would you do it?"

"I would just ... have people bring in soda?" I said. "I would go to Costco and get a big thing of it, and then just ... it's like, how much could it possibly be?"

"It adds up," said Roger.

"Right, but it also adds down, doesn't it," I said.

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Roger. He was frowning at me, and it was hard to tell whether this was good-natured curious frowning or if I was annoying him.

"There's like ... a lot of overhead, a lot of cognitive, social, emotional sort of friction, right?" I asked. "Having things for people to drink is casual hospitality, and if you're doing it this way, then you have to update the pricing sheet, and you have to have everyone be thinking about things, and ... I just think in the scheme of things it's just ... I don't mean to offend you by way of criticizing this system."

"People should pay their fair share," said Roger, like he was stuck in a loop, or like he was an NPC repeating his dialogue.

"I am suggesting a communist regime wherein we do not worry too much about that and, because the costs are nominal compared to wages, we do not track or worry about prices," I said. "I mean, I don't want to assume that other people are like ... comfortably wealthy, but if anyone is worried about a few dollars for soda, then yeah, I'll just pay their way and we don't need to talk about it or acknowledge it."

"You're offering to pay for the whole group?" asked Roger.

I considered that. "I'm saying that I would bring in a big cube of it and then someone else could bring in a big cube next time."

"Some kind of rotating schedule?" asked Roger. "Like, a roster of whose turn it is?"

"No," I said. "No, the whole point is ... I mean the point is that we shouldn't need a system, we're adults, soda is, in addition to being super bad for you, very cheap, and we shouldn't care about having any kind of system, we should just have faith that it'll work itself out."

"Okay," said Roger. "But like ... what if it doesn't? I buy soda, people drink all the soda, then no one gets more, so I get more, and people drink it, and then there's no soda again."

"I don't know," I said. "We could talk about it like adults?"

"Or we could just have a sign," said Roger.

And then our break was over, and I hated that I let him get the last word, but I also sort of knew that I wasn't going ever quite be comfortable in that group. Maybe Roger had been burned before, maybe he had been burned a lot, but the soda jar suffused the feeling of the whole group, and I could tell that I was never going to get them out of the soda jar mindset.

[relevant-url-incoming]

Met Tharan post-kotxx on an imp character for the first time and. The fact that they not only acknowledge that we have a Theron and a Tharan, but have Tharan say "he probably spells it the stupid way" - look I have a weird spelling for my name I felt that in my soul. Tharan Cedrax was in a class with five Therons and everyone spelled his name wrong all the goddamn time. I'm claiming him he's mine now

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.

[pendarling]

Confessing & Leading To A Confession Dialogue Prompts

“Look, I know I’m not what your dream partner would’ve looked like, but I think we could work.”

“Fuck, I… I think I’m in love with you.”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what if we… y’know got together?”

“Whenever I see you with someone else I can’t help but feel hurt."

“There isn’t anyone else but me! I’m the one!”

"There's a reason why I kissed you, idiot."

“No, wait, I have something to tell you.”

"I don't know... but I feel a lot of different things when I look at your face."

“How could you be so blind? I’m right here.”

"Don't make me say it out loud."

"My attention is always undivided for you"

"There's something I've been keeping from you."

"You already know what I'm about to say."

"I want to be more than what this is."

"I don't go around telling everyone these things you know."

"It's real this time. Not a fleeting love."

"You're my priority."

"Don't feel ashamed, it's mutual."

"But I don't want them, I want you."

"You need me just as much as I need you."

"Our future-- or-- I mean..."

"Is that door locked properly?" "Yeah." "Okay, I need to get this off my chest now."

"Sorry I've been avoiding you. I knew we couldn't see each other if I couldn't keep myself under control."

"It's not your fault I got all these ideas in my head."

"Maybe I'm crazy, but I started to imagine what I'd do without you and I really couldn't"

"Just promise to return I have something I need to share with you."

"Had I known all this would've happened, I would've told you the truth from the start."

"I was thinking about it and I've decided it's best if I just told you everything."

~~~

MASTERLIST

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Content Warnings: modern AU, smut, vaginal fingering, hand job, vaginal penetration, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: Another entry for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge (drive in setting, dialogue prompt in bold/italics), a verrrrrry late entry for @bigtreefest Essie's Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration (public sex/trying not to get caught) (and shhh, Essie said I could be as late as December, but this is just/only Labor Day Weekend), and week 13 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer (free week).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You didn’t want to watch this scary movie. Scary movies were not your thing.

But you didn’t know that the local drive-in movie place was doing Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays - a double feature night with a different rom-com and slasher fic every week when you said yes to your stupid hot neighbor Bucky Barnes. He’d asked if you liked drive in movies and if you’d go with him, and you hadn’t thought even a second before accepting.

Bumping into him throughout the building since you’d moved in last spring, sure, it was problematic to have a crush on a neighbor, but he was stupid hot.

Which made you do stupid things - like accept a date with him.

You canceled plans that you’d already had in favor of this date.

Typically you weren’t a fan of movies as a first date, but since it was a drive in, not a theater, you’d have your own space and not bother anyone if you actually wanted to talk - but if for some reason stupid hot Bucky Barnes turned out to be a dud, you would also be able to tune into the movie without seeming totally rude.

Privacy? Yes. Good.

A little bit of talking? Also yes.

He’d picked you up in his big pick up truck, which meant at the drive in, he’d backed into the spot, and now you were in the bed of the truck on a camp mattress and blankets.

Things had been lovely for the first flick - which turned out to be one of your favorites. The two of you had chatted sporadically but easily throughout. There’d been a short intermission where the two of you took a walk, stretched your legs, and gotten some ice cream from the concession stand.

All of that had been lovely. Easy time with him.

It had allowed you to trick yourself into the false confidence that you could handle the other half of the double feature.

But the slasher fic had you jumpy, scooting closer and closer into Bucky’s chest, until now you had your face permanently half hidden against his chest.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you chirped. 

“Are you sure? We can leave, I really don’t mind, I’ve see this at least twenty times.”

“No, I’m - I’m fine,” you said quietly. 

He murmured your name against the crown of your head, planting a kiss there. “We don’t have to stay.”

But that little kiss? Being tucked cozily against him? Your whole body was humming with butterflies and warmth despite the cool evening summer breeze flitting over your skin.

“I’m safe here,” you hummed. 

Bucky ticked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You sure about that?”

You giggled - genuinely but with a surge of nerves. “You’ll protect me.”

He smirked. “Only from everyone else.”

“Is that a threat?” You arched a brow and smirked. 

“It’s a promise,” he replied, lowering his voice, ducking closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

You shivered, and he chuckled and pulled you closer. You laughed into his chest, resting your hand lightly on his sternum. “Honestly, if you ever become an actor, don't ever do a slasher flick.”

He scoffed. “What? Why’s that? I’m not such a terrible actor!”

You looked back up at him and shook your head. “I’m not convinced. But also, I’d have to go see it, and clearly I wouldn’t be able to handle that experience.”

“Fine, I promise, I’ll tell the non-existent agent for the acting career I’m never pursuing that slashers are off the table.”

“Good.”

Bucky shifted to make both of you more comfortable. As he shifted, his strong arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer against his broad chest. You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine.

"You know," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear, "I'm really glad you came out with me tonight."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and those piercing blue eyes. "Me too," you whispered.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time - just spend time with you. But now you’re driving me crazy, and I can’t keep my hands off you."

Your breath hitched as his hand slowly slid down your arm, savoring every curve and dip. “Then don’t,” you responded. You slipped your leg up over his thigh, tangling your limbs together.

His touch was gentle yet purposeful, exploring the softness of your skin. You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers ghosted over the swell of your hip, squeezing lightly.

"I love how you feel," he whispered, his voice husky. "So soft, so perfect."

His hand continued its journey, caressing the generous curve of your waist. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, craving more. Bucky's fingers splayed across your stomach, appreciating the plush roundness there.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Bucky's fingers danced up your arm, caressing the soft skin. He traced the curve of your shoulder, then along your collarbone. His touch was feather-light but left a trail of heat in its wake.

You tilted your head back to look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and intense blue eyes. Bucky's gaze roamed over your face, lingering on your full lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky reiterated, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed yours softly at first, tentative and questioning. You responded eagerly, pressing closer and parting your lips slightly.

Bucky took that as invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you flush against him. You melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his firm body against yours.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues exploring as passion built between you. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and muscular back, marveling at the strength you felt there. Bucky's own hands weren't idle, caressing your curves with reverence.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow," you whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wow is right."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. You jumped, startled by the sound from the movie. Bucky chuckled against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," you mumbled, feeling a heat creep up your neck.

"Don't be sorry," Bucky murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I think it's cute how jumpy you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Glad my terror is entertaining for you."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Well, I do enjoy being your protector."

Another scream rang out from the movie, making you flinch. Bucky's arms tightened around you instinctively. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. "I'm usually not this much of a scaredy-cat, I swear."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Sure, sure. I believe you." His tone was teasing, but his arms stayed tight around you.

The score for the movie swelled and pursued a chilling tenor, making you tense. Bucky's hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently pressing your ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the film.

"Better?" he murmured.

You nodded against him, feeling safer wrapped in his strong arms. "Much better."

His fingers combed through your hair soothingly. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment if the movie's too scary."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Bucky's eyes darkened as they roamed over your face. "I can think of a few ways to distract you from the movie."

His hand slid down your back, coming to rest on your hip. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling you against him. Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body pressed against your softer curves.

"Oh?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like what?"

Instead of answering, Bucky dipped his head and captured your lips in a searing kiss. This wasn't like the earlier kiss - soft and exploratory. This was heat and passion and barely restrained desire. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Bucky's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of your lower back. You arched into him, craving more of his touch. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your skin.

You tilted your head, giving him a quizzical look. This man you had categorized as stupid hot because he was so handsome it couldn’t be real seemed to be as gone for you as you were for him.

"I'm driving you crazy?" you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You're the one who's been making me lose my mind for months now."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his blue eyes searching your face. "Really?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Really. I've had a crush on you since the day I moved in. Why do you think I always seemed to be doing laundry at the same time as you?"

A slow grin spread across Bucky's face. "And here I thought I was the one making excuses to run into you."

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Looks like we've both been idiots."

"Well," Bucky murmured, leaning in close again, "then we should make up for lost time, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding. You melted into the kiss, savoring the feel of his strong body against yours. His hands roamed your curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body arching against Bucky's. His hands roamed lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Bucky," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "We're in public."

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Don't worry. No one can see us back here."

To prove his point, he rolled you both so you were lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. The truck's high sides and the darkness of the drive-in lot provided a surprising amount of privacy.

Bucky's lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his abs.

"God, you feel amazing," you breathed.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more.

Bucky's large hand cupped your breast, kneading gently through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped at the sensation, your body heating up despite the cool night air.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the movie made you jump. Bucky chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you.

"Still scared?" he teased, his thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.

You shivered, both from his touch and the reminder of where you were. "Maybe a little," you admitted.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "We can stop if you want," he murmured, his hand stilling on your breast.

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I don't want to stop. I just... I've never done anything like this before. In public, I mean."

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just cuddle and watch the rest of the movie if you want."

You bit your lip, considering. The fear of getting caught was thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. But the way Bucky was looking at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, made you want to throw caution to the wind.

"I want you," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his hand resuming its gentle kneading of your breast. You arched into his touch, your body humming with need. His other hand slid down your side, fingers teasing the waistband of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips.

“Mmhmm, please touch me, Bucky,” you pleaded, craving more.

Bucky's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. His hand slipped inside, cupping you through your underwear. You gasped at the contact, hips bucking up into his touch.

"So responsive," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe. "I love it."

His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clothed center, building the tension coiling in your belly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed.

Bucky's lips trailed down your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply as he made contact with your bare flesh, stroking through your folds.

"God, you're so wet already," he groaned against your collarbone.

You whimpered as he teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

"Bucky, please," you breathed, not even sure what you were begging for.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he slowly pushed one finger inside you.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing you softly. "Gotta be quiet, remember?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short pants as he began to move his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing small circles that had you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped Bucky's broad shoulders as he worked you closer to the edge. The pleasure was building rapidly, your hips rocking against his skilled fingers. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your whimpers and gasps against his skin.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmured encouragingly. "Let go for me. I've got you."

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. Combined with the steady pressure on your clit, it was quickly becoming too much.

"Bucky," you gasped, your body tensing. "I'm -"

"Come for me," he growled softly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

The coil of tension in your belly snapped. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your orgasm hit. Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as you shuddered against him.

As you came down from your high, Bucky slowly withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss, feeling oversensitive and boneless. He pressed soft kisses to your face as you caught your breath.

Then he licked your slickness off his fingers, and your breath hitched as he groaned at the taste of you. Your hand trailed down his chest, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you asked.

Bucky groaned softly, hips bucking into your touch. "You don't have to-"

You cut him off with a kiss, your hand continuing to rub him through his jeans. "I want to," you murmured against his lips. "Please, let me make you feel good too."

Bucky groaned, his hips rocking into your touch. "God, yes," he breathed.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, suddenly feeling clumsy with anticipation. Bucky chuckled softly, reaching down to help you. Together, you managed to unfasten his jeans and push them down his hips.

You slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. Bucky hissed in pleasure, his head dropping to your shoulder. You stroked him slowly, marveling at how hot and thick he felt in your hand.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned softly. "Your hand feels so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, you increased your pace, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Bucky's breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your grip. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, growing even harder if that was possible.

"Wait," Bucky gasped, gently grasping your wrist. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

Your breath caught at his words, desire pooling low in your belly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, Bucky."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as his hands worked to push your jeans down your hips. You lifted your hips to help, shimmying out of the tight denim. Bucky's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs as well.

The cool night air hit your heated skin, making you shiver. Bucky's warm hands ran up your thighs, parting them gently. He settled between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core.

Bucky reached for his wallet. You raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a condom.

"Presumptuous, weren't we?" you teased.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he tore it open. "More like hopeful. You sure about this?" he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching for the condom and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I'm sure. I want you, Bucky." You took his stiff cock in your hands and rolled the condom down slowly over his length.

Then you laid back, and he guided his tip to your entrance. He groaned softly, capturing your lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the stretch, your body accommodating his impressive size.

Bucky stilled once he was fully seated inside you, giving you time to adjust. You both moaned softly at the sensation of being so intimately connected. He peppered kisses along your jaw and neck as you breathed through the initial stretch.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You nodded, running your hands down his muscular back. "Yeah, you can move."

Bucky started with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed. The movie's soundtrack provided some cover, but you still tried to keep quiet.

"God, you feel amazing," Bucky groaned softly, his hips snapping against yours.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built rapidly.

"Bucky," you whined.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach until they settled on your sensitive clit. The gentle pressure of his thumb against you sent sparks of pleasure through your body. "Come for me," he whispered in your ear, urging you on as he continued to stroke and tease your sex. You couldn't resist the sensations, and soon you were gasping and moaning in ecstasy, and he swallowed up as much of your sounds as he could with another kiss.

Bucky's movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. You clenched around him, still riding the waves of your orgasm. The added pressure pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. The sounds of the movie filtered back into your awareness - screams and dramatic music that seemed absurdly out of place now.

Bucky lifted his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "That was..."

"Amazing," you finished for him, grinning.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling very exposed. Bucky noticed your discomfort and quickly helped you redress, then took care of himself.

Once you were both decent again, he pulled you back into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling sated and content.

"So," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, "I think it's safe to say this was a successful first date?"

You grinned and looked up at him. "I'd say so. Though I'm not sure how we're going to top this for date number two."

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something. I've got plenty of ideas."

"Is that so?" you teased, trailing your fingers along his jawline. "Care to share?"

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "How about I show you instead? Say, next Saturday?"

Your heart fluttered at the promise in his eyes. “Just no more slashers, deal?”

“Deal,” he chuckled, then sealed it the best way, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips in a kiss.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

[mcflymemes]

"I'M SORRY, I JUST HAD TO FIND YOU" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for those desperate times when you just have to see them, no matter what anyone else says, adjust as necessary

i couldn't wait another minute apart from you.

did you expect me to just wait around for you to show up?

i did everything i could to find you.

i thought i did a pretty good job covering my tracks.

they helped me track you down.

i needed to see you.

they can't hurt us anymore.

i come all this way to see you, and this is the greeting i get?

i thought you'd be glad to see me.

it took me forever to find you.

how long have you been looking for me?

it's safer for the both of us if we stop seeing each other.

i thought i told you not to find me.

this was for your own good, you know. i leave, and you stay there, unharmed.

can we find somewhere private to talk?

they said if i left, they wouldn't hurt you.

been searching for you for months, believe it or not.

you weren't supposed to expect me.

this was going to be a surprise.

they can't stop me from seeing you.

would you please let me inside?

tell me where you are, or i'll figure it out myself.

i'm not going to let them prevent us from being together.

you and i... we have to be together. no matter what.

you sure don't make it easy to follow you.

i've been tracking you for miles.

so you're real. the legends are true.

you're pretty good at covering your tracks.

i started asking around, and they pointed me in the right direction.

i got your letter and came as fast as i could.

i can reach your window if i climb this tree.

give me a clue. anything. tell me where you're hiding.

think you could come around back and unlock the door for me?

hey. it's me. would you please let me in?

you're the one they speak about, the one that can fix things.

i know i'm not what you expected.

i couldn't wait another minute.

it's starting to rain. why don't you come inside for a minute?

lecture me later. for now, let's appreciate this time we have together.

i know this looks bad, but... i just had to see you.

they think they can stop me from seeing you.

i don't want to leave your side, not for a minute.

the path was treacherous, but the reward was worth every second.

i'd do anything to find you.

i wanted to find you and thank you for what you did for me.

you're taking a big risk by finding me.

you told me to look for you, and so i did.

is there a key to this door?

we're not supposed to be seen together.

i'm going to get you out of there. just hang on.

when i came looking for you, i didn't expect to find you like this.

they told me you had all the answers. they said you could fix things if i tracked you down.

i've been on your trail for weeks now.

it's safer if we're not seen together.

who told you where i was? was it [name]?

i didn't want you to find me like this.

why do you want to hide from me?

we're stronger if we're together.

[drawdotstrings]

the people of penacony are still (yes, still) stuck in a dream.

disclaimer: i am not a theorist. i just want to present some very suspicious things i've found and speculate on some things because i am frankly going insane over this

firstly, did anyone else get deja vu when first starting the new trailblaze mission? march says the exact same things as she did in ena's dream when trying to get the trailblazer to get up. "wake up, wake up," and then "wake up! the sun's frying your butt!"

the trailblazer has the option to say that this sounds familiar in both quests. the similarities stop after this, but another thing i found weird was how the stellaron was only mentioned once by march and then, to my knowledge, never again. no more attention focused on the thing that helped cause all the disaster in penacony?

onto other things - in the new quest checking out, qingque says this:

that's exaclty how the 2.3 quest went as well. everything went smoothly, including the deciding of the future of penacony, which i personally thought was going to be much more difficult. after that, everyone just leaves in a silly unvoiced side quest. and we didn't get to say goodbye to firefly in the end. she didn't actually experience her third death either, did she? i thought her third and final death in the script would've been a bit more dramatic, at least.

after going to firefly's secret base and interacting with the railing, you get this dialogue. this is only available after completing the 2.3 trailblaze mission.

why would the writers want to point out that it's supposedly not an illusion?

on the radiant feldspar, you can listen to these two npcs talking about the astral express acquiring the airship. this npc should be very aware that they're in the dreamscape, being in penacony, right?

the whole thing with ena's dream was also covered up by the family, with the guests having no memories of it, so they aren't talking about still being in ena's dream. what was the reason for this dialogue, then?

this is from the ending cutscene for the 2.3 mission. we fixed that screen behind aventurine. so... why is it still broken?

yes, you could say that it's for the people who haven't completed the quest where it was fixed. but that quest, once upon a dreamville, is supposed to happen before this one, so it should be fixed anyways, right?

i personally don't think hoyo would overlook something like this and leave the cutscene inaccurate for a good portion of players and mess with the timeline unless there was a good reason. trying to hint that something's not right, maybe?

in an optional interaction on the radiant feldspar, welt says this:

...but that didn't happen. welt knows that jing yuan wasn't actually there, so why wouldn't he mention that at all? iirc, march, himeko, and the trailblazer don't mention anything amiss with this either, even though this is supposed to be a snapshot of the trailblazer's memory and it didn't actually happen. don't you think that's worth mentioning?

you also get these two pieces of dialogue:

both of which i find very suspicious. i tried to chalk it up to the trailblazer being paranoid after ena's dream, but they haven't expressed that anywhere else, and they're happy in these scenes. so... why would the writers put both of these here?

after interacting with these building blocks near the monitoring room in the dreamscape reverie, you get this strange dialogue:

i could be wrong, but as far as i know, from my experience and another person's, this dialogue only appears after the 2.3 update.

in this video, sparkle says this:

firstly, the answer is important. this question is repeated countless times throughout penacony's quests, and answered by multiple different important characters. second, it's also repeated countless times that in penacony, it's not just about being happy. there are so many people in the beautiful dream who are miserable, who threw their lives away to get there, who are forced to work tirelessly to try and fulfill their dreams only to get no where. both of the things she claims are untrue. it feels like they're trying to hint at something or distract us.

yes, you could chalk this up to sparkle being sparkle. but i don't know why they would put this in the official video saying goodbye to penacony if it was just that.

onto some smaller things - robin says this in the new checking out mission:

...they all woke up from their dreams already, no?

also from the aforementioned video:

why would they acknowledge that the audience isn't satisfied with the ending? they did that with qingque too, and with something March said at the end of the quest: "so even if there are parts of it that aren't really realistic nor logical, we still hope that their story gets a good ending when it comes." why would they acknowledge this three different times if the story is truly over?

it's also said that the astral express will run out of fuel in two warp jumps if we don't go on more trailblaze missions. why are we going to the xianzhou then, if we need to trailblaze to get more fuel?

one last thing. personally, the conclusion feels all too perfect. despite this, virtually nothing has changed for the people of penacony. the beautiful dream isn't any more beautiful than it was before. people are still spending all their money to get to penacony, still wasting the rest of their remaining lives away in the dreamscape, still failing to achieve their dreams after giving up everything. despite one crisis being averted, it isn't going to get any better for the people of penacony. is this really such a perfect ending?

-

there are definitely hints i'm missing, but this is what i have for now. if i find anything else, i'll put it in a reblog. also, most of these are things I've noticed myself, but I did get a few from MeganeSimp on twitter.

i know a lot of people were very happy with the ending of 2.3 - and i am too! i don't necessarily want this theory to be true, but i also can't ignore the hints that hoyo is giving us. well, i could, but they've been eating away at my brain for days now. sure, these could all be meaningless, but i don't think the writers would put all of this in for it all to mean absolutely nothing. they're hinting at something.

i am also not trying to say that everything that happened in 2.3 was fake. i believe it did all happen, just while everyone (or just the trailblazer?) was unaware that they were in a deeper layer of the dreamscape and couldn't get out.

alright, that's all. thank you for taking the time to read through this, i hope it wasn't as disjointed as it feels. also, there are admittedly many holes in this theory. if you have anything you want to point out that I've missed or that debunks this, please feel free!

[goodlucktai]

Uhuuh if you don't mind for the injury promo maybe 12 with splinter/lou and his boys, pls?

dialogue prompts

12. “Where are they? Where are they?!”

this one got away from me :') rise/2012 crossover babyyyyyyy

x

Splinter’s counterpart reacted to the news of their sons’ abduction with a level of dramatics that he would never ascribe to his own self. 

“What?” the shorter rat (“Call me Lou,” he had said, and then proceeded not to explain why) squawked at the disheveled humans still trying to collect their breath at the entrance of the lair. “When did this happen? How did this happen? There were TEN of you!”

Casey and April both winced in face of the not-unwarranted scolding. The children had had perhaps too much confidence as they left together earlier that evening. Donatello’s computer had alerted him in the middle of dinner to a new lead on the gang whose activity they had been following for the past weeks. Raphael had smashed his fists together, a wicked grin on his face, and said they should strike while their forces were doubled and make those ‘goons’ regret robbing every pharmacy in Manhattan north of The Battery. 

“Tiny feral Raph is hilarious,” Lou’s Purple had said in a deadpan. “And also alarmingly down to commit atrocities. I want to ride with him.”

And now, not even two full hours later, their human companions returned to report a resounding failure. 

Casey, scowling at the floor, said, “They got the drop on us. The door sealed as soon as we were in and the room started filling up with gas.”

“They said they were chemists,” April added. She couldn’t lift her head enough to look Splinter in the eye, staring hard somewhere near his shoulder instead. “One of their colleagues was mutated about a year ago and they’ve been studying the mutagen ever since. I don’t know what they want with the boys, but they made it sound like the gas was made with the turtle’s physiology in mind. That it would outright kill me and Casey, but shouldn’t harm them.”

Lou was bristling, tail lashing. “‘Shouldn’t’ is the word they used?” he gritted out. 

“Yeah. It hit them hard in seconds. But Blue—uh, your Leo—” Casey said, with an uncomfortable sideways look at Lou, “—he managed to get one of his swords out and portaled me and April away. We waited for like five minutes to see if he’d get anyone else out, but…”

But no one came goes unsaid. 

Splinter tapped his walking stick on the floor once to recall their focus, warm affection filling his chest for these little Hamato adoptees who fell haphazardly into his clan. 

“Lou is correct,” he said. “It is unfortunate that your team was so quickly overwhelmed. We will discuss how to better handle situations like this another time.” 

Both humans stood a little taller when it became clear that that conversation would be tabled for the time being, and April finally found it within herself to meet Splinter’s eyes. 

“For now—” he started, only for Lou to cut him off with a sound not unlike a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” the shorter rat snapped. “I don’t care if they lost within two minutes, let alone two hours. I only meant,” he went on, with a hard look at the teenagers, “that you should have called the instant you were in danger! Why on earth would you run all the way home like this without letting us know what had happened, putting yourselves at unnecessary risk? This organization could have had additional members waiting to pick you off when you were alone! You could have at least made time to send a text!”

Casey and April looked absolutely bewildered. Their respect for Splinter was so deeply ingrained by now that it carried over to this odd likeness of him but they did not seem to know what to do with this manner of reprimand. 

“Uh,” Casey said eloquently. “Splinter doesn’t have a phone.”

“There was the cheese phone,” April interjected. “Sorry, I mean, he had a landline. But the wiring got messed up awhile ago and Donnie never got around to fixing it.”

“You have seven children,” Lou seethed, narrowing his eyes at Splinter, “and you don’t see the importance of having a working phone?”

Splinter frowned. He was taken aback by the number seven, but more so by this hostility that seemed to have sprung up from nowhere. 

“We have gotten along just fine. Donatello’s inclination towards technology was not inherited from me.”

“There’s no time to continue this conversation, and if we do I am liable to start screaming profanities anyway. Jones, O’Neil, take me to my boys.” 

Lou was still bristling with anger, only now that Splinter was looking closer, he saw that the shorter rat was actually bristling. His fur was standing up as though with electric static. 

“If even one scale on their shells has been harmed,” he added darkly, to no one in particular, “there will be hell to pay.”

April led the way to the garage at a sprint, hopping up without breaking stride to grab the keys from their hook on the wall just inside the door. She tossed the keys to Casey and claimed the front passenger seat for herself, leaving the two fathers to pile into the back of the van. 

It wasn’t until she was still that Splinter noticed her fingertips were red and raw from where she had bitten the nails down to the quick. As Casey started the engine, her thumbnail found its way back between her teeth, blue eyes feverish with worry as she stared into the middle distance. 

She was very anxious, for all that she seemed determined to keep it to herself in present company. Her sideways glance at Casey made it clear that she wanted to share her thoughts with him; a flick of her eyes toward the rearview mirror decided her continued silence.

On the bench seat beside him, Splinter watched Lou take out his own phone. It was a thin flat device, held in a protective case that looked like it would probably survive an apocalypse. The caller ID on the screen was a picture of that behemoth snapping turtle in a fuzzy pink hoodie, squeezed cheek-to-cheek with his tiny spotted brother so they both fit into the frame. 

“Red, this is no time to screen my calls!” Lou said when the tinny automated voice encouraged him to leave a message. “Contact me at once or you are grounded for a month! No, two months!”

“They are probably in no position to answer,” Splinter pointed out, Lou’s restlessness leaving him feeling ill-at-ease. “I am sure they are fine. My sons have been in situations like this countless times.”

Lou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yoshi, I’m going to level with you. I don’t know how to explain that it’s weird you have become desensitized to the news that your children are in danger. My Baby Blue once locked himself inside a prison dimension with an evil killing machine, and less than a year after that he almost cracked his foolish head open on that ridiculous half-pipe mimicking some superstar skater, and my soul left my body in exactly the same manner both times. That never changes. It has never gone away.”

It was disingenuous of Lou to presume that Splinter did not worry after his sons. Of course he did. They were his greatest pride and it was a privilege he did not deserve to have raised them. 

But they were not the clumsy toddlers they once were; at some point, the parent must let go of the bicycle and step back, or the child will never learn to ride it. 

Splinter could not say he had ever taken the time to consider what it might have been like to meet another version of himself—one who had lived a similar life but had made different choices. He almost did not recognize himself at all in the fussy, short-tempered mutant sitting beside him. 

Lou checked his phone no less than eleven more times during the twenty-minute drive. By the time Casey finally announced, “This is it,” Lou was out of the van before it had even begun to slow. 

“The two of you must remain here,” Splinter told the teenagers in the front firmly. He couldn’t help but think of Lou’s scolding from earlier, and added, “If there is any sign of danger, escape at once and go to the Mutanimals. They will help.”

“I texted the group chat earlier and they haven’t seen it yet,” Casey said, flicking through his phone to double-check. 

“We can’t just leave you,” April added with enough stubborn loyalty that she could have been Raphael’s twin sister. 

“You absolutely can leave us, or you will be grounded, too,” Lou interjected from over by the door, his voice taking on that sharp no-nonsense tone Splinter had last heard directed at Blue over breakfast to curb his relentless teasing of Donatello. 

‘It is just how he and Purple show affection to each other,’ Lou had explained to Donatello, whose shoulders had begun to creep up towards his ears the longer Blue carried on. ‘That does not make it any less irritating for the rest of us though!’

‘Skill issue,’ his twins said in unison. 

‘I will cram all three of you into the get-along shirt! Do not test me!’ Lou had snapped in that particular tone that caused his children to grumble and sulk but ultimately obediently subside. 

Similarly, April scowled but did not seem willing to argue any further. Splinter would have expected her to give a Miwa-worthy retort that she was too old to be grounded and not Splinter’s daughter to discipline besides, but she only jerked her chin in a barely passable nod and said nothing more. An equally unhappy but unargumentative Casey turned off the headlights and twirled the steering wheel, backing the van up and parking it by the access road.

Lou had already kicked the reinforced door down by the time Splinter joined him, and he barely had a moment to think My seventeen-year-olds are stealthier than that before he realized Lou had not come with stealth in mind.

He had the first unfortunate human within his line of sight pinned to the ground with a knife in seconds, barking, “Where are they? Where are they?”

The human, caught unawares, coughed at the unforgiving pressure on her windpipe, and managed to wheeze out, “Wh-who do you—”

“You are a scientist, and therefore I know you are not an idiot,” Lou hissed, much like the animal he had been mutated with. “Do not waste my time acting like one.” 

The woman scrabbled at his arms, for what little good it did. Her eyes, behind the clear visor of the gas mask, were wide with fear. To her credit, she steeled herself enough to cling to whatever mission she and her associates seemed to have rallied behind, saying, “So many incredible things could be—be accomplished—if we had a chance to study the mutagen more closely, if we had test subjects with human-like intelligence. It’s closer to magic than science, and we could do so much—”

“You would experiment on children? My children? Turn them into lab rats?” The last he said with a very personal sort of dark anger. The scientist coughed again, and her renewed struggles were a desperate, animalistic thing as she lost the last of her air beneath the unrelenting press of Lou’s hand. “Is that what you think you should be saying to me? Is that what you think will save you—an appeal to the greater good?”

Splinter dispatched the handful of people who streamed into the room in a series of swift strikes. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

“Lou,” he said, “that is enough. We are here for our sons.”

He was not unsettled by the shorter rat’s capacity for violence. He knew himself better than that. But he did not understand Lou’s hair-trigger temper, his turtle-shaped blind spot. He couldn’t speak for the other’s students, but Splinter’s own were experienced, and tempered, and incredibly skilled. After everything they survived and accomplished together up until now, he found it hard to believe that an organization of regular humans could pose much of a threat to their well-being. 

From the way Lou was acting, it was as if he was any ordinary parent whose ordinary children had been taken in the night. 

Splinter shifted to intervene when the woman Lou had pinned continued to choke. Finally, Lou released her enough that she could heave in desperate breaths. 

“You would not actually kill her,” Splinter chided him, no fan of theatrics. 

“Someone has not been paying attention,” Lou replied shortly. “If my boys are hurt, I will burn this building down with everyone inside it. Honor can go hang itself.”

With that, he removed the woman’s gas mask and informed her that she would lead them to the turtles without making a scene, or she would bleed to death on the floor and they would find the turtles on their own. White-faced, she wisely settled for the first option. 

Leading them toward the back of the building, where rooms that were once offices had since been repurposed into labs and testing areas, the woman said hoarsely, “I didn’t know they were kids.”

Like clockwork, Lou’s fur bristled with offense. “They are wearing matching Sanrio hoodies. They speak in memes. I am sure at least one of them called you a boomer to your face.”

“No, I meant,” she said, touching her bruised throat briefly before dropping her hand, “I meant I didn’t know they were someone’s kids. I’m—I wouldn’t have—sorry. We were trying to do good. I’m sorry.”

“Hmph. I will consider forgiving you in roughly one hundred years as long as my turtles are completely fine. This door here?”

He kicked it down before she could move her head more than one half-inch in a nod. There was a flurry of excitement inside, and then Blue’s voice rang out, “Daddy!”

He sounded ecstatic to see his father, but not at all shocked. His words were a little slurred as he went on, “I told them you’d be here any minute. Our cousins over there wanted to stage a break-out, and I was like. Just nap. You know? Just take five. See, Miguel’s got the right idea.”

“Hush, silly turtle,” Lou said, his tone now a complete departure from how he had sounded for the last half hour. “Come here, let me look at you all. I need to be absolutely certain no one in this building deserves to die before we leave.”

Splinter joined him inside the room in time to take in the sight of the shorter rat attempting to hold all four of his much larger sons in his arms. Orange was deeply asleep in Red’s lap, his smaller stature probably contributing to the higher concentration of the drug in his system. The twins were upright at a forty-five degree angle, and Red himself seemed groggy but alert for the most part. They were smiling as they absorbed their father's fussy attention, leaning into his hands.

Comparatively, Splinter’s own sons were swaying where they sat. Michelangelo’s eyes were open, but his head was resting on Donatello’s shoulder, Donatello’s cheek propped on the crown of his little brother’s head. Raphael was wired, digging fingers into his thighs to keep himself awake, while Leonardo seemed to have been startled out of a meditation by the door crashing down. 

They all lurched with surprise to see Splinter standing there. Leonardo in particular gazed up at him with wide eyes, as if he didn’t know what to do now that the task of rescuing the seven others was no longer his responsibility. As if he had no experience with a burden being lifted away once he had decided it was his to carry. 

For the first time all night, Splinter faltered. 

On the other side of the room, Blue said, “I’m, uh, sorry. I wanted to get us out, but I didn’t have time for more than one door.” 

“Dum-dum,” Purple said succinctly. “O’Neil and Jones would be dead if they were still here.”

“Dee’s right for once, Leon,” Red rumbled, “you made the only call you could.”

“But I should have been able to save everyone, right?” Blue said. “I’m the leader.”

“You,” Lou said sternly, holding Blue’s face in both hands, “are seventeen.” 

That’s right, Splinter found himself thinking, looking down at his eldest son. The brilliant boy he taught to read, the one he taught to fold origami flowers for his mother and sister’s shrine, the one he had stopped holding one day without even realizing it. He is. 

[heartilywrites]

i rlly like your gyomei fic! :3

can i request some tragic yet wholesome stuff w him?

the reader is a fragile health person, however she's very stubborn and often overwork to the point of fainting. that’s because they’re gyomei’s childhood friend (and fiancé maybe) and often times she feel guilty for not being strong enough to be a demon slayer. they probably work w lady amane.

،، 𝓒ommunication ; G. Himejima

request guide | masterlist

resume: where a visit to the butterfly estate made Gyomei realize something.

content warning: hurt to comfort ; Gyomei Himejima x fem!reader ; established relationship; r is not a slayer ; it totally comes with angst ; i feel like its a bit ooc for amane's dialogues,,, ill let you decide on that ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.7k

a/n: HI thank you i'm glad you liked the fic <33 i loved doing this one, i'm weak to write angst i love it. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, LOVE, ENJOY:D banner does not represent r in any way, it's just a painting i liked <3

“ All your thoughts running through your head, the things you think better left unsaid.

Shinobu took a step out of the room when the sound of a crow squawking and heavy footsteps were suddenly heard, a stone hashira with concern painted all over his face was what her eyes met in a fraction of second.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where is she? Is she okay? What happened?” the older one asked, desperate.

Kocho smiled softly and nodded. “She is okay, Himejima, she's sleeping right now, but you can stay and let her tell you what happened.”

Gyomei nodded back and took his step in the room where you were laying down, peacefully sleeping after such scary event. You, his beautiful fiancée, the love of his life, the person who had seen all his phases, looking so fragile before him. After sitting to your left, his big hands took your closest one with such caution and love, the warm feeling of your skin made him sigh in relief. Gyomei could hear your very slow and almost imperceptible breaths, he tried to replicate them to calm his nerves.

You knew you shouldn't be working more than you could handle, you knew how your health could change drastically in a blink of an eye, then why were you doing it anyway? Gyomei couldn’t get through his head how foolish you could be. He loved you, oh, you had no idea the amount of love the stone hashira felt for you ever since meeting you when you two were children and seeing you not taking care of yourself like you were supposed to be doing made him feel angry. Angry at Amane for not stopping you after you usually insisted that you could handle another heavy task, angry at you for not recognizing your own limits and more important: angry at himself for not being able to take care of you like he wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei?” the calling of his name in such a hoarsely manner made his face lit up a bit, your free hand made contact with his face to clean the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I'm sorry.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought we had an agreement.” he whispered, his voice didn’t sound mad, but you either way made a small grimace. “You are supposed to take care of yourself instead of being out there working.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, stop...” you shook your head, taking away the hand he was holding. “You don't understand–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, no, I do understand.” he cut you off. “I understand that you don't care about your own well-being, you're the one who doesn't understand how if this does not stop soon, it will only get worse with time. Don't I provide enough for you to not worry? Why do you keep doing this?”

Your eyes blinked astonished to his words, that had to be the first time he talked to you like that. “This is not about you, Gyomei, it's about how this” your hands signaled the room and yourself. “Makes me weak, I'm not strong enough to be a demon slayer, I'm not good enough to help out there in such dangerous times we live, when help is much needed out there and you better than anyone else know this.”

Now the man was the one who was in a loss of words. He didn’t know you felt like that, he definitely was feeling bad to jump so quick to attack you like that.

Your relationship had been build up by communication and trust, and Gyomei felt like he maybe hadn't been asking the correct questions or worse, you just didn’t trust him with your feelings about your condition like he thought you did.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to be left alone, please.” you said when he tried to talk again, wanting to apologize. “We can talk later.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I... I have a mission.” he answered with a sigh leaving his mouth. “I'll be quick and we can talk about this when I get back.”

A small humming noise vibrated on your throat, agreeing. “Take care, honey, I love you.”

Gyomei adored the way you always said the sweetest of things when he needed to leave you for a couple of hours or days even if you two were having an argument just before leaving. His job had always put his life on the line and even if you were mad at him, you knew it was a thing of the moment, something temporary that you wouldn't risk for it to be permanent in his mind, if anything happened you wanted him to remember you loved him, you always had and always will.

The stone hashira left a small kiss on your forehead after a whispered 'I love you too' had sounded and a ephemeral smile was shown your way before leaving, you watched him leave while playing with your engagement ring. You weren't double thinking about marrying him at all, you were totally sure you wanted to be his wife, you had been dreaming for quite some time now about being his wife, but the previous talk made you nervous about what he would say when he came back.

Both of you had this heartache the days Gyomei was out on the mission. That time was well used by the hashira, his mind thought about your words, he acknowledged your feelings towards your situation and he realized just then why you were so eager to be always helping Amane, it was your way to feel useful under the corporation. His heart felt both warm and shattered to such realization.

His walk back took him longer than defeating the demon he was assigned to take out, the stone hashira was practicing what he could say to you, the things he wanted you to know. Before arriving to his estate, Gyomei had bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers; when he entered by the front door and at the moment he wasn't greeted by a crushing hug from you, his feet turned back around and started to walk to the Master's estate knowing fully well you'll be there.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Himejima!” Amane greeted happily when he was announced, the named one bowed to her. “I'm glad you came back safe. Your fiancée is just bringing some important documents we needed, she'll be back soon.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Thank you for taking care of her.” he said smiling softly to the pale woman, she shook her head a bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No need, I try to give her the easiest tasks to prevent any issues, but she's quite the stubborn girl, huh?” the hashira smiled bright at your description.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I know, I will talk to her about it, we don't want anything bad happening to her.” he finished just when the sound of your steps began to be louder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, you're back!” you exclaimed in such a sweet way he felt finally complete. “Here you go, Amane, may I leave now?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sure, no problem!” the white haired woman smiled big to the two of you. “Enjoy your time, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You took your fiancé's arm to walk back to your shared estate.

Halfway through he remembered the bouquet and extended it to you, when you gasped happy he smiled, brighter at the thank you your mouth said. Once back to the estate, you were quick to put the flowers in a vase and sit beside your fiancé, Gyomei looked for your hand and left caresses on the back of it when he found it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to begin,” he said before you. “I would like to apologize to you, my love, I wasn't aware of how you felt and now that I know I get why you like to push yourself, but I really want you to take care of yourself.” your eyes were scanning your partner's face while he talked. “You are the most precious thing I have in my life, my rock where I can find rest, the first one to lend a helping hand when I need it.”

Your free hand went to place to the big one taking your other, the feeling of your touch made Gyomei feel an electric current travel his back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, know that I just want to protect you from everything I can, if I need to fight Muzan with my bare hands just to assure you will be okay trust me that I will do it.” your face started to feel warmer to such comment. “I'm sorry that you feel like you're of no help, but you couldn’t be more wrong, you're such an important piece in this corporation just as any of us are. Not fighting demons doesn't make you any less important.”

His eyes started to tear, your own were glossy with tears as well at such beautiful words he was saying to you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I will take better care of myself, love.” you answered after a couple of seconds of silence. “I promise, I won't overwork myself.”

Gyomei smiled a little bit. “You know? I always knew you would be such a strong and hardworking woman when we played together and you were the one putting all of us in order.”

You giggled, cleaning the couple of tears that had escape your eyes. “Well, it was always a mess to play something as a group, someone needed to guide that mess.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What if our kids happen to be a mess themselves? Like our old friends.” the question made your face grew hotter.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei Himejima, we haven't gotten married yet and you are already planning kids.” now it was your fiancé's turn to giggle.

The rest of the afternoon felt lighter, with everything sorted out you two could finally breath again. Not even after decades of knowing each other a fight took a bad turn, ever since you two were friends at childhood when one got angry to the other it was just a matter of talking it. Obviously it took a bit of try and error for your relationship to get to this exact point, but the path was definitely worth it to such beautiful relationship you two had built together.

[kisilinramblings]

Rewatching Re-Creation and I want to bring this bit of dialogue during the fight that I believed got obscured.

Bug Noire : Do you think that is what Adrien wants? To discover his father has turned into a supervillain, willing to make innocent people pay the price of his madness? Monarch : Adrien would do the same thing! Bug Noire : Never! Unlike you, Adrien has made his peace with it. He's not living in the past. He has a whole life ahead of him. You've noticed if you had ever took an interest in him. But in reality, Adrien means nothing to you anymore. You've locked him into your house. Locked him in your Alliance rings. Locked him into a life that allows you to hide behind him to justify your madness.

Marinette isn't covering the truth because Gabriel asked her to.

Her motivations lies on what she thinks Adrien wants. On what she believes would make him at peace in the circumstances. But like this dialog shows, both of Gabriel and Marinette are both correct and wrong at the same time.

Gabriel is somewhat right. Adrien did think about it. To save Nathalie (Passion) or even his mom (confirmed in the Paris Special). But it is the price to pay that always deters Adrien in the end.

Claw Noir : If I make a wish, I'll have a chance to get the only thing I want. I'll bring her back to life! I'll see my mother again! Adrien : I know. I know you, you know. Claw Noir : No, you don't. Don't pretend to be me. Or else you wouldn't be friend with the cockroach. If you were me, your mother would also be-- Adrien : She is. Claw Noir : But... If you knew about the wish, why haven't you tried it? Adrien : I won't tell you that I never thought about it. Of course, I've thought about it. But... everything comes at a price. If my mother came back-- Claw Noir : Our mother. Adrien : If we were to bring our mother back, someone else would have to lose theirs. And that, I can't wish that on anyone. Me? I manage to go on living. Trying to be happy as she wanted me to. I have my friends to comfort me. I'm okay now. I'm as well as I can be anyway.

Marinette is unaware of all of that thanks to the secret identity. Adrien is often masking how he is truly feeling to his friends. But it is also true that Adrien continues on living and tries to be happy again. That is why he went to school and made friends. But it isn't exactly true to say that Adrien is at peace, especially with the quote above. Adrien is trying but Gabriel is by far the largest obstacle that impeded him. And Marinette pointed it out.

Bug Noire : Everything will be back to normal. Checkmate. Except you will only have a few hours left to live. So does Nathalie, a victim of your madness. And Adrien will be miserable. This is the sad truth. My power won't be able to remedy it. If you've meant what you've said earlier, then we both want the same thing. We want Adrien to be happy. And that was also your wife's greatest wish.

Basically, all are acting on what they think will make Adrien the happiest. But all fail at asking the main interested party what he wants to begin with.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning. 

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.” 

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own. 

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again. 

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer.  But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is. 

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning. 

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.” 

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around. 

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing. 

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day. 

For Callie at least. 

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning. 

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning. 

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town. 

“Mommy, Joe’s here!” 

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber. 

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit. 

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been “too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2. 

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture. 

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.” 

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected. 

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it. 

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.” 

Damn. 

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone. 

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.” 

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point. 

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in. 

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?” 

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door. 

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.” 

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.” 

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural. 

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation. 

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” 

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize.  “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.” 

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened. 

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”' 

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass. 

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.” 

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3. 

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.” 

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this. 

Missed it being just the two of you. 

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it. 

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years? 

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her. 

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.” 

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist. 

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well. 

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth. 

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife. 

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss. 

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say. 

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will. 

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway. 

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed. 

“I just need time to think.” 

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom. 

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions. 

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely. 

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do. 

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms. 

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

[meanbossart]

Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

[chocmoon-latte]

"Hancock has no regrets about becoming a ghoul"??

It baffles me when some people think Hancock has zero regrets about becoming a ghoul. Absolutely none at all apparently. Like yeah, he plays it up when you first meet him before he's a companion, but let's be real he plays up pretty much everything in regards to the whole "sexy king of the zombies" image he projects.

It takes travelling with you away from Goodneighbor to give him some time to be introspective for him to finally realize that him becoming a ghoul was just another escape route from himself again. He's got several lines of dialogue that literally reiterate this. It's a key point of his character:

Hell, running from myself is what made me into… into a damn Ghoul.

Well, I mean, I didn't always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a Ghoul, I knew what it was going to do.

I just couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore.

The coward who'd let all those Ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys.

If I took it, I'd never have to look at him again. I could put that all behind me. I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me running from somethin' else in my life.

I mean, after reaching max affinity with you, he realizes that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all (because he's finally got an honest friend he can be open with now). He now feels comfortable where he is - but to imply that he doesn't have at least the tiniest amount of regret? Heck, if you go onto romance him (or attempt to), he stops referring to himself as handsome and literally starts calling himself ugly, which naturally goes entirely against the image he projects:

Why don't we just agree to keep it friendly for now or till they find a cure for ugly? Heh.

You don't want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.

You sure you want to be stuck with this ugly mug?

(You could even say he implies it beforehand with another line of dialogue elsewhere in-game when he says "I'd be mad too if I was that ugly." But that's a stretch I guess.)

Combine that with the fact that 99% of ghouls don’t choose to become ghouls. Hancock did. But he didn't do it for a fun experience. He was already in a bad place when he became a ghoul. He didn't turn to be cool and edgy like he pretended he did when first getting to know him.

He lost his appearance, any connections to his old identity and old friends/people he might’ve been associated with (for better or worse), and in return gained hostility from bigots towards him for merely existing, from an overwhelming majority of the Commonwealth population that hates ghouls. There's the Institute and Brotherhood who want to kill anyone like him on top of that. Plenty of people out there who think he and other ghouls are monsters for just being alive.

Not only that, but something which adds onto this is the fact that he's a client of the Memory Den, and they're very selective with their customers. And what's the whole point of the Memory Den? Reliving past memories. Irma's terminal entry about Hancock, as well as the other two ghoul clients Kent and Daisy, all imply the memories they go back to relive are primarily from their human days. (The one on Hancock straight up says "if you thought he was handsome and dangerous now, you should've seen him before he turned ghoul.")

I genuinely refuse to believe that Hancock has never had any regret whatsoever about becoming a ghoul. The man who's spent a decent chunk of his life running from his own problems instead of confronting them, has NO regrets about taking a drug that alters his entire being and functionality on a biological level and will force him to outlive everyone he knows? This man is FULL of regrets!

[m4rs-ex3]

so i finally finished the book 1 novelization. after owning it for 3 years. .............................................i've been busy. anyway, let the thoughts commence!

also i only started marking sections at like ep 5 don't ask why

even CLAUDIA could tell that rayla was a cinnamon roll

stop she's incredible

a) he's a dork b) i think they should kiss

"this freckle-faced goof [gren] was going to be the easiest prisoner he'd ever encountered." is he right? yes. am i still taking offense to this? yes

"'i didn't kill anyone,' Rayla said. it surprised her that she was so proud of this fact." YAS YOU GO GIRL

these additional details are incredibly necessary thank you so much Book

"Viren blinked twice, amazed at the folly of his own offspring." i know that it's incredibly sad but goddamn that is so funny

STOPPPPPPPP I CANT 😭 the use of the word "adored" no one fucking talk to me

them

"Rayla and Callum didn't know how easy they had it, what with their long legs and no heavy dragon egg on their backs."

the way that even back then ez was already thinking like a king, even when the subject was so "not of a king's concern," for lack of a better term (why am i rhyming)

what can i even say about this oh my god

"'no, not really, dummy.' sometimes, Rayla could barely believe the denseness she had to put up with."

god i love him god i love him i l obe him i love him i love hiom oi love hiojm and everybody clapped

sometimes these slight dialogue changes mean the world to me

his autistic ass 😭

"he turned and spoke only to her." i am dying

"i've always been different. it's hard for me to make friends with other kids. i just feel like i don't fit in." -> "i've always been different. i don't really 'get' other kids, and it's... so hard for me to fit in." this is AUTISTIC CODING he has AUTISM that is IT we have autistic claudia try and tell me that this child does have the tism and that they don't fucking know that

LMAO LITERALLY KICKING ROCKS HE'S SUCH A PISSBABY I LOVE IT

this is Everything to me. i. a moment of all time. behead me

i think they should kiss pt 2

STOP THEY CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS TO ME THE SIBLINGS OF ALL TIME ISTG

"Callum lingered" "for some reason, she wanted to share what she had seen with Callum, even is she didn't tell anyone else" i. think. they. should. kiss.

"Callum glared at his brother. there was a ginormous spider in their way. many things about this situation weren't right."

SHUT UP WHAT DO I EVEN SAY ABOUT THIS. OH YOURE TELLING ME THAT RAYLA IS IN A WHOLE NOTHER CLASS FROM ELLIS AND AVA?? THAT SHE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN A "FRIEND"??? BOTH IS THE SENSE THAT HE IS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER AND THAT HE JUST GENERALLY MEANS MORE TO HIM????? IM THEOWING U _P (hey guys i think they should kiss)

shut the fuck up. buddy. i am gagged

oh Him

damn girl's always had a problem with Layla 💀

dear christ. the matter of fact "no, this is not your fault" (4x06 "Rayla. don't."), "he couldn't let Rayla carry that burden alone" (5x04, anybody?) also i am 100% reading way too far into this but it's still callum's pov so he is the one who described her "violet eyes" and i just would like to state this for the record

and oh yeah i think they should kiss

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 019: The Piggyback

If you had the chance to do it over again with Eddie — and DO IT RIGHT — would you?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* * = somewhat smut , ** = smut

CW: hospital setting, dialogue heavy, uncertainty, fluff, talks of blood/broken bones/etc., car accident implications

word count: 2.5k words

“I’ll pick up these broken pieces ‘til I’m bleeding, if that’ll make it right.”

♡

Hawkins Memorial Hospital reeks of bleach wipes and bitter tears.

“Eddie…” Dustin wails. “No no no, noooo. Eddie…”

You’re sitting on the floor of the nurses station with Robin, Steve, and Nancy while the ‘kiddos’ occupy the waiting chairs. Surely, it's got to be unsanitary, but contracting germs off the floor of the ICU were the least of your concerns.

Your eyes follow Wayne as he helplessly wheels around, talking to anyone who would lend him an ear... anyone who would possibly know anything about his nephew’s condition.

“And my nephew — Eddie — he's self-employed,” Wayne continues to tell them.

Wheeling…wheeling…wheeling…

“But the Program he’s with allows him to go through Scott Clarke. You know Scott Clarke Insurance? It’s S-c-o-t-t, C-l-a-r-k-e… I’m through them too…”

But the able-bodied personnel are too fast for old Wayne, walking at a speed about 5mph while his frail fingers can only allow him up to 2 and a half. Just like the liters of oxygen he is on.

“Does he have a case manager assigned to him yet?” Wayne wonders. “If so I would like their name, please.”

Eventually Wayne’s voice fades the further away he gets. And just so you don't wallow in your misery, you go to your phone to see if anyone else has been reaching out to you for updates.

Justice (Hellfire)

Omg just heard the news! Hey girlie, is Eddie ok??? Can we come see him yet??

Just as you expected. Annoyed, you respond.

Girl fuck you

Suddenly a hand squeezes your kneecap. You didn't realize how aggressively you were tapping your feet until Max stops you.

“Doing okay, sis?”

“Yeah I'm just...” you sigh. “…going through all the emotions I guess. And in a fucked up way, I'm kinda convinced this is all my fault."

“You're a dumbass," she scowls at you. "How could you have possibly seen this coming? This was not in anyone’s control."

“I broke the rule,” is all you say. “We never go to bed angry.”

The odds have always been against you. You would think you knew that by now. It was probably why you spent all morning beating yourself up; because you knew that if you did, there's a huge possibility that Eddie would pull through. The Universe is twisted like that.

Suddenly, a pair of white coats are seen coming out of Eddie's room. Everybody in the party immediately stands, like it's some formation exercise at a bootcamp of sorts. Wayne eventually circles back as well, gazing up at Dr. Owens with hopeful eyes.

“Eddie is going to be okay,” Owens concludes. “You can all breathe now.”

The room fills with bone-weary, but nonetheless celebratory cheers. Owens and Eddie's nurse, Nurse Patty allows everybody to hug one another in relief. Eddie's doctor goes to speak again when the clamor dies down.

“But he did have to undergo emergency surgery,” Dr. Owens adds. “And he lost a lot of blood, so we have him on additional transfusions, as well as an antibiotic for an infection caused by his wounds. The plan for him is to recover, hopefully get him up with therapy when the time is right, and then he can get out of here.”

“Can we see him?” your voice cracks.

“That is up to him," the doctor responds. "But for now, what the young man told me is that he wants chocolate pudding... and to see his Uncle and girlfriend."

You and Wayne waste no time. Unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair, you lug Eddie's uncle into ICU room #010, unsure of what is to greet you behind the curtains.

The room is littered with juice and jello, laced by an overpowering bleach-esque fragrance that most likely was there to mask the innate smell of blood and other bodily fluids.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the familiar IV machine. And funny enough, Eddie has his TV on, blasting South Park on full volume, exactly the way it normally would be playing at the Harrington-Munson estate.

"…tell everyone the truth about whose fault this is! I didn't do anything!" ... "...you KNEW about the prank, you could've stopped it at any time, but you didn't say a word. SILENCE IS VIOLENCE!"

And there is Eddie, dressed in a mesh-fabric gauze bandana, a worn-out beige hospital gown, with matching grippy socks. His entire lower lip is busted, left arm in a cast, both of his heels elevated with blood-saturated pillows. And his hair... you didn't even want to think about the matting. But that is ground to be covered much later.

When Eddie sees the two of you, he only utters one sentence:

“Does this mean I finally get that motorcycle?”

“You fucking idiot!” you wail going in to hug him.

Eddie chuckles solemnly as you completely fall into his embrace, soaking his gown with your salty tears.

"I thought we lost you, Eddie,” you whisper in his ear as you sniff your tears away. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did...knowing what I said."

He strokes your hair. "You have every right to be mad at me. I've been such a shitty boyfriend to you."

“I second that,” Wayne huffs, crossing his arms. “The idiot part, I mean… but I’m glad you’re okay, son.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles. “I knew those Eddie Stops would catch up to me one day.”

Eventually, the rest of the party spills in, starting with the batallion of younger Hellfire boys who were inconsolable all morning, absolutely petrified of losing their role-model.

"Jesus,” Dustin breathes. “We thought you were a-goner!”

"Hey guys, good to see ya," Eddie grins, soaking up every bit of attention from his little minions as they all pile on top of him. Suddenly, he flinches. "Hey hey hey, watch my IVs! I've got an important med running through that piggyback."

"Right, sorry," they all utter in unison as they separate themselves from him.

Steve is next in line to give Eddie a hug, followed by Robin, and Nancy, and soon Jonathan. Chrissy and Argyle are the next people to trail in, with Henry and Nina at their tail. Then, the Corroded Coffin boys soon after.

"Eddie, oh my god!" Chrissy cries. "Don't you ever scare any of us like that again!"

"Good to see ya, Chris," Eddie smiles, giving her a one-armed hug. "Hey Neens! Creel! Villalobos. Boys.”

"So not cool man," Argyle shakes his head. "So not cool. We were worried sick for you."

As you all iron out the details, it is discovered that Eddie got into the accident shortly after leaving your place. He, in fact did, pull an Eddie Stop, failing to see the car coming at him from his left side, which then resulted in him getting T-boned. The other driver was okay. In fact, he was the one who called the ambulance for him.

"How much longer until you're discharged?" Nancy asks.

"I'm not too sure," Eddie sighs. "Hopefully in a few weeks."

He fails to sit up completely, wincing once again when his pain drags him down. Everybody nearly rushes to his aid, tenderly lowering Eddie back onto the bed while encouraging him to take it easy.

"Don't even worry about it, Eds," Lucas assures him. "We can hold down the fort."

"Oh that's reassuring," Eddie mutters sarcastically, shaking his head in discontent.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing!"

---

You decide to stay with Eddie for the afternoon while everyone else goes home. A couple others stay behind as well, so you all take turns alternating, helping the nurses with their care and making sure Eddie isn't alone when a specialist from his team comes to see him.

But for now, it's just you and him, cuddled up in his rather stiff hospital bed, watching TV to pass time by.

"It feels weird sitting in place for once," he comments. "My body isn't used to laying down for a long period of time."

"Constantly in fight or flight, huh?" you tut. "Always on the go..."

Eddie whistles. "God, you have no idea..."

"Nah, I do," you insist, grabbing his hand to kiss it. "Our flights just look a lil different is all."

Suddenly, your phone rings again, causing both you and Eddie to jolt in shock. This time, it's your FaceTime ringtone... and on the other line, is Kassidy, quite possibly accompanied by the other Hellfire Girls.

"Jesus H. Christ," you mumble. "They've been spamming me all morning. Probably just wanna know how you're doing."

"Answer it," Eddie encourages you sharply. His tone is rather gruff, and urgent. "I need to talk to them."

Because you're nice enough to allow the girls the luxury of knowing their lord and savior is alive, you answer the call and hand your phone to Eddie. There's a slight pause before the call is connected.

"Hi," is all Eddie says.

"Eddie! OMG!" the girls squeal through the other line, of course all while failing to acknowledge you — the person whose number they called in the first place. "Are you okay?!"

"Yes girls, I'm fine..." he sighs. "How's Hellfire? Everyone holding down the fort?"

"Of course, just like we do best," Kassidy responds. "We just miss you, Eddie. What happened?"

"Got T-boned."

"OMG, whose fault was it?"

"Mine," he seems relatively short with them.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in a little bit of pain. But I got some pain meds to help me."

"Thank God!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hospital walls, Nina and Chrissy stare at each other in bewilderment, a look that is naturally followed by one of disgust.

"Oh I know damn well..." Nina shakes her head.

"Stupid ass bitches," Chrissy adds.

Being the nosy girls they are, Nina and Chrissy crane their heads over into the room, eavesdropping on the FaceTime conversation between Eddie and the Hellfire Girls.

"Oh Eddie," Emmy pouts. "We're so glad that you're doing okay."

"Yeah, Eddie!" Lady chirps. "When do you think you'll be released?"

"Hopefully I'll be out in about two weeks," Eddie responds. "But I'll stay at home for a bit before coming back. You won't even know I'm gone."

The girls cheer obnoxiously on the other line. You try to act indifferent towards everything for Eddie's sake, but it's hard for you to feign something that so evidently isn't true.

Eddie senses it. And what he says next to the girls takes you by surprise.

"...But," Eddie says. "In that same amount of time, I expect your lockers to be cleared... as well as your side of the dressing room."

There's a brief silence while the girls try to piece together what Eddie means by that. Because surely it doesn't mean what they initially thought it meant.

"Why? Are we getting moved?"

"No, you're all getting terminated."

So it was exactly what they thought it meant.

"Wh-what? Why?!"

"What do you mean why?" Eddie demands.

He begins to list off everything they have done wrong, all of which they pretended to be oblivious about until now.

"The final straw is calling my girlfriend's phone, non-stop, knowing that's the only way to get through to me," Eddie goes on. "And not even acknowledging her! And even if you did, you all have some damn nerve considering what you guys did at Hellfire."

"You don't even have proof of us damaging her property though!" Justice argues. "So for all we know, you're just accusing us of things, Eddie."

"That's funny," you speak up. "Who said anything about property damage?"

Caught in their own trap.

The MAIN reason Eddie couldn't fire the Hellfire Girls when they put sugar in your gas tank was because you didn't have any proof that they did it, therefore it wouldn't hold up well if the girls decided to sue for wrongful termination. Again, lots of legalities to come in to play.

The girls were smart though. Choosing to wreck your car because they knew it was parked in the security camera's blindspot. Essentially, after the damage was done, it would be your word against theirs. And there was only so much that Eddie could do with the "subtle jabs". But now that you have a confession, Eddie can work off of that.

"But Eddie!" Justice whines. "This is so unfair. We've known you, and been at Hellfire longer than she has."

"Two weeks," Eddie reiterates, still firm on his decision. "That's enough time for you ladies to figure out the next step. I wish you the best of luck."

The ending of the FaceTime call wasn't a pretty one. It mainly consisted of denying and bargaining, all of which Eddie did not have the energy to be receptive to.

You and Eddie continue to hash it out with the girls over the phone, all while Nina and Chrissy were twerking in celebration because it meant more money for them during tip outs. And most importantly, celebrating you getting the justice you deserve...along with the possibility of you coming back.

"That was something I should've done way long ago," Eddie sighs as he hands you your phone back. "I hate dealing with legal shit."

"I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible," you frown.

"And I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible to you," Eddie counters. "I really wish I could've done more for you. But up until now my hands were tied legally, honey. And financially."

"It was a sticky situation," you mutter. "But...I knew you had a favorite."

He kisses your forehead once more and you lean into him again, resting your head against his chest and wrapping your leg around his torso.

"Ow, ow, OW!" Eddie yelps.

"Sorry!"

You asunder again.

"You think you're gonna find enough dancers in time?" you ask him.

"We'll be okay four dancers short," Eddie assures you. "And besides, more tips for the other ladies when it comes down to tip-outs. They did Hellfire a favor."

Exactly what Chrissy and Nina were thinking.

"Speaking of Hellfire..." Eddie quips. "Does this mean you're coming back?"

"Only if I'm still welcome."

"Of course you are, babe," Eddie chuckles. "Everyone there loves you."

Your heart flutters at the forsaken "L" word, uttered with so much certainty and fondness.

"...including me," Eddie adds. "I love you, man."

You bite your lip to contain your excitement as you blush, giving Eddie a light punch across his chest.

"I love you too...man."

And as a way to poke fun at you, Eddie flashes you a "surf's up" sign with his non-crippled fingers. He puts on his most pretentious California accent possible, one he learned how to do from Argyle.

"Righteous...man."

And before it could get any more intimate, Chrissy makes her way into the room, reaching into her tote bag to give you something she's been holding onto since she arrived.

You watch as she unveils a familiar velvet garment — your cloak. She gives you a courtly bow as she hands it back over to you, symbolizing an end to your very brief retirement from Hellfire, and a permanent seat at The Party's table.

"You know Hargrove, I believe..." says Chrissy. "...that this is for you."

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[mcflymemes]

NATIONAL TREASURE (2004) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm gonna steal it.

who wants to go down the creepy tunnel inside the tomb first?

if it's any consolation, you had me convinced.

you're not hurt, are you?

i am so getting fired for this.

is there a question in there?

we have no money.

how about a bribe?

it was cool. you should try it sometime.

we can't go back there.

i've never been so happy to be proven wrong.

you handled that well.

are you trying to steal that?

it's thirty-five dollars.

you know the key to running a convincing bluff? every once in a while you've got to be holding all the cards.

stop talking. start the van.

you're treasure hunters, aren't you?

i'm still working on it.

why don't you just come back down here and we can talk through this together.

don't speak again.

is that the hot girl?

are you with me?

what do you think? i'm a hostage.

do you trust me?

once we catch them, what do we do?

is this real?

i made something for you.

tell me what i need to know.

just another clue.

i can explain, but i don't have time.

i wasted 20 years of my life, and now you've destroyed yours.

what was the secret?

i found something!

i broke a shoelace this morning.

it can't be done.

i understand your bitterness. i really do.

i want you to have a chance to do that.

i've got some duct tape in the back.

promise you won't be any trouble.

i finally figured it out.

the treasure is a myth.

we need more juice.

you're all lunatics!

still a little on edge from being shot at, but i'll be okay. thanks for asking.

see? okay? now could you please stop shouting?

give me that!

you would do well, [name], to be a little more civilized in this instance.

who were those men?

we did the only thing we could do to keep it safe.

we probably deserved that.

i was thinking, what if we go public? plaster the story all over the internet.

it's not like we have our reputations to worry about.

people don't talk that way anymore.

beautiful, huh?

i have no idea what you said.

if there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.

what do you see?

what time is it now?

we missed it.

i know something about history that you don't.

i'd be very excited to learn about it.

hold on one second. let me just take in this moment.

this is cool. is this how you feel all the time?

[name], you're a genius.

how do a bunch of guys with hand tools build all this?

the aliens helped them.

i volunteered.

it's invisible.

i'm sorry for your suffering.

when are we gonna get there?

i'm hungry. this car smells weird.

i'm so sorry i dropped you.

i would have done exactly the same to you.

why can't they just say "go to this place, here's the treasure, spend it wisely?"

anyone crazy enough to believe us isn't gonna want to help.

we don't need someone crazy.

[name], are you crying?

look. stairs.

i'm guessing that's significant.

i'm just trying to hide from my ex-husband.

stay as long as you like.

you want something?

i see what you left him.

this isn't a day for "um."

we didn't find the information credible.

well, this might be possible.

i leveled with you one hundred percent.

everything i told you was the truth.

it's not a conspiracy theory.

you know what? i take it back.

i'm in a little trouble.

this... is huge.

you are gonna go to prison. you know that, right?

that would bother most people.

you know what you have to do.

i'm just trying to think if there's anything else we could do.

i'm not letting it out of my sight.

how do you look?

a toast to high treason.

here's to the men who did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right.

why do you need them?

look... this is a waste of time.

i'm still not against you.

i really couldn't accept something like this normally.

we don't actually have it.

did bigfoot take it?

is there a door that doesn't lead to prison?

get out of there. get out of there now!

[name], can you hear me?

can i marry your brain?

our evil plan is working.

why does that never happen to me?

meet me at the car. call me if you have any problems.

no broken bones?

a jump like that could kill a man.